#like the idea of him growing out just the braid hair is giving me heart palpitations

[luvjunie]

— braiding his hair

pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!reader

summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702

contains: fluff, fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader but not specified

word bank: “está bien, mi amor” - it’s okay, my love

You were dedicated on teaching yourself how to cornrow/dutch braid specifically for your boyfriend, Miles; having practiced on your little brother a few times before you proposed the idea. And while you could braid normally, you weren’t very well versed in braids to the scalp— those were an entirely different ballgame.

The first time he agreed to sit between your legs, handed you the rat tail comb, and simultaneously reached behind him to tug on his hair-tie and release his hair from the low ponytail it was in, you quickly understood why he kept it braided back. It was massive, and there was so much of it. Even with the sides of his hair faded you were still trying to figure out how it had this much volume. His curls were thick, coily in some places, silky and curled in others, falling just a bit below his shoulders. Hell, you were almost jealous.

It was as if he could read your mind from his seated position on the floor, his back to you, legs criss-crossed and you on his desk chair. “I got a lotta hair, huh?” He nearly felt the act of your hands experimentally hovering over the area, a chuckle falling from his lips before he asked you, “You sure you got it, Mami?” He turned just slightly to peer over his shoulder. “I can always ask my moms to-“

You hastily cut him off, “No, no!” Sounding a little more enthusiastic than you planned, heat spread up the expanse of your throat as you cleared it and sat up straighter, managing to instill some confidence in yourself. “I wanna try.”

And he’s more than willing to let you. You’re his girl after all, basically the only person he trusts other than his mother, so with a surrendered raise of his hands, he nods and leans back once again. “Aight then, do ya thing.”

It took a little longer than some simple braids should, and when you finally finished and reached forward to offer him the hand mirror, you had to restrain from anxiously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip. “How’d I do?” You queried quietly, hands gently resting over his lean shoulders.

You watched closely as he turned from cheek to cheek to look over your work in the mirror, brows raising in slight disbelief his bottom lip sticking out in a manner of approval as he nodded. “Damn, Ima little surprised, can’t lie.” He quipped, giving as much of a smile as someone like him gave. “You sure this your first time doing this?”

“I practiced on my little brother once or twice.” You shifted in your seat, the apples of your cheeks tight from your growing grin.“They’re not nearly as good as how your mom does them, though.” Your head tilted as you examined the plaits.

“No, está bien mi amor. They’re perfect, I fuck with them.” He set the mirror down next to him, leaning his head back to rest on your thighs.

“Really?” You felt excitement bubble in your stomach, heart swelling with pride as he expressed his satisfaction.

“Mhmm,” He hummed, long lashes fluttering up at you. “But what I like more is how you learned how to do it just for me. You gon’ be my new hairstylist, hermosa?” He licked his lips, and instantly you were distracted, his accent clinging onto his words as they rolled off his tongue.

You accidentally tuned out his question for a second, the smirk on his face and the way his eyes held contact with yours so intensely had your mind genuinely trying to wrap itself around how he looked this handsome even while upside down. “Hm?” You blinked away the thoughts, blushing when his impish grin widened, pearly whites peeking at your inability to concentrate. “Oh!- Yes… If you want me to be.” You nodded, a smile painting your face to match his.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!!

#miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles fluff #miles g morales #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miles

[whorediaries-09]

remember how I'd fly to you?💋 another one bc my mind RAN with ideas coquette-y!reader gives siri flowers and he's surprised because she remembered his favorite flower and reader doing lovey-dovey little things (taking care of him when he's drunk, washing his hair softly, giving him massages, making hot cocoa for him) while he stares at her in awe.

okay i kinda like how this one turned out 🎀

lavender haze;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- mutual pinning, tooth rotting fluff, alcohol. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- i just wanna stay...

the slut club

i feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me

'sirius did you get your helmet?' your startled shout echoes from your house. it's still carries its softness, the healing aura when it falls on sirius' eardrums. he hears your muffled pacing around in the hall. he wonders what you're searching for, sandals or his helmet. he doesn't think you'd like to get your soft bunny slippers dirty.

he bumps his black boot against the gravel of the road, twisting and turning around his motorbike keys. he hears your footsteps echo in your pretty garden as you approach him. his black helmet in your hands, a stark contrast against your pretty pastel colored dress you wore.

'how could forget your helmet sirius!' you scold. but there's no grimace in your tone, or anger. it's pure and raw, honey coated words from your vocal cords. he throws you a lopsided smile. one that makes your heart flutter and do somersaults against your ribcage.

'it ruins my hair,' he says. you knit your eyebrows together, standing on your tiptoes, sliding the helmet across his head. biting your lip, you clasp it under his jaw.

'well you'll have to shave it off if you...' you advise, shaking your head at the horrible thought. his smile softens, as he throws his arm around your neck, pulling you closer. you breathe in his warm scent of cedar and mahogany. his hot breathe fans over your face before he presses a soft peck on your forehead. you close your eyes as heat rushes under your skin.

'i'll be safe from now on, sweetie,' he whispers against your hot blazing skin. your hand crawls over his leather jacket, as you pat him, slowly moving away from his hold. because you're sure that if you don't you'll combust right then and there.

'promise?' you ask. he inserts his key into his bike, turning on the engine. patting his helmet he nods,

'promise.'

the 'just for you' remains silent.

******

you sink your knees into the mud, planting another healthy batch of gloxinias, heathers. daisies and yarrows. your garden isn't very huge, but it's not too small either. it's patched with pretty flower beds and well mowed fresh grass. the abyss of the soft hues of pinks, lavenders and whites melt to form a garden so very like you.

sirius thinks it's endearing how much you take care of flowers. he likes them too, especially the daisies. he wonders how it would feel if you braided them into his hair, but he doesn't want to pick your carefully cultivated flowers.

he doesn't want the flowers on his hair, he thinks. he just wants to feel your fingers running through the locks. and the flowers seem to be an excuse to keep something from you. something like a souvenir. something to keep near him, knowing how much love and effort you put in to grow them.

he sinks his hand into the packet of groceries, pulling out a tray of strawberries.

'hi sweetie,' he says, standing by you. you jump a little, seemingly startled by his sudden appearance. he doesn't blame you. he finds you adorable when you're surprised...well no he finds you adorable all the time. so maybe he'd done it on purpose.

his heart skips a beat as you stand up, wiping your dirty, muddy hands on your apron. your hair is tousled, messy. your eyes reflect the shimmer of the sun, but nothing beats the shine of your smile.

'i brought you strawberries,' he hands you the tray of strawberries. you smile at him, and his heart melts. he's so in love with you, he thinks. it's endearing, how much he wants to kiss your lips, comb your tousled hair, paint your nails with pretty pastel colors, pick out sundresses for you.

'thank you, pretty,' you say. he throws you a lopsided smile. his mind reels with the nickname you used for him...pretty. he's putty in your hands and you don't even know it. he's devoted to you and you don't even know it.

'i'm gonna make it into a jam, would you want some?' you ask.

'i'd love some,'

he doesn't really want you, he loves you.

*****

it was slow. it progressed eventually. when the looks in a crowded room began to wander about solely for him. when you laughed at the silliest jokes by him. when you wore his black leather jacket on a cold day, just to realize you'd like to submerge in his scent forever. when you held his hand for the first time and the sparks crawled under your skin. when the gray skies and beaches only seemed appealing when they were the shade of his eyes.

it took a lot of convincing from lily for you to realize. you didn't really have a crush on sirius. no, you didn't want him.

you loved him.

you'd broken a few flowers from your garden. heathers, yarrows and daisies. you'd tied them together, making a little bouquet. though you weren't sure he'd like it, considering the bouquet looked like a mess. a beautiful mess none the less.

taking in a breath you knocked on his door. you heard shuffling around in his hallway, before the door swung upon, revealing a shirtless sirius. his chest was clad in tattoos, which rather hid under the t-shirts he wore. his gray sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips, revealing his happy trail. fuck, you thought, gulping slowly. you felt the heat crawl under your skin to your neck and ears, your eyes drifting to your shoes.

the sight haunted you, in the best way possible. and even though you could stare at him all day, you were just his friend.

a friend who was hopelessly in love with him.

'hav-have i interrupted something?' you ask, even though no other shoes were visible other than his.

'god, no sweetie, i was hot,'

you are hot, you think wordlessly.

'you can look, i promise,' he says. his voice carries a teasing tone. you're sure you feel your heart burst out from your ribcage and your legs turn shaky when you look at him, leaned against his doorframe, his hand tucked away in his pocket. his smile burns through you, as you hand him the jam and the bouquet of flowers. he's visually speechless. his eyebrows knitted into an unreadable emotion. you wonder what he thinks.

'thanks, love,' he says, nudging his finger against his scrunched up nose. love...he says. he'd never used it before...

you want nothing but to sink into his arms and kiss him.

*****

he wraps his hands around your body. he's sure he smells like whiskey, beer and things you don't like. but you're soft, and he's drunk. he needs you, he needs the one he loves close by. he needs to feel your skin upon his. he needs to submerge himself into your scent.

'pretty, you're drunk,' your house smells so homely. he wants to sink in your cave and presence for an everlasting period. he wants to coat his eardrums into your honey weaved voice forever.

'i knowww,' he slurs. he hears you locking the door. you house smells of vanilla and sugar. he wonders whether he had interrupted your baking session. he wonders whether you're angry at him for drinking. but your beautiful eyes speak nothing. he knits his eyebrows, tucking your head under his jaw. he presses your head against his chest.

'did i interrupt something?'

'no,' you chuckle. he thinks it's the most beautiful melody he's heard.

'sirius, you should take a bath...i'll draw you one yeah?'

he blinks as you separate yourself from him. you guide him to your couch, telling him to sit down and open his shoes. he unbuckles the belt of his boots, before he hears the splashing of water against ceramic.

'sweetie, will you wash my hair?' he says, when he sees you waddle back into the hall. you play with your fingers clumsily, not quite meeting his gaze.

'you're sure?' you whisper.

'yeah,' he nods. his heart somersaults when you agree. so he walks into your washroom. the bubbles in the bathtub shimmer under the moonlight that enter through the window. your bath smells of watermelons and strawberries. he strips himself off his clothes, sinking under the hot water.

'love, you can come in,' he shouts. you slowly walk into your bathroom. he's thrilled, to say the least. to be soaked in your scent. to finally feel your fingers against his scalp. his heart flutters, when you kneel down beside him, grabbing the bottle of shampoo.

the silence is comforting, soaked in an effervescent of pure bliss and innocence. neither of you speak, afraid to jinx the moment. because it feels unreal, a haze. but it's real, your eyes boring into his, your fingers rubbing into his scalp. it's real, his hot breath fanning over your face. it's real, how he feels so close yet so far away. it's real, when he finally breaks the silence.

'i love you, sweetie,'

'you're drunk,'

'in love,'

*****

the smell of hot chocolate mixes with your spritz of cherries. you feel the hot gaze of sirius burn your back through you. he thinks there's nothing not to love about you. he's not drunk from alcohol anymore, but he remembers confessing. he remembers being drunk in love.

because he is, right now. and he wants to be all the time, if it's you he loves.

and he doesn't regret it, no. the poems he'd written about you would never compare to the ethereal love he feels for you. the paints melting on canvas could never capture your beauty. they could never capture how you made him feel. they could never capture the softness of your voice. they could never capture the feeling of your hair against his fingers. they could never capture the feeling of your body pressed against his. they could never capture the random scribbles of your fingers on his back. they could never capture the beauty of your eyes. they could never capture your sunny smile. they could never capture the taste of your jams or cookies. they could never capture the taste of your lips against his.

they could never capture you.

not when your lips melted with his, when you hand him the cup of hot cocoa.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius #couqette

[bangtaninborderland]

MYG - Music To My Heart.

Part 2.

You knocked on his studio door, once, twice and then when he didn’t answer you knocked a much firmer third.

The door swung open, the older man grunting about not wanting to be disturbed, that is until he sees you. His frown evened out as his lips turned into a subtle smile.

“You came? Is everything okay?” He stepped aside, giving you the go-ahead to enter the room.

You sat down in his chair, which had been pushed into the far corner almost as if he wanted to distance himself from the computer. “I’m okay, you are not.”

He rolled his eyes closing the door, taking a seat on the couch opposite you. “I am, if Jimin called you then you should have ignored it.”

“He said you swore at him.” You raise your eyebrows, Yoongi was never one to raise his voice, he wouldn’t be afraid to use an insult or two but no one ever took it personally.

“I’m just stuck okay? You know what I get like whenever I have a block.” His gaze falls to his fingers as he picks the skin around the nail, something your recognised a long time ago as being something he did because of his anxiety.

You sighed walking over to him, sitting yourself in his lap. His hands ceased their silent attack on one another in favour of resting on your hips. “We talked about this yoon. You have to rest otherwise you’ll get burnt out.”

“It’s not like that this time, I nearly have it. I can feel it there I just don’t know how to bring those thoughts forward. I even tried meditating.” He defends himself, his voice cutely raising a pitch.

You but your lip in hopes of hiding your smile. “You tried meditating.”

“Jimin caught me and told me he would post it on Weverse if I didn’t go home.” He scowled.

You remember how jimin had been vague earlier on the details that prompted Yoongis' outburst. “That explains why he was so shady when he called me.”

“You have got to stop listening to any member in the maknae line, I swear they only exist to make you babysit me.” He laughs resting his head against your shoulder.

You let him sit there for as long as he needs, his breathing grows quiet as does everything else in the room. You relax alongside him, your own head resting against his as you run your hand through his long black hair. After a while, you begin to hum, something you often did to occupy the space between you and him.

You almost fall off his lap as he sits up, pushing you off his lap. “What the fuck Yoongi?!” You shout throwing his shooky pillow at him.

“That hum.” He sits in his chair his fingers rushing across the keyboard as if his thought was going to escape him any minute. “What was that hum?”

You lean forward, a little confused. “I don’t know it was just something I made up as I went along.”

“Could you do it again but into the mic?”

“Min Yoongi if you want me to feature on your song that will be 5 million.”

“Won?” He asks, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Dollars.” You giggle, tiptoeing over to him.

“Never gonna happen but I’ll let you braid my hair.” He extends a hand to which you shake playfully.

You shake your head in disbelief as you walk over to the microphone, waiting for him to signal the okay before humming the same tune. He had you do it a few more times before asking you to hum another one but this time quieter.

“I think I have an idea for some lyrics.” He explains to you, extending a hand to call you back to him.

You could see the earlier tension in his shoulders were no more. “I hope I helped.”

“You did Sweetheart. How about you go and get us some dinner and meet me at home in say an hour? I’ll get some lyrics recorded and meet you at home.”

You knew this was him gently explaining he needed his space to work and you were more than happy to give him that, he went to hand you his card as you slipped on your shoes but you declined. As much as you would both joke about it you always were equal. Of course, there were things he could afford to do that you couldn’t but you always did your best to contribute fairly.

On days like today when your Boyfriend was stressed and overwhelmed you liked to treat him the same way he, did you. You requested that the driver he had arranged to take you home stop at Yoojung Sikdang.

Yoongi had talked about wanting food there for months, it was always way too busy and it was an attraction that army would frequently visit, it being the restaurant bangtan had used during their debut days.

You had met the owner a few times, she knew who you were but no one else did which allowed you the ability to pick up yoongis favourite dish from the restaurant.

You got home pretty fast which is why you were surprised to see Yoongis shoes by the door. The sound of the refrigerator opening alerts you to his location.

You managed to slide off your shoes and carry the many boxes safely into the kitchen without dropping anything.

“Hey baby do you wa- you did not.” His eyes widen in disbelief as he focuses on the box’s logo.

“I thought you deserve an old comfort.”

“What did you get?” He practically throws the box open in excitement.

“black pork and stone pot bibimbap and grilled black pork belly.”

He swings around faster than you could comprehend, his lips colliding with yours as his hands grip into your hair. He traces your jaw with kisses, leaving a mark just below your ear.

“If I knew you’d react like that I would have gone months ago.” You laugh, feeding him a piece of pork.

“Aish don’t be a brat.” He accepts the food, mumbling about how good it tastes.

You both laughed before taking another bite of food. You watched the man silently, his face seemingly happy. “How did it sound in the end?”

“Like music to my heart.”

You can’t help but blush as he winks at you, a hand squeezing your thigh before turning back to his meal. His own shyness laid out as he laughed into his bony hands.

Yoongi wasn’t the easiest person, it took you a long time to understand him but you were thankful that you took the time to, you couldn’t imagine your life without the man. His random spurts of energy, his focus and dedication, his passion, the way he loves and the way he wants to be loved are all things you never thought you’d love about a person, funnily enough, they are all the things you love about him.

#bts #bts angst #bts yoongi #bts rm #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi comfort #yandere yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi #suga x reader #suga bts #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon comfort #jimin drabble #jimin fanfic

[faeriichaii]

Hey so I know this isn’t the most original idea but could you do a mutual pining Legolas x reader where reader braids his hair without knowing the significance?

For some reason I haven’t been able to find any of em recently but it is my absolute favourite thing to read 😔😔

Softest Touch ~ Legolas x Reader

A/N: that's also my favorite prompt ngl :) Anything that has to do with brading makes my heart melt haha. Btw thank you so so much for requesting <33 I appreciate it a lot :) I really hope you like the story!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 933 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: After looking at the etheral elven prince, you have the urge to weave your fingers through his silken hair, leading to more than just simple hair braiding.

Sitting on a log in front of the fire, you thank Sam for the soup he just handed you. Taking a spoon full of one of the rare warm dinners you get on your journey, you look at all of the other companions gathered around. Boromir playing around with Pippin and Merry while Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas sat on the log opposite of yours. Your eyes stop at the elven prince for a little too long, fascinated by his beauty. The light of the fire giving him a golden glow making him look even further ethereal than he already was. You noticed your growing fondness for Legolas weren’t just friendly feelings towards a companion as he once helped you out with your aim. Since then, it became almost a routine. After dinner, the both of you always decided to go a little further away from the company to practice your aim with the arrows (that you also carve together) and sometimes share a few stories of your past.

Finishing up your soup, you decide to join the other three on the log for a quick chat. Legolas notices you first and gives you a soft smile, before scooting over to make some room for you. Sitting down beside him you notice your close proximity and feel the familiar warmth spread to your cheeks. Looking at his side profile you see his beautiful white hair, which almost seems to glow due to the light source in front of you. The way his hair falls over his back makes it look like the softest of silk and you wish to run your fingers through it. “Legolas, I have been wondering if I could maybe braid your hair?” Gimli spits out his soup while Aragorn lets out a cough. Confused at their reaction about your request you look at them bewildered. Legolas cheeks were dusted in a soft pink as he clears his throat. “That sounds lovely.” Gimli abruptly stands up and staggers away, followed by Aragorn, who politely excuses himself.

