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lola-writes · 3 months

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Diagnosing Desire

Pairing: Tom Bennett x nurse!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Themes & Warnings: pov first person, use of Y/N, swearing, fluff, drinking, smoking, eventual smut

Synopsis: Working as a wartime nurse, you’ve been charged with seeing to the physical exams of new recruits. It’s not until Tom Bennett shows up that you realize just how physical the exam can get.

A/N: Not surprised so many people wanted more Tom Bennett. Some inspo taken from Pearl Harbor. Not everything is medically accurate for the sake of the plot. Found this picture (bottom right) of a soldier getting an exam during ww2 that looked just like Ewan from behind!

Song: Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene - Hozier

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated ❤️

Enjoy the read!

“Efficiency is key,” my uncle declared, rustling through the recruitment papers with a grim determination etching his features. “We need to be swift yet thorough.”

“How about I take the main parameters from the start,” I offered. “Leaving you more time to fill out paperwork. Then, I hand them over to you and fill out their files as you examine?”

A thoughtful crease furrowed his brow. “That might just work,” he said, tapping his finger against his lips in contemplation.

The car rattled upon the cobblestones as we lurched onto Manchester’s main street, shuddering us into silence. Every window, lamp post and building were decorated in posters and placards of soldiers with brandished rifles, blaring red pronouncements reading ‘RECRUIT NOW’, ‘EVERY FIT MAN WANTED’, and ‘RALLY ROUND THE FLAG’.

Neville Chamberlain’s haunting voice echoed in my head, a remnant of his crackling announcement on the Home Service.

This country is at war with Germany.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

I despised war, the very notion of violence solving anything. Yet, here I was, about to be thrust into the heart of its machinery.

But if war was inevitable, I would steel my resolve, seeing to put my expertise to good use.

Fresh out of basic nursing training at King Edward VII Hospital in Sheffield, I’d been dispatched with my uncle and a contingent of colleagues to Manchester. As an NHS nurse, we were tasked with overseeing and assisting in the physical examinations of the city’s new recruits. My uncle, Dr. Benjamin Clark, a seasoned veteran with ten years under his belt, would lead the examinations, while I served as his right hand.

The car turned a corner, then another, before coming to a grinding halt at the curb. I nudged my uncle, yet engrossed in paperwork. Once he glanced up, a gusty sigh escaped his lips.

“Plan B then,” he muttered, his voice laced with resignation.

The queue leading into the induction center stretched for what seemed like miles. Tracing its path with a sinking heart, a chilling realization dawned on me and settled in my stomach.

There was endless work ahead of us.

The induction center hummed with activity and crackled with a nervous energy as we entered. Sunlight streamed through high ceilings, illuminating rows of tall, numbered privacy screens. Each makeshift booth held a white-clad nurse and a trepidatious recruit clutching a folder.

The Manchester center pulsed with a daily influx of hopeful faces, each ushered through a chaotic dance of physical exams, fingerprints, fitness tests, and dreaded vaccinations. My days blurred into a whirlwind of vision checks, height and weight measurements, and the familiar sting as I administered countless injections.

Most of the men I examined were models of civility, enduring the process with a stoic resolve, a wince of pain at the stick of the needle their only betrayal. Yet a few shattered the façade, their bravado crumbling into crass jokes and unwanted advances. Thankfully though, my uncle was a fortress of composure, and would swiftly shut them down, but each encounter left me with a residue of unease and a tear in my patience.

I wasn’t unused to being flirted with. Now, however, it felt like a relentless barrage, a desperate grasping for normalcy in the face of oblivion. By the end of each day, I felt like I’d fielded more marriage proposals than a fairytale princess. I could hardly blame them, though. These men were teetering on the precipice of war. Desperation hung heavy in the air, clinging to these men about to face the unknown. They would depart with no guarantee of whether they’d ever return.

While I couldn’t offer them a forever, I could offer a gentle smile and as kind of a rejection as I could muster. A disarming act for some, but for others, it wasn’t enough, their misplaced advances requiring security to escort them out.

“Go on, love, give us a chance,” this one man wheedled at my desk after completing his examinations.

I skimmed his file splayed open before me, everything appearing to be in order. ‘Keith Worsley’, it read.

What a cruel joke, I thought, as I stamped his papers for approval, plastering on my most saccharine smile. He practically vaulted the desk, arms outstretched like he was about to give it a big hug.

A firmer approach perhaps, a harsher deflection, would expedite his departure. The insistent line of restless faces behind him fueled my resolve.

“You’ve passed,” I announced, my voice clipped, as I shoved his folder shut, thrusting it towards him. “And there’s a queue.”

He ignored the dismissal, looming closer, his breath a noxious cocktail that I could almost taste on my tongue, threatening to crack my carefully constructed façade.

“You gonna deny a soldier his one shot at happiness?” he pressed, his voice thick with misplaced entitlement.

I sighed internally, a silent scream trapped in my chest.

Efficiency is key, echoed my uncle’s voice in my head. What a struggle that turned out to align to.

“I might die fighting the Nazis,” he continued.

I started to think it funny just how common that sentence turned out to be. And how these men begging for my hand, publicly liked to expose just how self-absorbed they really were. Pathos disguised as romance.

“Let’s live life to the fullest tonight, baby,” he drawled, desperation clinging to his words like a bad cologne. The urge to laugh was a battle I nearly lost, but the bile rising in my throat solidified my resolve, and I leaned in closer, a sugary smile plastered across my features.

“I’m afraid I’d rather be fighting the Nazis,” I quipped.

He clamped onto my arm, a jolt shooting through me.

Perhaps not the best candidate for my newfound ‘ice queen’ persona, I thought.

“Think you’re clever, hm?” he snarled.

Before I could respond, or seek refuge beneath my uncle’s wing, a voice sliced through the tension.

“Get yer coat, mucker, it’s not gonna ‘appen,” it drawled, its tone snarky, dripping with playful menace, and with an undertone of complete and utter disregard for law and custom.

Keith rose from the desk, my hand still hostage in his grip. We saw him simultaneously.

A tall, wiry figure, all straw-blonde hair and icy blue eyes stood behind him in the queue, a scowl twisting his features as he sized Keith up and down, eyes rimmed with lethal venom.

“The fuck you say?” growled Keith, his grip tightening on my arm.

“Y’ heard me.” The blonde dipped his chin. “Now, let go of the lady’s hand. She’s done nothing but take care of ya.”

Kieth obliged before lumbering towards the blonde, towering over him, fixing him with an unwavering glare. But the thick tension ran thin when the blonde suddenly erupted in laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Something funny?” Keith snarled, nostrils flaring.

“Keith? That’s yer name?” the blonde derided, amusement lacing his voice as he nodded at Keith’s dog tag.

A beat of stunned silence followed.

“What about it?” asked Keith hesitantly.

“Well, Keith was always the name of that kid who wore a balaclava till’ April, candle wax snot angin’ from his nose.” The blonde grinned widely.

My jaw clenched to stifle a snort of laughter. What a cheeky fucker, was all I could think, before Keith’s fist met his face with a resounding blow. The blonde was on the floor before anyone could stop it.

Security materialized in seconds, hauling both men out the door in a flurry of limbs and shouted obscenities.

I rubbed a hand over my forehead, the day’s stress settling into my bones. I sighed deeply, before waving forward the next recruit.

The next day was no different. Another deluge of recruits. Hundreds lined up to get their vision checked at my desk, their anxious energy buzzing through the air.

Another folder slapped onto my desk as I was finishing up with the one before. The pen slipped around in my clammy hand, still getting used to the rhythm of work.

I opened the new folder with a practiced flick, my eyes scanning the documents. To service the Royal Navy, HMS Exeter (68).

“Tom Bennett,” I read aloud, already filling out the form.

“Yes, ma’am,” a voice replied promptly, a hint of salt-laced amusement clinging to the words.

“Read row eight for me, please,” I instructed, pointing at the Snellen’s chart over my shoulder, my focus remaining on the papers.

“D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C,” he declared, rather fast, considering the small size of the letters.

“Steady on, sailor,” I chuckled, glancing up.

My breath hitched in my throat.

The tall, straw blonde mischief with the quick wit, a deep purple blooming around his left socket.

“Goodness,” I gasped, my mind scrambling for a more eloquent response.

He flashed his infuriatingly charming grin, pointing at the damage with his thumb. “Y’ should see t’other bloke,” he winked, coaxing a giggle from my lips.

He towered over the desk, his hands folded in front of him, assuming a casual, almost nonchalant posture that somehow commanded attention. His sharp, protruding chin and aquiline nose dominated his features.

But it was his lips that truly captivated me. They were set in a sort of perpetual pout, settling him into a curious air of sensuality that contradicted the hint of arrogance in his demeanor.

Suddenly, my mouth felt dry. Words seemed to evaporate as I looked up at him, a nervous flutter awakening in my chest, and a pulse settling in my core.

“Thank you,” I managed, a wave of unexpected gratitude washing over me at the thought of this stranger taking a punch for my dignity. “For yesterday, I mean.”

He dipped his head a fraction. “Come on,” he lulled, wetting his lips. “Who wouldn’t lend a hand to a lady in distress?”

A hesitant smile touched my lips, sweeping a glance around the room before meeting his gaze again. “A lot of people,” I countered.

He scrunched his nose and curled his lips. “Bunch of wankers, the lot of them.”

I offered him an amused smile as his eyes settled on my face, a playful smirk slowly tugging at the corner of his mouth as our gazes lingered a beat too long. The intensity sent a blush creeping up my neck. Flustered, I ducked my head to his file, though the words swam before me, my eyes failing to comprehend regular English.

“No worries like,” he said, pointing at his papers. “I’m mint in my file, healthy as a horse.”

“Right,” I replied, checking off the twenty-twenty vision, hearing, and speech. “Procedure demands a full exam, though,” I said, rising from my chair.

“Ey?” He cocked his eyebrows, his eyes following me towards the privacy screen. “Y’ gonna examine me?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Please, step behind here,” I said, gesturing behind the screen.

His eyes sparked with satisfaction as he rounded the desk towards me, his gaze fixed on me with a mischievous glint, his hand brushing me in passing as he slipped around me behind the screen, sending a warm current through my body. I followed suit, my mind suddenly a blur, as I attempted to regain my composure, busying myself with sterilizing equipment, discarding used needles, and filling new syringes with vaccines, all the while feeling his gaze on me.

“Alright, so… how’s this whole exam thing gonna work then?” he asked, restless fingers exploring my equipment.

I gently swatted his hand away, a wry smile playing on his lips.

“We’ll start off with a quick height and weight measurement,” I explained. Tom nodded and started towards the scale. “Then, you’ll need to undress and I’ll…”

“Whoah…” he countered, stopping in his tracks. “Undress?” he repeated, his voice darkening beneath something amused.

“Well, yes,” I confirmed, raising an eyebrow. “Were you never briefed beforehand, Mr. Bennett?”

Tom curled his lips.

“Did they not tell you what to expect?” I clarified.

“Never stuck ‘round for that long. Just thought it’d be a quick look in me gob and I’d be sorted,” he drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face. “But if y’ want me to get me gear off, just say the word,” he rumbled, looking me up and down.

The audacity of his suggestion both flustered me and strangely titillated me. I fought back a laugh from the utter impertinence of his man, channeling my frustration into professional courtesy.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Mr. Bennett,” I said, forcing a politeness into my voice, though betrayed by a hint of mirth despite my best efforts.

“For you,” he said, curling his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I cleared my throat to steady my beating heart, and began to explain the procedure to him, in the most professional way possible. But as I did, his face grew more and more smug.

“Christ,” he muttered, elation sparking in his eyes. “Least let a bloke buy ya a drink first.”

“The doctor will be conducting most of the physical examination,” I informed him, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

“That’s a shame,” he droned.

I studied him with disbelief, to which a cheeky smirk curled his lips.

“Yer hands all over me. Mind ya, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” I said, rolling my eyes as I pulled the latex on my hands.

“Wouldn’t be needing those either,” he said, nodding at my gloves. “Wouldn’t want ya choking your lovely hands on my account.”

“Let’s keep it professional, Mr. Bennett,” I countered, a playful edge to my voice as I slipped on the second glove.

He sniffled. “Mmhm,” he hummed, his lips pursing defiantly.

“Right,” I said, clicking my pen to the ready. “Let’s get started.”

“Fire away, love,” he drawled, his amusement an inescapable distraction.

I took a deep breath, willing my butterflies to settle.

“Would you mind emptying your pockets and stepping onto the scale for me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and began rummaging through his pant pockets, pulling out a metal lighter, a packet of fags, some pounds, and his ID. He placed them in the bowl I held out and hopped onto the scale. I noted down his weight and height.

“Excellent. Now, please remove your shirt.”

A satisfied glint lit up his eyes. He clicked his teeth and crossed his arms over his stomach. “Quite like bein’ ordered about,” he said, before pulling the shirt over his head.

“I suppose you have to get used to it,” I replied, my eyes flickering over his toned chest, his dog tag nestling between his pectoral muscles. Turning away to grab the measuring tape, I silently berated myself for the warmth blooming up my neck.

“Wouldn’t be ‘alf as good from anyone else, though,” his voice, a low rumble, sent shivers down my spine.

When I pivoted back, his height loomed over me, his hands clasped behind his back in a soldierly posture that accentuated his broad shoulders and chest, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

“Would you mind…?” My voice trailed off as I hesitated to make physical contact. Unlike the others I’d processed with practiced efficiency, the thought of touching him set my nerves on fire. “Standing like this for me?” I finally managed, my voice a gentle whisper, my hands reaching out to gently unclasp his from behind his back, raising them straight outward. “Perfect.”

I drew closer. The scent of him, a mix of clean sweat, tobacco, and bad decisions, filled my senses as I reached around him to fit the measuring tape around his shoulder blades. As I straightened to fix it around his chest, I caught him observing me. The playful glint had softened, replaced by a simmering intensity that sent a warm tremor through me. I half expected him to lay an inappropriate or snarky comment, but a beat of charged silence hung in the air, save his breathing which had gotten slightly labored.

I quickly recorded the measurement and released the tape. “Perfect,” I said, a touch too brightly, charging my voice to attempt to salvage my composure. “You may lower your arms.” Scribbling the numbers in his file, I forced myself to focus on the next task. “I will have a look at your teeth next,” I said, picking up the light source and a wooden spatula.

“Alright,” he said. He dipped his chin for me to reach, his lips pouting with arrogant sensuality, as I approached him.

His presence consumed me. His scent, the warmth of his body, mere inches from my own, radiated through me like electricity. I hesitated again.

“I don’t bite,” he grinned, to which I rolled my eyes, and placed my hand to his chin in defiance. His timber lowered into a throaty whisper, “Only if ye ask me nicely.”

My breathing shallowed, heat shot through me like licking flames, my heart drumming against my ribs. “Good to know,” I said, attempting to sound unbothered, tilting his head toward me. “Say ‘Ah’.”

“Ahhhhh…”

I depressed his tongue with the spatula and examined his teeth, making a mental note of the slight misalignment of his incisors. “Bite down,” I instructed. Another minor misalignment appeared. “Hmm,” I murmured, and released him, noting it down in his file.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Did you have braces as a child?” I inquired, setting down the equipment.

He scoffed. “Fuck nah. That gear’s for mugs only.”

His foul mouth was disarming

“I see,” I said, before I turned and started towards him. His eyes had become hooded, the ice melted into a dark sea, holding a challenge I couldn’t quite decipher. His lips inched up into an askew smile that pitted his cheek as I reached for his face again. I felt a prickle of awareness as his gaze flickered down my body, before returning to my face.

I palpated along his jaw, starting below his ears, then down towards his throat. He sighed deeply. His skin was so very warm beneath my fingers.

“Been experiencing any fever or illness of late?” I asked, my fingers continuing the path down his neck. His gaze flicked to my lips.

“No,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

He was extremely warm. Borderline feverish.

“Currently on any medications?” My fingers continued down his broad neck, down to his collarbones. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and his ‘no’ came out hoarse and shaky.

I systematically checked the rest of his body for abnormalities, checking for any bruises, hernias, anything deviating. His breath hitched as my fingers grazed his arm, then the other. Then I took a turn about him, checking his neck, shoulders and back. My eyes travelled lower, and something fluttered through my stomach.

He had a very cute butt.

He tilted his head to the side when I came around him, a devilish grin on his lips.

“What d’ya reckon, doc? See somethin’ y’ like?”