Grinning at him, you stand up from your seat at the log and take your place behind him. Weaving your hands once through his hair you realize how soft it really is. You open the braid by his ear carefully, not to hurt him before deciding on a small herringbone braid. Parting his hair into two sections, you softly start to intertwine the strands together, sometimes accidentally brushing your fingers against his pointy ear. At the soft touch he accidentally lets out a gasp. “Are you alright?” You ask him, worried that you might have hurt him. “Yes, don’t worry.” Finishing up the braid, you move back in front of him and take a look at his face. A smile graces his lips before he thanks you.

The days have passed and you notice that Gimli, as well as Aragorn, seem to have started to call you ‘Your Highness’ as well as ‘Your Majesty’. You didn’t think much about it, until one night, during your watch. You looked up at the moon, while being perched onto one of the logs in front of the fire that has been put out since a few hours. The sound of footsteps nearing you made you look up at the source. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Legolas says, before taking a seat beside you. Smiling at him you nod softly. Looking at his side profile, you notice the braid you had done a few days ago, still in tact and untouched. “Do you want me to rebraid your hair for you?” He hums softly at your question, signalling you to redo it once more. Opening the braid, you start weaving through the strands again. “I have a question I would like to ask you.” You mutter from beside him, completely focusing on his hair. “Do you know why Gimli and Aragorn suddenly call me by royal endearments?”

The elven prince chuckles softly before turning towards you after the braid is finished. “Well let me braid your hair and I can explain their behaviour.” Turning around you let Legolas comb his fingers through your hair, before he decides to start braiding on a small section. “You know, in my culture braiding is a very important and intimate gesture.” He starts, making you blush at his words. “Normally we only braid or let our hair be braided by someone we would like to court.” You gasp softly at the realization that dawns upon you. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You rasp out, turning around after Legolas is done with his braid. “Does that mean you don’t wish to court me?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. A bright blush creeps up your cheeks before you shake your head. “No I- I mean yes I do.” You look down at your hands, beginning to play with your fingers.

“I do have feelings for you Legolas. If I would have known that braiding indicates my feelings, I would have just done a better job at braiding your hair.” His laugh makes you look up at him, before he puts his hand on your cheek. “You now have enough chances to braid my hair Meleth Nin.” His thumb softly brushes against your cheek before he leans in. Meeting him halfway, your lips brush against each other in a soft kiss. Wrapping your hands around his neck you lean even closer towards him. The warmth of his body encasing you, making you feel like this is just a dream. Breaking apart you both smile softly at each other, basking in the moonlight above.

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr legolas #lord of the rings #fluff #the lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr movies #legolas #lord of the rings fic #lotr #middle earth #lord of the rings legolas #hair braiding #x reader

[wordbunch]

how the fellowship reacts to you singing...

a/n: this was requested - how the fellowship members react to you singing for the first time. It will include the fellowship boys + Faramir, because I adore him and he needs more love. let me know how you liked it! 💗💗💗 (it will be longer than you think lol)

+ tagging my beloved @entishramblings

ARAGORN

at first he wasn’t sure whether his ears were deceiving him

but he stopped and listened carefully, eventually realizing it was you

then all his attention went into listening to you

he very much enjoyed it, but waited for you to finish your little performance before saying anything (didn’t want to interrupt you, nor make you feel awkward)

he wouldn’t be giving you elaborate compliments and praise, just something short and to the point, but you’d see in his face that he genuinely loved it

he likes to listen to you sing, but also sometimes loves to join you and sing together!!!

wants to learn all the songs you know

💫

LEGOLAS

with his excellent hearing, he picked up on you humming tunes quietly as you walked, many times

and he found even that very pleasant

but when he heard you fully singing for the first time he had heart eyes, basically

he thought you have the most angelic, soothing yet powerful voice

he would never ask you to sing anything for him and wouldn’t want to push you, but he would enjoy it so much when you do

he wants to know where you picked up all the songs that you know

his absolute favorite thing is when you quietly sing while braiding his hair!!!!!

💫

GIMLI

an absolute fanboy of yours, openly

as soon as he hears you singing, he wouldn’t only divert his attention only to that...

but he’d make sure to point it out to everyone else as well

I diagnose him with singing off-key, butttt he still wants to share some dwarf songs with you, and you appreciate it

would be the kind of person to be like “now [Y/N] will sing something for all of us” skhssdhgsh

you know it’s all with the best intentions even if you feel self-conscious about your singing

but this guy right here would hype you up so much that eventually you wouldn’t even care how your voice sounds to others

💫

BOROMIR

he compliments the heck out of you (for singing and everything else)

however he would try not to openly praise you for it to everyone everywhere bc he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

keyword: he would try not to

he cannot sing so he appreciates your talent all the more

can’t help smilingggg whenever he hears you!

very grateful that you’re comfortable with sharing that part of yourself with him

if you ever actually sang in front of a crowd at some celebration or special occasion, this man would combust of pride

💫

FRODO

can’t help smiling as soon as he hears you, and he immediately recognizes that it’s your singing voice, even from further away

will sneakily approach you so as not to startle you

but he definitely wants to hear more

very curious about where you learned to sing and how you picked up all the songs

it’s a safe haven when you sing something to him, he will literally be in seventh heaven

loves to write and he would be beyond thrilled if you sang some poem that he wrote, but he wouldn’t actually ask you to

enjoys singing together with you

💫

SAM

is generally easily captivated by beautiful and magical things, your voice absolutely being one of them

will ask you countless times to sing again (but he will be quite shy about it every time)

gives you ideas on what you could sing about

he gives you cute little compliments but wishes he could express all that in a much more elaborate way

it brings him incredible joy to hear you singing from somewhere while he’s gardening

he swear it makes everything grow bigger and more luscious

God forbid anyone makes even a slightly negative comment about your singing, he is ready to throw hands

💫

MERRY

jaw drops to the floor when he hears your singing voice

this boy is captivated

smooth compliments that make you blush

why can I see him dancing/trying to dance to whatever you’re singing

potentially he’s not THE best singer out there but oh my does he love singing with you

especially spontaneously, out of nowhere

yes actually he would totally dance around when you sing, and he would dance around with you and spin you around until you’re so out of breath that you can’t sing anymore but instead just laugh heartily

💫

PIPPIN

generally worships the ground that you walk on, and that also implies all your talents and abilities

absolute heart eyes as soon as he hears you singing

(he already loves just listening to you talk, let alone anything else)

ADORES when you two sing together, but initially just a bit shy to suggest it, or to just spontaneously join you

will he come up with songs for you? absolutely

songs for you two to sing together? ABSOLUTELY

would never, in any way, push you to sing in front of everyone else, he actually enjoys it being like a lil thing between the two of you

💫

+ bonus FARAMIR

he heard your voice echoing in the Gondorian halls as you were carrying out some tasks

he was almost convinced it was a sound from heaven

but he followed the sound of it and found you! 

you were a tiny bit embarrassed but he complimented you immediately

he finds it very relaxing when you sing to him and it’s so intimate to him

he will occasionally write poems and cautiously ask you whether you can make up some melody for them and turn them into songs

not the best singer, but loves to join you sometimes

💫

+ bonus bonus character GANDALF

“[Y/N], stop with the unnecessary noise, I am trying to think”

#i am so tired after writing this but i hope it was cute #pls tell me #lotr x reader #lotr headcanons #lord of the rings imagine #aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #faramir x reader #boromir x reader #frodo x reader #samwise x reader #merry x reader #Pippin x reader #gimli x reader #gandalf #sam gamgee #frodo baggins #merry brandybuck #pippin took #legolas #aragorn #gimli #lotr #faramir #boromir #Lotr fanfic #lord of the rings x reader #from my pocketses

[theblueflower05]

Fxtavang(passionate) | Part One

A/N: So this is the accumulation of multiple different ideas that I’ve had cooking since December- I somehow managed to roll them into one giant clusterfuck. Enemies to lovers(ish), A/B/O, Warrior! Reader. All of it. I hope ya'll enjoy the filth.

Word Count: 10 k+

Warnings: Talks of secondary Gender. Sexual tension. Alien Sex. Alien Genetalia. Bottom Neteyam. Subby Neteyam. Femdom. Oral sex(male recieving) Fingering(male receiving)

Summary: Neteyam can't stand you. Or at least that’s what he tells everyone else. It's getting harder to force himself to believe the lie. Omega Neteyam x Alpha! Female! Reader

Series Masterlist

Part Two>

We do not exist in

Any other instant

Here in this dimension

You and I are meant to be- Stay Ready(What a Life) Jhene Aiko, Kendrick Lamar

Life in Awa’atlu starts early, even before the rays of the sun touch the crystalline waves, the village is stirring with life. Fishermen casting their nets, sails being pulled taut. The fkio(bird-like creatures) caterwaul between each other in the Sherbert sky; the only sounds piercing the still quiet of the morning eclipse.

Neteyam had thought the forest awoke early, but no. It was no comparison to Island. The ocean never slept; the waves consistent in their movement. Rhythmic like a beating heart. He still hasn't quite gotten used to it.

This particular morning was no different.

He awoke in his corner of the family Mauri, rubbing at his sleep crusted eyes. His siblings were still asleep, tucked soundly in their blankets. His mother is molasses slow, only his father truly awake. “Too many years in the military” Jake had always claimed. He could never sleep much at all- was the first up and the last down.

Jake offers a molded clay cup full of strong, dark violet leaf tea to him, as he does everyday. Brews a pot for the family as soon as he awakes. All of his children are caffeine addicts, much to Neytiri’s chagrin.

Neteyam grumbles his gratefulness before taking it and chugging at the bitter contents. Needing the energizing boost before he starts his daily duties.

“Tonowari’s girl still riding you hard?” Jake wonders and Neteyam almost spits out his tea at the mental image it conjures.

The vulgar dreams he had just woken from.

How he wishes that you were riding him. Hard as you could. As often as possible.

He doesn't tell his father that of course, instead keeps it easy and casual. The older man is a soldier through and through and training is one of his favorite topics to discuss.

“Y/N’s not an easy mentor, no. But I enjoy the fact that she doesnt baby me”

“Yeah, she wouldn't. Her dad’s Omega, they’re not held back with kiddie gloves here. I just wanna make sure she’s not being too hard on you. I know that you didn't get along with her when we first got here-” Jake is working on repairing Tuk’s tweng, the kid is growing so fast these days. He’s not watching his eldest son's face, if he could he’d be able to see the deception clear as day on Neteyam’s expression.

“She’s fine. Our sessions are almost over. I can't say that I’ll miss them much.”

Lie. Biggest fattest lie. The words taste acidic in his mouth.

“Yeah, her and that brother of hers have an attitude, that’s for sure. Make sure to stay on her good side. She’ll be the next chief” Jake gives his eldest a pointed look and Neteyam nods.

Yes sir, noted.

Neteyam completes his morning tasks quickly. Makes sure his bed roll is tucked away, that the loincloth he selects for the day is clean and the leather straps are secured tightly. His face is washed, and braids are neat- desperately in need of maintenance, but neat. He wonders if Kiri would fix them for him, the process of it is long and grueling and she did only sort him out weeks ago-

But the saltwater is rough on his hair. He wonders if it will ever acclimate.

Lo’ak would give him shit if he was awake- not that that skxwng was ever up before the horn for communal breakfast was sounded. His little brother liked to tease Neteyam about his vanity-

“We get it. You’re pretty, bro. Why don't you put on some lipstick while you’re at it”

It had caused many a scuffle between the two, and usually ended with Neteyam pinning the younger to the ground, face down, demanding that he took it back. Lo’aks arm’s bent behind his back at precarious angles- not released until he groveled for mercy.

It was no secret that Neteyam could be…prickly about his secondary gender. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his designation, no. There was no shame in being an Omega. It was all of the stupid societal stigmas that came with it. Omegas are supposed to be soft and docile. Family oriented and submissive-

Neteyam had rebelled against it for as long as he could remember. He wasn't going to sit at home and weave blankets(although his weaving skills were admittedly par excellence). From the moment he could get his hands on a bow, he knew what his role in the clan would be.

Hunter. Warrior. Protector. Future Olo’eyktan.

He’d fought, tooth and nail, against any doubts that were thrown his way.

Dubbed the youngest Omiticaya to ever make a clean kill, his prowess on ikran back unmatched. His Iknimaya had almost been uneventful, for he’d completed any tasks thrown at him with the ease that even some twice his age didn't possess. Then, when the humans came back, resuming their reign of terror on the planet of Pandora, he’d shocked everyone again. War was not easy, but battle strategy was something that came naturally to Neteyam- he was dangerous. A weapon made of flesh gliding amongst the clouds.

All of that seemed so futile now.

Having to start fresh was painfully unfair.

It meant having to work twice as hard as any Beta or Alpha, again, to prove his worth.

He tried not to be too bitter about it, the vicious uprooting from The Forest was something that would sit in his belly like stones forever, but he couldn't dwell on it if he wanted to build a life for himself here.

“Neteyam, shouldn't you be ;eavomg soon?” Neytiri’s soft, accented voice breaks him out of his thoughts “The dawn has broken, you’ll be late for training.”

Fuck.

He snatches up his borrowed spear in a flurry of movement, eager to get down to the beach, He can't be late again.

“Eat something first, Ma ‘Itan! Where will your strength come from? I’ll make you a meal” She insists, pan searing a slab of meat from a recent hunt. Her eyes are sharp and usually he wouldn't deny her.

He’s always gone these days, before the sun fully shines. Back when the sky has broken out into stars. Keen to be on his way.

More preoccupied with training then anything else.

“I will grab something on the way, do not worry. Be back before evening eclipse, promise!” He slips, lithe and easy, out of the Mauri. Ignoring his mother's protesting hisses and his father's low chuckle.

As much as the parental love was appreciated- he always has to bite his tongue. He’s not a child, he’s nearly twenty for Christ's sake.

The netted pathways that interconnect the village had once confused him, but now he walks them surely. Knowing he wont get lost as he had in the past. Almost no one gawk's at him anymore which is admittedly nice. He’ll never quite fit in, dark indigo in a sea of teal, but he’s a familiar oddity now. Mothers no longer pull their children away when the Sully’s pass, and he even gets a few off handed waves.

He supposes it’s probably your doing.

He’d never forget the day he’d watch you tackle a warrior twice your size to the ground, your blade gleaming dangerously as you pressed it against his throat. “They are our people now! Why do you mock your own, you ignorant swine. Do you need me to teach you the meaning of Uturu? Or should I find my father and let him know that you disregard the word of Olo’eyktan?”

Neteyam’s stomach flops as he thinks back on the memory, on the look in your eyes. On the efficiency in which you commanded respect.

He both hated and admired it about you. That spitfire attitude and silver tongue.

Alpha’s like you have always turned him off; too loud and obnoxious for his taste. When you’d first met admittedly, he’d turned up his nose. Uninterested in the Alpha daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal. Even during group training, he was polite but obviously uninterested in forming any kind of friendship with you.

When you’d offered him one on one’s he’d almost declined. Only the promise of teaching him the ways of the reef warriors kept him from saying no. You’d help him pass his Metkayinan Iknimaya, that was the only reason he’s spending so much time with you.

That’s what he tells everyone.

And definitely what he tells himself.

Because surely Neteyam can't admit that he awakes in the morning over eager to see your pretty face.

That he sneaks away at night to hide among the tall overgrown palms behind the village. Biting his lips bloody as he plays with his slit until his hard cock slips free from the protection of his body…the whole time he brings himself closer to that pleasured edge all he can think about is you. Chokes on your name as he comes all over his own hands.

He forces all of that down.

He’s always been good at pretending that he doesn't have room for feelings, and between the spray of bullets and the pressure of becoming the future leader of his clan, that had been his truth. There had been no time for courting, much less mating, back home. Yeah, since he’d noticed his affinity for female Alpha’s he’d been attracted to many Omiticayan women- but nothing like this.

You’d wormed your way under his skin.

He has a terrible crush on you.

You’re waiting for him on the beach, at the edge of the village. Peeling apart pieces of a fruit, eating distractedly. When your eyes land on him they brighten with interest.

You’re gorgeous, though not at all what he was used to when it came to Alpha women.

The ones back home were tall and hard. Their beauty almost severe. At the other end of the spectrum lies you. Short and thick, your shoulders and hips wide. Your body built for the waves, the layer of blubber giving you a softness that fascinated him to no end. Your face is extremely similar to that of both your mother and sister Tsireya, features delicate and feminine. Full cheeks, plush lips and giant green eyes.

You could pass for an Omega yourself, if it wasn't for that cocksure way that you held yourself and your distinctly Alpha scent. Potent and musky. He wants to sample it from the source, press his nose against one of your scent glands. The one in your neck. Or maybe the one in your inner thigh, right between your legs-

“Good morning” he greets good naturedly as approaches. Neutral. Like you don't send him into pre-heat every time you’re around him.

You huff a little, rolling your eyes. Expression bored. Your resting bitch face rivals your mothers. “Mhmm. You’re late, again.”

“I-uh I apologize. We can train longer into the evening, to make up for it, if you wanted to” He doesn't like making excuses, but he can't exactly tell you that he was up all-night think about how well you’d fuck him. “I didn't mean to waste your time.”

You're silent for a moment, appraising him. He catches you doing it all the time, but it never gets any less nerve wrecking.-

You’d been a lot more lenient with him lately, the months of getting to know each other softening you, but still. He probably pissed you off. He needed to get it together, you were taking the time out of your busy schedule to take care of him. He’s about to tailspin into more frantic apologies when he notices your shoulders shaking.

A smile breaks across your pretty face, fangs sharp. Coy and playful- your true nature coming to the surface.

“I'm just teasing!” you laugh, eyes rolling “Come on, Tey. We spend nearly every day together and you still can't tell when I’m playing with you?”

The worst part about Neteyam’s not so little crush?

He’s pretty sure you’re aware of it.

“Ha-ha very funny Y/N. I’m barley awake, give me a fucking break” Neteyam drawls back, as he makes a start for the small sailboat that's tied to the docs.

You’d taught him how to sail early in your training, he enjoys it. It’s all muscle memory, learned skill that he’d honed after days full of island hopping. Hunting in the shallows and the deep alike, coming back with abundant hauls for the people. He wouldn't even be allowed outside the reef without you.

“Did you eat breakfast today?” You inquire, and his hands freeze mid knot.

“Not really, but I figured I’d catch something. It’s fine-”

“Here. No wonder you forest people are so damn skinny, you never eat!” you offer him the other half of the large fruit that you’d peeled. It's a simple gesture. You do it without even thinking much of it.

“Irayo ”Neteyam is sure that he’ll think about it non-stop. He takes a big bite of the sweet fruit, if only to hide his warm cheeks for a moment.

“I thought we’d work more with the Tsurak’s today. You mastered the bond, but your riding underwater still rough” You chatter mindlessly while he desperately tries not to stare at the side of your face. At the gorgeous intertwining ink of the tattoos that swirl around your cheekbone.

He’s so fucked.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The open ocean is unforgiving. There's no cover from the blistering sun as there was in the forest, no shade to hide behind. Just the wide expanse of never ending blue.

Training with you is intense. Long hours bleed away as you mold him into perfection. Correcting his form, teaching him how to move with the crests of the waves instead of against them. Tsurak riding is different from Ikran. It's more physical, he has to use every part of his body to control the squawking beast. By the end of the long day his muscles are screaming in protest.

You call it after he hits the water at an odd angle, completely knocking the breath out of himself. He can't even protest too much, instead gasping for air to refill his tired lungs.

“That was the last one, come. We’re done for the day, let's go find somewhere to do our decompressions”

There are endless islands that dot the Eastern Seaboard of Pandora. Some large with dense flora and fauna, others small barely there things that get swept away with the changing tides.

With your guideship the two of you make port on one of the smaller ones. On decent sized white sand beach with a tree line full of fruit trees. He's more than happy to plop down on the soft ground, watching as you secure the boat, throwing his arm over his head to block out the bright sun,

“Get your lazy ass up” you command him with a smile.

He groans in protest, not removing his arm.

“Build us a fire, maybe gather some fruit. Those are Yovo trees- I’m going to go hunt us some lunch” You continue not at all phased by his dramatics.

His head perks up at that, ears swiveling as he gives you a pointed look “I can hunt for myself, you know.”

He doesn't want you to think he’s useless, that he’s a needy Omega who needs an Alpha to feed him or else he’ll starve.

“I know” you respond simply. Easily. It wasn't even on your mind. “You can build fires faster than I can and those fruit are high in the trees. You know I’m shit at climbing.”

You’re not afraid to say it; that he's better at certain things. Your designation usually comes with a supersized ego. Alpha’s can do no wrong, or so they think.

It’s refreshing. Being around you is so different from anything he’s ever known.

“You’re right, your absolute shit. Go get us some lunch, I'll do the climbing so that you don't break your neck” He grumbles as he sits up and you pat his head fondly as you pass.

He can't help but watch as you go back to the water, spear in hand. The ever seductive swing of your hips. The way your wide tail sways. His fingers clench with their need to touch. He decides to put them to use elsewhere and starts on getting a fire going.

After training you always make sure the two of you decompress. It’s an important part of the day. At first it had been an oddity to him- that you were willing to waste anymore of your time on him. An hour or two of eating, and meditating. Working on breathing techniques and weaving Metkayina lore.

The closer the two of you had become, the more he looked forward to this part of the day. It felt sacred and he reveled in the intimacy of it all.

He debones and grills the succulent fish that you caught over the flames and you prepare the fruits, skinning them and cutting them up nice and small. It’s grossly domestic. He wonders if this is what life would be like with you in your Mauri. Every hour of everyday a little piece of bliss just like this.

He forces those feelings away. Or at least tries to.

The late lunch you share is delicious and Neteyam feels heavy and sated after it. You let him laze like a cat while he digests.

“Neteyam!” you suck your teeth, disapprovingly as you look over him.

“Hmm?” His yellow eyes search yours, following your line of sight. The side of his body is covered in tiny bleeding little cuts, rubbed raw and more annoying than painful. He’d had far worse. “Oh that? It’s fine, I hit the coral a couple times when I fell off Xtrala. No big deal”

The female Tsurak he’d bonded with had a bit of a wind streak. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed the challenge.

You flash your canines at him as you hiss in displeasure, reaching for your satchel. “No big deal, huh? Most of the coral out here is poisonous, you idiot. Do you not listen to a single thing I say?”

You rummage around in the bag, pulling out a jar of thick pale yellow paste. Your mother's creation, he assumes.

“They barely even sting” he insists, trying to keep the cool, calm and collected front going. You ignore him of course and dip your fingers in the mixture.

“If we don't get this on them they’ll get infected. Then my parents will give me flack for letting you get such a stupid injury” you gesture for him to come closer, to scootch right into your personal space “Come here”

Isn't it pathetic how fast he does?

Instantly maneuvering his body right to yours the moment you ask. You're sitting crisscrossed, and he falls in until his shins are almost touching your own.

You tut, eyes rolling as your hands go to his shoulders, pushing him to lie down before turning him on his side, the scratches facing up and towards you as you lean in close to inspect them. Its casual dominance, man handling him in the most gentle way.

His heartbeat starts to flutter in his throat. His tail swaying eagerly behind him, completely out of his control.

You're efficient with your fingers, smearing the concoction in a thick layer over his marred skin. It's supposed to be completely medical, friendly. Platonic.

To him it's anything but.

He can't tell if the tingles erupting all over the his skin is from the numbing effect of the cream or from you being so close to him.

“Your mom teach you how to do this?” Neteyam’s voice is low, like he doesn't want to break your concentration. That cute little crease between your brows doesn't falter, your nose scrunched up as you attend to him.

He wants to be the object of your attention like this all the time. It feels so good to have you fretting over him and only him.

“Mhmm, a good Olo’eykte knows a bit of everything. Healing has always been my sister's forte, but I can do a small amount of it here and there” you hum, your voice so sweet.

He wonders if the rest of the clan knows how soft you can be. You are the daughter of the chief, the next leader yourself. You don't let your guard down like this when the two of you are back in the village. Never, all those months ago when him and his family had arrived, would he have expected to be blessed enough to be let into your inner circle. Trusted enough to see you as you truly are.

Its hypnotic, your caring eyes. The way that you dote on him. He falls under some kind of a trance, pushing his body more into your hands. Becoming putty like as you run the tips of your fingers all over-

They stray away from his side, sprawled over his ribs. Tracing the hard lines of his strong abdominals, his sternum. Exploring with firm massaging touch. Both of your breaths hitch when you run your thumb nail over his pert nipple-

“Neteyam” you whisper, desperation laced. Your gnawing on your full bottom lip and staring down at him as though he’s one of the ocean deities you loved to talk about so much.

“You were taught well. You’re making me feel so good” He encourages you, leaning even closer, his head resting against your knee, his breath fanning against your strong calf.

This position isn't new for the two of you.

It's been happening for weeks.

You find any excuse to touch him; and he finds any to let you.

You’d always been hands on during training but your touch had started lingering on his broad shoulders, skimming down his waist. Holding him just for the sake of it- claiming you were correcting his form when really you just wanted an excuse to squeeze his supple flesh in your palms. Most days he returned to the village shivery and disoriented, throbbing between his legs.

“I make you feel good?” you inquire, a smirk marring your features. You look like your little brother. A mirror of Ao’nung. Same small mole above your lip and all.

Neteyam scoffs, turning his head before he replies “I think you know exactly how you make me feel. It’s not really fair”

He can't look at you while he speaks, instead he stares at the sky. It's getting late in the day, you’ll need to head back soon if you want to make it back to the big island before the eclipse.

“Look at me, Forest boy” you call for him, and he stubbornly keeps his gaze avoided.

He’s still pressed so close that he can feel your body warmth, your small fingers have stopped dancing along his torso. Have settled on the center of his chest, tracing mindless patterns into his dark skin.

“It’s just cruel; I know it doesn't mean anything. You don't have to worry about me getting…confused or anything” he continues, “I’ve seen you flirt with everyone like this. I know I’m not special…so you should stop distracting me”

“It’s actually you who’s distracting me. How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re so gorgeous? I promise there is no one else on the Big Island that I think is even a fraction of how special you are” it's a saccharine croon and he hisses at it. Stupid Alphas and their flirty nature. It’s maddening.

“Just on the Big Island?” comes a muttered response, low under his breath.

You giggle “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely dramatic?”

He sputters, eyes finally meeting yours. Challenge burning in is golden orbs “Why do you say that? Because I’m an Omega?”

A bit of the mirth leaves you, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek. Cupping it firmly, meaningfully, before you speak.

“The only one who really cares about your designation here is you. How many times have I told you that it doesn't matter to me?”

He chews it over. Your words are sincere, or at least he thinks they are. But the long decades of fighting against his inner nature won't be broken down in a matter of what? A few months with a pretty Alpha who spins pretty words?

Your tumb runs along the delicate skin under his eye before you pull away with a sigh. He chases your touch, just a little. Upset with himself and his treacherous mouth that had made you pull away.

“I know that the Omiticaya are more traditional- and I respect that. Really. But here being an Omega does not mean anything less. You are no less a warrior.No less clans member, No less a man. My father is the greatest Olo’eyktan we Metkayina have ever seen, no one undermines him just because he is Omegan. He is beloved by all” There's a fire that burns inside of you, a constant simmer. It reflects in your eyes when you speak of things your passionate about.

Your favorite hunting spear passed down from your Grandmother. Your family. Your Tulkun spirit sister that he’s yet to meet.

And him.

That passion burns bright when you talk about him.

“If anyone disrespects you, I'll slit their throats, Neteyam. You know I would” You whisper conspiratorially. The cherry on top of it all.

Is it horrible that it’s that statement that turns him on the most?

Maybe because he believes it. You’d take care of him, wouldn't you? Isn't that what you’d been trying to do since he and his family arrived?

That day you’d tackled that knothead in the middle of the village, demanding that he treat the Sullys with decency. The timbre of your screams as you berated your baby brother for leaving Lo’ak beyond the reef. Your encouraging nature, the cheers you give him and his siblings when they accomplish any small Metkayinan lesson

“Let’s not get hasty and commit murder” Neteyam starts, scared shitless. Because if you’re yanking his chain, it will hurt something fierce. He wants to let you in, if just a little “I’m still getting used to the fact that I don't have to fight so hard for respect here. I get really in my head about it sometimes,”

“No shit”

“Hey. I'm trying to thank you. For giving me some perspective”

“Hmm. Try harder, Forest boy”

Theres a moment of stillness before Neteyam reaches out slowly and grabs your hand, the one that had retreated, and places it back on his skin. Your warm palm against the smooth planes of his pec once more feels so nice.

He’s not good with his words, they get jumbled. Always had. He’d get nervous and anything he’d meant to say would come out odd and skewed. He hadn't had many real friends back in the jungle for this very reason. His awkwardness could easily be mistaken for standoffishness.

He hopes his body language is better.

You resume your exploration as though he’d never stopped you. Your fingers assaulting him once more. Slow this time. Savoring it, as though you’re scared, he’ll push you away once more- even though it’s quite the opposite really. He wants your touch back on his nipple, the nub still hard and pulsing for attention. Or maybe you’ll be bold, as usual, and trail lower…

Your fingers grasp at his jaw instead, holding his head still and at just the right angle before you lean down, so close the flat of your nose runs against his own. He prepares for your kiss, his eyes sliding closed and his lips pursing in obvious offering. He cant help but hold his breath-

The kisses he’d had in the past were messy and inexperienced, hurried and left him feeling jipped and confused.

Your mouth presses to his, moist and plush. The kiss is slow, your lips brushing his in soft little bursts, sending jolts of electricity down his spine, the possessive grip you have on his jaw unwavering. When your tongue swipes at his upper lip at the same time that you tighten your grip- his little sighs are something he can’t control. You taste good as you dominate his mouth, unhurried as you steal the air from his lungs.

Giving him just a moment to catch his breath, to push you away if he pleased, you lick at his semi chapped bottom lip, before going back in for more.

The two of you get lost in each other.

His well-built arms twine around your neck, pulling you closer, tugging you down on top of him. All that warm sun baked teal skin on his feels so nice, he hums little sounds of appreciation in between the wet smacks. Your hands aren't still for more than a few seconds at a time, they’re everywhere. Too much uncharted territory to map out. Leaving hot scorching trails all over his body. Greedy, like you can't get enough of the muscle and sinew under your fingers. When you reach for the leather straps of his tweng, he gasps, but raises his hips anyway. Fully intending on helping you get it off of him-

The com, ever present around his neck, crackles to staticky life.

“Devil Dog to Pathfinder, you read me? Over.” Neteyams fathers electronic voice breaks him from his reverie, and with a heavy sigh, he pulls away.

You grunt, moving from his mouth down the hinge of his shap jaw, nipping at the hypersensitive place behind his ear-

He can barely breathe. His head’s spinning. He’s torn, knows he needs to recompose himself enough to reply to his dad and he can't do that when you’re licking at the place behind his braids- and yet he has his hands twined in your hair. Pressing you closer. His thighs falling open, letting you slip a firm leg between them-

“Pathfinder, do you read me? Over.”

“Ugh” You groan, wrenching yourself from him, and he mourns the loss of your scorching body heat instantaneously. The breeze that runs along his form once your sticky skin leaves his makes him shiver.

His chest is heaving erratically, and he wonders if he looks as out of control as he feels. Lips swollen and spit slick and golden eyes low and fluttery.

“Answer your dad” you command, voice husky and he reaches for you again. You avoid his grabby hands, backing up on your knees with a strained giggle “Answer your dad before I spread your legs and fuck you right here, Neteyam. I’m serious”

He chokes on a groan, his teeth gritting at your vulgar words. He wants it so desperately. His cock is hard under his loincloth, he can feel it poking out from his slit. It would be so easy for you to pull it out and sit on it. His eyes slam closed, no longer able to even look at you if he has any chance of calming down.

Rotting flesh. Blown ear drums from explosions. His grandma.

He thinks of unpleasant things to get his erection to go down and wills all of his blood to stop rushing south . Musters all of the composure he can before he presses his fingers to the device on his throat and replies. “Pathfinder to Devil Dog. I read you. What do you need? Over”

“Your mom wants you to come home, she spotted a small herd of Yerik on her flight. We’re hunting tonight. Over”

Fucking hell. It’s not fair.

“On my way. Over” Neteyam wants to stay on this secluded little island with you forever. Wants to throw his com into the ocean. Instead he assures his family that he’ll be home soon.

“See ya soon, son. You sound winded. Make sure to stay hydrated. Over”

Your laughter is chiming at that last bit and Neteyam cant help but crack a smile of his own.

When he can breathe semi normally and take in his surroundings, he realizes just how much time had passed. The sky is starting to streak with darkness, the sea choppier as the nightly tide starts to roll in.

“Come on, Pathfinder. I better get you home” You taunt as you start to stand and Neteyam knows his face falls, the frown that pulls on his lips deep. He can't believe that he finally got to kiss you- and that somehow, as usual, his family stood in the way. He’d been cockblocked by his dad for fucks sake.

“I’ll never understand that blasted tawtute(human, derogatory) sorcery” You grumble, eyeing his neck suspiciously and Neteyam reaches up to run his fingers along the choker like com.

“It’s not socery, Y/N. its tech. It comes in handy…sometimes ”Not now, not when he’d finally had your tongue down his throat and your body on top of his.

“Hmm. If you say so. Let’s head out, I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto” you reach out your dainty hand, helping pull him up with a smile. Your body is small but compact, far stronger than it appears. You pull him up with ease before fretting over his skewed braids.

He tries not to preen under the attention. It feels so innocent after the way that you had been touching him just moments ago-

“Ugh. Y/N. What are you-?” He hisses as you reach between his thighs and grab his flagging bulge firmly. He’s still hot and pulsing there and the surprise pang of pleasure is almost painful.

“This is mine, huh? All because of me?” you look up at him with that smirk of yours. He can only nod, not trusting his voice. Shocked at the blatant claim that you’re lying on him.

You massage the tweng covered flesh between his legs and Neteyam just winces, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He doesn't know if he’s going to push you away or pull you in again.

You don't say anything for a long moment, just stare into his eyes as you stroke him back to nearly full hardness before abruptly stopping. “Can I be blunt?”

He almost splutters. How much blunter can you be? You’re literally holding him by the most sensitive, secretive part of himself “Um, yes?”

“I will help you pass your Iknimaya, and then I want to court you. I can't start the courting until your rebirth from the oceans. Would that be okay with you? Because from the way you feel in my hand, I think it’s okay”

What?

Court him?

But you’re going to be the next clan leader and he’s some outsider from halfway across Pandora-

“Y/N-”

“Mmm. No. I don't want one of your lectures or for you to go into big brother mode on me. I’m simply letting you know my intentions. I’m going to shower you in gifts and knot you until you let that great big chip on your shoulders go” You promise. It’s a simple one, or at least that’s how you make it sound. He knows better. He should know better.

And yet the very idea of wearing pretty jewelry you’d crafted for him or being knotted and locked inside your tight pussy is enough to have releasing of all sense of rationality.

Neteyam can feel his ears burn and lie close to his head with embarrassment, completely flustered. “You're too much” he tries to laugh it off but that intensity about you makes his skin crawl.

“Stop pretending like you don’t enjoy it” you taunt before letting go of his hardness and bringing the warm hand up to pat at his cheek, almost condescendingly. “Get freshened up and help me cast the sails. I’ll have you back before the eclipse. I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto”

His head feels heavy and he can't quite break out of the haze you’d put him in.

He follows you like a viperwolf pup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The daze doesn't let up.

Weeks go by and his heart can barely take it.

You do exactly what you said you would; continue to prep him for his rites, you're training more vigorous than ever. His shoulders were broader than ever, leading to a tapered waist, his form agile and efficient in the water. He’d all but mastered riding

You also shower him in gifts; ones that leave his eyes wet with grateful tears. An intricately crafted armband that drips with multicolored sea glass and looks like it took ages to make. Baskets of Melon Tree fruit and beautifully weaved blankets. His favorite gift being a new spear. The weapon much sturdier and more ornate than the hand me down, borrowed one he’d been using. He’d almost not been able to accept it, he’d shook his head and gaped at it until you kissed him silly and told him he’d need it. A true symbol of being a Reef Warrior.

Jake and Neytiri watch it all with knowing eyes. The gift giving, the looks the two of you share. The way that Neteyam sneaks away late at night and doesn't return until just before morning eclipse.

“The girl is courting you, yes? Your karyu(teacher)” Neytiri asks one night, the statement seemingly appearing out of thin air. It’s just the two of them, maintenancing the Ikran. He’s not even all that surprised at her sharp tone and knowing gaze.

He thinks that’s why your frank nature doesn't alarm him the way it might do so with others. His mother is Beta, and yet her straightforwardness rivals that of any Alpha. He’d been conditioned to headstrong women since he came out of the womb.

There’s really no point in lying “She is, yeah”

“And you are accepting it?” It’s not really phased as a question. Neytiri says it as though it is a fact, her observation skills keen.

Neteyam just shrugs, the tips of his feline ears feeling hot as they twitch.

“I thought you didn’t get along with her? You spoke of her with much disdain” his mother continues. To any it sounds like an interrogation. She hopes he knows that she just wishes to understand him better.