“Everything seems to be in order,” I announced, going to stand in front of him, ignoring his blatantly rude comment. “Just like you claimed, healthy as a horse.”

A satisfied grin tugged at his lips, “Told ya.”

“Now for the really tricky part,” I continued, watching Tom’s smug grin slowly fade from his face as my uncle emerged from behind the privacy curtain.

“How are we doing in here then, Y/N?”

“All done, Dr. Clark. He’s all yours,” I confirmed, a hint of amusement dancing in my eyes. Tom’s confusion was a welcome change to his previous arrogance.

Dr. Clark cleared his throat and flipped through the file. “Mr. Bennett,” he addressed and looked up. “For the lower body examination, please remove your trousers,” he said, smacking his gloves into place.

Tom looked to me, a silent plea I readily understood, and I flashed him with a sweet smile.

“Good luck, Mr. Bennett,” I sang, tearing the gloves from my hands.

He turned to my uncle, then hesitated. “Could I…” Then he cleared his throat, his voice lowering to a whisper, though loud enough that I could hear before I vanished behind the screen. “Could I have a moment?”

The next day, a familiar name landed on my desk at the vaccination booth.

As I looked up, intense blue eyes met mine.

“Mr. Bennett,” I greeted him professionally, though something stirred within my chest.

“Y/N,” he said with a charming grin which made my heart trip over its next beat.

Fuck. He must’ve heard my name from my uncle yesterday.

“And please,” he continued. “Call me Tom.”

“Alright, Mr. Bennett. Right this way,” I said, rising from my chair.

He hesitated at first, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he obliged and rounded the desk, following me behind the screen.

“Pull down your trousers and lean over,” I instructed before he could manage to land some witty remark.

“Actually, I-,” he started.

“Chop chop, sailor,” I interrupted, ushering him to the table. “We haven’t got all day.”

“Right uh… Like this?” he asked, his back turned to me, his cheeks exposed before me.

I looked him over. “That’s right…” I said absently, my eyes travelling.

Focus.

As I readied the vaccine, a beat of awkward silence stretched between us before Tom spoke again, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“So, listen uh…” he began, clearing his throat, an unfamiliar vulnerability lacing his voice that unsettled me. My gaze drifted to the way his jaw clenched, a flicker of some apprehensive in his eyes. Was he scared of needles or something? “I know a lot of these other blokes been causing ye trouble and that, and uh…”

Gosh, he was so fucking cute when he was nervous.

“I was wonderin’ like…” He rubbed his chin in his hand. “Would you want to like…” His fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm on the table, attempting to urge his words forward. “Maybe…” His voice trailed off, searching for the right turn of phrase.

Oh god, he was about to ask me out.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I loaded the syringe in a nervous blur, and tapped out the bubbles at the top.

“Like… wanna go out with me – argh!” His whole body cramped up as I stabbed the needle into his butt cheek.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I poke too deep?” I asked with feigned concern.

A throaty groan escaped his lips. “Clattered me bones, I think,” he wheezed, his head bent over the table, swaying slightly as he held onto it for support.

“Go on, sailor. You can take it,” I said gently, patting his back as he pulled his trousers back up, groaning as he went.

I thought he must’ve forgotten what he was about to say, because he started staggering out of the booth, one hand rubbing his arse.

“Nah, hang on,” he said, turning on his heel, his jaw ticking with determination. “Listen, I really wanna take ya.”

My cheeks flared red. “Excuse me?”

Alarm sparked in his eyes, as if just realizing what he’d said. “Out!” He corrected. “I’d really wanna take y’ out. That weren’t meant to come out like that.”

Suddenly he started acting very strange. It started with staggering. He steadied himself on the IV pole at his side, the metal rattling under his weight.

“Mr. Bennett?” I asked, approaching him slowly, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head to his senses, “Just gon’ a bit… wobbly, is all.”

Something dawned on me. I snatched his file from the table and opened it. ‘Andrew Howarth’ was hidden beneath a sticker of Tom’s alias.

I slammed it back down on the table, my voice sharpening. “Have you already had this shot?” I demanded, turning back to him, venom lacing my voice.

“Well,” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering. “Just t’ once.” Then his head hit the floor.

Exhaustion gnawed as I exited the doors to the induction centre, the hours of work settling heavy on my cognition. The golden glow of lampposts cast long, spidery shadows across the slick cobblestones as I descended the stairs. The memory of Tom swam up before me, his handsome face against the cold floor, concern flooding me after his fainting spell. I recalled him muttering incoherently in my lap as a crowd gathered, my uncle eventually pushing through to help.

A warmth, unexpected and foreign, bloomed in my chest. He’d taken a punch to the face during our very first encounter, then nearly experienced an anaphylactic shock trying to ask me out on a date. Underneath that snarky, arrogant mask, I believed, was something so much deeper.

My heels clicked against the stone as I approached the car. I opened the door and slid inside, just starting to pull it shut when a voice echoed from outside.

“Y/N!”

A jolt of adrenaline shot through me as I saw a figure jogging up the street towards me, hands shoved in their jacket pockets.

A thrill sparked in my chest as they drew closer. I flung the car door open again and stepped out.

“Hello, Mr. Bennett,” I uttered, attempting to hide the shakiness in my voice as he approached. “How are you feeling?”

“Made up,” he said, flashing a lopsided grin, and I noted that the purple around his eye had deepened somewhat. “You?”

A laugh, tinged with delirious exhaustion, escaped my lips. I shrugged. “Pretty knackered, actually.”

Tom’s grin diluted slightly, as a concerned frown etched his features. “Course y’ are! Made up you’re knackered after all that!” There was a soft concern in his voice that spun in my ears like silk. I smiled at him as a comfortable silence settled between us. But when I turned my heel slightly on the cobble, he spoke up.

“Listen, uh…” he began, putting honey in his voice. “Before all of that with the fainting,” he said, drawing closer. “I wanted to ask ye out.”

I smiled, nodding. “I know,” I admitted softly. “It was pretty obvious.”

A cheeky grin lit up his features, and he tilted his head. “So…” He pursed his lips. “What d’ya say, doc?” His voice lowered into a gentle caress, and I felt his fingers brush against mine ever so lightly. “I need someone lookin’ after me while I recover,” he winked.

I couldn’t keep from smiling, my gaze drifting down to the cobblestones, as I considered his request.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” he said, grinning, coaxing a laugh from me.

Exhaustion threatened to pull me under, but a different kind of weight settled in my stomach as I met his gaze. He was off to war, soon to be on a ship across the Atlantic, with no notion of when he’d be back. If he’d ever be back…

Dread coiled in my stomach.

If he was going to die, we should at least live tonight.

I winced internally at the cheesy quote from that Keith bloke. But it was the only thing that seemed to fit the urgency in my heart.

“Alright,” I heard myself say.

“Yeah?” Tom’s voice dripped with elation, a melody that tugged at my already strained emotions. “C’mon then,” he said, offering me his arm. “Everyone reckons a cold brew sorts ye right out after a dizzy dossin’.”

A honeyed glow emanated from The Old Wellington, pulling us like moths to a flame. Inside, a vibrant symphony of voices rose and fell, punctuated by the melodic clinking of glasses. The air thrummed with the mingled aromas of spilled ale, aged leather, and an undercurrent of cigarette smoke. Tom, a whirlwind of charismatic energy, navigated the throng, his smile as familiar as the worn grooves on a favorite record, his banter bouncing off patrons like playful echoes. Their easy camaraderie spoke of a shared history, a hidden world I longed to decipher. Here, in the heart of Manchester, I was an explorer in a land of unknown faces and customs, adrift but not entirely lost. But when he grabbed my hand and pulled us towards the bar, none of it mattered.

“A pint and a gin martini, if y’ would, Kristina,” he tossed over his shoulder to the bartender.

The cheek of this man. Did he just assume what I’d be drinking?

“A gin martini? Really?” I arched an eyebrow, a playful challenge in my voice.

He pivoted towards me, a smug pout plastered on his lips, one hand casually tucked in his pant pocket as he leaned against the worn wood.

“Thought y’ might need a touch of sophistication, ya know, a taste of the high life,” he drawled, his eyes twinkling with something akin to a dare.

And I was up for the challenge.

I snorted and mirrored his stance, my arms crossing atop the bar in a playful imitation. “Do elaborate,” I replied, my voice laced with amusement.

A genuine grin erupted across his face. “Well, gin martinis are for proper ladies like, the kind with a bit of mystery and that,” he said, his voice dropping a touch lower. “Like yourself,” he finished, wetting his lips as his eyes flicked briefly down my body.

A shiver danced down my spine and vibrated in my stomach.

“So, a woman of intrigue is defined by her choice of beverage?” I countered, cocking my eyebrows in defiance, a playful glint in my eyes.

He shook his head ever so lightly, a flicker of something deeper gracing his features, like I’d totally missed his point. “Nothin’ could ever define ya, love. Y’ more than a drink,” he said, his voice growing suddenly serious.

A warmth bloomed in my chest. This cocky charmer held an unexpected sweetness beneath the surface, a complexity that piqued my curiosity even further.

Kristina placed our drinks on the bar and Tom slid a bill across to her. “Cheers, Kristina.”

I nodded at his pint. “So, you’re a lager then,” I joked.

He tilted his head, a dimple flashing in his cheek. “A simple brew for a simple bloke,” he said, placing the rim to his lips and taking a swig.

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re anything but simple, Tom.”

“Seems my theory holds some water, then,” he grinned, mischief glittering in his eyes.

He pulled his packet of fags from his pocket and lit one with a practiced flick, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked in. Smoke curled from his lips in a grey cloud, momentarily obscuring him in a hazy veil. In that moment, a strange desire flickered within me – to be the tobacco stick consumed by his flame.

“Fancy one?” he offered.

“Why not?” I said, watching him already pull a second one out of the pack, putting it to my lips, the subtle graze of his fingers against me singeing my skin like hot coal.

“So, what d’ya think of the war then?” he said, flicking the lighter shut.

I exhaled, tapped the ash, and pursed my lips. “That there must be a better way to solve conflict.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. He pointed at me with the cigarette wedged between his fingers. “You and me dad would get along,” he stated.

Intrigued, I leaned in. “How so?”

He took a blow of his cigarette before he answered. “He’s a conscientious objector,” he said, breathing a plume of smoke.

“You clearly don’t share his sentiment,” I said, stirring my drink with the olive stick.

Tom curled his lips, a furrow etching between his brows, his finger flicking ashes into the ashtray. “Let’s just say it was either this or a stint in Her Majesty’s finest accommodation.” He rubbed his nose, a cocky sniff escaping him, as if the topic was bothersome. “Not exactly dad’s proudest moment.” His voice lowered somewhat, his fingers tapping atop the bar.

My eyes skimmed his fidgeting hands in contemplation. He’d enlisted for redemption, though I wasn’t exactly surprised he was a troublemaker, lacing him with even more intrigue than I had expected.

The liquor flowed freely as he unraveled his story – his pacifist father, the ache of losing his mother young, his spirited sister who appeared to have stepped into their mother’s shoes. With each revelation, an invisible thread tightened between us, drawing our bodies closer, a silent conversation blooming beneath our skin.

By the time I finished my second martini, a reckless glint danced in my eyes, my fingers feeling daring and loose. They brushed down his arm while he was talking. My gaze flickered to his lips, a silent invitation. Tom, immersed in some topic I’d failed to keep up with, trailed his hand up my side absently, his fingers grazing my hips, up to my waist, his body radiating into me, my mind consumed by his scent as I attempted to focus on his words.

A husky chuckle grazed my ear. “A bit bevvied, are we?” he whispered into it, his voice laced with amusement.

“Not any more than you,” I countered.

“Pfft,” he said, frowning theatrically and pursing his lips. “I’m off the wagon.”

His hand drifted down my back, a single finger tracing a tempting path to my tailbone, the motion sending sparks downward. Desire flared within me, a wildfire consuming my inhibitions, fueled by the euphoric buzz of the alcohol. I leaned into him until I could feel his breath mixed with liquor and tobacco upon my lips. My fingers came up to his chest, my lips savoring his every breath like it was life itself. I just needed him to make a move. Close the gap between us. Draw his tongue into my mouth so that I could taste it. But he was still, ragged breaths fanning me, his muscles drawn taut beneath my fingers.

“Fancy a change of scenery?” I whispered against his mouth.

“Bet,” he mumbled, his voice thick, before creating distance between us, the electricity cut, sparking like static. His hand in mine, he steered me out of the pub, the night air a stark contrast to the heat that had been building inside me...

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Divider by: @saradika

A part 2 is planned soon!

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anemonelovesfiction · 1 year

Text

I’ve Neglected you Far Too Long

Ao’nung x Hybrid Fem! Reader

No mentions of Y/n though but its implied. Obviously they’re adults- I quite literally mention Ao’nung has tattoo’s. And obviously theres some smut.

Kind of like an arranged marriage scenario. Any words in English are stricken through. If they’re in italics its just emphasis on that word. Starts off with a bit of background, smut is near the end lol, but its a lot of it.

Word count: 9.2K because I got carried away.

I would say it started with my birth. I was granted the luck of being born Kiri’s twin, with a few minor setbacks, although to Neytiri they were enough to refuse taking me in as her own. I was born with the size and appearance of a human- but I was a halfbreed. My features were human but I was the one born with fangs and I had a kuru as well but it was relative to my size, it was still encased in a big braid and reached past my butt, almost mid thigh, yet still had the natives squinting to see it.

If it wasn’t for Jake pointing out that I had a queue and didn’t need an exomask to breathe, one of the Metkayina warriors would have thrown their spear, killing me. I was captured alongside Spider, when they put me in the machine they’d put Spider in, it awakened some telekinetic abilities I didn’t know I had.

But they’re tied to my emotions and I could only ever really use them if I felt strongly about something. Which is why I was able to help kill most of the humans that had hunted the tulkun, I had enough of their interrogations and abuse.

After losing Neteyam, Ronal and Tonowari welcomed the Sully’s into the Metkayina, and were willing to accommodate for Spider only if I were to marry their son. Their reason being that my telekinetic abilities - which seemed to surpass Kiri’s in their eyes- could protect their clan and son if anything like that happened again.

Ronal disliked that I was half human, she didn’t really want me to marry her son with my outward appearance- like one of the tawtute- sky people- but if I could be used to protect her dear son, thats all that mattered to her, keeping her lineage going.

“We could unite the reef clans and forest people.”

Were Neytiri’s words after Ronal had brought up her reasoning. Tonowari had stayed silent with his hands on his knee’s. It was Ronal’s idea for them to kneel so I wouldn’t feel intimidated by their height, but I’m shorter than most humans, so they were still a good head taller than me, maybe two.

“Of course this is your choice, kid.” Jake stated carefully, his hand movements mimicking that of a calm ultimatum, and this was anything but.

I nodded once, then walked out of the tent and sat by the beach. I couldn’t think of anyone other than Spider. If he were to go back to the Omaticaya, he’s be lonely. His entire life revolved around the Sully’s and I couldn’t risk him being kicked out, and I refused to spend any more time away from my sister.

I’d gotten an earful from Neytiri that day about being disrespectful to the clan leaders for leaving the way I did. I had no idea how to respond and she despised me- had I looked like Kiri I’m sure the story would be different, but I’m not like her, my genetics decided to mute the blue and because of that, I’d forever be treated as a human by Neytiri- even if I could breathe the same air as her, even if I can make tsaheylu.

And it has lead me to being bathed in scents that Ao’nung found pleasing. Neytiri and Jake were allowed to voice their opinion on the matter and Jake had mentioned that this smelled of raspberries back on earth.

As tradition, the mother of the groom and any female sibling, or honorary females washed the bride in the scents and got her ready for her soon-to-be husband. And all of the males near and dear to my heart would do the same to the groom. In this case I had told them not to do anything to change his appearance and to leave him as is. Even if he’d made up with Lo’ak, I could never forget the face he made after finding out he was betrothed to me. The shock in his face said it all, he didn’t want me, and I didn’t want him either but at least I was cordial about it.

I had no idea how big of a celebration this would be. Everyone from the clan walked up and wished blessings upon us, a fruitful- and fertile- marriage. I’m glad I stuck around with Spider and learned Na’Vi while we were kids as a lot of the well wishes were very long and I’d kick myself in the face if I had to childishly reply with broken Na’Vi.

Nothing happened that night.