Neteyam feels a little guilty about that. About all of the times he had told everyone who would listen that he wanted nothing to do with you. He had been so confused about his feelings for you- had lashed out in the only way he knew how.

“I was wrong about her. She has been nothing but kind to me, and our family- . I…I didn’t know how to trust anyone here. Especially not an Alpha” Neteyam focuses on his task of oiling the leather of his Ikran riding gear as he speaks “She never makes me feel less. For being Omega”

Neytiri mulls that over. Nodding. Before responding after a moment “I know that Metkayina traditions are different but please, if you are being intimate do not feel like you cannot come to me. If you are not ready for children, I can assist with contraceptive tonics-”

It is not that he is embarrassed of these talks. Na’vi are freer with their sexuality, he wasn’t adverse to discussing it with his mom. His earthly raised father might be more hesitant, but Neytiri had raised her children to be open with her about all things.

Sex is nature, and nature is Eywa. The great mother encourages love and pleasure.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Neteyam groans irately.

That was the one promise you had yet to keep- and to be perfectly honest, it was driving him fucking crazy. You hadn't slept with him. Were trying to respect his fragile Omiticayan laurels. You wouldn't take him, no matter how much he threw himself at you.

He’s way past thinking it’s sweet that you’re trying to be respectful. He hates you for teasing him half out of his mind. “If that problem arises, I will let you know. As of now, I fear she is torturing me. And claiming it’s respect”

Neytiri laughs, wheezy and hard at her poor eldest sons predicament. In the back of her mind, she notes it. A little more open to the idea of welcoming you into her close family unit. Neytiri had been huffy that you, the daughter of the Olo’eyktan, had not begged permission to court her son to which Jake reminded her that she herself seduced him under the tree of souls all those years ago- Mo’at and Eytukan’s blessings nowhere to be found.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It had become almost a nightly routine; sneaking out as the moons hung heavy in the dark sky. The glittering stars the only light illuminating his path.

Neteyam has to wait until everyone in the pod’s asleep, the cacophony of snores his tell. Once he’s sure his family has settled into REM, he slinks out of the front entrance. Years of finely tubing his hunting skills make him silent and quick on his feet. It’s all too easy to nimbly navigate the village and escape, unknowingly, into the tree line beyond the mangroves.

It’s not far of a walk, but deep enough into the tropical trees that he wasn’t too worried about being followed. The forest is familiar to him, even though the trees are different than the ones from home. He should feel a sense of peace along all of the familiarity- and instead his stomach is filled with shimmyflies. The excitement bubbling up into his throat.

It didn’t matter how much you guys did this, snuck away to hide in the shadows, the promise of your hands on his body and your lips on his made him dizzy with want.

He finds you in the clearing that the two of you had dubbed your own; surrounded by the thickest shrubbery that acted like some sort of privacy hedge. The Pandoran flora and fauna made the space glow iridescent and neon purple in the dark night. The reason why the two of you spend so much time there is because of the patch of plush grass and sand. Perfect to lie in-

You’re lounged there. Waiting for him. Curvy body sprawled out on a crocheted blanked, looking beyond ethereal in the glow.

You stare at the stars as you often do. Powdery eyes distracted and far away, deep in your own thoughts. He wonders, as he regularly does, if the stress of it all gets to you. It certainly used to get to him back when he was being groomed to be heir of his clan. You handle pressure so well that he forgets that you’re under it constantly.

That won’t do.

They can have you in the sunshine, under the harsh glare your responsibilities are clear and you tend to them.

Under the moonlight you’re his.

He creeps, feline and silent, ever closer-

“-Forest boy!” You exclaim in alarm, trying to sit up futilely. “What?!-“

He’d leapt from the shadows lighting quick. Using your distraction against you, before you even realized he was close he was already on top of you. Pinning you to the ground. His big hands around your finned wrists.

He giggles silently, amused and smug as he sits atop your legs. “Who’s the mighty warrior, hmm?”

The snarl you give him is reactionary. Your body arches under him, iris’s gleaming dangerously. You’re all Alpha. All apex predator, hardwired to fight anyone and anything that threatened your need to be in control-

And yet you relax a moment later. Sagging underneath him.

Neteyam’s core tingles, his tail flicking behind him, exhilarated at the obvious submission.

You stare up at him, arms pinned above your head, thighs spread and as he sits between them and he tries to imprint the sight somewhere deep. You’re so gorgeous, hair in flowing dark waves around your behind your shoulders and lips parted, a pink tongue running over them repeatedly.

“Say it” it’s supposed to be a demand, but instead it falls from him in a plea.

You smirk, your features going sharp and mean and he presses down on your wrists. Leaning further down.

“Say it” it’s a hiss, his nose against yours. Spit landing on your face.

There’s a tense moment- the forest quiet and atmosphere heavy. You’re a predator but so is he. One of a different kind. Underestimated- but no less deadly.

You acknowledge that in him. See it. Stroke that vicious creature in his chest the way that no one else ever had.

“You’re my mighty warrior, Sayrip(handsome). The mightiest I’ve ever come across” you reassure, about rubbing affectionately against his own. “I have the bruises from earlier to prove it”

Neteyam’s grin is shit eating. The cat that caught the canary. You always tell him exactly what he needs to hear. He’d known that he had done well earlier in group training with the other warriors, but it’s nice to hear you say it.

Lately he’s found that yours is the only opinion that he cares about.

“Sorry ‘bout that” he speaks right into your mouth, lips grazing your own.

“I’m sure” you snort- but before you can make any other retorts he closes that barely there distance. Slotting in between your legs perfectly and leaning his weight down on to you.

Kissing you feels like soaring. Like he’s flying amongst the Hallelujah Mountains.

It’s slow at first, like it always is. Both of you just want to taste and savor- but then the hunger sets in. He’s eager with his tongue, wants to taste the sweet cavern of your mouth. Once you let him in he’s sighing, keening as he sucks on your tongue, licks at your sharp teeth.

You’re truly starting to struggle. Wiggling underneath him, hands straining against his hold.

“Tey” you grunt as you pull away. He tries to recapture your lips but you turn away from him- instead he presses his face into your throat.

Your scent is concentrated there, pheromones free flowing from your scent gland with every beat of your heart.

It’s the salty sea. And jungle flowers. The herby musk of the beans that make his favorite tea. You smell like cozy nights when it’s raining and the sky is full of electricity. Both comfort and unchained freedom in one.

He moans and runs his wet tongue along your skin, licking the gland needily. It explodes on his tastebuds.

The loud, shocked squawk, unlady like and certainly unAlpha like.

And then you’re breaking his hold,so fucking strong. He doesn’t put up a fight and lets you go. Welcomes the feeling of your hands on his body like they’re supposed to be.

You paw at his broad back, appreciative of the tensing muscles there, all the while he’s suckling at your neck. Your pheromones are addicting as he swallows them down. Breathes them in and fills his lungs with them- drowning in you.

He wants to roll in your scent. To bathe in it. To wake up with it every morning surrounding him and isn’t that a revaluation all in it’s own.

He chokes as your small fingers begin to massage the base of his tail, rubbing on smooth little circles at the bottom of his spine. It sends tingles all the way up his spine, strumming against every vertebra- making his kuru ache.

It’s good enough to make his eyes cross, his slim hips thrusting roughly, bumping his covered cock into the warmth between your thick thighs. Ones he starts, he can’t atop. It feels too good, stimulating himself roughly with your own body while you play with his over sensitive tail.

“Hey. Slow down-“ you start, your touch leaving him and voice hesitant.

No.

Not tonight.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He was pretty fucking sure at this point that you were this close to triggering his heat- months early. He was in a constant state of arousal, his crotch aching on and off throughout the day.

You were going to help him. Do something about what you’d caused. You had to.

He keeps thrusting, short little bursts, into your tweng covered cunt. He’d rather it be bare, rather be inside of you, but he’ll take what he can get. You’re hit and humid at the apex of your body, he can feel it between the layers of clothing.

“Neteyam-” that snarl in your tone coming back. And it’s not teasing anymore. It’s warning.

Your strong legs come around his waist, your calves trying to lock him in place. Take control of the situation.

He just nuzzles his face deeper into your shoulder, his knees digging into the earth as he grounded himself- giving himself the leverage to keep fucking between your thighs as hard as he possibly could.

He’d always hated begging. Was so far above it. Back home he’d been royalty- had spent his life wanting for nothing. And even so, even here where is status was low standing he would rather die then grovel. His pride was too great.

“Please Y/N” he whispers and once he starts, he can’t stop “please, please, please”

Your legs loosen from their hold and he thinks you might take pity on him. Might let him get what he needed.

Of course things can never be easy with you.

One moment he’s sloppily chasing his high, the next there’s vertigo, the confused feeling of being moved without his permission- before he lands on his back with a huff.

You’d managed to roll the two of you over, and you sit on top of him. Your thick thighs a cage around his middle. You gaze down at him with a look that’s filled with concern, wearing a frustrated frown frown

He groans, slamming his head back into the grass. Hopelessly.

“What the fuck was that?” You inquire sharply. When he doesn’t look at you grab his face, his lips purse as you squeeze his cheeks.

“Maybe I’m sick of being teased” he sounds like a petulant child. His smushed cheeks make it all the worse.

You sigh and release his face and he doesn’t know what to do. How to get you to take him. You want him- he can tell- so why are you torturing you both?

His hands go to your thighs, squeezing. It’s all pillowy flesh and hard muscle underneath. He wants them to smother him. He distracts him self by digging his fingers into them, watching them jiggle as he releases.

“I’m not meaning to tease you. Come on, you know that”

“So working me up until I feel like I’m dying every night isn’t teasing?” He scoffs “yeah, whatever”

“I’m trying to take it slow. Be respectful”

He doesn’t want to be respected, not like this. Not by you. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why do we have to go so slow? Is this how you’ve been with all your partners?” He spits that last bit. Defensive and jealous over thinking about you with anyone else… “Or is it because I’m a virgin?”

You look a little dumb. Sitting on top of him with that half-baked expression. Like you’re trying to figure out what it is you want to say. “Well yeah. Obviously”

A flash of anger surges through him. He doesn’t need an Alpha trying to control his decisions. He's not some saint-like virgin who doesn’t want to be touched. He’s just someone who’d managed to go into adulthood without being fucked.

He maneuvers you off of him.

“I don’t get what I’m doing wrong” you’re woeful as you sit next to him in the grass.

“Do you want to know why I haven’t slept with anybody?” He starts. This conversation is going to be embarrassing for him. He doesn’t want to have it, but feels it’s necessary. You’re an asshole for making this necessary.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” you’re trying to be reassuring and calm but can smell your confused, semi hysterical hormones. There’s an Omega in distress and all you want to do is help.

You could sort all of this out by knotting him until he didn’t know his own name anymore, but alas.

“It’s not because I’m some pious freak. Yeah, the Omiticaya are more traditional but they don’t shun clans members that have pre-bonded sex, Y/N” he’s not happy as he speaks. You can tell by the way he wrings his hands, by the way his ears sit close to his braids “I’ve always had a lot going on. With my family. Even when I was younger I was always running after one of my siblings…and then the Sky People came back. It was- chaos. I barely had a moment to think, much less find anyone to mate with. And back home people only wanted to be around me because I was Olo’eyktan in training. Toruk Makto’s only Omega son”

He’s never seen you so quiet. You’re usually the loudest person in the room. Filling up any and all space with your musical voice and chiming laughter.

You give him the space to say what he needs to.

“I don’t trust easily. I knew what people wanted me for. No one cared about getting to know me, not really…and I’m not good at talking to people anyway. Ah” he’s frustrated. Tongue tying into knots as he tries to articulate the thoughts in his head.

How does he tell you that he’d been so introverted that he hadn’t had his first kiss until just after his 17th birthday?

That war had consumed his every minute and he hadn’t really been all that concerned about losing his virginity. Not until he met you.

Your hand slips into his lap, fingers interlacing with his as you wait for him to finish.

“You think that I’m a virgin because I wanted to be. I’m not. I just didn’t trust anyone enough to be with them that way” as he finishes his long-winded rant, something hangs in the air.

Something unsaid.

He didn’t trust anyone before.

But he trusted you.

You squeeze his hand tight and bring it to your lips. Kissing the top of it over and over.

“I don’t want to fuck this up. I want to do right by you” you admit. It sounds as vulnerable as he feels.

“Then stop trying to control this. Just be with me”

A lot of decisions in his life were taken from him, ripped away while he watched and mutely grieved. He wanted you, as close to him as possible. That was his, his desire. His prerogative. His choice.

You tug on his hand, bringing him back close, and hold him as you kiss him. Your tongue soothing, making him sigh. He’s so easy for this. For you.

Your bodies seem to fit together without thought, you roll atop of him and settling between his strong svelte legs happens seamlessly. Your lips never disconnect.

When you pull away, leaving him slick lipped and panting, he’s ready to admit defeat.

Instead, you hold his honeyed gaze as you reach behind yourself. Fiddling with the ties of your top until it falls off, your chest bare and on display.

Your breasts are pretty, full and topped with hard little nipples. He yearns to rub his cheek to your skin and can feel his erection stirring again.

“I can’t have sex with you yet- and that isn’t about you. It’s about me” you start as you slowly reach for the carob colored leather of his tweng. Giving him ample time to push you away if he pleases “You are not yet recognized as a fully fledged member of the clan. Soon, my sweet. But not yet”

He shivers as your fingertips trace his sensitive hips, tugging on the knots “W-what?”

“Just because I can’t fuck you doesn’t mean that I can’t make you feel good. I’m sorry for teasing , I won’t do that to you anymore” you coo apologetically, nimbly loosening his cloth until its pooling under him “Is this okay with you?”

Neteyam can only nod. Too nervous speak, not wanting to spoil this moment.

You tug the garment down his long legs and he fights the instant urge to close them, to shield himself. Instead, he takes a deep shaky breath, trying to ignore the heat flaming across his face.

“Shh” you smile, cupping his jaw and kissing him “It’s only me and you here, and I want to make it up to you”

And make it up you do.

Neteyam didn't think that anything could feel better then kissing you, then your lips on his, then you consuming his mouth. But as the kiss grows voracious, your hand slips down his body. Over the hard lines of muscle- and in between his spread legs.

“Oh” he hisses at the foreign feeling of you touching him where only his own fingers had been. His slit is swollen and puffy, his cock already peeking out. Tender and hypersensitive as you coax it all the way out from inside his body. “Oh, that feels. Ah-”

Male Omega’s have different anatomy and it’d never been anything he thought twice about. Just what he was born with, but as you work him over with your fingers, he thanks Eywa for all that he’d blessed him with. His long, hard cock. The way that you pump it slowly, paying special attention to the mushroom tip feels so nice. The slick that leaks all around, making his gash and puffy lips slippery and smooth. There’s so much stimulation.

He’s gasping wildly within minutes, clutching at desperately at the ground.

It's all so new. All so much better than he thought it would be.

When your head starts to follow that same path down his body, tongue dragging over his nipples. His ‘X’ shaped sternum. His concaving stomach and belly button- he can't bare it. Can't watch as you take the tip in your sinful mouth.

It doesn't matter how much he shrieks and writhes, you don't stop. The crude sloppy sounds of you choking yourself on his wet member echo around the trees, only interrupted by his wheezes. It’s not sweet or kind, the pleasure you give him is almost violent. It’s shameful, but he doesn't last very long at all, how could he? He’d wanted this so badly, and his untouched body had been on the brink of orgasm ever since you’d kissed him all those weeks ago back at the beach.

When your tricky fingers run over the tight ring of his hole he whites out.

His body goes tight as his orgasm washes over him in mind numbing waves. Your mouth fills with his cum. He grabs your hair firmly in both fists, holding your face still. Fucking your throat as he empties his entire being into you.

This feeling is transcending. He was a changed man, never to be the same. Floating somewhere above his body there's only one thing he can think of.

That he wants.

His turn to taste you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okay so I literally have so much more of this written but handle but this first part already is 1100 words long. I had to cut it there. Fear not, I’m hella inspired and am planning to not only update but get this little three parter done in the next week or so!

Okay, I thought I’d give you some background on the A/B/O aspect of this story. Secondary gender is something that all Na’vi have- and although Male Omega’s and Female Alpha’s aren't as common, they’re far from rare.

Male Omega’s have an anatomy that looks similar to this. I’ve been obsessed with this artwork since I saw it. Alien biology is too fun not to play with. In my head they can both fuck and be fucked

A Female Alphas knot is actually internal and is able to lock down and keep things inside.

Still plotting and feeling this world and its rules out! Let me know what you guys think and any ideas you have. You know I love to brainstorm.

A List of the Avatar Characters and the Secondary Genders(in this story)

Jake- Avatars don't have secondary genders.

Neytiri- Beta

Lo’ak- Beta

Kiri-Beta

Tuk-Alpha

Tonowari-Omega

Ronal- Alpha

Tsireya- Alpha(shes actually my fave Alpha tbh!)

Ao’nung- Beta

Gonna take a moment right at the end here to talk about some of my favorite authors and creators that inspire me to not only hone my craft, but continue post on here at all! Give them a read if you need something beyond good to tide you over until the next chapter.

@tiredmamaissy is the literal blueprint for Na'vi ABO.

@hinataashoyos writes the best damn porn with plot in this fandom

@justasimps-blog literally writes my FAVORITE near canon version of the Avatar characters

@cinetrix YOUR AI ART INSPIRED ALL OF THIS. Got me frothing at the mouth and shit. Also her Ao'nung story has a great Dom! Female in it.

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x reader #omega neteyam x female alpha reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #minors do not interact #bottom neteyam

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ chop it off ✦.·:·.*

pairing: virgil van dijk x female reader

summary: in which you let your intrusive thoughts win and virgil is not so happy with it

author’s note: the reader is imagined to have type 4A hair. Got inspired by me cutting a bob on myself when i had to take out my braids and enjoying it a bit too much.

word count: 575

It was a known fact that Virgil loved his hair. Growing up, his mother had taught him how to take care and through the years, he had learned to do it himself.

But something he loved even more than his hair, was yours. He absolutely adored your long curly hair. Whenever you two were close, his hand would automatically be in your hair, twirling it around his finger and letting it go, watching the curl bounce back.

So when you shared your idea to cut your hair, your husband was totally against it.

“Nope” Virgil shook his head, going back to scrolling on his phone.

“But- nope nope NOPE” He cut you off looking up in your eyes with fake teary eyes. “D’you want to break my heart into million pieces ?”

You just rolled your eyes at his childish antics. Virgil could be so dramatic and be a literal man child. It aggravated you sometimes but that was also your favourite side of him.

You eventually gave up on cutting your hair, convinced by your partner’s acting skills. The idea was still on your mind, social media feeding you with constant hair makeover videos. The urge to take scissors got harder to fight everyday. An afternoon alone at home, Virgil at training, was enough for you to loose the bottle.

You sat in your bathroom in front of your mirror, scissors at your left, your iPad at your right, playing a tutorial. 

You ended up having enough of over thinking it and went to wet your hair in the shower before starting to cut. You made sure not to cut too short, a little under the shoulder, a bit afraid seeing all the length you had cut. 

You had just finished your product and the end result satisfied you. You hurried to clean the bathroom and prepare dinner before Virgil came back. Once done, you sat on the couch, excited to see your husband’s reaction. Half an hour had passed and you heard the sound of keys juggling. The door opened to a loud Virgil, announcing his arrival as if hundreds of people lived in the house.

“Where is my beautiful wife…..”

His voice had lowered as he tried to process what he had saw. You stood in front of him with a shy smile, waiting for his reaction. And you were served.

“Oh my god” He loudly dragged, his hands on his face. “Why wo- babe”

You laughed at his extra persona while going to give him a hug.

“I need a moment” He stepped back from you before you forced him into a hug.

As your bodies were close, you could feel his hand in your hair, pulling on a strand to check the new length.

“In all seriousness, love, you’re beautiful” He pulled a bit away to face you and admiring it.

You blushed a bit at his compliment, responding with a cheerful “thank you”.

You knew Virgil did not like the idea a lot but seeing he loves it just as much as you made your heart melt. You grabbed his face and kissed him repeatedly before finally letting him go.

“Come on, dinner’s ready” You grabbed his hand, leading him to the kitchen.

You two spent the rest of the night lazying around. It was the type of night you enjoyed the most. Just you and the one you loved, on the couch watching TV and enjoying each other’s presence.

like, repost and suggest if you want (hope you enjoyed it besties)

first fic for my man VVD

masterlist for more

#written by bl00dst41ned #football #football blurb #football fluff #football imagine #football x reader #football x you #virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk blurb #virgil van dijk fluff #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk x you

[honey-on-your-tongue]

hey! love your works so much 😍

can you write ab navi reader wearing short skirts and that made jake jealous cause everyone’s looking at you so he’s being a little mean to her hihi 🥵

idk if that’s even logical but it’s blue alien smut it’s not that serious right 🫢

AAAA I'm so glad you like my work baby!! 💕💕💕

🤭🤭🤭 when it comes to big blue Daddy, there's nothing I won't implement into the fic 💚💚💚

Jake's eyes are on you, watching your every move, studying your bare thighs. It's driving him insane, the way your tiny, tiny loincloth flows around you, the way he can see others staring at you.

His anger spikes, the rage clawing at the inside of his throat as it attempts to snarl everyone away from you.

He likes when you dress like that for him. But he must emphasize the him portion of that. Now that you're wearing it and everyone can see you, it doesn't thrill him as much.

And you—you don't even seem to notice. You just walk around, smiling at everyone, being kind and sweet as usual. You don't realize the looks they give you, the way they watch you, and it makes him fucking angry.

He watches as you help a little girl fill a basket with fruits, and, as you do, you bend over, and Jake can see everything. Your sweet ass, your pretty pussy, and it makes his cock jerk under his loincloth. And he's had enough.

He stalks towards you and grabs you by the arm, to which you turn to face him and then offer him a small smile. You don't even get to greet him before he's dragging you away without telling you anything.

“Jake!” you laugh softly, his grip on your arm tight. “What's going on?”

When he doesn't reply, you know something's up. He drags you all the way to your shared tent and just about pushes you inside. He storms in after you, and the scent of his anger suddenly invades your nostrils.

“Jake?” you question, heart beginning to race at the look in his eyes, dark and predatory.

“You're a slut,” he accuses, voice sharp and mean. “Walkin' 'round in that fucking thing, letting everyone look.” He scoffs. “Might as well let 'em all fuck you, too.”

Your eyes widen, ears folding back. You're somewhat offended by the accusation, but the scent of his rage, of his possessiveness is making your pussy grow wet. “Maybe I will,” you throw back, studying his reaction.

Jake's eyes narrow. He scoffs, laughing, and says, “So on top of the fact that you're a whore, you're being a brat about it?”

You shrug, watching him, and Jake groans.

“That's it, come here,” he demands as he takes a seat on the edge of the cot and pats his thigh.

Your eyes are on his as you obediently walk to him. He pulls you onto his lap, his large hands caressing over the skin of your ass and holding onto your hips.

“You're mine, hm?” he says, those amber eyes focused on yours. “Mine. You have any fucking idea how crazy it makes me when others look at you? Do you understand how bad I need to remind them all that you're mine?”

You smile softly. “I am yours.”

“Yeah, but with how you behave, you might as well belong to everyone,” he says.

“But I don't. I'm yours. Only yours, Jake,” you tell him.

“Well we've gotta show 'em that, huh?”

You grin softly. “You're going to fuck me in front of everyone?”

“If I have to,” Jake replies, kissing your neck, his mouth warm and wet. “If you want me to.”

You giggle softly. “Let everyone see me all naked while you fuck me?”

Jake chuckles against your skin. “On second thought, I will definitely not be fucking you in front of anyone else. That sight is reserved for me and me only, girl.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands playing with the hair at the back of his head, fingers tracing over his braid.

Jake smirks as he kisses his way down your neck, to your collarbone.

“Tsaheylu,” you beg quietly, reaching for your queue. “Jake, please.”

He reaches for his own braid, holding it out to you, his eyes watching the look of excitement on your face. As the tendrils connect, you shudder, gasping quietly. You can feel Jake's anger, his jealousy, and there's something about the way he venerates you, about how he just refuses to let anyone so much as glimpse at you, that makes butterflies burst in your stomach.

Jake kisses your mouth softly, gently, his hands crawling to your thighs and then moving up. He slides his hands under your loincloth and tugs the flimsy item off, leaving you bare. He caresses a thumb over your clit, relishing in the pleasure that reaches him through the bond, his cock throbbing as you moan softly.

“This what you wanted?” he asks. “Hm? For me to touch you and remind you who you belong to?”

“Didn't do it on purpose,” you murmur, trying to hold his intense gaze, but you're flustered, and it shows in the way you keep diverting your eyes from his.

Jake smiles softly. It's something about the way you don't realize, about the way you can be so naive and innocent, that just makes him all soft and careful on the inside. And that usually turns into a scorching passion that will burn for hours.

“I know, love,” he says, licking over your lips. “I still gotta remind you that you're mine, don't I?”

You nod. “Yes, please,” you reply, breathless.

He grins as he pushes his loincloth aside, his cock springing free, and you eagerly lift your hips a little, eyes trained on his thick, long erection.

Jake runs the thick head over your folds, your slick smearing on him, before he pushes into you. You gasp, moaning at the feeling of fullness.

Jake doesn't even give you time to adjust. One moment, he's groaning as he fills you, and the next, he's fucking into you, rutting his hips up as his hands pull you up and down.

You gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, squeals of delight and cries of pleasure escaping your lips.

Jake watches your breasts bounce. They peek through your beaded top, your pretty nipples hard, and he lowers his head to suck at one of them.

You mewl at the sensation, pleasure shooting through your body, making you weak all over. Jake's cock bruises your cervix, his girth stretches your gummy walls almost past their limit, and he drags against that spongy spot inside you that makes you whimper.

“Jake,” you mewl, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck! 's so good!”

“Yeah, I know,” Jake replies, chuckling, his own ecstasy swirling in his body. “It's real fuckin' amazing, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding, as he ruts into you. You can feel the pleasure within you, a burning sensation that consumes your body, your mind. And you can feel Jake's pleasure through tsaheylu, which only adds to your ecstasy. It makes your body shake, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“My gorgeous girl,” Jake says, kissing your jaw. “My girl. Not anyone else's but mine.”

“Yours,” you agree. “All yours.”

Your pussy clenches tight, making Jake grunt. “Goddamn. That's my girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders and you throw your head back, the pleasure increasing dramatically, without warning, making you cry out.

“Jake!” you mewl. “Jake!” Your hips writhe against Jake's, your skin clammy and sticky, the feeling of Jake's pleasure making you dizzy.

“Shh,” Jake coos. “Easy, girl. Easy.”

You shake your head. “I-I can't! Feels too good!” you whine.

Jake licks up your throat, making you shiver. “I know, baby. I know. You're close, hm? It's okay, I know you can take it a while longer, yeah?”

You bite your lip. “Mkay,” you agree, trying to ignore the pleasure, trying to push it away. But it's so difficult. Jake is just so big, his cock touches all the right spots. He bruises your cervix, kisses your g-spot, and his hipbone drags against your clit. The combination is driving you insane. All that, added up with his scent, his fierce look, his possessive hands that roam all over your body—

Fuck.

Jake studies your face, the way you pinch your eyebrows in concentration, the way little sounds leave your lips involuntarily. Everything about you makes his cock twitch inside of you, his load threatening to spill deep into your cunt.

“You're such a good girl, baby,” he says, smirking, as he kisses your shoulder. “Such a good girl. I think you deserve my cum in you, hm? Think I should fill you up so everyone can smell me in you.” He grazes his sharp teeth over your collarbone. “And maybe I'll give you a baby too. Maybe I'll fill you with my child, make it real clear to everyone that you're mine.”

At this, you whimper, gasping, your pussy growing tight around his cock. “Yes! Please! Fill me up! Please, Jake! Want your baby!”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you do, huh?” He can feel your orgasm nearing, the pleasure within you threatening to burst. “Go ahead, girl. Come all over my cock and then I'll fill ya up, hm?”

You mewl, toes curling, entire body writhing with ecstasy. “Yes!” you gasp, your mind overcome by the idea of being full of Jake's cum. “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” The pleasure coils tightly in your womb, making your body grow taut before your orgasm explodes within you, making you cry out. Your slick gushes out of you, dripping onto Jake's lap, and he shudders as he feels your release through tsaheylu.

“Goddamn,” Jake groans as he comes himself, his load spilling into you. His seed is thick and warm, sticky as it fills your raw pussy, making you mewl softly. “Fuck.”

You're breathing heavily, stars dancing behind your eyelids, and Jake chuckles as he kisses the tip of your nose. He places a hand on top of your womb and says, “Let's hope I give you a baby, hm? That way, everyone will know you're mine.”

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie

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Blog masterlist

#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #avatar smut #inbox requests #inbox asks #inbox is always open #spam my inbox #flood my inbox #inbox <3

[victoria-writes]

I will never forget you.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: Legolas proposes to you and reassures you that he wants to be with you. Fluff & Angst with a happy ending + bonus ending

Word Count: 1605

Notes:

Reader is human

No gender or pronouns used to refer to the reader. Reader is briefly mentioned to have short hair

MENTIONS OF DEATH (reader's). Don't read if you're not ok with thinking about your own mortality xoxo

Read it on AO3 here

Story:

It has been months since you moved to Mirkwood with the prince following the disbandment of the fellowship and destruction of the one ring. Sometimes your mind would drift to what could’ve happened had the ring fallen into the wrong hands or if any other evil lies dormant, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You could never sit with these thoughts for long, though. Legolas seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed to see the good in the world again. Today was one of those days. 

“Come, there is something I wish to show you”, the elf smiled as he stretched his hand out, waiting for you to take it from your place sitting in a wooden chair inside the royal palace. 

“It better not be another elk giving birth in the woods. I’m still traumatized from your idea of ‘the beauty of nature’”, you grimace at the memory still not extending your hand.

“No, no, nothing like that. I promise”, he chuckles softly.

“Fine”.

Legolas had brought you to a clearing in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees and wildflowers. White queen anne’s lace, forget-me-nots, and flowers whose names you did not know, who only seemed to grow near where elves trot, filled your eyes. This is not the first time he’s found a quiet spot in nature to take you, and it will surely not be the last. While overlooking the rainbow of colors seemingly dancing in the field in front of you, you sneak a glance at the elf from the corner of your eye. He stands confidently with his hands behind his back next to you and smiles. If it were anyone else looking at him, they’d think he was completely at ease. Anyone but you. The look in his eyes said “Do you like it? Do you? Please tell me you like it.”. He always wanted to impress you, whether it be shooting three arrows at once when one would suffice, wearing his nicest clothes (“Legolas why are you wearing your ceremonial attire?” “Don’t worry about it, father”.), or finding the best places to take you. Be still, your beating heart. For a nearly 3,000 year old elf, he acted like a lovesick teenager. 

“It’s absolutely beautiful”, you finally say after a long silence. Legolas releases tension in his shoulders he didn’t even realize he was holding. 

“I knew you would. Let us sit in the grass.”, he guided you so that he was sitting with your back against his chest, his legs on either side. 

You felt your tongue form teasing words about him taking you on a hike to a remote spot just for a cuddle, but they faded away as he wrapped his arms around your sides and began to plant soft, slow kisses on your neck and shoulder. You melted into his warm touch. 

“May I braid your hair?”

“Yes, but there’s not much to braid.”, you reply. You had recently gotten a haircut and felt as though Legolas may be disappointed. He was very enthusiastic about your new look the first time he saw it, but now you fear he may not enjoy it. 

“Nonsense, I shall make many small plaits instead”.

“Alright”, you relaxed into his hands as he began to weave strands of hair behind you. You closed your eyes, as you reveled in the feeling of the sunlight on your face as he worked. All was quiet aside from the occasional bird chirping or squirrel running up a tree. A warm feeling took hold in your chest and you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You were safe. You were happy. You were in love. 

Millenia seemed to pass before Legolas announced he was done. True to his word, he had formed many braids in your hair. He may have gone a little overboard with just how many he made, but he just loved the feeling of being so close to you and never wanted it to end. 

“Thank you”, you whisper as your turn to face him, giving him a peck on the lips. You move your hand to feel the back of your head, itching to feel the braids your lover gifted you. Soft. Your fingers feel something soft. Something thin and soft. 

“Forget-me-not flowers”, Legolas clarified, seeing you trying to decipher with your fingers, “I thought them appropriate”.

“Why is that?” “They are gifted to one whose presence you enjoy, so as not to forget them, as the name implies. I could never forget you and I hope you would not forget me. Each past day with you is a beloved memory and each day to come cannot come soon enough. I treasure each moment with you. I feel myself drowning in my affection for you. No, peacefully swimming. I adore you. I cannot bear to be without you.”, he says softly as he holds both your hands and kisses each one, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh, Legolas”

“Meleth nîn”, he uses his hands to guide you both to your feet. As you look up into his bright blue eyes, he whispers “Please allow me to never be without you. Allow me to walk beside you for all the days we may share together before death takes us. I have lived millennia without you. Now that I know what life is like with you in it, I never want to go back. I want you with me, always.”

“Are you asking me-?”, you begin as he kneels down in front of you and pulls out a ring from his pocket.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he gazes at you with hope in his eyes as he lifts the ring towards you. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”, he quickly puts the ring on your left ring finger and you pull him into a harsh kiss. You and the elf wear matching smiles as you kiss long and hard. 

“I’m so happy, Legolas…but is this what you really want?”, your smile drops as your nerves hit you. “Of course, my love. Why do you question my intentions?”.

“It’s not your intentions that I question. It’s just that you’re…you”, you vaguely gesture at the elf.

“I’m not following.”

“You’re a prince. I’m poor. You’re an elf that’ll live thousands of years. I’m a human that’ll be lucky if I make it to 70.” “I don’t care about that.”

“Your father won’t approve.” “I care not what my father thinks. His opinion of our union will not sway me.” 

“Then what of my mortality? One day I will die and leave you alone.”

He sighs before he speaks, “I must admit I have thought long and hard on this subject. The thought of your death pains me to no end.” “Exactly. Our marriage would be short-lived in your long lifetime and I will become nothing but a memory to you, one that will fade one day.”

“What are you saying?” “I’m saying you love me now, but one day I will die and you’ll move on and I’ll mean nothing to you. One day you’ll laugh at how you ever loved a silly human”, tears began to well in your eyes, shame overtaking you as you finally let out the fears you’ve been harboring all this time. Your gaze drifts downwards, unable to face your elven lover. Legolas’ eyes widened in realization, shocked at your true feelings. He manages to compose himself and lifts your chin up with his index finger. 

“Meleth nîn, look at me. Y/N, please.”, he whispers his request. 

“It is true that my life will continue when yours ends.”

Hot tears began to run down your cheeks at this. 

“But”, he swipes the tears away with his thumb, “You will always be a part of it. Even when you are gone, I will love you. You have shown me love that I did not think was possible. When you are gone, I will visit your grave with flowers each day. I will braid my hair and miss the touch of yours. I will never remarry. I will walk the paths we have taken together. I will meditate in this very spot, remembering this moment. I will never forget you. In life and in death, we are connected. I love you”.

“And I love you”, you barely choke the words out through your tears. 

“Knowing all this, my silly human,”he teases before turning serious, “Will you marry me?” “Of course, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous elf”.

You both grin as Legolas lifts you up and spins you in his arms. When your feet are planted on the Earth again he kisses you deeply. As you feel your lips on your own, you imagine a thousand more kisses each day with him for the rest of your days. 

Bonus

Many moons have passed since your passing. Legolas meant every word of his promise and has done all that he said. Before he rests each night, he reads the book on his nightstand, your favorite book of poems. He recalls reading it to you on nights your eyes were too tired as he pet your hair while you laid on his chest. When he wakes each morning, he glares at the large empty space beside it, wishing it were you. Although his heart pangs at the loss of you, he finds joy and comfort in revisiting your old haunts, his favorite being the spot where he proposed to you. Today, our elf wanders into the cemetery. “Hello, meleth nîn”, he smiles as he places a bouquet of freshly picked forget-me-nots on your grave.

#angst and fluff #human reader #legolas x yn #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr #the lord of the rings #lotr x you #lotr x y/n #legolas x you #legolas/reader #legolas/yn

[aquagirl1978]

Petals in the Wind - Kagari Amagase x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Thank you @judejazza and @candied-boys for giving me ideas on what to write for this new prince. Part of the Falling For You Content Creator Challenge hosted by @nightghoul381 and @judejazza

Pairing: Kagari Amagase x Reader

Prompt: sudden downpour (ok, i took some creative liberties with this prompt - sorry!)

Word Count: 609

Tags: fluff

“Kagari!”

Running down the steps, the sleeves of your dress fluttered in the wind as you tried to catch up to him without stumbling down the long flight of stairs. But there were many steps, and he had already walked away by the time you ran down. 

Looking in both directions, you tried to figure out which way he had gone – one way was empty, the other a few men milling about. You followed a pathway dotted with sakura trees,  their branches covering you with a fluffy pink canopy, voices growing louder with each step you took. 

And then you heard a familiar voice, one that tugged at your heart with every word spoken.