Don’t get me wrong I’m excited and happy we didn’t do what I was told married couples do by Neytiri. She went into greater detail than Norm did about mating as a Na’Vi and how the tsaheylu was a crucial part of becoming connected to ones mate. Most nights I was ignored and we’d go to sleep on separate mats. I’d need to start Tsahik training but I’d need to learn the things Tsireya had learned when she was younger and work my way up in rank. Because of this, Lo’ak was in the lead of becoming Olo’eyktan considering he’s earned their trust and Tsireya knew more about healing.

_________

“The tattoo’s have different meanings and what one curve could mean for someone, it could be translated differently in another clan members markings.” Tsireya mentions while showing me two nearly identical tattoo’s.

“These are almost identical.” I stated blankly and giggled, placing her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter.

“Yes but you noticed the difference between the two, you said almost. Explain what you see.” She asks.

“This one has what appears to be a smoother execution. This one seems bold, like you used a darker ink? It has jagged edges too.”

“The first one was for a warrior who had just had his inknimaya. Everything went well for him and the skimwing he had bonded with. For the second, not so much, he experienced much pain and eventually managed to execute it perfectly.”

“The second tattoo is slightly bigger, could this indicate multiple tries to his inknimaya?”

“You are a quick learner.” Tsireya smiles at me and I smile back. It wasn’t hard to be genuine around her and she made it hard to hate her. She’s seen me naked more times than my own husband, and she’d only seen me before I got married to him.

By the end of the lesson she struggles to get on her feet from kneeling in front of me and I feel terrible.

“You don’t always have to kneel for us to be the same height, Tsireya. If you wanted to stand I wouldn’t mind.” This isn’t the first time I tell her.

“I need to be flexible.” She states happily.

“For who, Lo’ak?” I ask and start laughing at her embarrassed face.

“I’m sorry, Rey, but these jokes just come naturally to me, I can’t stop them when my tongue is faster than my mind.” I giggle as she huffs and turns her head.

“I’ll make the same jokes when you are with child.”

“No you won’t.” Partly because I’ve yet to consummate my marriage. “I don’t even know if we could have kids considering I’m a half-breed that looks human.” I stated aloud.

“Toruk Macto is a half breed.” She states as if it were obvious.

“Yes, but he has the appearance of a native. It’s easier for him to blend in. Lo’ak is also a half breed and he too can hide with the rest of the Na’Vi. I’m-“ I stop myself before saying anything too harsh, or she’d scold me. “-different.”

“The kind of different my brother needs in his life. Keep trying for children and I will pray that the great mother blesses you!” She says over enthused.

“Sure.” I stated simply, smiling at her. We said our goodbyes and I headed off toward his marui pod.

_________

“Where have you been?”

“With your sister. Learning.” I stated, I’ve grown to know Ao’nung likes short answers and to never bother him when he was entranced with something- whether it was learning a new trick on a skimwing or sparring. I placed my medical bag down- Kiri made this one for me as a present and I never went anywhere without it.

I can feel his eyes on me while I search in a big box for some herbs to refill my bag. The bag hangs over my chest and does a good job of hiding my stomach- not that its big, I hide it from the sun since I’m often exposed. I’d learned to wear traditional clothes and the loincloths were made in children's size due to my stature. The top was something Kiri had to teach me to make- it resembles a human sports bra but matching my loincloth.

My loincloth was traditional in every sense except it didn’t have a hole for a tail, but it still adjusted and tied off on the side, just like everyone else's.

“Are you hurt?” I ask him once I refill my bag and look up to face him. I’d known of his tattoo’d arms but the one on his face was new. It made his eyes pop and he looked handsome- but that didn’t matter.

“What?” He asks as of he hadn’t heard me before.

“Are you hurt. Do you need something from me?” I asked him and he understands what I mean.

“No.” He answers and turns his face toward the side to look at the floor of his- our, because it technically is ours- marui.

“Then I will head out and assist.” I answered not really caring to give him a chance to respond- let alone process- what I said. But he was faster than I was and his hand reached around my bicep and that stopped me.

He was never one to touch me. Not when it came to helping me learn the way of his village, not now, and not even on our wedding night. I press my teeth on my tongue to prevent myself from saying something smart and I turn to face him. I refuse to talk as I’d always found some way to offend him with whatever I said so I waited for him to speak.

“Do you resent me?” He asks simply and this question is a slap to my face. My face only forms in confusion as my eyebrows knit together and my eyes squint slightly.

“I don’t-“ I began but stopped myself from speaking as he lets go of my bicep. I look over at his hand and back at him feeling more confusion than ever.

“I see.” He answers plainly and I furrow my brows some more before raising one and looking at him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to.” He answers simply and I feel like I’d immediately done something wrong again. “Your face said everything your words could not.”

“But-“

“You should go out and assist my sister. Let her know I held you back if she asks why you are late.” He states before walking past me and heading out the opening of the marui with his spear.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding once the curtain fell shut again. Of course I resented him, he was rude, underestimated me in everything, and never made an effort to get to know me. But I hadn’t said any of that to his face and I was in control of my emotions and knew I didn’t make a face of disgust- but why did he ask the question in the first place?

_________

“Did you talk to her?” Spider asks as soon as Ao’nung joins the hunting party. Due to his inability to bond with the animals he often rode with Lo’ak.

“Yes.” Ao’nung answered.

“Is she coming to the party tonight?” Lo’ak asks after lightly nudging between Spider’s hips to quiet the grown man in front of him, he sure was nosey today.

“I did not ask.” Ao’nung answers and Spider grumbles.

“The whole point was to-“ Spider stops himself when Lo’ak’s Ilu immediately surges forward. And the hunt began.

_________

“Theres a lot of people gathering for something outside. Was there something planned for today? Did I have to do something?” I asked nervously once Ao’nung had come into the marui. He must have showered at some point because he didn’t smell like sea air like he usually does after a hunting trip.

“The celebration of our union.” Is all he says while placing his spear on the wall along with his others.

“But we-“

“It’s what you call an Annie-server.” He states in his best english and given the severity of my nerves I couldn’t find the way he fudged up the words funny at this time.

“It hasn’t been a year yet-“ I stop myself as he walks over to pick the accessories he never touches, taking the ones he has on and replacing them with those.

“Has it?” I ask myself quietly.

“It has.” He answers and stops in front of me. One hand on my shoulder but its immediately removed when I look at it.

“Please put these on.” He hands me a matching pair, the one from our wedding- union as they call it. It’s supposed to show that we are harmonious. I try to tie the bands on my anklet together but my fingers keep fumbling and I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Let me help you.” He sits in front of me and offers his hand to take my leg.

“No-“ He takes my leg after letting out a small hiss of his own and sets it on top of his thigh where he leans over and carefully ties the bands together. His hands on my ankle sends a shiver up my spine.

“It’s only done the first year. They will ask invasive questions. I’m glad my sister convinced you to use the soap. Come.” He stands quickly and heads over to the entrance of the marui.

He holds the flap of the curtain open for me to walk through. I was going to comment on why his hair was undone but was met with a bunch of cheers and a celebratory song. I’m awestruck as the clan starts parting and a walkway is created for me. I follow them and end up near the front.

“We have come to celebrate the night this union was made one year ago.” Ronal smiles big at the clan as she announces her words.

“It is time to take on the tradition of the couples.” Tonowari joins in and the crowd basically goes wild. I stand with a fake smile plastered on my face.

“Ao’nung. Face your bride.” Tonowari speaks once more and he steps up in front of me before kneeling respectfully taking my hand and kissing it, making a majority of the girls awe at his gesture, but I knew better, it was a show. I let go of his hand quickly and awaited further instruction.

“This is our clans best kept secret. You will braid his hair to your liking as a symbol of life's twists and turns bringing you together. And he is to maintain the hairstyle or one similar for the rest of his life as his devotion to you.” Ronal states.

My eyes widened and I’m fucked. I can braid for sure, all thanks to Tuk, Kiri, and Neteyam consistently asking me to braid their hair often, but I didn’t know about this was a requirement. If Lo’ak and Tsireya were to have wedded before myself and Ao’nung I would have expected this. But they married about four weeks after we did. And Ao’nung doesn’t let anyone touch his hair. My eyes wandered over to find his staring back at me and I looked down releasing quiet but heavy exhale.

“But before we start, you are to drink this.” Ronal hands me a cup thats decently sized, still huge in comparison to me but good enough to grab.

“This is made up of many many plants and fruits from our clan and has been prayed over with many blessings poured into it from the beginning of the process.” Ronal informs me.

“This drink is to be shared between the two of you. You will speak many blessings in it yourself- in a hushed voice, take a drink and you will hand it off to your mate to receive the blessings.” Ronal smiles and hands the cup over to me.

I’m nervous as shit and am worried I might say the wrong thing but am glad it doesn’t have to be shared aloud. And I take a look into the cup and see the deep red liquid inside and sigh.

“Treat me like the mate I ought to be treated and my face won’t show resentment again.” I whispered into it and took a big chug- considering there was a lot of liquid in there.

I walk over toward Ao’nung and hand him the cup I’d just drank from and he drinks the rest. The cheers coming from the crowd make my tummy tingle and I start feeling weird. I should probably ask Tsireya what kinds of things were included in there to see if its compatible with my human half.

“You may begin.” Tonowari gently nods his head once at me and I nod.

“Could-“ I stop myself and Ao’nungs eyes are burning in mine and nervously chuckle, averting my eyes once more.

“Could you please turn so I can reach your head, Yawne?” I blush harshly at that and the positive whispers in the crowd are making me feel uncomfortable, but I always had to put on a show for them. Ao’nung nods once and does as I ask and I put myself to work.

His tail wraps loosely on my calf and it feels warm. I’m sure this is all for the sake of appearance but it makes it feel like it’s a smidge hard to breathe. I won’t lie, after a long day of chores, or whatever strenuous activity Ao’nung has done his hair looks the best right before he showers. Pieces of it have come out of the braids and are clinging to his face by his sweat- no, stop it.

I’d worked diligently and managed to create the hairstyle he always wears. Except some of the braids on the sides twist to form X’s.

“You barely changed it.” Ao’nung states after feeling around and turning to face me.

“This is how you look best, to me.” I admit.

“Especially when some of these,“ I gently yank out the loose pieces I’d failed to tuck in properly. “Slip out. Like after you finish working.” I find myself gingerly placing my hand on his cheek, I look down at his lips and my eyes slightly widen at my own actions before I remove my hand slowly, making my movements not show how we truly are with one another, and taking a step back.

Several one of the younger girls had held on to the boys courting them and mentioned how they wanted a love like ours and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If only they knew what our Love really was.

“The last thing for you to do is to decide which one of these your mate has prepared. This will also test to see how well you notice our signature hunting mark.” Tsireya steps back and reveals three fish total that had been cooked. If he managed to hunt with Lo’ak and Spider I’d be more willing to pick out Spiders pathetic excuse of a hunt since he did things the human way. Then I’d have to compare it to Lo’ak’s which might resemble both clans hunting and preparing skills into one and choose the one that least resembled the two. But if they decided to choose at random from other clansmen, I’m screwed.

It suddenly felt like my body temperature had risen and I could feel the slight stickiness that forms on my skin before I start sweating and I feel slightly uncomfortable. I take a look at the three and can tell which one Spider made and fight the urge to giggle. He has talent, but sometimes massacres his huntings, whether he did this on purpose or not I’m thankful to Eywa.

The next two are hard to tell as they’re on similar plates and dished the same. So I focus in depth on the one in the middle and notice it’s one of Lo’ak’s favorite fish to hunt and I want to look at the boy and thank him, but instead look up to Tsireya and smile.

“The one on the left.” I point to it and she smiles back.

“How do you know?” Tsireya asks.

“The cutting pattern is one he chooses often and he knows this is my favorite fish.” I hold a hand on my chest for sentimental value.

The party continued without a hitch and I started feeling hotter by the second before excusing myself while everyone was either drunk, picking at the food table, dancing, or even singing I managed to slide my feet in the water and felt myself cool down significantly.

“Enjoying your anniversary?” Lo’ak asks me as he comes up behind me.

“Sure. Just glad its you and not any nosey person asking me invasive questions. I had an elder ask me if he’s good in bed. I had to lie to someone about my non-existent sex life.”

Lo’ak lets out a laugh and places his arm around me. For being more human appearing than him he always treated me as an equal. I appreciate him for doing that, even if I wasn’t technically adopted alongside Kiri, he always called me his sister.

“What was in that drink?” I asked him and he shrugs.

“I thought you’d know, but I think Tsireya said something about it containing an aphrodisiac?” Lo’ak states and I laugh.

“Come on bro,”

“I’m deadass.”

“Even if it did, nothings coming out of it. He hates my guts.” I sigh and bring my knees to my chest.

“He can’t possibly hate you.”

“Yes he does! Every morning I wake up he’s not there. Every time before bedtime I set out his mat since he comes home after I’ve passed out- and I know this because I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and see him on the opposite side of the room dead asleep.”

“Okay but what about that time you said he cuddled you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” He asks.

_________

I lied shivering getting up frequently due to the cold air and having to pee. Ao’nung had come in quite late and I’d woken up for the upteenth time tired as hell and unable to warm myself up.

“Why do you keep getting up. Either stay up or stay asleep.” Ao’nung complains and turns around harshly. I didn’t bother responding as I figured sleep was more important than being petty.

But when I’d finally get comfortable and dozed off, I’d wake up with my teeth chattering and my body shaking, trying to keep warm.

“Aren’t you a half-breed? Why are you still making sounds!” He asks angrily.

“Because I’m still half human! I can withstand colder temperatures than humans can but not by much. Trust me when I tell you I’d much rather be held in captivity and tortured than to be here with you. At least they gave me blankets.” I grumble and get up to go pee once more.

I’d decided to take a long time returning but even when I’d figured he was asleep, as soon as I stepped inside he turned to face me, it looked like he might have been pacing- but I couldn’t be too sure. I’m just glad I went pee before coming back in.

“We do not have blankets right now, but we are often very warm. Maybe if I-“ He gulps. “If I held you, you would not be making noises with your teeth.” He explains.

_________

“Did you take him up on his offer?” Lo’ak asks and I push him.

“I had to. And the next day I asked your mom how the hell I could hand knit a blanket and she made a huge one, thinking it was for us to share. But I didn’t have to bother him on cooler nights again.

“But he did care for you, he came up with a solution.”

“A solution so he could get sleep and my teeth would stop chattering.” I roll my eyes.

“Okay but your favorite fish for today, explain that.” Lo’ak crosses his arms.

“I could easily tell Spider’s mutilation from yours.” I roll my eyes. “And He asked me two days ago what my favorite fish was. I know he hates when I take to long to explain myself- probably because he hates the sound of my voice, so I told him in one simple answer.”

“Did he tell you that?” Lo’ak asks.

_________

“I think I like the tulip thorn because of the way it glows at night. But the stem is also pretty with the way it wraps around and creates a mini shelter. Tuk and I used to take some leaves and tie them down to make a fort and-“

“It was a simple question. I don’t need a story attached to every answer you give me.” He stated harshly.

“Oh,” I state and do a little reflection and cringe at the many times I’d gone off on tangents while talking to him. Or the times when he’d straight up turned and walked out and I’d been left talking to myself for Eywa knows how long.

_________

“You could say that.” I answered back shortly as I didn’t want to bore yet another Na’Vi with my stories.

“Thats all you have to say?” He asks.

“I can tell you just about every negative encounter I had with him and they start from the moment I met him and lead up to this morning. I try to stay out of his way as much as possible. Its all he wants anyway.” I shrug.

“What if he didn’t?” He asks and I look at him wondering what joke he had in mind this time. Tears start to fill my eyes and threaten to fall.

“I don’t think I need a joke about my marriage, Lo’ak.” My voice wavers no matter how strong I wanted to sound.

“Hey, Hey, Hey-“ He’s quick to kneel in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders.

“I wish I could have a love story like you and Reya, or even your parents.”

“I wasn’t making a joke, I swear.”

“I can’t blame you. I’ll never know what its like to be loved.” The tears slide down my cheeks with ease. “I’m stuck with a mate who hates my guts and wishes I was a native with three fingers and three toes instead of this shit-“ I hold out my hands and wiggle my fingers.

_________

“I’m married to you for political appearance. Thats it. And the sooner you can accept that I’d much rather be with my own kind than a four-fingered-freak, the better it will be for you.”

“Don’t think I’m in love with you. You’re an asshole, a jerk, and a bully. Never in my life would I willingly choose someone like you.”