Leaning against the trunk of a tree, your breath hitched as you spied him unseen. Green eyes sparkled like emeralds under the twilight sky, ruby red hair neatly tied up, his face as striking as it was alluring. Your gaze drifted, lingering on his narrow waist, wanting to wrap your arms around his slender torso.

His head tilted like a curious cat, his gaze meeting yours. No longer unseen, you stepped away from the tree as he approached you. 

Your body filled with warmth as you watched him walk towards you; as the wind blew, the tree branches gently swayed and petals filled the air. Stilled in your spot, you were filled with awe, admiring his ethereal beauty as he walked towards you, his steps as graceful as a cat’s, through a shower of pale pink. 

He didn’t stop walking until he was so close to you, so close you could reach out and run your fingers through his hair, loosening his braid and letting his hair fall in waves like a waterfall.

His eyes went wide and his lips parted, an audible gasp escaping, as you gently tugged on the cord twisted around his neck, its bell softly jingling as you pulled him closer. His expression softened as your lips met in a sweet kiss that soon grew to more. 

Pressing your palm against his cheek, you gazed into his green eyes adoringly. You stroked his skin with your thumb, but quickly removed your hand from his face.

When the kiss was broken and your lips parted, your eyes were still closed. Your breathing heavy, your fingers released the tassel that was tied around his neck. 

Your eyes fell to your trembling hands, the fingertips of one streaked with crimson. Your gaze lifted, fixing upon the dark red spot on the tassel hanging from his neck. 

The same tassel your fingers were just wrapped around.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s just a little blood,” he said, his face filled with fascination as he wiped your fingers with the tips of his gloves, the red of the blood blending into the red of his gloves. “It’s nothing,” he added, tilting your chin up so he could look into your eyes. 

It wasn’t nothing, you reminded yourself. War was a daily part of Kagari’s life here in Kogyoku. And if he was to be a part of your life, that was something you had to get used to. Fast. 

“Let’s go inside. You can inspect my body for any injuries and tend to my wounds,” he teased. Heat rose to your cheeks, your body eager to remove his clothes and inspect every inch of him. 

He twined his fingers with yours, a sweet tingle traveling down your spine as thoughts of Kagari danced in your head. The wind picked up as you walked, encouraging you to hurry your pace, a small downpour of petals covered your joined figures in pink as you climbed the steps to privacy.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu

#falling4uccc #ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #kagari amagase #ikepri kagari #ikemen kagari #ikepri fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Avatar: Miles Junior AU headcannons

Somewhere in another reality, Quaritch’s heart was too cold to let Spider in from the start. Somewhere in another reality, he despised all that Spider was. Somewhere in another reality, he broke his will to force his cooperation in the war effort. Somewhere in another reality, Spider got caught.

.

.

Miles Quaritch Junior is a name that Spider got documented under, and the one everyone refers to him as. He no longer wants to rip out his hair out when he hears others address him as such, but prefers to be called MJ. That, at least, gives him some semblance of an identity. Not that he has much of it left.

He fights alongside the recombinants and is a valuable asset to their squad, so his uniform had been tailored to benefit him in the environment. A tank top sweater helps protecting him from the cold and baggier camo pants give him flexibility. Thank Eywa god he was allowed to walk barefoot though.

Miles took it upon himself to give the kid proper shooting lessons and so, MJ has a good grasp on firearms and even has his own handgun, but still prefers to use the bow. It’s silent, it has more of an impact and reminds him of home.

His hair is short and curly, but on the left side of his head, a thin braid with beads in it caresses his face. MJ had to work real hard to earn the right to let it grow out, but it’s worth it. He feels just a little more like himself with it.

When needed to, MJ has the amazing ability to tap into his inner Quaritch ancestry to threaten people into doing his bidding. He can walk and talk like his father and abuses that perk at every turn. It gives Spider a vindictive sense of happiness when he sees humans around him dreading his presence.

You’d think that with Spider’s cooperative nature, he’d have a great relationship with Miles…but instead, their relationship is in shambles. The boy resents Quaritch with his entire being and barely tolerates talking to him.

Because at the end of the day, Spider didn’t give in out of love. He gave in out of suffering Miles inflicted if he did not behave, and the agonising loneliness of being abandoned by the Sullys. He is hurting, and Quaritch is all he has, but he hates him so, so badly.

And Quaritch sees it. Beyond that confident stature and an evils smirk there is a father who did, after all, see Spider for the wonder he is…but the realisation came too late. He hurt his child, and their relationship is now damaged beyond repair…but he wouldn’t be a Quaritch if he knew when to back down.

So he acts as patiently and gently as he can. He tries making smalltalk, he accommodates Spider whenever he can, he tries getting him accustomed to his touch instead of flinching away in terror and he lets it slide when the blonde accidentally slips a couple words in his native tongue. He’ll fix it. He doesn’t know how or when, but he’ll fix it. He’ll make it up to him, even if he has to spend the rest of his life doing so.

But being patient is painful. He can see his boy suffering, all alone and scared when he thinks no one’s looking, and he wants to hold him close…but he can’t. He knows Spider will start writhing and cursing and crying the second he tries to, so he waits.

Waits for the day when Spider Socorro will look him in the eye and see something more than a horrid monster.

But will a day like that ever come? Who knows…

.

.

Author’s notes: the idea for the nickname came from one of the anons who sent me asks, while the AU itself is heavily inspired by @naavispider’s “Caught” fanfic (the link is in the title)

Also BIG idk about this post, might delete later

#avatar spider #avatar 2 #spider socorro #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar headcanons #spider avatar #atwow spider #avatar quaritch #miles quaritch #miles spider soccoro #recom quaritch #miles socorro #avatar miles quaritch #na’vi quaritch #spider soccoro #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro

[stellari-s]

☀️

request; yes, by anonymous. requests open!

wc; 1 015.

tags; morningstar! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader, yandere vibes! ithaqua, canon-typical violence, obsessive and unhealthy behavior, toxic dynamic, it's morningstar y'all he may be pretty but he ain't a good person, reader also isn't the most stable, i wrote this in the span of 2 ✈️ flights.

summary; only he can destroy the sun in your heart. nobody else but him. and he wouldn't have it any other way.

this is an unspoken contract, written in spilt blood.

a contract between you and him, both entrapped within the large, spiky gates that dares and threatens the world to find out just what is happening beyond.

it is a secret, known to none but you two.

oletus manor has over time forged you into someone you can no longer recognize. looking in the mirror is impossible without witnessing the empty shell standing before you, staring back at your dull eyes. even now you somehow have a distinct, sharp awareness that you had stepped through these gates with a wish in mind, but you have long forgotten what it was.

constant “games” twist your mind’s perceptions and play with your innermost fears and desires, and you have probably been spiked with some drug before, since sometimes your memories either feel overwhelmingly vivid enough to leave tingles on your skin for days or you have no recollection whatsoever. at times, your stomach feels like maggots are chewing inside - perhaps it’s an aftereffect.

over and over and over.

whenever someone gets injured, you don’t have the energy to care. at some point, the cuts and wounds that you originally noticed are no longer tended for.

your body, fully used to the pain, has grown completely numb.

you know that, and while fear slowly seeps into your heart upon that realization, you can’t bring yourself to care at this point.

everything is the same… until you find yourself before a face you don’t recognize. his silver braided hair contrasts with his black attire and an orangish red cape, and his axe is large, but he doesn’t seem to have trouble wielding it.

what stands out to you the most though is his mask. it only covers the upper half of his face, so you can see a wide smile that almost goes ear to ear, but his eyes are completely hidden by that black crown-like mask with a single faced sun in the center where his forehead is. chains surround it; it would surely give any normal person shivers down their spine.

everything about this person screams danger.

but you had twisted your ankle trying to turn on your heel and slam the pallet on him, so now you are rendered unable to move, sitting on the ground while holding your ankle and staring blankly up at that ominous mask.

“you,” he starts, his voice laced with a sweet poison that makes your palms sweat and your heart beat right out of your chest, “just tried to stun me, didn’t you?” he breaks the pallet like crushing a bug with those sharp stilts. “yet you couldn’t do it. how pathetic.”

even while calling you pathetic, he can’t conceal a sadistic giggle from escaping his lips.

“anyone would do the same,” you reply flatly, narrowing your eyes.

“really now? then care to tell me why everyone else trembles like a leaf in front of me? but whatever.” he lifts his axe, and you widen your eyes, half in fear and half in awe at his graceful motion and the way his axe gleams beneath the moonlight. “we can change that.”

you can’t avoid the blow. the blade of the axe digs into your skin near your shoulder. you feel the warmth of your own blood spilling from the wound, and that familiar dullness spreads around that area.

it’s a numbing type of pain. it’s not enough.

just then, an idea pops into your mind. it’s a crazy idea - certainly not one a normal person would even dream to ideate. but for days, perhaps months or years, any sense of normalcy has been robbed from you.

you grab the handle of the blade and push it in deeper. gradually, with more blood staining your clothes, the dull ache grows more sharp.

it is a more genuine, raw pain - a sensation you haven’t felt in such a long time. as strange as it sounds, it makes you feel alive for the first time in who knows how long.

you’re honestly relieved to know you still have some semblance of humanity left in you, but on the other hand, the axe-wielding hunter seems puzzled. that maniacal smile is replaced with a slight frown, from which you can sense confused curiosity.

“deeper,” you say, “aren’t you going to make me tremble before you ‘like a leaf’? if so, then push it in deeper.”

at first, the hunter seems to be contemplating something, completely still as if he is a statue. then his lips stretch into a grin. he complies with your request, digging his axe in until you wince and tears start to sting your eyes before he withdraws it.

through your tear-blurred vision, you can make out the hunter’s sick glee.

if it’s him… if he has that smile on his face, then i don’t mind.

your head starts to spin as you try to stand while putting most of your weight on the ankle that’s not twisted. the hunter takes hold of one of your shoulders with one hand and cups your cheek with the other, his claws digging into your skin in both places. he applies pressure to the wound though to help a little with the bleeding.

now that you can see him a lot closer, he looks very much like a normal boy. not really non-human in any way. you imagine under that mask of his is just a normal face you would be able to see down the street.

it is clear from your interactions, though, that he’s got one too many screws loose.

“let me break you,” he says, “let me destroy the sun in your heart, and then i’ll give you a new world.” his voice is gentle but deceptive, holding the poisonous allure of a demon.

you know that, but you are still drawn in hopelessly. “it can only be you,” you reply in between uneven breaths, “nobody else - only you.”

the hunter’s grin widens, and he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“i have a feeling we’ll get along very well.”

#this was fun to write! #tried to go for like olgami vibes #anyone else know that manhwa #identity v #第五人格 #idv #id5 #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v ithaqua #identity v night watch #夜の番人 #morningstar #ithaqua x reader #idv hcs #idv headcanons #identity v imagines #idv imagines #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v x you #identity v headcanons #gn reader #yandere vibes #yandere #tw: violence #tw: toxic behavior #tw: obsessive behavior

[lullaebies]

Aegon III/Jaehaera prompt/request: Jaehaera is with their kids (maybe they're in the godswood playing) and Aegon ends up joining them?

(also Alicent is alive because why not? And if two of their daughters could be named for their moms I think that'd be cool)

“Get down from the tree at this instance, young lady,” Alicent warns, face lifted to look at the very branches of the heart tree. 

Jaehaera snaps her head back. Her grandmother had been a great aid with her daughters, but sometimes they grow rambunctious beyond belief. Helaena and Rhaenyra are seven now, and their elderly grandmother had struggled to keep pace. Alicent’s now grey hair has blended somewhat unremarkably between her silver-haired family, but it is hard to match with a dragon-spirit.

“No,” Helaena answers, hugging the thick branch of the tree, silver strands cascading down, hanging in the air. “I like it here.”

Jaehaera frowns at her from below. She had been busy braiding Rhaenyra’s hair with all the flowers she wanted in it. Helaena was supposed to wait her turn, but alas, she would not. “We said no climbing, Helaena!”

Her daughter sticks out her tongue, managing to sit up on the branch fearlessly. 

“I will get a Kingsguard,” Alicent says after trying to lift her hands to reach her; the heart tree is stocky rather than tall, but her hands are too short. “I will not have you falling down this branch!”

“I never do!” The girl answers, dignified.

Jaehaera ties off Rhaenyra’s braid, and the girl stands up, looking at her sister. “Yes you do!” she says, while swishing around her braid proudly. “Grandma will get Mister Willy to get you!”

Jaehaera tries to maintain a serious demeanor. Ser Willis Fell will never vanquish this silly nickname. Jaehaera lifts herself to come by the tree. “It is time to get down, Helaena.” 

“Don’t wanna,” the girl repeats in giggles, stuck to the tree like a cicada. Her little stubborn girl. This Helaena is not her mother, but she can’t help but feel stressed at the idea of her falling. Jaehaera is sure her grandmother feels similarly; only a few years ago she had refused to leave her rooms, still. 

“Papa,” Rhaenyra suddenly exclaims, running towards an incoming figure and hugging his leg. “Helaena climbed the trees again!” 

Aegon, patting gently against her head, hums. “And is making far too many people beg again, is she?”

“Yes!” 

Jaehaera turns around to him, a little sigh escaping her when her husband comes by her side. “She was supposed to be waiting her turn for a braid.”

Aegon hums. “The first mistake was expecting her to wait,” he says, and after some pause, kisses the side of her head. He’s been opening slowly to all touch since their daughters grew up.

They’ve come into a good place in their marriage, this last year. He tries to reach out more, even when her grandmother still turns stony whenever he comes around. Alicent curtsies at him respectfully, but is clearly concerned more by her granddaughter to spare him too much of her gaze. She lifts her arms again. “Helaena, come down.”

Aegon gives Jaehaera one glance, before he steps forward between grandmother and granddaughter. “Let me,” he says, and he lifts his arms himself. Alicent’s brown eyes squint at him, but move aside. He actually reaches the legs the girl had been swinging, and she giggles. “Jump to me, daughter? I’ll catch you.”

Helaena licks her lips. Her deep amethyst eyes have a happy glint to them. This is just a way to fly for her. The girl lifts herself off the branch, and falls, but into her father’s safe arms. He catches her in a big hug.

“There we go,” he says, smiling at his daughter as he turns back to Alicent. “Now we all can be calm.”

Her grandmother still struggles with Aegon at times, but her brown eyes turn softer then, holding her wrinkled hands together as she watches her chuckling granddaughter. Alicent gives him a nod and speaks gently. “Thank you, your Grace.”

Aegon nods back at her, gracefully humble. Looking back at Helaena, he holds the strands of her hair. “Do you want your hair braided too, now?”

Helaena glances at Rhaenyra, and they share some mischievous look. “No,” she says. “Papa’s turn.”

“Papa’s?” he asks, and before Jaehaera knows it, Rhaenyra tugs on her hand and rushes her to her father. Helaena is already tugging on Aegon’s hair. 

“Papa’s turn, papa’s turn!” Rhaenyra repeats, and Jaehaera laughs at the look on her husband’s face. Oh, he’s positively shocked, almost speechless as he realizes there is no escape.

Jaehaera brings a hand to his shoulder. “Your turn, husband,” she tells him. “Sit down, if you may.”

“..If you ask so kindly, I suppose I must,” he says in soft exasperation as Helaena already tugs on some of his strands. He hardly ever breaks into a smile, but there is a tug on the corners of his lips. He sits down, and lets Jaehaera and their daughters come around him. Jaehaera runs a hand through his hair gently, hoping he knows she is glad for this, too.

Her grandmother sits slightly farther away, watching all throughout, any frown or scowl notably absent. Later, when Jaehaera escorts her back to her rooms, Alicent gives her an old book. Beautifully illustrated, but not well tended to — it seems a page of it is missing. 

“You should read it, with your husband and the girls,” she tells her. “The kindest of days are those passed with stories told at the shade of the heart trees.”

#this shoulda came yesterday but i was a dumb dumb and misread the req #hope you enjoy this friend!! #jaehaegon #jaehaera x aegon iii #aegon iii x jaehaera #jaehaera targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #reqs #answered #my fanfics #my fics #forwithinthishollowcrown

[jelzorz]

137.

Rayla keeps her hair long for one reason and one reason only, and that is that she doesn't have time to keep it short. She'd cut it twice herself in the early days of her quest, but both times ended in choppy, uneven haircuts that she needed to see hairdressers to fix anyway, and both times it cost her a rabbit.

It's easier, these days, to let it grow and to throw it into a bun to keep it out of her face. She hadn't thought it a particularly glamorous look, or even a particularly pretty look, but she catches Callum looking, and well...

Now there's impetus to actually try.

She starts off simple: just her bun and an extra braid in addition to the one behind her ear. She tries for a ponytail a couple of days later and finds Callum isn't quite so responsive to it, so she tries a half-updo after that.

She tells herself she's experimenting, but in her heart, it's because she and Callum still haven't really talked, and mostly she just wants him to notice. Any interaction is better than the awkward pining nonsense between them, and at least she knows he's still a little bit interested, and, in any case, it is experimenting. Sometimes something different is nice.

And, of course, other people start to notice. Not in the same way, but enough to point out that she's doing something different to begin with. Ez says he likes the extra braid. Opeli says the half-updo looks lovely and traditional. Soren surprises her most:

"Hey, pigtails! Cute! You want help trying something else?"

Rayla stares at him. They're on their way down to the blacksmith to see if he can do some maintenance on Rayla's blades which are a bit more complicated than his usual commissions but Soren promises he'll enjoy the challenge. Rayla'd been feeling sentimental this morning, so her hair today is two pigtail braids like the ones she wore when she was younger. She'd actually been thinking about cutting it, now that there's time and it won't cost her an entire rabbit for a trim. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, you've just been... doing different stuff with your hair recently. Just wondered if you want ideas or a hand doing something new."

"You have experience with hair, do you?"

"Sure do," says Soren brightly. "What, you think I would trust someone else to manage these gorgeous locks?" He flips his hair dramatically and Rayla fights the urge to shove him off the path. "Nah, this is all me. Been trying to get Corvus to help me dye it but he's just not an artist in that way."

Rayla stares some more. "You dye your hair?"

"Obviously," snorts Soren. "Seriously, if you need a hand, just say the word. I'm happy to help."

Rayla isn't staring on purpose anymore, she just can't stop. "Oh. I. Didn't think you you were the type to experiment yourself," she admits, although why is less clear. Soren's always taken a little bit of pride in his appearance. It shouldn't be such a surprise. "Where'd—uh—where'd you learn to dye your hair?"

His face falls a little. He shuffles his feet. Rayla figures out the answer before he says it, and she curses herself silently for being so stupid.

"Claudia used to help me do the bits I couldn't reach," he says. "I used to help her braid her hair to pay her back."

"Oh." Oh, because duh and because Rayla doesn't really know what else to say.

They lapse into silence. Soren stares at the flagstones in the bailey as they cross it and Rayla tries not to push herself off the path for being so dumb. She coughs. "I can help you dye it?" she offers at last. "I can probably do a better job than Corvus, anyway. And... maybe you could give mine a little trim if you know how to do that?"

Soren laughs at that, the tension in his shoulders easing a little as they walk. "That'd be nice," he says. "Although, no, I wouldn't trim it. Callum likes it long."

Rayla blinks. Then flushes. She doesn't ask how he knows. "He does, does he?"

"More than he'll admit. He liked the pony tail. Ez and I caught him staring while you were doing it up."

Rayla laughs at that and makes a note of it for another day.

#rayllum #in anticipation #brotp: sorayla #soren deserves a sister who'll Choose him and rayla deserves a family that Chooses her #donf touch me i love their friendship

[sacredstarcatcher]

Cruel Summer - Part 10

Jake x Reader x Sam

Warnings: Phone sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, tourism.

A/N: Thank you for being along for the ride as I published my first ever fic. I love all of you who enjoyed my silly garbage story and look forward to someday writing more for you, if you'll have me. (Please send requests lol) Again, thank you to my inspiring best friends who fed me ideas and and answered all my silly "what if?" questions. Also, thank you for giving me grace and extra time on this last one, it's twice as long as all the other chapters! :P

The morning comes sooner than anticipated. When you wake up, Sam is no longer in his bed, but you hear the faint sound of his voice as he mumbles to Rosie flowing into the bedroom. You stretch and yawn, getting up to brush your teeth and wash your face. It’s hard not to think of Jake, how he’s feeling, what he might be doing, how he’s processing all of this… but you decide to push it aside. There’s seemingly nothing else you can do for him. 

You pad across Sam’s wooden floors barefoot, back into the bedroom. You take your phone off the charger and unlock it, wondering if Jake had maybe reached out overnight. Not thinking of him is obviously not going well.

What you’re met with when you open your phone and switch off the Do Not Disturb setting is not Jake. It’s an influx of notifications for likes and comments on “a post you’re tagged in”, the red number on the instagram icon growing every few seconds. You panic, opening the app to see what the hell is going on.

As it opens, you see a photo of the waterfall you visited with Sam two weeks ago. You swipe left and the next photo is a picture of Danny, Sam holding out his beer bottle from behind the camera to clink against Danny’s glass of beer mid-spill. You swipe again, and it’s a photo of the pickles you made together, Sam’s big hand wrapped around the jar, the sunlight reflecting off of it. Then, you swipe once more, and it all becomes clear.

The last slide is a photo of you and Rosie. You’re in the #1 Dad shirt Sam thrifted for you, tucked into your silly vintage elastic denim shorts. You’re kneeling in the garden next to her, your hair in two french braids. Your eyes are hidden behind your heart shaped glasses but your smile conveys more than enough emotion. It’s candid; you’re looking down at her and her tongue sticking out as she pants in the summer sun, her eyes on Sam as always. It looks like she’s posing for the picture, and you’re completely unaware, your hand on her affectionately, mid-scratch.

He took it that day… The day you had first kissed, the day you had come to terms with your developing feelings for him and were met with rejection. You had spent that day together, a seemingly boring day running errands and chores, but he spent every second trying to cheer you up, trying to get you to forget all the stress you were under, between the loneliness you felt from Jake’s absence and the pressures of your job. You stare at the photo, remembering the day, remembering the feeling.

Your memory flashes to the way he rejected you. The way he told you he was just leaning on you for emotional fulfillment his girlfriend at the time wasn’t giving him. It hurt you for days; you thought you had spent that entire day imagining the chemistry and connection between the two of you like a delusional, love-sick teenager. 

Seeing this photo now, from the perspective that shows exactly how he saw you as the sun shone down on your funky outfit and smiling face, the way he saw you and thought you were so perfect he needed a picture to remember the moment… it seems to heal a part of you that was hurt or doubting.

Then, you come back to the present. Hundreds, no, thousands of people now know who you are. It’s a good thing your profile was already private, because he was generous enough to tag you in the photo. Maybe you wouldn’t let him out the door last night to wallop his older brother, so he did this to get back at him the best way he could without putting you through too much turmoil. You scurry out of the bedroom, stopping to stand in front of the breakfast bar where Sam is sitting.

“Good morning!” he says, taking a bite of a banana.

“What did you do?” you ask with a laugh, your eyes going back and forth between his face and the comments on your screen.

“Oh fuck, did you want the last banana?” he asks as he chews nonchalantly, but there’s a small, dignified smile on his face as he holds it out to you. “You can have the other half.”

“I’m talking about your 4am instagram post, actually. You can have the banana.” You stroll to the counter to grab the coffee pot, but he stops you.

“Hey wait.” His voice is boyish and light. “I already made you some.” He slides the mug across the counter to you gently. “Heard you were up a little while ago.” His gentle smile and his sweet voice are a soothing balm to any and all of your anxieties.

“Thank you, Sammy.” 

You smile at him over the rim of your mug. It’s not just a thank you for the coffee. The sweetness of his very public gesture, even if it may have been powered by possessiveness after everything that happened last night, was special to you. 

He stands to toss his banana peel in the trash, then comes around to pull you in closer around your shoulders. There’s a content smile on your face and an indescribable warmth in your heart as he kisses the top of your head.  

-oOo-

When the dreaded day you have to say goodbye to Sam comes, you find yourself sitting on top of his suitcase in protest as he stands behind you, arms around your shoulders. Rosie is sniffing around the yard, unphased.

“Gonna miss you, pretty girl.” He mumbles into your hair, and you lean your head against him and nod, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “You better take good care of all my plants. Gotta sing to them. It’s important.”

Even though you’re sad, you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Inside and outside? The neighbors will call a wellness check if they hear me.” 

Before he can answer and tell you your singing voice is beautiful to him, the van rolls up. You sigh, knowing this is it. Danny hops out of the driver’s seat and both twins emerge from the back. It’s a tense moment as Jake locks eyes with you, but he quickly averts his gaze.

“Please tell me you’re going to visit us,” Josh says as Sam walks off to put his luggage into the back. You smile, nodding. 

“I will, I will. I’ll come out and see you at a few dates, probably.” You’re not lying, but you don’t exactly have anything planned. “It’s only two months. You’ll survive without me.”  Josh laughs, looking into your eyes with a raised brow. 

“You severely underestimate the manner in which multiple members of this godforsaken band rely on you. Myself included, dearest.” He smirks and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly. 

Danny and Jake stand in the grass a few feet away, chatting and playing with Rosie. Your heart hurts just a little.

“I’ll come see you. I promise.” You smile at him, pulling away from the hug. It’s quiet for a second. “Is he in a good mood today? Should I go say goodbye?”

Josh smirks, tilting his head. He knows exactly who you’re talking about. 

“I’m not qualified to answer. You’re on your own there.” He laughs a little loudly as he walks away and it catches Jake’s attention. It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t say goodbye, so you put on a brave face and approach Danny first to say goodbye. He immediately offers you a hug.

“Please make sure Sam behaves,” you say over his shoulder as you squeeze each other tightly in a hug. “He’s trying to quit smoking for good this time. I know he’s not going to tell you so I am.” 

Danny laughs as you pull back from the hug, giving you a salute. “I’ll hold him to it.” 

He knows what’s coming, so he takes his leave, walking over to the van. He starts trying to usher Rosie into the back.

A sigh leaves your chest, turning to look at Jake. He’s got his sunglasses on, his hands in his pockets. You’ve seen each other a few times since that fateful night, but it’s been tense. He and Sam are still avoiding each other for the most part. You meet his eyes over the rim of his dark, round sunglasses, and he’s raising his eyebrows, as if he’s waiting for you to speak first. 

“Did you remember to pack your phone charger this time?” you ask. He chuckles, looking down, nodding. 

“Yeah. Trying to avoid buying a fifth one.” You smile at that, feeling just a little of the tension release. The silence reemerges though, the two of you avoiding each other’s stare as you look at the grass below or the happenings behind you. You sigh, knowing it can’t be like this forever. 

You say his name quietly in an attempt to focus him. He doesn’t lift his head, but his eyes flick up quickly to meet yours.

“You don’t have to forgive me. But you have to forgive Sam.” You pause, your voice a little quieter before you continue. “He’s your brother.”

Jake’s lingering smile fades and he chews on his cheek. “I know he is.” His tone is a little smarmy, as if he’s twisting the knife.

Okay, you deserved that. 

“Just.. Please. I want you guys to enjoy yourselves. Go back to the way things were. Like I never existed.” 

Jake nods, lifting his head from the grass. “Tall order. But I’ll work on it.”

It’s taking everything in you not to word vomit another ten apologies, but you know it won’t help, so you don’t. Instead, you give him a sincere smile and wish him well. Genuinely.

“I hope you have a good time. I know you’ll be great.” Your voice is weak and your heart is heavy. 

Before you have a chance to see his face or feel any worse, you step off, heading towards Sam and interrupting his conversation with Danny. It looks like Sam intervened and got Rosie inside the van and she’s sitting contently in her seat.

“Sorry for holding you guys up,” you say as Sam wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

“Not a problem, pretty girl. We’re still running on schedule, surprisingly enough.” Danny breaks off, getting the keys back out and heading to start the car. Sam squeezes gently at the flesh of your side, urging you to turn into his arms. “Now kiss me like you’ll miss me.” 

You say your goodbyes and watch the van pull away, leaving you in front of Sam’s house alone. 

-oOo-

The first week flies by. You start back at work, decorating your classroom. You Facetime Sam as much as his schedule allows. Sometimes that looks like you eating dinner across from a phone propped up against a wine glass. Sometimes it’s folding laundry while you peek down at him in the corner of the screen. Sometimes it’s propping your phone up on the white board in your classroom as you hop up on desks and hang bulletin board borders and bubble letters, fastening the alphabet to run along the top of the walls. He never runs out of things to talk about- he constantly chats on about what he’s up to, what they’re doing on their time off, and of course, Rosie. When he’s not asking about you, of course. 

It’s lonely at night, and you realize that about 5 days in. You stand in the kitchen of Sam’s empty home and it’s eerily silent. You’ve watered all of his plants for the evening, and it’s still neat and tidy the way he left it. An urge comes over you to step into his bedroom, and when you do, it physically hurts your heart.

It smells like him. Just a little. Like when he’s in the shower and the smell of his soap is sneaking out of the crack beneath the bedroom door. Like a diluted version of what you experience when you hug him close and breathe him in. There’s nothing in the world that could stop you as you fall into his bed, holding tight to his pillow. Sam is thousands of miles away. It’s almost midnight where he is, and here you are, about to cry in his bed at 7pm. 

As your phone starts to vibrate, you scramble and answer, relieved to see Sam’s name on your screen.

“Hey.” Your voice immediately conveys that you’re feeling a little down.

“Hey you. What’s up?” he asks, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone.

“Oh, nothing. I just finished watering your plants. Your house is lonely without you.” You send a big sigh through the receiver. “Somehow I ended up in your bed. It smells like you.”

“Oh, just break my heart, why don’t you?!” he says. You can’t see him, but he’s clutching his heart and playing dead. Your laugh in response is half hearted, but genuine. 

“Sorry, sorry. I had every intention of getting up, drying my tears, remaking your bed, and watering your Japanese money plant on the way out. You would have never known if you didn’t call me.” You make light of the situation, getting cozy under his blankets as you chat to him.

“Hey, you can stay. You know, you should actually. My bed probably misses you as much as I do.” You hear him rustling around in his hotel bed halfway around the world. You hug the pillow tight, the smell of him making your heart swell.

“Maybe just for a little while.” The tone of your voice conveys that you’re planning to be wrapped in his sheets for the foreseeable future. You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before he speaks. “It’s lonely without you, though.” 

“You know if I could, I’d be your big spoon until the sunrise.” His voice is a little quieter, a little lower now. He’s alone, but he’s making sure you know his words are only for you. “Miss being able to wake up and just feel you next to me.” He sighs, and your heart starts to pound a little.

“Yeah?” You’re not sure why, but the tone of his voice, despite his mostly innocent words, has flipped a switch in you. He can tell- the way you subtly ask him to continue is laced with the slightest bit of want and he picks up on it immediately.

“Oh, you really miss me.” A self-satisfied chuckle comes through the phone. You feel your cheeks get hot when he calls you out. 

“I do.” It comes out like more of a whine. 

“What do you miss, pretty girl?” He’s baiting you, and it’s impossible to resist. You respond immediately.

“Your hands, your fingers,” you let out, a little breathless. 

He responds with a pleased hum. “Laying in my bed, thinking about how it feels when I sneak my hands into your panties late at night?” As you exhale sharply, a moan escapes you. He hears it and it’s off to the races. “Touch yourself. Go ahead. I know you want to imagine it’s me.”

Your next words come out a little choppy and there’s a bit of a laugh laced between them. “Not as good. Not the same.” You touch yourself teasingly, imagining exactly what he suspected. You fantasize that it’s him, touching you after he’s finally come to bed after you, gently slipping into bed and pulling your back tight to his chest, his hands wandering. You moan a little louder now, letting him hear what the thought of him does to you.

“Fuck,” he groans, and you know that the movement you hear now is him repositioning himself so he can do exactly what you are, thousands of miles away.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, prodding, needing to hear more of the deliciously dirty thoughts in his head. You know the answer but you’re not quite ready to be that direct.

“Do I miss you? I think about you every minute of the fucking day, pretty girl. God, I’d give anything to fuck you right now. Just the way you like.” You hear a muffled groan on the other end and it sends a wave of pleasure through you, the thought of him wanting you that badly. 

“The way I like?” You ask, wanting him to tell you. He’s onto your game and he gives you a dirty chuckle in response. 

“You know what I mean,” he drawls, voice laced with mischief. “When I push your leg back juuuust right and get ahold of your sweet spot,” he continues, panting a little. 

“Mhm,” you respond, touching yourself more urgently now, encouraging him to keep going. He swallows thickly and you hear a moan escape him as if he’s losing control. “I- I do like that..” you confess.

“I know you do. It makes you so wet I can hear it, every time,” he divulges. “Music to my fucking ears.” 

“Oh,” you let out in a high pitched whine, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, but still a little shocked at his words. It makes your stomach flip as you recall the sight of him up on his knees looking down at you, pressing your leg back into your chest as he fucks into you slow and deep. 

“Miss those little fucked out sounds you make,” he says through his teeth. “When you say my name.” 

“Sammy,” you pant out immediately, your breathing ragged, giving you away.

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asks, and you know he’s getting close. “I can hear it in your voice, pretty girl.”

His use of your pet name combined with the filth dripping from his voice is the only push you need, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm pulls a raunchy moan from your chest, the drag of it past the back of your throat will make you hoarse tomorrow as a reminder. 

“There we go,” he praises from the other side of the Earth. “Oh, fuck.” Muffled moans and gasps come across the line into your ear, making your heart nearly stop. 

“Oh my god,” you say, breathless. “That was…”

“Yeah.” His voice is quiet and playful again as he giggles quietly.  “Jesus.” He clears his throat, his voice now a little raspy and laced with sleep. “Surprisingly enough, that is not why I called.” His laugh is contagious as you come down slowly, the fog clearing from your mind. “I was wondering if you’d come out here next weekend. Catch up with us in Paris.” 

“Oh, wow. I… I think I could make that work.” You’re sure he can hear your smile through the line.

“Good. Great. Amazing! I’ll have someone get in touch with you about details?” He groans a little, and you know the sound so well, it’s clear he’s stretching.

“I can’t wait.” You pause for a moment. “It’s so late where you are. You should get some rest.”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna go try. You sleeping at my place tonight?”

“I think I might.” There’s no chance you’re leaving now.

“Sleep well, pretty girl. I love you.”

-oOo-

You watch out the window of the car as it drives through the streets of Paris, marveling at the beauty before you. It’s not lost on you how special it is that Sam made arrangements to bring you all the way out here to see him for two days in the middle of their European leg. 

He’s standing outside of the hotel when you pull up; he’s in a low cut leopard print shirt, his black pants tied with a shoelace belt he’s probably using because he didn’t pack a real one. You smile, hopping out of the back seat and charging towards him. Sammy squats down, catching you around your thighs, lifting you up as he giggles.

“Hi, handsome,” you mumble with a smile, pushing his hair behind his ear. He grins up at you, holding you tightly. It’s seconds before you lean down and kiss his lips a little forcefully, cupping his cheek in your hand. He puts you down, looking you over in front of him. Your yellow sundress and sneakers make his heart jump. 

“Look at you.” He pulls you in under his arm, kissing the top of your head. “You get prettier while I was away?” he says, giving you a faux scrutinous glare. You can’t help but blush, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I could say the same to you..” He’s tan and glowing, the European sun clearly being kind to him. His hair is shining in the sunlight and his facial hair is fuller, neater than it was as you were enjoying time off in the summer. 

“You flatter me, gorgeous.” He releases you, grinning. “They’ll take your bags upstairs. We have plans today, so we gotta go.” 

“I’m following you,” you say, smiling as you tilt your chin up, wanting just one more kiss. 

The first stop is lunch. It’s straight out of a movie, the sight before you. Sam sits in a wrought iron chair across the table, sipping a fruity drink, the view behind him almost as breathtaking as he is. You snap a picture of him after he hands his camera across the table. You know how to use it now- he’s carefully instructed you enough times that you’re comfortable enough. 

You eat more than you should and indulge in a few drinks. The two of you are somehow more flushed and smiley as you leave than you were when you arrived. He holds your hand in the back of the car as you make your way to the next stop.

As you exit the car, he laces his fingers with yours as you walk, sunglasses on, camera around his neck. You look like two tourists straight out of a Sky Mall catalog. 

“So, this isn’t the Eifell tower, but I think you’re going to like this view better. We can still go there if you want, but… You’ll see. ” It’s sweet, the way he’s showing you around the city he’s already seen, carefully considering what you would like, not just checking off all the traditional visitor boxes. 

“This is the Sacre-Coeur Basilica,” he says, trudging up the steps. “Means Sacred Heart. It’s built on the highest hill in Paris.” You reach the top, turning around to see a wide, panoramic view of the city. It’s beautiful- the sun behind you allowing you to stare without squinting. 

“If you want, we can go inside and climb up the dome to see even more.” He smiles, pointing up to the top. 

“Seriously?” you ask, grinning. He doesn’t need to hear anything else- he pulls you closer and leads you inside. 

The afternoon turns into evening, Golden Hour fast approaching. You meander through the Musee d’Orsay together, cracking silly jokes about some of the more interesting art. You scan the walls with wide eyes, taking in real life Monet and Van Gogh, holding Sam close by the waist as he leads you around under his arm. 