“Then don’t ask me about the status of our marriage anymore. You’re the least attractive thing I could ever lay my eyes on. I won’t ever love you, get that through your thick skull. The sooner the better.”

“You don’t even want to attempt a friendship with me?” I asked taken aback by his outburst.

“With you?” He asks and laughs bitterly. “I want nothing to do with you.” He gets in my face and pushes my chest with two of his fingers to make a point. But I’m not sure how strong he thought I was because he pushes me down. I fall flat on my ass and yelp. Something flashes in his eyes real quick.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t. I receive your message loud and clear.” I swat his hand away and I stand, making sure to walk away as fast as I can.

_________

“That can’t be true,” Lo’ak shakes his head after grabbing my hands with his.

“He might be hard headed but he will come to love you the way I love Tsireya, or how sickeningly my dad loves my mom, or how Spider loves Kiri.”

I hear someone clear their throat from behind myself and I pull my hands from Lo’ak’s and quickly wipe my tears off my face.

“I would like to speak to my mate. Alone.” My shoulders stiffen at his voice and my lower lip trembles.

“It’s okay Lo’ak. Go enjoy the party. I’m sure we’ll head back soon.” I stated as emotionless as possible and he looks between Ao’nung and myself before nodding toward me and walking back. I didn’t look back since I knew him and could hear the clap of his hand on Ao’nungs shoulder. I wish Neteyam were here to witness the amazing man and husband Lo’ak turned out to be for Tsireya.

“May I join you?”

“You requested to speak with me alone.” I stand as I say that.

“Please. Speak.” I state as I try rushing this along. I could feel myself getting warmer, although I’m sure its from the anger I was feeling at him at the moment.

“I-“ He starts speaking and stops. He looks down at the floor and kneels down, the most sincere apology in this clan. “I need to apologize for how I have treated you.”

I can’t help but let out a chuckle at the scenario in front of me and shake my head in disappointment. He furrows the skin where his eyebrows would be if he were human and studies my face.

“What is wrong?” He asks and I feel like a mad woman.

“You expect me to believe you mean that?” I ask him and he looks confused. He makes eye contact.

“You don’t care about me or my feelings, Ao’nung. You only care about your appearance. Tell me that isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you and how I have acted.” He states again and I feel the air being knocked out of my lungs as I let an audible quick exhale and couldn’t breathe in as he held eye contact.

“I have been nothing but ignorant to your needs and I want that to end. I want to get to know you. I want to learn about you.”

“I don’t know what kind of fun party juices you’ve been drinking but I’m not entertaining this. I’ll go talk to your mom and explain we haven’t bonded and you’ll be out of this union.” I start heading back toward the party.

“Please don’t,” He asks under his breath but I heard it, and stupidly turned around.

“This is what you wanted. I’m helping you. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” I scoff. “The girl you want is probably going to be over the moon when she hears you’re single and untouched.” I stated.

“I want you.” He states loudly. Still in his kneeling position.

“What?” I asked him and feel like the world has shifted. The party music had disappeared and it felt like we were the only ones on the beach. He stands and starts walking but picks me up and continues walking.

“I said I want you.” He looks directly in my eyes and holds my stare as he says that, then turns his head back to focus on where he’s going.

“Yeah I heard you the first time.” I uttered and I could feel something snap in my body. The warmth I felt earlier was in my lower belly and I felt the small zing of- no.

“Then why ask?”

“Because theres no way you- woah.” I stated as I looked to see his pupils were huge. Barely any blue coming through. And it took me until now to realize he’d walked us toward our marui pod.

“You smell so good.” He shoves his nose in between my neck and my shoulder and takes a whiff, and I squeak in surprise.

“Yeah its that soap I used when we-“

“Not that smell.”

“Fuck.” I muttered as his voice had gotten deeper for some reason. “What are you doing.” I asked as he had still not let me down.

“I’ve neglected you far too long.” He lays me down and I’m surprised to feel something soft underneath me. I could feel whatever effects of that stupid mystery drink turning me on and I laid there breathing heavily looking at his face.

“May I kiss you?” He asks and I’m too stunned to speak. I look down to his lips but quickly look back up toward his eyes.

“Why are you being nice? Is the juice affecting you too?” I asked and take my hand to feel his forehead since I’d been feeling warm too. He closes his eyes and-

“Are you purring?” I asked as he manages to nuzzle my hand and make it look like I’d been caressing his face.

“May I kiss you, yawne.” He asks again and his eyes are bearing into my soul.

“I don’t- I,” I struggle to even think this through as a flame fans through my body. “Yes.”

And his lips are on mine. He takes one of his hands and places it on my cheek and I instinctively place my hand on his arm. He prods his tongue out to stroke my lip and I squeal and nip at it. He chuckles before continuing to kiss me and peppers my face with kisses as he moves his kisses down my neck.

“Mm-“ I moan as he starts sucking my pulse point and failed to realize my legs wrapped around his waist- chest I suppose.

“Sit up.” I demand and he immediately does so.

“Am I hurting-“

“Shut it.” I stated and sit on his lap. I used my telekinesis to place his hands on my hips and forced his neck down and feverishly kiss him again. He’s fighting himself as I feel him tremble slightly and his grip on my waist only slightly tightens and I’m mildly upset.

“Move my hips on you, do something dammit.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters.

“I’ll tell you if you’ve hurt me by screaming in pain, what I need is friction- yes- holy shit-“ I cut myself off and notice just how big his package feels.

“Did I hurt you?” He stops.

“No, you just feel- huge. Oh my Eywa is it going to fit?” I ramble and he moves me back over his lap and I grunt.

“I pray it does.” He grunts before kissing down my neck once more. His hand trails up to untie my top and I pause.

“May I take this off?” He asks so sweetly and I bite my lip and nod. He pulls the fabric tying it together and it becomes loose, I slip out of it and he goes back to kissing me and I’m disappointed in his silence.

He smiles cockily when he comes up for air and I want to punch his face but he says the sweetest thing before I can form a fist.

“I’m the luckiest man on pandora.” He kisses down my chest and takes one nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue on my nipple.

“Ao’nung,” I moan as he pinches my other nipple.

“I like when you say my name like that.” He speaks directly to me, fully unashamed, and kisses my mouth.

His fingers trail down toward my ass, he cups my cheeks with his massive hands and kneads them, in the process he’s grinding me on his dick.

“Ao’nung-“ I moan again and try to push myself away from him but he takes my mouth into his and places the tip of his tongue in my mouth playfully stroking my own and I’m wet a hell from that action alone- and partly because of that juice.

“Yes, Yawne?”

“Take it off. Now.” I grunt and stand quickly without realizing his hand had already found the string and as I stood, my loincloth was untied and fell off.

“Yeah, luckiest man on Pandora.” He repeats his statement from earlier and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Have you ever-“ I stop myself from speaking and suddenly feel very self conscious.

“No.” He states fully and we both seem to be coming out of whatever the juice was doing to us- but only for a slight second.

“Have you?” He asks me and sits up.

“Never.” I admit and look away but feel my face being pulled back towards his in the gentlest way.

“We will learn with each other. We go as far as you want. I don’t want to pressure you to doing something you do not want.” He reassures me and kisses my lips again.

“So what now?” I asked him and he smiles.

“Lie down my sweet syulang.” He gently nudges me down and I follow his instructions. I can feel whatever flames were in my stomach before start to take over the nerves once again.

“Spread your legs.” He instructs and I follow and look up at the ceiling.

“Look at me, Yawne.” And I do. “You smell so sweet.”

“Wait, what are you-“ I ask before he licks a fat stripe on my pussy and I gasp.

He carefully wedges his tongue to spread my lips apart and I moan as he licks upward. He’s gently holding my thighs open but my hands felt empty. As if reading my mind his hands snake up to hold mine, the fists I once had were now warming up with his hands in them.

“Ao’nung rutxe, don’t st-ahh,” I’m the one letting his hands go and reach down toward his head and manage to tangle my fingers in there well enough to control his heads movements.

“You taste sweet, too.”

I now know why he’d held my thighs open earlier as I’m currently trying to suffocate him with them but the pleasure is too good and his tongue keeps circling on my clit and it all feels so good. And I feel something go in me at a gentle pace and the once building orgasm has muted as I feel it moving around.

“Ah-“ I open my eyes and look down to see he’s got one finger inside me and he’s staring me down. His finger stills but doesn’t pull out.

Does it hurt? He signs with his other hand

“N-no, just different, my fingers aren’t as thick as yours so this feels-“ I stop myself from rambling as he places a second finger in gently and I squeeze down hard.

“Ahh-“ I wince and try to withdraw but he stills my hips.

“Breathe, yawne. If I pull out now it could hurt worse, I will pull out if thats what you want but I’ve been told to tell you it gets better.”

“Told by who,”

“Is that really what you’re worried about?” He asks and I shake my head.

“It helps to forget the pain,”

“I can do that.” He immediately uses his thumb to circle my clit again and the pain subsides.

“Will it fit?” I ask again as his other hand is busy playing with my nipples.

“Yes.” He states but before I can ask if he’s sure he moves up to kiss me, and I just remembered how much bigger he was, yet he was being this gentle with me?

“Go faster my love,” I moan and connect out lips and start feeling pleasure from this experience. And he goes faster.

“Yes that spot, hit that again,” I clench my teeth at the overwhelming feeling I’m getting from his fingers and he smiles.

“Whatever you say, my love,” He smiles genuinely and it melts my heart. He leans down to kiss me again.

“Yes go faster, rutxe,”

“You don’t have to say that for me to go faster. You say and I’ll do. Always.” He says while going faster

“Kiss me.” And he kisses me.

“Again-“ He kisses me again.

“Mate with me,”

He unties his loincloth with one hand and slips out of it easily and the sight of his penis has my eyes widening. He tells me he’s going to slide his fingers out and does so but my eyes are on something else entirely.

“Theres blood on my fingers-“ He stares at his fingers in horror.

“Thats normal- for me.” I take his hand and hold it close to my chest. “On Earth, when you have sex for the first time, this happens. The custom- a long time ago- used to be to do this for the first time in your wedding night with the person you love.”

“It is a sign of loyalty?” Ao’nung questions and I nod.

“It’s like tsaheylu.”

“Then let us complete our custom.” He grabs his braid and brings it forward, his white tendrils moving in all directions.

“Are you certain?” I ask him and he smiles, giving me a peck real quick. He grabs my braid for me but before connecting looks me directly in my eyes.

“Are you certain?” He’s asking so sweetly while making sure our braids don’t connect.

“Yes.”

And the feeling itself is euphoric. My pupils are blown wide I’m sure, I could slightly feel them getting larger. I can feel how fast Ao’nung is breathing and can feel the strain of his cock as if the feeling were my own. I could feel how his heart was beating and the same warmth had settled over his own belly.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” Ao’nung states breathlessly.

“I love you, too.” I respond in english

It’s like he understood what I meant as he leans down to kiss me and manages to settle me in missionary. He lifts his head up and looks down between us and back up at me. I nod and feel him start to get nervous.

“It’s okay.” I place a hand on his cheek and gingerly stroke it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,”

“Have I screamed in pain at any point?” I ask and he smiles, kissing me again. He looks down between us and places his cock in his hands and guides it in slowly. I could feel my body clenching in anticipation and I shut my eyes harshly.

“Shit.” I grunt and squeeze harder when I feel the head sliding in slowly. The stretch burned real bad and at this point I stopped breathing.

“Breathe my love,” He gently strokes my clit after stopping just after his head had been pushed in.

“Ma’nung, you’re big.” I groan and throw my head back as the subtle sparks of him rubbing my clit start to fan the flames more.

“You’re so tight I might burst too soon.” He strains and I start to relax.

“Thats a compliment on Earth-“ I try to laugh and he slaps my thigh.

“Ahh!” I whine and he goes back to rubbing my clit and I moan immediately after.

“I’m going to keep pushing-“ He starts and as he does I can feel a sense of fullness but also his length dragging heavily on my g-spot and I moan.

“If you don’t move some more, I will cut your penis off.” I threaten and I can tell he’s confused by the sudden change of pace but I know he can feel what I feel.

“Shit, is that me?” He asks and I open my eyes to see him biting his lip, one of his fangs poking out, I look down myself and see a small bulge moving in my lower belly.

“Yes thats you-“ I moan as he’d started sliding out and his cock continues rubbing against my G-spot, it feels like the many orgasms I brought myself to happening all at once.

“Go faster-“ I whine and he does, snapping his hips at a steady pace and it feels so damn good.

“Faster-“ and he follows my command, not once questioning me.

“You’re swallowing me so easily, you feel so soft rubbing all over, and your stomach is- fuck-“ He cuts himself off and seems unsure of where to stare, at my pussy swallowing his cock or at my stomach as it plays peek-a-boo with him.

“Yawne, I’m too close-“

“I’m coming Ao’nung-“ I whine and feel myself spasm around his cock as I blubber on some stupid Na’Vi mixed with english non-sense.

Not once had he stopped thrusting his hips and the feeling of my orgasm continuously being stroked on had started what felt like the build of another one.

“Cock so good I’m coming twice-“ I groan in English and he starts whining himself. I never knew Na’vi men were vocal, and for some reason, the question can I come? Kept replaying in my head. Realizing I was still connected to Ao’nung I reach my hand up and pat his arm and he opens his eyes, lust evident on his face.

“You can come my love-“

The look of relief washed over his face but I could still feel like he was holding back. More of his thoughts flood my mind.

“Do it.” I confirm and he leans his whole body over mine, hitting spots I thought he was hitting before, quite literally fucking me so dumb I forgot my own name. His thrusts feel even more powerful at this angle and he bites the skin between my neck and my shoulder. His come washes over the both of us as I have my second orgasm and massage the spurts of come from his dick, coaxing more to come out with every wave of pleasure I felt. He lazily kisses me and pulls out, I hiss from the sting of his fat head stretching me open.

“Come here-“ Ao’nung quite literally lifts me to lay on his chest as we both catch our breath.

“I meant it.” He says while lazily stroking my back, but he didn’t have to explain, we were still connected, I already knew.

“I do too.” I sigh and lean into his chest to listen to his heart beat lulling me to sleep.

_________

I wake up and realize my body is being caged in but I felt warm and comfortable so I stayed snuggled up in what I thought was my blanket.

“Good, you’re awake.”

My eyes have never snapped open so quick after hearing that voice. His morning after voice was deep and sensual and it had me tingling. I look up to see that it was still dark.

“It’s not morning yet.” I groan and get comfortable again.

“Yes, my love, but I need some assistance.” He states as if he were straining and I turn my head to see him struggling with another boner.

“Oh my-“ I turn quickly. “- how long have you been dealing with that!” I asked and he whines.

“You’ve spent the entire time grinding me while you slept, I didn’t want to wake you, but we mate up to three times during one session.” He tries saying it in a nice way but I understood what he meant.

“Slide it in next time.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“I know, Ma’nung, but nothing better than waking up to an orgasm, or being loved on.” I stated while sliding one leg up, still laying sideways.

Ao’nung is hesitant, but we were still connected by our bond too. I was surprised.

“I forgot you have a fat head-“ I groan as he slides it in and gives me time to adjust but also feeling instant relief to be back inside me. The hand underneath my waist snakes over to rub my clit as he pumps pathetically inching in very slowly, but I could feel what he felt.

“Come inside my love-“ I moan as he comes inside for the second time tonight, letting him continue thrusting lazily while sliding across my G-spot.

“You feel so warm, so good, I can’t get enough.” He groans while continuing the same movement and I could feel him getting hard again.

“Is this why your mom is pregnant for the sixth time?” I asked and he ignores me but wraps his hands around my body, pulling me closer to him.

“Can I come again, my love?” He asks while his thrusts are becoming more powerful.

“How many more times can you come tonight?” I asked and start meeting his thrusts in the middle, feeling the familiar sensation about to snap in my belly.

“As many times as it takes to make you round with child, I can’t wait to see you waddle with my life inside of you-“

“Fill me to the brim,” I groaned as he continues thrusting while imagining myself pregnant with his children. But the mental images he was seeing began flashing in my mind and he wanted to fuck me while pregnant, pushing my body past its limits and taking me in every position.

“Come my love-“ He grunts in my ear and all I can do is squeeze around his cock and moan loudly.

_________

“You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?” He teases while thrusting in my cunt ever so slowly while he held me against the tree.

“No,” I try to stay quiet but he only slaps his big hand over my mouth.

He’d decided to fish on the docks today instead of following a hunting party and when he’d finish casting his third net full of fish he’d told the guys he was with that he’d be back in a few. I’d been picking seashells with his mom and sister when he called me away and lead me to where we were.

“You’re such a pathetic thing, Yawne,” He glides his dick over my G spot effortlessly and I’m a mess, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Eyes on me, my love, I want to see what I do to you.” He smiles cockily and I whine loud enough for him to hear.

“I want to come-“

“No.” He states firmly and slides his cock back in. “Be good for me and we’ll see if you deserve to come, my love.”

“Kiss me-“ I demand and he leans in, gently taking in the back of my neck and kissing me sweetly.

“G-go faster-“ I pant as he does and my eyes roll back.

“Come my love, come.” Ao’nung instructs me and I bite my lip as I release myself all over his cock.

“No don’t pull out,” I hold on to his hand tightly as if thats where I needed to hold him.

“We have to go back and-“

“I need you, Ma’nung,” I complain and he smirks.

“Of course, how could I have been so dumb,” He states and starts thrusting even faster.

“Ah!” I moaned and he slaps his hand over my mouth again.

“How can something so small be so loud?” He groans in my ear while he thrusts into me. My toes were curling as if they had a mind of their own and he was only holding me by my waist with one hand, he’s so fucking strong.

“How can someone so big be so big-“ I groan as he resorts to moving me up and down on his cock.

“I want to torture this orgasm out of you, my love. I want to make you the same babbling mess you were last night.” His voice was deeper and he was starting to grunt with every thrust. His hand came down from my mouth and stroked my clit lazily.

“Please let me come-“

“No.”

“Thats what you said earlier and you still let me-“ I whine and he forcefully grabs my cheeks to pull my face closer toward his.

“You cum when you only know my name and nothing else.”

I squeezed on him harder.

“You like when I’m rough with you, huh.” He places his hand on my chest and I grab it and place it on my neck without flinching and gently squeezes the sides and I could feel myself squeezing his cock once more.

“No, I w-wan- come.”

“Not dumb enough my love.”

_________

“Is anything off lim-limi- limits with y-you?” I asked as he thrusts under the water while his thick cock glides in and out of me.

“No. Never.” He groans before going faster. “You’ll be the death of me, now shut up and come.” He states while circling my clit.

“I don-don’t wanna-“ I whine but was to sensitive to hold on any longer.

“Yes you do, I can feel it. And not because we’re connected.”

_________

“Yawne please!” Ao’nung cries as I slide down further.

I’d mentioned riding once and he had been asking every single day if we could try it, but I wasn’t sure how feasable it would be, only because he’s huge and the thigh strength I’d need would need to come fro Eywa herself.

“This isn’t easy for me either!” I groan and completely slid down his cock and met his hips. Realization hits me as he hugs my body into his own.

“No you better not-“

“I’m coming~” He moans in my ear and it triggered my own orgasm.

_________

“Quiet my love.” Ao’nung shushes me.

“Please,” I beg and he thrusts harshly into me and I moan again.

“I love you-“ He states in English.

“Nga yawne lu oer-“ I whine back as he circles my clit with his thumb. He slams back in again.

“I like seeing you fucked dumb, my love.” He responds in English again and I’m going crazy.

“How bad do you want to come?” He asks in Na’vi and I can’t comprehend the question at all and babble some nonsense.

“I need you to come, sweet girl.” He coo’s and covers my mouth to muffle my sounds with his own in a deep heated kiss.

“Thats it, my love,” He coo’s as he joins me, still managing to gently caress my cheeks at his highest point of euphoria.

_________

“Have you told her it was an aphrodisiac?” Neytiri asks and Lo’ak rolls his eyes.

“Yes Ma’am.” He replies.

“Good.” Ronal states while working on cutting the fruit she had.

“Was this necessary?” Tsireya asks while sneaking a couple of the fruit pieces for herself since she was expecting.

“All the necessary, my sweet girl.” Ronal stated to her daughter.

“If not for that small lie they would not be sneaking around horribly and procreating like they are.” Neytiri points out.

“They’re sneaking around in public and doing that?” Taireya’s eyes widen In shock and Lo’ak laughs.

“Of course they are. Just the other day, Ao’nung said he couldn’t come hunting because he had to pick some tulip thorns from the tree’s for her. They grow in the ground.”

Ronal laughs at this too and shakes her head.

“Maybe she will become pregnant soon like us.” Kiri happily continues creating medicine or saves from the peels of the fruit.

“Human male and Hybrid Na’vi can procreate. Lets see if Na’vi nale and hybrid Na’vi can do the same.” Ronal smiles.

“I believe they can. Our world is changing.” Neytiri comments.

#avatar #avatar smut #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x reader smut #avatar the way of water #loak x tsireya #spider x kiri #afab reader #avatar the way of water smut

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gallusrostromegalus · 4 months

Note

So I may have been browsing through your AEIWAM tag and came across your writing of Komamura saying it's too hot in summer when you have a fur coat you can't take off. By that logic he's gonna always be sitting beside Hitsugaya in Captain meetings if he can swing it, especially in the early days, cause that boy is like a mini air conditioner next to him. XD

Wolves are winter creatures. The double coat, the snowshoe paws, the proclivity for cuddlepiles- if Sajin could move somewhere that never got above 40F he'd be in heaven. Alas, he lives in a major city that hits triple digits in the summer, so he keeps close track of the little pieces of winter he can find.

The first person to realize his little game was Unohana. She knew about the wolfman thing- Yamamoto trusts her as much as Sasakibe, and persuaded Sajin that, should a medical emergency arise, it should not also be a medical surprise.

She is of course, the pinnacle of Medical Confidentiality.

...but his name came up during one of the Shinigami Women's Association meetings/boozing sessions, and a distinct schism appeared.

On one side was Soi Fon, Nanao, and Herself, who all found Komamura to be very polite, professional and reliable if somewhat reticent and at times, aloof.

"I swear I can't get more than three words out of him!" Nanao despairs.

"I like him. He knows how to Shut Up." Soi Fon agrees.

"He's a very private man." Unohana nods.

Across the table, Isane and Rukia are baffled.

"Captain Komamura? Ten feet tall, bucket head? That Komamura?" Rukia the so-called Ice Princess asks, gesturing to indicate their height disparity. "What the fuck are you talking about? He's SUPER friendly and will hang around to talk FOREVER."

"Yeah, every time I go to the 7th he always asks me to stay for lunch and wants to know how everyone in my family is doing and swap horror stories from the ER for tales of crazy people in the intake queue." Agrees Isane, wielder of the ice cloud Itegumo. "It's embarrassing, but one time I was more than two hours late getting back because we get to talking!"

Everyone stares at everyone else, baffled.

"Did- did I do something to piss him off?" Wonders Nanao.

"Huh. Maybe he just picked up on how much I hate small talk on the job?" Soi Fon shrugs.

Unohana is silent, thinking.

"GUESS WHO BROUGHT TEQUILA!!" Matsumoto Rangiku announces as she kicks in the door, holding four bottles of liquor, only three of which were still full.

"We need you to settle a debate!" Rukia demands at once.

"Ooh! I love passing judgement on things that don't effect me!" Rangiku coos, sitting down, her chest making an odd 'clunk' sound on the table "- there's also salt and limes!"

"It kinda effects you." Soi Fon waved her hand noncommittally. "How would you describe Captain Komamura?"

"Tall, Heavily Armored and Mysterious?" Rangiku shrugs, pulling the box of kosher salt out of her cleavage.

"...more like his personality." Isane clarified.

"Oh! Uhh... You know what? He's one of the few people that's ever complimented me on streamlining like 80% of the paperwork we have to do." Rangiku nodded, fishing the limes out as well. "Always has stuff done waaaay before I expected and I feel like a bit of a jerk for not replying immediately, but never complains if my stuff comes in late."

"Does he hang around and talk, or is he just really businesslike?" Nanao asks, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Hmm..." Fowns Rangiku. "Kinda varies by the day- Sometimes he's all business, other times he'll stay and chat. I always assumed he wants to talk but sometimes he's got work, you know?"

There is much confused muttering as the limes are cut, when Unohana raises a finger.

"...How is he with Lieutenant Hitsugaya?" She asks.

"Oh, he ADORES Toshiro!" Rangiku nods enthusiastically, salting her shot glass. "He actually does the majority of Toshiro's Bankai training now because The Old Man handed it off to him so he could focus on teaching Zaraki Everything But Kendo- which, bless him for doing that, Shiro-kin could literally freeze my tits off!- and he really does a good job listening to Toshiro's concerns and confusions- he's a sensitive boy, you know? And Koma-kun is so gentle with him and to be honest I always eavesdrop on his advice because I could use it too. Delightful man all around." She nodded, and moved to down her drink.

"...Why?" She asked, pausing her drink and glaring suspiciously at Unohana.

Unohana nods with the clarity of enlightenment. "Nothing serious, but everything makes sense now." She smiles, then cracks into a small giggle. "It's rather charming, actually."

"Care to elaborate?" Soi Fon grumbles.

"Yeah that answered NOTHING." Rangiku glares.

"We noticed an interesting disparity in his behavior." Unohana explains, pushing her own glass towards Rangiku to fill. "For me, Captain Fon, and Lieutenant Ise, Komamura-Taicho is very polite, but sticks to the matter at hand and will not volunteer any further conversation. For Lieutenant Koetetsu, Miss Kuchiki and apparently Lieutenant Hitsugaya, he has all the time in the world and is quite the chatterbox."

"...Weird." Rangiku frowns, intrigued by the puzzle. "For me it's like, half and half?"

"Not quite, I think." Unohana smirks. "What do Isane, Rukia and young Toshiro all have in common?"

The Resounding Silence of Thinking Very Hard around the table was a bit of a disappointment, but they were about three bottles into the evening already.

"Can't be Height." Nanao hummed. "Rukia and Shiro-Kun are shorter than a stack of pancakes but Isane's got legs that are too long for the cover of Vouge."

"Isane and Toshiro are both silver-haired, but not me, and he doesn't seem to be particularly close to Ukitake-Taicho and I think I've actually seen him run out of a room to avoid Gin." Rukia puzzled.

"What? RUDE." Rangiku protested.

"They're all under a century old, right?" Rangiku pondered.

"No, I'm almost two hundred!" Isane sighed. "Oh wait- we all graduated early from the Academy!"

"Ehhhh, I graduated because I got adopted, I'm not a genius like you and Shiro-kun." Rukia waved. "Also, how would HE know that?"

"You're all Lieutenants!" Rangiku perked up.

"Not yet I'm not!" Rukia protested.

"Pfsh- you run half the division anyway. Jushiro should promote you to Co-lieutenant with Kaien already!" Rangiku waved.

"Its- it's complicated." Rukia mumbled. "Also, Nanao-chan is a Lieutenant and he doesn't like her!"

"Does it have to do with how freakishly huge he is?" Soi Fon asked.

"...Yes, actually." Unohana decided. Sajin might not have so much trouble thermoregulating if he was the size of a regular wolf. She reasoned privately.

"Also, He likes Nanao-chan just fine as far as I know. I think it's less about how much he enjoys your company- which I think he does, he's not one for putting on facades- and more about how much he enjoys your Proximity." She clarified, taking her shot. "Oh, this is good, what is it?"

"Cabrito Blanco." Rangiku read off. "Huh. The Cabrito on the label sure ain't Blanco." She frowned at the brown goat.

"None of us have transferred out of the Division we started in, but again, how would he know? and that hasn't got anything to do with Proximity..." Isane frowned.

Rukia slammed her glass down. "WOW that's got a kick. Maybe uhhhh... None of us wear perfume, but Gin doesn't either. I hope. I don't want to get close enough to find out."

"He's really not that bad-" Rangiku sulked. "OH, 'Blanco' refers to the tequila and this is that goat's white tequila!" She realized.

"Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend vacation in your brain. Its machinations fascinate me." Soi Fon teased. "Hmmm... Lotta close but no Cigar, you're all young-ish, Isane and Toshiro have living relatives and Rukia has a large adopted family, but again, not exclusive or Proximal. You're also all S-rank duelists with- OH!"

"Shh, I'm enjoying the flailing." Retsu grinned.

"Pfff- okay, that is kinda cute and I don't blame him." Soi Fon giggled. "Sometimes I'm real glad my seat is right next to The Old Man for the same reason. Or opposite reason, I guess."

"Bwah?" Rangiku frowned.

"I do the same thing with You, Momo and The Old Man that He's doing with them." Soi Fon grinned. Rangiku frowned, peculiar machinations grinding slowly through the tequila, before she suddenly cackled, head thrown back so hard Unohana had to reach out and grab her by the scarf to keep her from tipping her chair over.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!!" She wailed, shoulders shaking. "Oh- that's cute but Toshiro can NEVER find out he'll be such a brat about it!"

"Sorry I'm late, I had to finish the latest report on the Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Investigation!" Momo panted, jogging in late. "-What can't Toshiro find out about?"

"There is SOMETHING that You, ran-chan and Yamamoto-sama share, and it's the same thing but backwards as what Me, Hitsugaya, and Isane have in common that Komamura-taicho really likes it or something, and THEY know but won't TELL US and its MAKING ME CRAZY!" Rukia wailed.

Momo stood, expression blank for a few moments. "Wait. You didn't know?"

"KNOW WHAT?" Rukia wailed.

"That Komamura hangs around with people with Ic-Mmpf!" Momo started to reveal but was abruptly tackled and the rest of the sentence smothered in Rangiku's Cleavage.

"With WHAT?" Nanao demanded. "What do they have that I don't?"

"-Hang on." Isane frowned, the slowly turned to her captain, squinting. "Is. Is this a... Physics Issue?"

"That's one way to phrase it." Unohana smiled as Momo flailed for air.

"Oh my Gooooood..." Isane groaned. "Why doesn't he just ASK? I'd happily go over and give Itegumo some practice, I hate summertime too!"

"Huh?" Rukia glared, as Momo finally fought her way free and gasped for air.

"Itegumo? That's your- ohhhhhhh." Nanao realized. "That's. Okay yeah that's actually really cute." She giggled. "Poor guy. The armor can't help with that, can it?"

"That's what I keep telling him but it's-" Unohana waved her hands and grimaced with frustration. "-He wears the armor because he's facing the *stupidest* form of Political Persecution I've ever heard of." she sighed.

"Really?" Asked Momo. "Captain Tousen said Komamura told him it's because he's got a major disfigurement or something?"

Unohana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Komamura is FINE, he's just- It's complicated and medically private but trust me, the helmet is a reasonable precaution against an absurd problem."

"Oh." Momo winced. "Well, I'm glad he's medically alright at least!" "I'm so fucking confused." Rukia whimpered, deflating over the table in despair. "Is. Is hanging out with me making him less sick or something??"

"...Yes!" Unohana smiled. "Or at least, makes his condition more physically comfortable."

Rukia turned that over a few times. "...Talking with him is helping?"

"Yes, but only if you're in the same room with him. Doesn't work over the phone." Unohana nodded.

"Okay." Rukia said, reaching for the nearest bottle. "Lets talk about something else."

---

Years Later, after the Bedlam of her attempted execution and Subsequent Rescue, Rukia finally saw Komamura's face.

It was a bit awkward, walking into the hospital room in search of her brother to find a nine-and-a-half foot tall wolfman wearing the Seventh Division Captain's Haori visiting Momo. It took her a moment to realize who he was, and another as some neurons connected and she squawked indignantly, pointing at him.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Kuchiki, but-" He sighed, ears flattening back against his head with Chargin.

"AIR CONDITIONING?!?!" She bellowed.

Komamura scrunched back, chagrined. For a massive apex predator, he did an excellent Kicked Puppy face.

"Rukia!" Momo protested faintly from her hospital bed. "Keep your voice down, I don't want Toshiro to find out!"

"Find out what?" Hitsugaya grunted, stepping out from behind Rukia.

"Ah, Well-" Komamura started to explain.

Rukia rounded on Hitsugaya, pointing behind her at the captain. "THIS JACKASS HAS BEEN EXTRA NICE TO YOU, ME AND ISANE BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE ICE-TYPE ZANPAKUTO AND CHILL THE AIR AROUND US!"

"...Summer is very uncomfortable when you have a fur coat you can't take off." Komamura winced.

"Uh, duh?" Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, strolling into the room. "I didn't know you were chilling Koetetsu and Kuchiki here as well, but I kinda figured you enjoyed the cold when you stayed at my Bankai training like, five times longer than Gramps ever did."