The two of you scale the upper level of the museum, looking at the sunset through the giant clocks. You can’t help but take in the sight of him as you snap a few pictures, the orange sun just driving home the fact that you find him more beautiful than any of the art you’ve laid eyes on today. He catches you raking your eyes over him and gives you a sly smile. He comes behind you, leaning you against the balcony that overlooks the view, a hand on either side of you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, kissing the shell of your ear. You blush, tilting your head closer to him.

“Can’t say. I’ll get arrested.” You lean back with a little giggle, not so subtly pushing your ass against him. He lets out a sharp exhale at the contact, his hand shooting to your hip to steady you, pulling himself back.

“You better not.” His warning goes for the way you’re touching him and for the potential arrest. “We have dinner plans. And I like these pants.” You laugh, feeling mischievous. 

“Well you’re no fun,” you answer, turning around, his arms still trapping you in place. You hook your fingers into his shoelace belt, pulling him closer. “I thought you said you missed me.” You ghost your lips over his, tempting him. 

He lets out a playful growl, his hand cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. He uses the other to hold your neck and pull you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a tiny squeak, hands moving to his waist to pull him closer. 

As he breaks the kiss, he lets go of you, mumbling under his breath with a smirk. “Jesus christ. Tightest fucking pants in the world.” He pulls at them, laughing. You can’t help but giggle along, flattening your dress. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

You leave the museum, both of you a little flustered and more than ready for a glass of wine. It’s a short drive to the restaurant Sam’s chosen, a wonderful spot along the Seine river. As it gets darker, the lights along the river and through the city are gorgeous and create the most romantic atmosphere. It’s impossible for you to stop smiling as you sit across from Sam, still reeling from the perfect day spent together.

“So, I was doing some thinking the other day.” Sam sips his wine and looks across the table, reaching for your hand. You look at him with attentive eyes, taking his hand, resting your chin in your other palm. 

“The day after you spent the night at my place.” You remember, nodding. He seems serious. Immediately, worry floods into the cracks in your brain. He speaks again, squeezing your hand, as if he can sense it. “I was just thinking that maybe it would make more sense if… you moved in with me. It feels like we’re keeping up with two separate, shared places… spending every night together at either one of them…” He’s a little nervous now, as if he’s not sure how you’re going to react. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe it was worth talking about.” 

You grin at him, waiting for him to finish. He leans back in his chair, looking at you. “What do you think?

“I think that makes a lot of sense.” It’s hard to hide your smile- not that you have to. “Then I don’t have to water 900 plants over two different places of residence.” 

Sam’s eyes soften, his slightly crooked smile on full display. “I want you to know,” he begins, the sincerity in his eyes almost pleading. “I’m serious. About us, about being together. About everything. I know my past doesn’t really help plead my case,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but I mean it. There’s no other girl like you. You’re it for me. And I mean that.”

It never ceases to amaze you, the way it feels like he can read your mind. Any anxiety, any worry, any doubt you have, he will eventually sniff out and eradicate it. He knows the deepest parts of you without having to ask, without you having to offer them up to him. Sam is in touch with every part of you, mind, body, and soul, and there’s nothing left for you to doubt about him now.

“Sammy,” you say, touched by his words. You tilt your head and smile, pulling his hand up to your face, holding it in both of your own. “You’re everything to me.” 

His eyes light up as he leans forward, grinning. There hasn’t been a single moment in your entire life where your heart has felt more full than this very second.

“I love you, my pretty girl. My forever girl.” You place a kiss to the back of his hand, cheeks pink and glowing. 

“I love you, Sammy.” 

-oOo-

The two of you enjoy a celebratory dinner and a bottle and a half of wine. It’s all giggles and stumbles as you head back to the car, the driver waiting patiently as you said you would be done with dinner and drinks 45 minutes prior.

The second you step into the elevator of the hotel, it’s all hands and kisses and giggles. The door slides open and Sam laughs, trying to wrangle you. “Alright, alright,” he says, scrunching his neck up with a laugh as you place kisses on his warm, tan skin. He pulls you out of the elevator and you follow, giggling all the way down the hall. 

When you reach the door, he pins you up against it while he fishes the key card out of his pocket. “Don’t think I forgot about the stunt you pulled up in the clock tower,” he whispers into your ear, his voice low, just for you. You reply with a fake gasp, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t pull any stunts, Sammy.” You do the exact thing you did in the clock tower and press yourself against him again. He groans, finally getting the door open. He hugs you tightly around your waist so you don’t fall forward before corralling you inside. 

“You’re a shitty liar.” He leads you to the bed, tossing you backwards and you land with a giggle. He stands over you, quickly unlacing your hightops and tossing them across the room. He wastes no time pulling up your sundress, stealing your panties and sliding them down your legs. “You’re lucky I don’t feel like arguing.”

You watch him as he pulls his shirt, the buttons barely putting up a fight. He tosses it to the side, then immediately descends between your legs. You can’t even get a word out- the first stroke of his tongue against you emptying your head of any thought you might have had. It’s long, languid, and slow, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Soon enough, he finds his footing and re-centers himself, picking up the pace. You cry out at the feeling and it causes him to flick his eyes up to you, watching through his dark lashes as you completely surrender to his mercy. He’s staring in awe, his hazy eyes making him look almost drunk on the taste of you. His hands are under your thighs, holding your hips tightly, the tip of his perfect upturned nose moving in and out of sight as he tastes every inch of you. He pulls one hand away, deciding to slip two fingers into you with ease. You gasp, letting a wanton moan fly from your lips. 

Your hand travels to his hair and gives a gentle tug. The action pulls a low rumble from him, the feeling against you pulling you closer and closer.

It’s probably the fastest he’s ever brought you to your end- he’s determined. Every lick, every movement, perfectly calculated and all for you. You’re so close, arching your back with a hand tightly in his hair, when he releases, pulling back from you with a lewd pop and smack of his lips. 

You look up at him, brow knitted up, cheeks hot as you catch your breath. Before you have a chance to complain, he leans over you, his lips crashing into yours. It’s not a chaste kiss by any means. He slips his tongue against your lips and into your mouth. The taste of him and the taste of yourself concocting something so sinful you can’t help but savor it.

“You taste how sweet you are, pretty girl?” he asks, panting as he breaks from you. He looks down at you with dark eyes before he slides his two fingers into your mouth. Without question, you clean them off. “That’s my girl,” he praises as you bat your eyelashes up at him, making a display of yourself as you suck on as much of his long fingers as you can fit in your mouth. He groans at the feeling, then takes them back, replacing them with his tongue as he kisses you again. Your hands sneak down to his shoelace belt and start to mess with it, but he pulls away, opting to do it himself. You move to pull your dress off, but he stops you with a single sentence.

“Leave it on.” 

You pant as you look up at him. He pulls his pants off, looking down at you with a smirk.

“You teased me in that little dress all day. Now I’m gonna fuck you in it.” He descends upon you again, pressing himself against your core, but not pushing inside just yet. “...If you ask nicely.”

“Sammy, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him. He pulls at the top of your dress, which luckily has some stretch, and it’s seconds before your nipple is in his mouth. He smiles against you, starting to push inside, the feeling of him filling you so deliciously sending your brain into overdrive.

“God, I missed this tight little pussy. Fuck.” He pushes halfway in and sees your face- just a flicker of a wince, and he retreats, giving you a second to relax. “Gotta breathe for me, baby.” His thumb brushes against your clit, helping you along. He pushes in again, the feeling almost too much for him. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself in check.

He sighs once he’s fully inside you, pushing up to kneel over you. The angle presses him upwards and you cry out, walls fluttering around him. He had edged you earlier and you’re still close now. He feels it and a smug smile crosses his face. 

“I think she missed me too,” he says, starting to move. You pant, hands fisting in the skirt of your yellow dress as you try and grapple for some sort of control or release. Either would be fine. “You think she did?” he asks, his hand grabbing onto your leg, thumb running circles against your calf. “Let’s see,” he says, making good on his word, pressing it backwards, his next stroke so deep and perfect it makes you see stars. He breathes raggedly as he fucks into you, watching your face contort.

It’s even better than you remember, the way he drags against the most sensitive, delicious spot deep inside you. He lets out a small chuckle and you look at him, wondering why. He shushes you gently, but keeps moving. You quiet your breathing and you hear it, exactly like he said you would. It’s vulgar, enough to make your cheeks turn pink. The sound of how you’re practically dripping around him, making an absolute mess of him. Your face is guilty and slightly embarrassed, but he doesn’t pay any mind. He laughs once more before he pulls your face gently to look at him. “Come on, baby. Let go for me.”

He knows exactly what he does to you- he pulls up on your hips, intensifying the angle that’s already driving you mad. He presses his hand down on your abdomen, not saying anything, but you know he’s feeling himself in the deepest part of you. You can’t help the way you whine, gasping for air as if there’s so much of him inside you there’s not enough room for a breath. He picks up the pace just slightly and that’s all it takes for the heat in your belly to spread, your climax taking you and dragging you under. You’re not sure how long it lasts or what comes out of your mouth, but you’re sure he’s pleased with himself based on the way he’s looking down at you, slowing his pace. He leans down, releasing your leg, and kisses you gently as he slowly thrusts into you, seeming to want to savor the feeling. He peppers your jaw and cheeks with kisses, petting your hair as you come down. 

“Where’d rough Sammy go?” you ask, catching your breath.

“He’s on break.” He laughs quietly, kissing you gently on your lips. You giggle back, and he freezes, as if the muscles contracting as you laugh are bringing him dangerously close. “Want me to go get him?” he jokes, but his voice is strained. 

“Yeah,” you say, your voice a little sluttier than you’d like to admit. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He pulls out of you quickly, pulling you up from where you are. “On your knees,” he says, and you listen, your hair falling down your back as you push it all out of your face. You look up at him with bright eyes, waiting. It’s seconds before he fists himself and pushes his cock into your mouth, the tip tasting of precum, the rest coated in you.

He’s not gentle- he’s immediately got a fist in your hair, and once you’re able, you’re taking as much of him as deep as you can. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, your eyes squeezing shut. He watches you, his eyes burning the image into his memory. He pulls your head down by your hair once, holding it there until you gag. He pulls you off of him, letting you breathe for just a moment before his thumb hooks your bottom teeth, holding your mouth open. You look up at him with wide, teary, mascara streaked eyes, seeing his devilish smirk. 

“You ready?” he asks, holding your mouth open. You nod to the best of your ability, keeping your mouth open as a small whimper escapes you. He leans down and spits into your mouth, making you flinch just a little, before letting go of your mouth and moving his fist to furiously stroke himself. It’s only moments before he’s spilling all over your tongue, pushing the tip of himself past your lips. A string of curses with your name tangled between leaves his parted lips as you close your own lips around him, swallowing every drop, rubbing your tongue against the underside of his cock. He whines, pulling away, feeling sensitive already. 

You stare up at him, smiling sheepishly, wiping the side of your mouth with your thumb. He wordlessly pulls you to your feet and ushers you to the extravagant Parisian hotel bathroom, drawing you a bath. 

-oOo-

While out visiting Sam, you didn’t see any of the other boys. As much as you hated to not visit Josh, you didn’t want to spare a second of your time for anyone but Sam. From what you could gather, things were getting better between him and Jake, so you didn’t want to cause a regression. It was a perfect weekend and you wouldn’t change a thing if you could. 

The holidays approach quickly. They fly home a few days before Thanksgiving and get settled. That Wednesday, it’s been decided, you’re all set to go out drinking. 

“Everyone goes out the night before Thanksgiving. Everyone.” Josh is explaining the lore behind the small town tradition of getting blackout drunk at bars in your home state the night before a family function. “You get to see all the fucks you knew in high school and get plastered, then eat your ass off the next day. It’s literally called Blackout Wednesday.” 

You widen your eyes, shaking your head. “Sounds terrible. Also, you didn’t go to highschool here.” 

Josh rolls his eyes, motioning with his hand. “Yes, smartass, but you get the point. That’s how the tradition started. Now let’s go. Daniel and Jake are meeting us there.” You nod, remembering you have to face Jake tonight. It’s been two months, and you’re praying he’s found it in his heart to at least forgive Sam.

You feel absolutely sick as you pull up to the bar, and it’s not because of the pre-game shots you took. The uber drops you off directly in front of a very familiar bar- the one where you met Jake months ago in the beginning of the summer. You feel the emotions wash over you as you step inside, the sticky floors and smell of industrial barkeeping cleaner flooding your senses and making you wonder if you’re going to survive the night.

It’s then that you realize you may stand a chance. Jake and Danny are across the bar, sitting at a long high top table. Jake’s smiling, legitimately smiling, teeth and all, as he waves you all down. They both get up, but Jake gets to you first, squeezing you tightly in a friendly hug over the top of your arms. 

“Hi,” you say, laughing, surprised when he backs away. “Welcome home!” you say, grinning.

“Thank you, thank you. Happy to be back.” He pushes his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose and smirks. “Missed you, kid.” 

You smile and look over at Sam, who took the seat next to Jake’s and is smiling as he watches the interaction. You look back at Jake with a smile filled with a metric ton of emotion. “I missed you too.” 

You step backwards to hug Danny, and then get situated at the table. It feels right- it feels normal. It’s as if things have finally settled and you’re exactly where you need to be. You laugh as you watch them carry on, Jake and Sam sitting across from you, bickering and shouting and cracking jokes as they always do.

The server approaches with a round of beers, which of course prompts Josh into making a toast. He blathers on as you watch Jake and Sam out of the corner of your eye, smiling happily at the way they interact. 

As Josh finishes his toast, you all clink your glasses together and go to drink. Sam and Jake, however, link arms and start to chug their beers in a bout of brotherly competition. You can’t help but grin and snap a candid picture of the two of them, Sam’s eyes staring into his glass, Jake’s off to the side. Jake wins, letting out a loud burp and slamming his glass down. You smile at the both of them, feeling whole again.  

@reesetrippingthelight@samstopochico@jordie-gvf-admin@jakesgrapejuice@spark-my-nature@gvfcinema@joshysgirl@hellowgoodbye@ageofwagner@katelynn-gvf@ohgodthefeeling-gvf@fwzco

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[the-fiction-witch]

Quite a compliment

Media Game Of Thrones

Character Lancel Lannister

Couple Lancel X Reader

Rating Flirty / Suggestive

Writers notes: Hi my little bats I am fully aware yes this is not a TBS character it's not even a character I've done before but I felt like giving it a go, if it's interesting to you give it a read if totally fine, if you like it let me know, if you'd like me to do more other characters let me know, if nothing else this was just fun for me to do.

Lancel went, to complete various business about the red keep, today being no exception. This task was that his uncle Tywin ordered him to fetch wine, so he went jug in hand to the cellar. Such a job was a squire work but he knew better than to argue with his uncle.

Between the racks of barrels and bottles of wine, mead, and ale he saw Y/n across the way. Her body is covered by a half-sheer dark purple dress, a silver necklace around her with a dark-coloured gem against her skin, her hair down to the small of her back with various intricate braids and ties a small knife in her hair as a hairpin, she sees Lancel arrive and giggled to herself keeping her view away from him.

A half smile creeps onto Lancel's face as he stares upon the woman before him, he moves through one of the rows of barrels to get a closer look at the loveliness before him.

He stops near her, taking in her entire form down her soft curves, the deep purple of her dress bringing out the colour in her face. Lancel can't seem to take his eyes off this sight he finally decides to approach her, his eyes glued to her form. He puts his jug for the wine on the nearby barrel of ale and walks over and stopped just close enough to not be intrusive but close enough he could be close to her. He takes in her scent of lavender flowers and honey mead, all the while she hums ‘Jenny of old stones’, As she hums the familiar song, Lancel's heart races even faster. Not only is this woman breathtakingly beautiful, but she's also wise. Seeing her humm an ancient song about the tragedy that took place in the Riverlands only makes her lovelier to him. The scent, the hum, everything about the woman draws Lancel closer. He can't resist looking down at her body one more time, and his lips grow moist at the thought of her taste.

She noticed him she giggled again as her hands searched the racks of bottles doing her best to avoid his eyes but biting her bottom lip. 

Lancel's eyes are now fixated on her lips, watching them curl as she bites her bottom lip. She concentrates on her task, and Lancel can't resist but to take another step closer. he watches her chest rise and fall slowly while she hums. The sight of her curves would be enough to tempt any man, and her voice is so soothing that he can't help but swim in it. He wants nothing more than to taste that soft bottom lip that she has between her teeth, to kiss her and take his time exploring her soft skin.

"something you wanted Ser?” she cooed playfully not looking at him when she spoke to him, she says the word ‘ser’ is enough to almost steal what's left of Lancel's breath. 

He gulps, his heart racing even faster as he tries to gain some control over the rising tide of desire spreading throughout his body, all he can think of is her body, of what secrets lie below the purple dress and how he so desperately wants to discover them, how in this moment he wished to seal the cellar doors and have her alone with him. He manages to regain some control over his breath and words. "I-... Uh, yes, um..." 

"oh? How may I be of service?" She smiled wickedly, She knew what she was doing and she liked it. 

He can't help but stare at her lips, her face, her chest, the curves of her body, as she waits for him to say something, anything. 

"Um... What is your name?" the moment those words stuttered out his mouth he suddenly realised He had no idea what he's doing! He just wants to kiss her, touch her, run his hands all over her his brain doesn’t want to make words it wants to make love. 

"hmm Y/n." She curtsied, As she curtsied and dipped down, he nearly went weak in the knees seeing her and wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet and lay her on one of the barrels and make her his lady for the evening but she was just being playful as of course he has asked this question every time he saw her, not that he had forgotten he knew her name very well but he found himself so nervous he would always ask it again. After a moment of forcing his desires away like forcing down the final dregs of a wine goblet, he managed to get composed and managed to clear his throat a bit before finally finding words. "How are you, Y/n? You look very… uhh… I mean uhh you are uhh truly... uhhh Stunning."

She giggled her hand in front of her mouth "Quite a compliment from a Knight and a Lannister, my day has been very well busy with business" She said, "Yourself Ser?"

He nods again, "Uh... Oh, just... Business. Running errands for my uncle. Quite boring really. I wish I had something to keep me entertained."

"I'm sure you find your entertainment Ser" she wickedly smirked taking a bottle in hand, “have a pleasant day,” she curtsied low before heading on her way, 

He watched her turn and walk towards the door, his eyes following her the entire way. He is mesmerized watching her hips swinging seductively from side to side as she takes each step making sure not to go around the racks and barrels even if she had many options to do so some of which were even closer to the door, but to pass him only inches from his arm, He knows he is staring at her and so does she, but he cannot help it. 

"the wine for your uncle is third-row sixth shelf," she said blowing him a kiss before she left the cellar

Lancel watches her walk out of the cellar, the way her hips sway is enough to get him thinking naughty thoughts about her all night. He takes a deep breath and collects himself, he has to concentrate on finding that wine or he'd be in trouble.

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