"My apologies for the deception." Komamura bowed his head.

"It's no big deal." Hitsugaya shrugged, putting a hand up to indicate he wanted help up onto the hospital bed, and Komamura obliged.

"See? I use you being tall too." he smirked.

Komamura sighed fondly as the boy sat down between him and Momo. "Momo makes me chill all her juice too, but she never seems to warm up my tea." he handed her a juice box from the vending machine down the hall, covered in condensation.

"It would explode." Momo grumbled.

"Skill Issue." He shrugged and she affectionately swatted him on the leg. "Anyway, don't dogs cool off through their paws?"

"I'm from a wolf clan, but yes." Komamura cocked his head with curiosity, then alarm when Toshiro casually grabbed his forearm and started tugging his Gauntlets off.

"I don't mind being a human ice pack, especially not when it's nintey-eight freakin' degrees out, but be efficient about it, yeah?" Toshiro grumbled, tossing the gauntlet aside and plopping Komamura's pawlike hand on top of his head.

"...Thank you." Komamura smiled gently, and ruffled his hair a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hitsugaya shrugged, playing the tough guy even as his ears turned red. "At least you're polite about it! Freakin' Zaraki literally just grabbed me- like, put his whole arm through the office window! and threw me over his shoulders once. Jerk."

"TOSHIRO!" Momo yelped, hand on her face. "You almost made juice come out of my nose!" She half-giggled while Rukia snort-laughed at the mental image.

"Hey Kuchiki!" Hitsugaya growled. "He's got two paws!"

"You can't boss me around! You don't outrank me anymore!" She grinned.

"I have seniority." he teased, and the bed started to shake as Komamura tried not to laugh.

"You really don't need to-" Komamura tried to diffuse the argument. His voice was rock-steady but the wide grin betrayed him.

"You gotta follow my orders though!" Ukitake said cheerfully, appearing in the door. "Hi Lieutenant Hinamori!"

"C-captain!" Rukia yelped, spinning around to Salute. "What are your orders, Sir?

"Shh, nothing's happening. But I did hear you squawking from two floors down, so what's happening?" Ukitake smiled down at her.

"Captain Komamura has APPARENTLY been hanging around me and the other Shinigami with Ice Zanpakuto and using us as Air Conditioners!" Rukia glared up at her commanding officer.

"...Rukia," Ukitake patted her head and smiled gently. "Do you remember where Lieutenant Kaien's desk was?"

"Second door on the left, right next to your office, Sir!" She nodded.

"Right! And where's your desk?" Ukitake asked, leaning in closer to her.

Rukia blinked, confused. "...It's immediately adjacent to your desk in your offi- GOD DAMMIT! NOT YOU TOO?"

"Yep!" Ukitake cheerfully patted her head and then palmed it to turn her around to face Komamura. "Hop to it!"

"Technically, I got the Idea from him, when I saw how he'd rearranged the furniture..." Komamura whispered as he helped her up onto the bed as well and Rukia groaned in defeat, settling next to Komamura where she could sulk at her captain from over the wolfman's broad shoulders.

"Oh, stop pouting!" Ukitake teased, sitting down on the chair beside Momo's bed and leaning back. "It'll be winter soon enough. Actually, Your friend Mr. Yasutora told me about a fascinating wintertime holiday in the Living World-"

#Bleach #Bleach Fanfic #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #sajin komamura #toshiro hitsugaya #Momo Hinamori #rukia kuchiki #retsu unohana #LONG post under the cut #2.5K ficlet really

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octuscle · 7 months

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Hey there! I'm having a debate with my roommate and wondering if you can help settle it. He says that if you gave someone the body of a jock, without any mental changes, they'll eventually start acting like a jock anyway. I don't think that's true. Just because you have muscles and look like a jock doesn't mean you'll start acting like one, right? We were thinking of trying to set up an experiment for our honor's thesis and wanted your input, thanks!

Are you really sure you want to go through with it? We are happy to do it. I'll create a preset for you that only changes your body. But really. 1.90 m tall. 140 kg of pure muscle mass. But everything else stays the same. To be honest, you don't look like you're ready for it. But it's up to you. I can only recommend that you are in a safe and, above all, unobserved place when you activate the preset.

You take a deep breath. You stand naked in the middle of your room. Next to you, you have laid out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top, a jockstrap, a pair of socks and a pair of sneakers. You can only hope that the clothes will fit your new self. 3. 2. 1. enter!

Wow! Holy shit! Now that was quick and without a transition. You look down at the floor from a slightly greater height. And when you look down, all you see are pecs. Fucking huge pecs. You need a mirror. Phew! Very slowly! The new body works a little differently than the old one… Your center of gravity is much higher up. You stand in front of the mirror. This no longer has anything to do with you. It's more Greek demigod than human. Your cock is getting hard. A huge cock that fits this huge body. You never wank. Especially not in the middle of your room. But now you have to. Not for long. And a huge load lands on the mirror and the floor. Yes, I've changed a few details apart from the height and muscle mass. You've already noticed one thing. You'll notice the others too.

You're convinced that the new body won't change anything. So you act as you always have. First of all, you clean up the mess. You are manically clean and tidy. Then you put on your clothes. The shoes are a bit tight, but otherwise everything fits pretty well. So off you go to the library. After all, your honors thesis isn't going to write itself.

Iris and Rita at the information desk didn't recognize you when you greeted them. They looked at you as if you were an alien when you wished them a good morning. You sat down at your regular place in the library. You like routines. You started working on your thesis outline when Vincent came over. Vincent always sits three tables behind you. Nice guy, similarly obsessive as you. He clears his throat and says that you can't sit here, the seat is taken. Actually, you should have said something along the lines of "Vincent, don't you recognize me, it's me!". But somehow you can't help it. You have to try it out. You cross your muscular arms behind your head, look deep into his eyes and just ask who cares. Vincent retreats like a beaten dog. Three minutes later, you have a WhatsApp message: "There's some stupid musclehead sitting in your seat!" You reply that it's okay, you're not on campus for a few days for empirical studies anyway.

But you're not as productive as usual. Your new body is keeping you busier than you thought. It feels so good to tense your muscles. Your hard cock is constantly leaking precum and is always half stiff. Shit, after an hour you have to jerk off. Fuck, you make quite a mess in the toilet. You try to clean everything up with toilet paper. When you come out of the stall, a student is standing at the urinal, looking at you and wanking. Get out of here quickly, you think to yourself.

The incident is definitely worth recording. After all, you've never experienced this before. But it was hot. As you type out your thoughts, your stomach begins to growl. So loud that Vicent hisses "Pssst". It's actually too early for lunch. But the canteen is about to open. So you're one of the first in the queue. You can hardly wait. And you heap heaps of food onto your tray. You're so hungry.

The weather is good, you sit down at a table in the sun and, ignoring all the table manners, you wolf down your food. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting "Hey, guys, there are empty seats here with the big boy!" You look up. A couple of idiots from the football team are standing at your table. "Dude, okay if we join you?" asks one of the guys, who seems to be some kind of leader. "Sure thing," you say with your mouth full, spitting a bit of your chicken across the table. "Cool," he replies, giving you a fist bump, which you return somewhat hesitantly and also a little awkwardly. And before you know it, you're sitting in a cloud of sweat, testosterone and stupid comments.

You start talking to the boys more for scientific reasons. They ask if you're Fresman because they've never seen you before. You say that you're actually studying somewhere else, but you're here to work on your Honor's thesis. The leader spits his Coke across the table. "Fuck, dude! You already have a degree? In what? Lifting iron?" Everyone laughs. Very loudly. You too. It's actually really funny with the boys…

The boys go to the gym after lunch. I wonder if you're coming too. You don't even think about it. You just say that you haven't got anything to change into. Everyone laughs and asks if anyone is interested. So you go along. It's a field study, you think to yourself. You're observing everything very closely. You don't want to attract negative attention. The processes seem very simple. You copy what you see the boys doing. You even enjoy it. You work up a sweat. You forget the time. The others are gone at some point. You're still here. You look in the mirror. Your long, sweaty hair falls across your forehead. Your friends all have much shorter hair. It's also more practical when working out. You look at your watch. Shit!!!!! You have to get your stuff from the library before it closes. Trevor, sitting at the information desk, doesn't recognize you either. It's already very empty when you pack up your things. Vincent is still there, mumbling something about how antisocial it is to occupy a space you're not using. You don't know why you're doing this now. But you go to him very slowly. You press his face into your armpit. And say that you had more important things to do. Shit, Vincent is seriously licking the sweat out of your armpit hair now? Pathetic little fucker, your new friends would say now. You're far too surprised. By you. By him. Slightly disturbed, you go home. You throw yourself on your bed and think about your first day as a jock. You fall asleep.

You are actually a person who is always well prepared. But you are amazed at how little you have prepared for this experiment. You have a combination to wear. It's still sweaty after yesterday's workout. But you don't have anything else. So this morning you're not going to the library, but to the paint shop. Shopping. A pair of sweatshorts, a few tank tops, socks and jockstraps, sneakers. A bit of compression gear for training. You pass a barbershop. There are a couple of guys inside who are obviously no strangers to the gym either. Fuck it, you think. Down with the long hair!

You haven't been in the library this late in a long time. Vincent has blocked your seat for you. With a few protein bars. Cute! He winks at you when you come in. You raise your arm and smell your armpit. Shit, you haven't showered! Fuck… Well, maybe the little prick will like that even more…

By lunchtime with the boys, you at least want to have logged yesterday and this morning. And you're looking for some literature on the connection between mind and body. Most of it is ancient. Nothing has been published on the subject for a long time. And if there is, it's more about the effect of the state of mind on the body. Less often on the effect of the body on the state of mind. That's obvious, because normally a genius like you doesn't acquire a body overnight…

The lunch break with the boys was cool. The guys are just very chilled, you like that. No highbrow topics. Just sport, fucking and partying. Unfortunately, a lot of football too. You have no idea about that. After lunch, the boys want to throw some balls on the lawn. You have to go to a colloquium later. And Luke said that you should finally replace those nerdy glasses with contact lenses. The visit to the optician was a good excuse not to embarrass yourself at football.

A whole day without going to the gym sucks! That's why you got up early today. You didn't do your thesis assignments yesterday, nor did you get your muscles burning. That has to change. Shit, you're still struggling with your contact lenses. But it looks a thousand times better. You're screaming alpha with every trained muscle fiber. And that's great! You almost feel at home in the gym. And nobody questions your position. In the library, Vincent provides you with everything you need. He fetches books for you and takes them away again. He has also already offered to help you with your work. What a loser! You don't need to order anything in the canteen after just two days. Your extra large portion of extra protein-rich food is prepared especially for you. Twice. You come once when the canteen opens. And once just before it closes. Your body is a machine. And this machine needs fuel. Lots of fuel.

You sit in the library and document the developments of the last few days. It really is only a few days. Reading through the last few lines almost makes you nauseous. Has your body replaced your mind so quickly? You need to get a grip on yourself. You did your Master's with distinction. You're working on your honor's thesis. You have a chance of getting a professorship at your old college. And you suddenly prefer to spend more time in the gym or with the airheads on the football team? You make a plan. Two hours of gym in the morning, two hours break with the bros at lunchtime, two hours of gym in the evening. And in between, focus on your thesis and your studies. It shouldn't be that difficult. You're an intelligent and disciplined man. So let's get going!

You have made every effort. And you actually come to the conclusion in your thesis that the body of a jock does not automatically lead to the mind of a stupid, arrogant and superficial jock. You have fun with both. Training in the gym and hanging out with the bros. And working scientifically and researching the human psyche. But in a lecture you realize that it's not you who changes, it's your environment that changes you. Since you got this body three weeks ago, no one has spoken to you about your studies. Vincent, who you thought was intellectual through and through, just wants you to let him lick your armpits in the evening. Your bros didn't even ask you what you were studying. And then the day comes when you attend your doctoral supervisor's lecture. Since your transformation, you've only spoken or written on the phone. You sit in the front row. You appreciate your doctoral supervisor for his liberal political views, his rhetorical skills and his incredible knowledge. At the end of his lecture, he looks at you. And asks if the young man, who unfortunately was unable to dress appropriately, understood a word of what he had just said. He assumes you were mistaken in the lecture hall. But if you invest your energy in your biceps and not your brain, that's to be expected.

First you think about whether you are saying anything particularly intelligent. To express your indignation at his insolence. To justify yourself. But then you think about what has been really fun in the last few weeks. And who you really had fun with. And you answer "Nah, professor dude! Dat wuz alot of words n stff u sed. I dnt thnk I need all dat for my degree as a personal trainer. wdut, bro?" You make your pecs dance. The lecture hall laughs. You stand up. Fuck the honor's thesis!

You started studying sports economics again. You also work as a trainer in a fitness studio. And you have a pretty successful YouTube fitness channel. You recently received a call from your old doctoral supervisor. He read through the draft of your honor's thesis again. It was all very promising. Why did you drop out? You say that you obviously have to choose between brains and brawn at some point. And you're grateful to him for helping you decide. And with that you hang up.

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #inked man #ai image #tank top

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neolxzr · 11 months

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OK so heres some of my favorite things that were talked about during the enter the florpus commentary thing yesterday:

one of jhonen's favorite things in the whole movie is the writing in zim's kitchen that says "do anything is real?"

they clarified specifically that gir was not lying and he did in fact eat a baby at the crazy taco

gir smells REALLY bad. theres like rotting organic matter in his body at all times. he stinks

zim's human suit is made out of actual human skin

zim is acting drunk on nacho cheese during that scene in his house because richard horvitz recorded it while drunk

they planned to have this whole thing with tak's ship only agreeing to go to moo-ping 10 because it knows tak is there. they wouldve shown her in silhouette during that brief explosion and she wouldve stowed away on the ship without anyone knowing and then wouldve shown up towards the end of the movie, but they decided to cut it out

zim did not need to frame membrane for a crime in order to get him into space prison and likely just tossed the guards like 5 bucks for it. its a shady place. they did specify though that if he did frame him for something, it would have been jaywalking

they pointed out during that scene where zim is celebrating peace day on dib's lawn that zim's reaction to seeing dib was very much genuine and that's just how his brain works. he is genuinely surprised to see him pop out of his own house. (they also described his reaction as like "being surprised to see your best friend")

the ham joke was ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to the film and at some point jhonen remembered it and was like GUYS. WE ALMOST FORGOT THE HAM

there was supposed to be this joke where it cuts to and from gaz and dib in tak's ship and they would've had to stop at like a warp station or something and theyd be waiting in a long queue of spaceships and the radio is broken in the ship so theyre stuck listening to that one song. then itd cut to them like totally braindead drooling from listening to it for so long. and then a little later itd cut back a FINAL time and theyd know all of the words and both be singing along to it. but this was also cut out so only the last bit remained

when asked "who would win: minimoose or mrs. bitters?" the answer was along the lines of "neither, i think all of us lose in that scenario"

the tallest are just two dudes who happen to be the same height and therefore have to share the same job. they are not brothers and they are also not gay lovers ("as much as you want them to be, they are not. there is no love in this universe")

skooge is in fact alive and lives in zim's basement. they wanted to keep the number of "hey remember this thing from the tv show!" moments to a minimum so he was not mentioned in the movie. but he is there

#cryn rambles #invader zim #this is based pretty much entirely off of my memory btw Sorry i was not taking notes #im sure people will be uploading clips and stuff i saw people recording on their phones at different points #but i was not one of them. my phone was already like 3/4ths of the way dead when i walked in #also zadf real ANYWAYYY #kinda obsessed w jhonen's rapr shade LMAO #the whole thing was fucking hysterical im so glad i was able to go #anyways. there was so much more but these were some of my favs or just ones i thought were notable #also jhonen was excited for alan wake 2 today. my friend (big alan wake fan) was very excited to hear this info #iz tag #lazer rambles

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perksofbeingpoet · 3 months

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☆ THE POETS AT THE AIRPORT ☆

CHARLIE: trying WAY too hard to be everyone's airport crush. has to be dragged out of the liquor section of the duty free shop ("but the vodka is so CHEAP"). plays a game of "trying to sneak as many metal objects past the security check as possible". when he gets a pat down he keeps wiggling his eyebrows and saying some variant of "wow no you're wayy too old for me" to the security guy (who's probably considering quitting his job). is secretly terrified of flying but tries not to let it show (grips neil's hand so hard it hurts when they take off)

TODD: literally a ball of pure anxiety in the beginning of it. SO scared he overpacked, he's constantly talking about what if his suitcase is too heavy and he has to empty it out and everyone in the queue will be watching him and GOD HE HATES AIRPORTS. calms down a bit after the security check (totally panics about what if he accidentally put a gun down his pants or something and doesn't remember), and then just chills in the perfume area of the duty free shop, trying all the scents. buys loads of snacks because you never know if the place you're going to has the good ones. tries not to think about the possibility of the plane crashing. likes watching the clouds.

NEIL: A literal kid. Is the one who ACTUALLY overpacked, and runs around with his suitcase (he'd totally sit down on it and ride it around if that was socially acceptable). spends like an hour in the shops and is suddenly convinced he needs to buy a lot of unnecessary stuff. BUT goes into airport dad mode as soon as he needs to, he has all the tickets and keeps reminding everyone of having their passports ready, he knows the gate number etc. takes the lead and gets them to the plane safely.

KNOX: has like an hour long "in case i die on the plane" video ready for chris, and they have a long phone call to say good bye (interrupted when charlie gets into a fight with a security guard - "c'mon dude, who's side are you on, the government?? like being a small little guy in power??" "Sir I'm going to repeat it one more time, I need you to take off that belt please."). if knox wasn't dating chris, he'd totally be looking at all the cute girls at the airport for like two seconds and trying to telepathically tell them they're cute (relatable, not gonna lie). Is so polite and charming to all the staff that it's on the verge of being funny, Pittsie teasing him about really being the perfect son in law. Honestly just a very chilled flyer, he has fun.

PITTS: has even more fun. has like an extra bag full of snacks that everyone makes fun of and then obviously wants some of later (pittsie gives them some because he's a bro, but they have to swear that he's the best and will get the front seat of every car they'll ride). TOTALLY has one of those inflatable neck cushions. the security guy comments on how tall he is mainly to make conversation, but pittsie is still proud of it (i think i mentioned my headcanons about pitts' relationships with his height? or did i never publish them?) and smiles for the next minute. reads the on-flight magazine. super excited at take off, he's like LET'S GOOOO while todd and charlie are on the verge of crying. freaks out about omg I forgot my passport (neil took it from him one second ago). fun facts about planes!!

MEEKS: the chillest. tries to calm todd down by telling him statistics and all that about the narrow chances of dying on a plane until charlie snaps and is like SHUT UP OH MY GOD ("'kay sir" 🫡😳). nerds out about planes with pittsie! has WAY too many tags on his bags in case they get lost. tells really bad airport puns that pittsie thinks are HILARIOUS. spends the wait by just sitting in a café and drinking way too much coffee. ONLY buys one teeny tiny little bag of m&ms and then eats like half of pittsies snacks. sits more comfortably than pitts because his legs are shorter and don't get cramped and DEFINITELY teases him about it like 'hmm i don't know what you mean, there's plenty of leg room!"

CAMERON: really excited for the flight, loves the whole experience. printed out everything twice just in case!! all his liquid items are in these little plastic bags that no one ever uses (or maybe y'all are just better than me). eats SO much beforehand to save money because the airport prices are ridiculous. runs to the gate like three times to check it hasn't been changed. has the craziest methods to keep his ears from popping.

#dead poets society #dps fandom #dps #dead poets headcanons #dps headcanons #neil perry #todd anderson #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #gerard pitts #steven meeks #richard cameron

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simpforboys · 1 year

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meeting the master

neteyam sully x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam gets invited to one of your famous parties, he’s not too sure why. he knows of you, but doesn’t know you. you change that.

warnings: fluff, neteyam checking you out, you checking him out

aged up characters ofc, not proof read

this is high key based off the great gatsby fyi🤞

“neteyam! you have to come to y/n’s party tonight!” mukata exclaimed.

he was one of the boys neteyam and his brother quickly befriended in awa’atlu.

neteyam’s ears twitched at your name.

everyone always raved about your parties, how charming and beautiful you were. but neteyam had never seen you.

the more and more he heard about you, the more it intrigued him. how can someone be so great to a whole clan?

that night, deep into the ocean on an island, neteyam disconnected his queue to the ilu. his feet hit the cold sand as he pushed his braids out of his face.

loud cultural music consumed his upturned ears as they twitched from the noise. there were easily over three hundred clan members on the island.

neteyam suddenly felt very insecure. he was the only omatikaya- standing alone- in the middle of a crowded party.

“neteyam!” mukata ushered the man over. neteyam silently thanked eywa for not making him stand alone any longer.

“isn’t this great? one of y/n’s best!” mukata commented, his almond eyes blinking quickly.

“very… lavish.”

throughout the night, neteyam sipped on a specialty drink that was made specifically for that night.

he began to wonder where you actually were. really, he just didn’t know what you looked like.

some metkayina girls approached neteyam, batting their eyelashes and flirting with him.

“have you met y/n yet?” leyra asked.

“i have not.”

“she is like royalty. if tsireya wasn’t the chief’s daughter, everyone would believe y/n is.”

“i’ve heard that she has eaten people.” eyrina said, her voice barely above a whisper.

neteyam’s brow bone raised as his ears twitched.

“don’t be ridiculous-“ leyra gently slapped her friend.

“i believe my friend is calling me,” neteyam dismissed himself. he needed fresh air- the party atmosphere was extremely overwhelming.

he pushed through some brush and found a woman. long curly hair cascaded down her back in a V shape, a fancy loincloth that had shells and pearls decorated on the waist. it hung low on her hips and jewelry filled her finned-arms.

“hello?” he asked softly.

you turned around to hear the voice that startled you. a tall man with broad shoulders and- it was one of the sullys.

the sully family had arrived in awa’atlu a few weeks prior. you blinked your eyes at him, your second eyelid showing as it took a second to disappear.

“hi.”

“getting some air?” he questioned you, joining you to stand by the ocean.

“yes, same with you?” you asked.

“yes ma’am, i needed a break from the crowd.”

you were beyond gorgeous. a flower was tucked behind your ear, purposely balanced on the flesh. you had big, doe eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

it quickly made neteyam flustered.

his freckles were illuminated under the moon as you stared at him, the white dots seeming placed from eywa in a particular manner.

he was a very handsome man, with almost eight inches of height between your heads.

“i understand. who invited you?” you asked him, your voice gentle as you gazed down at his veiny hands.

“mukata, he said this would be y/n’s biggest party yet. although, i still haven’t met her. and really, i’ve heard so much about her yet i’m surprised she didn’t have a grand entrance to the party introducing herself.”

neteyam felt himself ramble, his eyes finally going to meet your face. you had a blank expression, one he couldn’t read.

“i guess i haven’t been a good host then,” you shrugged.

“what?” neteyam asked, his heart dropping.

you laughed at the man.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you…”

“neteyam.”

“nice to meet you, neteyam.”

“ngaytxoa (my apologies), y/n, i didn’t know-“

“it’s okay, neteyam.”

you reassurance only made him feel a little better, however the overwhelming guilt was larger.

“no really, i-“

“neteyam, it is fine.” you placed your hand on his bicep, the muscle flexing under your touch. neteyam suddenly realized he was extremely touched starved and craved more of it.

a crimson pink made its way onto his cheeks as he looked out onto the ocean.

“do you want to know a secret?” you whispered, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach his ear.

he softly purred, making your heart stammer.

“i do not really care for parties.”

neteyam turned to look at you, a confused look on his face.

“then why do you throw them?”

you shrugged at the man.

“if i don’t, then this island will remain boring forever.”

neteyam’s ears faltered as you turned to look out at the sea.

“i love the ocean and my home, but sometimes i need change.”

“like a forest?”

you looked back at neteyam to see him giving you a small smile. you grinned back.

“perhaps a forest.”

you and neteyam spent all night talking about your homes, the reason him and his family came to awa’atlu, and many other things.

the sunrise was quickly coming as you rubbed your eyes.

neteyam was laying on the sand next to you as you hugged your knees to your chest, continuing to babble on and on about your lives.

and while you two talked for hours, there was never an awkward moment. everything just felt right.

“i guess we should head back to the main land.” you suggested, seeing the fisherman off in the distance.

neteyam agreed, standing up. he offered you his hand, an electric shock going through both of you as your finned hand connected with his.

he was much stronger than you, his back filled with muscles. and sand.

“neteyam, you have sand on your back.”

without waiting for him to answer, you stepped behind him and ran your hands over his deep blue skin. the stripped patterns looked beautiful as you were mesmerized by his back.

neteyam accidentally let out a loud purr as you grazed against skin, making both of you blush.

“feel nice?” you teased, finally removing your hands from his skin (much to neteyam’s dismay).

the sunrise was dotting on your teal skin, illuminating your features as you stared up at neteyam.

in the beginning of his stay, he had yet to realize why you were so important, why everyone was obsessed with you.

but when he sat and talked with you, he soon found himself realizing just exactly why everyone adored you.

you were thoughtful, intelligent, cared for your people, funny, witty, and many other things he could not put into words.

and he began to think to himself if he could imagine being with anyone else, despite just having met you.

but when eywa calls, neteyam answers. and right now, he can hear a ringing in his ears.

1K notes · View notes

helloalycia · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!

also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol

y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name

5 years old.

"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.

I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.

"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"

I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.

"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.

After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.

At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.

I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.

—

14 years old.

"Y/N, I need your advice."

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.

He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"

I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."

He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."

Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"

"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"

At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."

"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."

"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"

He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"

I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."

He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."

"Exactly," I agreed.

He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"

Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.

Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.

Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.

"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?

"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.

She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."

I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.

After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.

"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"

I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.

Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.

It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.

Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.

"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"

Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.

"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.

We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.

If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.

Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose.

"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."

"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"

I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.

Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.

After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.

I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.

Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.

"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.

She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"

"Game?" I asked with confusion.

"My soccer match," she clarified.

"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"

"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."

Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."

They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.

—

Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.

The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."

"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."

I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.

"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"

I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."

"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"

"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.

"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"

All I could do was nod.

"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.

"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.

With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.

She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.

—

It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.

The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.

"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.

"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"

I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."

I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.

"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."

She flashed me a smile before leaving.

Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.

—

15 years old.

I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.

"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."

Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"

I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.

"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.

"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."

"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.

"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."

"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."

"Oh, no, you don't need to–"

"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"

Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.

But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.

"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.

"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.

I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.

"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"

Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.

"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.

She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."

My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.

"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."

Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.

"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."

Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.

"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"

"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."

"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"

"Some, yeah."

"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"

"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.

She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.

After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."

I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.

"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."

Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.

"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.

"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.

I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.

"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.

Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.

"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."

Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.

The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.

The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.

We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."

"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.

"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."

They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.

They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.

We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.

"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.

"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.

After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.

"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'

I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"

"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"

"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."

"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.

"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"

"Oh, I don't know–"

"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.

And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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ffeelann · 6 months

Note

könig w a reader who is much smaller than him but has ATTITUDE like she's a girl boss and könig is just 🧍🏻‍♂️

a/n: HE ORDERED WITHOUT PICKLES love these ones

open requestsss

tw: marriage omg, husband/wife, gentle giant/short demon, fem reader, she's LOUD. Swearing bc this girl has her attitude sorry, yelling, könig being like ''sorry she's kinda... haha''. not my first lenguage sorry BE NICE ILY

—Hey, hey. Wait your turn, man, the hell you doing? We've been here waiting for hours— Y/N heard a soldier saying. Oh damn, they were skipping turns on the queue again.

Y/N was a nurse who was trying, to work and check every single guy out there. But someone was doing some mess.

—Hey, Y/N, would you please...?— one of the nurses asked her, but she didn't even let him finish and she took off her gloves without hesitation.

—Hell yeah, these big ass idiots are messing with my temple again— ''temple'' ment the poorly made nursery that barely kept on it's feet.

She walked off the nursery to see the queue being interrupted by a guy that was taking another... way much taller... wait a second.

Ah, shit. That was König.

—Hey! Hey, you, big insufferable toddler! Let that man go or I'll cancel your date!

Y/N yelled while she walked quickly to that place. König stared at her while she got closer to them both, without really moving. He just made a slight effort to keep himself quiet and without any move. Waiting for that tiny piece of anger to come there.

—You yell at him, girl! My feet are hurting like shit for standing here for, like, hours. And this guy wants to skip the fucking que-

—He's not hurt, you dumbass, don't you have eyes?— Y/N said, and the closest soldiers were honestly looking at her with some amusement on their faces, since she was deffending the biggest man from the middle heighted one. When she was...

—Yeah shortie, that's pretty much making it way wor-

Y/N tried to punch him, but König hold her faster by her waist and took two steps back to avoid her kicking the hurted guy. While this happened, she yelled and swore at him.

—The hell you doing, man? Let the nurse get him— another guy said. And König denied with his head quickly.

—My wife doesn't really appreciate any comments about her height. She can come out as...

She suddenly shutted down her voice.

—What did you say, babe?

—Uh... I said ''my wife doesn't...''-

Y/N pointed to König's face making some effort to it. Which all the closest soldiers listened closely, specially the guy who tried to hold Y/N's husband back before.

—Heard that? This is my husband. And he's big and he can really beat your ass, hear me? Do not disrespect my man again, understood?— she said, pointing at her ring and showing her hand off at his face.

—Eh...?

—Understood?! Made myself fucking clear?!

The guy looked at König's eyes, and the man in question avoided the eye contact to look at the mad woman on his arms. He looked at the man for a tiny bit to nod softly, indicating him to quit and shut up.

—Y-yes, ma'am...

—Good!

She took the big man's hand once he left her to conduct themselves into the nursery. And König felt very proud to the fact that everyone looked at his wife. She was lovely, after all.

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #cod #my writting #my writing #writeblr #writing

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asimpwithfreetime · 2 years

Note

What about platonic!yan!matkayina x human/Navi hybrid!reader?

Like maybe reader was some kind of sky people experiment trying to cross the Navi with humans. Maybe she has a queue and can breathe the air, but she’s still a smol human? (Fr Tonowari would be able to pick you up with one hand he’s so large lol)

As it wasn’t specified, I am going to do Tonowari with his little adopted baby. I am going to make a story about Tonowari being a yan!dad!.

She is my baby! (Yandere! Platonic! Tonowari x hybrid! Reader)

Content warning: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread yet (will anything in my page ever be?), kinda short ngl

General warning: yandere behavior, obsessive, overprotectiveness, typical yandere things

Little background: Sky people abandoned you in the sea, leaving you for dead. The ilus brought you to Tonowari and Ronal. She doesn’t like you one bit but Tonowari saw you so small, fragile and vulnerable that his dad instinct told him to protect you. Eventually he became a yandere.

Na’vi translate: My amhul, so ke’u yomtìng (supposedly: my child, do not fear)

[ 3rd Person POV ]

“She is not yours!” Ronal hollered at Tonowari. “WE didn’t birth her”

Tonowari sighed, trying to stay calm and collected. “Eywa brought her to me, she is my child. No need to be biological!” Y/n quivered by the Marui but she didn’t enter, she heard the fight. Everyone could hear it, truly.

“ENOGUH!” Tonowari roared as the fight escalated. Ronal suddenly was at a loss of words. Tonowari came out of the Marui with a darkened look, it slowly became softer as his eyes fell on his baby. He scooped his tiny human/Na’vi hybrid into his arms, cradling her with love and care.

“I am so sorry you had to see this. My amhul, so ke’u yomtìng” he said softly to his baby. Y/n just relaxed in his arms, knowing full well he would defend her anytime.

“I am alright, dad” she responded. Tonowari couldn’t help but puff his chest out in pride, hearing her say dad. The way it was so natural for her to call him dad made him really happy.

Ronal could be heard inside the Marui, muttering loudly to herself. Tonowari sighed. “She will need to understand that you are my child, there have been a few years for her to adapt!” He sighed to himself.

[ Another day ]

Tonowari and Y/n were collecting shells together, he liked to see the small shell in his hand turn into a complete massive object once held by her. He found the difference of height extremely funny. He could crack a few dad jokes or puns about it.

A Metkayina fisher approached him. “Tonowari, you should listen to your wife, she will never belong with us, Y/n must be with the ones of his own”. “Oh, SHUT UP!” Soon, that Metkayina was on the floor, being pressed down by Tonowari, who started brutally punching him.

“Dad!” Y/n exclaimed after a while of staring in shock and horror. Tonowari stopped, the fisher down him was barely recognizable. “What?” He questioned, taking in what he had just done. He smiled at his child, “have you seen how daddy protected you?” He smiled proudly, not understanding why his kid looked at him that way.

#avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #yandere avatar (james cameron)#yandere avatar #avatar tonowari #tonowari x reader #yandere avatar tonowari #tonowari

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fawnlotties · 27 days

Note

band nat x groupie reader!! she’d probably spot you at one of her shows and would let you skip the line to meet her

but anyways she’d 100% sign your boobs if you asked her - 🍒

YES. YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES.

she knows that it’s against her best interest to involve herself with any fan. her management has told her countless times that her flirting will get her in trouble someday - but she’d risk it for pussy, honestly.

you hadn’t exactly intended to leave this gig as one of her band’s groupies but the moment you lock eyes with nat from your place in the queue along the sidewalk, it’s become your ultimate goal. you were waiting with a smaller group of fans to see the band’s van pull up behind the venue, and maybe it’s the mass hysteria or your hormones but you swear that nat stares at you for a good ten seconds. others around you claim the same thing but you know it was meant for you.

you weren’t anywhere near the front for the actual gig, meaning that waiting out front of the stage door was your last chance. it didn’t matter that you were towards the back of the crowd, because the moment that the group of girls emerges, there’s a guard clad in all black ushering you right to the front.

nat stands in all her smokey-eyed glory and even though she’s shorter than you, you feel like you could die. nat isn’t being coy about things either - her eyes are all over your chest and your neck and you don’t think it’s just ‘cause of her height. so with the last of your confidence you tug down your all-too tight tank, nipples dangerously close to flashing both the other girls and the crowd, and ask as sweetly as you can for her signature.

nat is thanking her lucky stars as the cool sharpie scribbles across the skin of the top of your breasts, not able to help her smirk. you’re too stunned, gaze trained entirely on how close her face was to your tits - then she was pulling away with a wink. you’re disappointed at the lack of a selfie or even being able to introduce yourself, but as the crowd swallows you and you finally gaze down at the markings on your chest, you notice a group of numbers scribbled hastily underneath her signature. oh shit.

nat was more than pleased to see how eager you were to adapt to the lifestyle. the first time she sneaks you onto her tour bus the other girls freak, lottie jealously exclaiming that none of the other girls were allowed to bring someone back, why was she?! but you were a sight for sore eyes, so their complaints soon faded. especially when lottie gained a soft spot for your best friend who you’d bring along to gigs…

you were nat’s shadow, almost. anywhere she was you were. tour bus, green room, backstage, even at airports disguised in a stupid all-black outfit that made you look like some kind of weirdo spy. but it was all worth it when nat would drag you back to their hotel after a gig, sweaty and worked up, claiming that she only has eyes for you as she bites at your neck. her makeup is even more smudged than usual as she details how fucking good you looked in the crowd lighting, lipstick smeared on the joint you share, and on your lips when you shotgun into her mouth.

of course you get shit from other nat-obsessed fans. your paparazzi pictures snapped with the girls at clubs were like some 2000s tabloid cliche but honestly? it made things even more fun. it didn’t matter how whirlwind or dysfunctional being nat’s groupie was, every single worry simply ceased to exist when her face was buried between your tits :3

side note - @deerlottie ‘s rockstar nat bot was the first ever nat bot i spoke to and im convinced it changed my brain chemistry. genuinely So Hot i think abt it Daily 🎀

#sorry i couldn’t help myself #🍒#nat thoughts 🎀#yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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landofadonises · 8 months

Text

Introduction - Welcome to my Catalogue of Short Stories! ♥

*** with update @ bottom, 7.8.2024!

For a somewhat official introduction, my nickname's Renny and I love all things size--huge muscles, huge bloated bellies, huge feet, incredible height, etc. etc., and I enjoy generating AI images to play into these fantasies and work out my creative writing muscles. I also love sharing and encouraging others to explore their fantasies just as much! :D

The blog is organized dutifully by tags (and should be functioning in the archive to search), and as different little universes and microcosms occur, you can filter as you'd like, and posts are also tagged by elements they have present: huge asses (or just big asses), hyper muscle or huge muscle, super tall, huge feet, hairy (if it ever generates perchance), and most importantly, macro or plausible size difference. Macro for the giga-tall dudes, plausible size difference for the ones we all wish were real and playin' out the day to day in their immense stature and height. c:

Always feel free to ask about prompts I used, tactics I've come up with/learned from other incredible people in the community, and anything else that comes to mind--even if it's just fawning over some humongous dudes! Just know that my prompts usually take a lot of shovin' through, with around a 30-55% success rate for the good ones. Sometimes I really have to mine deep for some of my pics. c:

I hope you enjoy your time here! ♥

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

7.8.24: hey guys! a lil' update here to explain the crickets and plentiful reblogs instead of my own content:

not gonna lie, the bing inspo's running a bit low! i have a stockpile that i'll be queueing up various individual images (sorry to my fellow 30-pic post enjoyers) once I have some free time, but novelai has been tons of fun that's keeping me occupied (not to mention the game releases recently, namely zenless zone zero, wuthering waves, and my reignited enjoyment of mabinogi LMAO) and these devious novelai activities are on my twitter!

please feel free to hop on over there to check out what's happenin' in the nsfw side of things if that's to your enjoyment, and as always, feel free to ask me Q's and whatever else.

y'know how it is--sometimes péén's more fun, even as an ace dude LOL

#rennypost #introduction #ai gay #gay

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freyito · 10 months

Text

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

guess whos getting sick.... yippee!! i like never get sick and when i do im like completely OUT. rn it's just a sore throat and a kind of cough but it's been getting worse all day so i figured i'd get this out and donesies with before i cant even leave my bed lol

cw: gn reader, just fluff, JEWISH JOHNNY (hes jewish and you arent gonna tell me otherwise), not proofread

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny does not care that you could possibly get him sick, he is all over you. Like not once does he leave your side. And if he has to? Then he's just picking you up and taking you with him. Even if you complain that you wanna stay in bed.

He's got a weeks worth of takeout planned. All your favorite comfort food, something cold for your throat, something warm, too. And he's always got a nice, cold bottle of water for you. He's very intent on you staying hydrated.

We all know he can't cook. But this man has ONE (1) thing he actually can make without messing up. Two words. Jewish. Penicillin. Good ol' Matzoh Ball Soup. Guaranteed to cure you (don't take his word). And it's damn good. It's the perfect temperature, and it runs down your throat so smoothly that it- for once- doesn't feel like sandpaper. It's bliss. Pure damn bliss.

Of COURSE you're gonna end up cuddled up on the couch or in bed, watching some sort of movie or show. It's Johnny Cage. But, he also just likes talking with you. Or, to you. He doesn't want you to lose your voice, now. He'll ramble on and on about cinema, history- literally any, but of course he's a bit partial to Sento and the Taira clan specifically.-, and physics, science, yada yada.

And he talks and talks for days on end. Until you get better. But who am I kidding, he talks then, too. And when you finally get better, it's actually a miracle that Johnny isn't sick. But he's even more clingy, after.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Unlike Johnny, Kenshi knows to give you space. Doesn't mean he isn't right by you the entire time, though. He's constantly checking your temperature, checking in on you in general. Do you need anything? How about a warm bath? Something to eat? Water? It's a constant stream of questions. He's just so worried about you, even if it is just a common cold.

He does order takeout as well, but it usually just amounts to soups and what not, he's kind of hellbent on making sure you eat the right foods and not something that could even make the cold slightly worse. He'll let popsicles slide, though... just no icecream. Hell no.

About that bath... Kenshi puts his heart and soul into it, for whatever reason. Epsom salt, some vitamin C bath foam, maybe some petals just to make it a little fancy. Oh, he's got it all. He wants to make sure you're at the height of relaxation.

Music and Audiobooks. He's got then playing, unless you ask for silence. Of course, he plays them kinda softly. He's a bit afraid of you getting a headache. It offers some sort of mental stimulation, though, while your huddled up in bed. He wants to make sure you don't feel bored while you're sick.

And once you're better... he's got so much laundry done. Like the very moment you're all energized and feeling better, he's like "oh the dryers done!". Kenshi wants to make sure there's no risk of you getting sick again, and to be honest, he pampers you a little extra, too.

#⁺◟freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 x gn reade #mortal kombat x gn reader #mk x gn reader #mk1 x gn reader #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #johnny cage x gn reader #kenshi takahashi x gn reader

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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— horror house

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, angst, enemies to lovers. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 6.2k

summary: you're stuck in a horror house alone—your only way out is with the guy who hates your guts. halloween themed enemies to lovers with minho. pirate!minho with a lip ring included.

afab!reader. profanity. mention of recreational drug use. insecure reader. anxiety mention. pet names. unprotected intercourse. oral (f.rec). jealous behaviour. possessive behaviour. praise kink.

At first it was only out of obligation to your friend. They’d only dated a few months but Minho had been a total dick when it ended, breaking it off over text and offering her no explanation. Then you’d had a class project with Chan, his best friend. You’d gotten along so well you’d accepted Minho was the price you’d have to pay to keep Chan around. You ignored Minho for the most part, still just out of loyalty to your heartbroken friend. It wasn’t until Chan’s birthday that your opinion of him was set in stone. You’d spent the previous month painting a landscape of a beach Chan had declared his favourite place on earth. When he’d unwrapped it and held it up for everyone to see, MInho had burst out in laughter.

That was when you decided you hated him. He’d fucked with your friend and he’d made you feel like shit about your only escapism hobby. It took months for you to get the soothing feeling back when you painted. You second guess every piece you made, wondering if everyone around you was just being nice when they said they were pretty. He was a dick and you hated him. Unfortunately, he stuck to Chan like glue. He was always buzzing around, making little biting comments about your clothes or your hair or something you’d said.

Tonight was no different. You were at a halloween event at the theme park with Chan, Minho and two other friends. It was supposed to just be you and Chan but when he'd called the day before to sheepishly admit Minho was tagging along, you’d invited two other friends to balance it out. The more people were there, the less you’d have to talk to him. So far you've received snark about your costume, about your choice of food, and about your refusal to ride one of the biggest rollercoasters. The guy was afraid of heights and he was being a dick about you not wanting to go on a ride. When you pointed out the irony he’d just grinned, “Yeah, and I’m going on it. So what does that say about you?” You’d grabbed his stupid pirate hate off his stupid head and shoved it into Chan’s arms. “Fine,” you’d said, “I’ll go on the stupid ride.” You’d marched off to join the queue, ignoring him when he’d begun taunting you about being afraid. When it was all over you’d struggled to contain your laughter. It wasn't that bad. If you were being totally honest it was pretty fun, but you weren’t telling him that.

He sits across from you now, biting the end off his stupidly long churro. You’d offered to buy Chan one when he’d pointed out the cart and Minho had latched onto the offer—asking at the last moment in front of the staff. He’d never paid for a single thing for you ever. His tongue pokes out to lick sugar off his lip. He had a fake lip ring on. What that had to do with pirates, you had no idea. You’d asked him when he’d shown up at Chan’s place earlier that night. He’d made fun of you for even noticing the fake jewellery. “What are you looking at my lips for?” he’d smirked.

“You’re gonna swallow that thing,” you say now, watching the small silver ring disappear slowly between his lips as he chews.

He looks up from his churro and keeps his eyes on yours—his tongue poking out again to push it back in place. Then the corner of his mouth lifts a little. “Still can’t take your eyes off my mouth?”

“I was hoping you’d choke on it.”

“I wanna go to the horror house next,” Chan announces, interrupting before Minho can offer one of his uninspired retorts. You hate horror houses. You hate horror mazes. Halloween was fun as long as no one was jumping out from behind corners to scare you. But you can’t back out, not after the roller coaster. He’d find some way to make it worse than just going without complaint.

“I like your costume,” a girl dressed as some kind of sexy demon says as she brushes her fingers across the brim of Minho’s hat. That was another thing, he was the worst flirt you’d ever come across in your life. Anywhere you went there would be some girl draped over him, feeding into his huge fucking ego. You wanted to pull them aside and explain why he was the last guy in the world they wanted to lather in praise. You never did, though. He’d think you were jealous and trying to drive off the competition.

“Thanks,” he smiles at the girl, “What are you?”

“A succubus.”

Honestly, you wish she’d flirted with you instead. She looked hot. Your costume didn’t do a lot for your figure. You wore a long white dress with puffed sleeves at the shoulders—a spattering of fake blood carefully added around the hem. It was supposed to be an homage to your favourite horror film, Crimson Peak. Minho had asked why you’d come dressed in a bedsheet. If you were trying to do a ghost he could cut two holes in it and pull it up over your head, he’d offered generously.

“The sex demons?” Minho’s voice is deeper than usual as he flirts with the hot demon girl. It was ridiculous. Easy ammunition to use against him later.

“They visit people in their dreams and seduce them,” she purrs as she fiddles with the laces at the front of her corset.

You look to the front of the queue you're standing in then turn to Chan, attempting to tune out the flirting. “Please, distract me before I puke,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles before speaking, not bothering to whisper.

“It’s honestly impressive how long you’ve kept this up. When will you let him off the hook, hm?”

Minho and the hot demon girl shuffle forward as the queue moves. You don’t, letting them create some distance before you speak. “He’s a prick. I’ve explained what he did.”

“He had a messy break up with a girl you aren’t even friends with anymore.”

You say nothing, crossing your arms and leaning back against the railing. You watch him study your face out the corner of your eye before he speaks again, “Ah. It’s not about that is it?” You keep your mouth shut. “Is it about the painting? You know I love that thing. It’s hung up in a prime location.”

Minho and the hot demon girl have moved even further forward in the queue, giving you the confidence to speak. “It’s not about the painting. He’s just a dick.”

“Why would I be best friends with someone who is just objectively a dick?”

“You tell me.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Well maybe he’s just a dick to me then.”

Chan is quiet and just as you think he’s dropped the subject he speaks again, “Oh, I get it.”

“What?”

“Can you move up!?” someone behind you shouts. You shuffle forward to where Minho and the hot demon girl are still flirting. Chan nudges you. You ignore him.

You have your eyes squeezed shut, your grip on Chan’s bicep the only thing keeping you upright. Minho and the others are up ahead, leaving you and Chan to stumble forward clumsily. Every now and then you hear Minho shouting up ahead, he was jumpy—like you. That didn’t matter though, you’d cop an earful if he saw you cowering in fear.

“Can you loosen up just a little?” Chan asks, attempting to pull his arm from your grip.

“No.”

He stops walking, halting you with him. “Let go for a second.”

“No.”

“Just for a second.”

You hesitantly release him, instantly regretting it and reaching to grab him again—eyes closed. You feel nothing but empty space. “Chan?” you call, failing to hide the panic in your voice. “This isn’t funny.” All you hear is the sound of his retreating footsteps. “Chan!” When you get no response, you freeze. Too afraid to open your eyes or make any more noise. When his footsteps return you reach out blindly. “Please,” you beg, voice wobbling a little.

“You alright?” Minho’s voice. Fuck. Open your eyes, you plead with yourself. “Jesus, Chan said you were afraid, not catatonic.”

You peek one eye open, he’s directly in front of you—smiling like he’s just stumbled upon pirates' gold. “I’m fine,” you mutter unconvincingly.

“Alright, Let’s head back to the others then,” he says, turning to leave.

You squeeze your eyes shut again. “Wait! I—” you interrupt yourself, regretting the outburst instantly.

“Mm?”

“I need…” you trail off, cringing.

“Yes? What do you need?” His voice is sickly sweet.

“You,” you finish, shoulders slumping in resignation.

“This wasn’t exactly the place I imagined you finally admitting that.”

“I need you to lead me through, you idiot.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Say ‘pretty please Minho, you’re so strong and handsome’.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Then there was silence. You’re afraid for a second he’d somehow crept away without you hearing. You open your mouth to suck in a breath and call his name—a soft tickle of breath against your cheek halting you. “Say please,” he whispers directly into your ear.

A small shiver runs through your spine. “Will you please be nice to me for once and let me hold your arm?”

“Okay,” he says lightly, as if he hasn’t just made you beg for his help. His hand touches yours lightly and you think he’s guiding your hand to his arm—instead he intertwines your fingers. Before you can protest he’s pulling you along, making you stumble a little at his quick pace. You peek an eye open just as something drops from the ceiling. You scream, jumping forward to latch onto Minho—fingers grasping at the linen of his pirate shirt. His fingers tighten around yours, “You really that scared?”

“Shut up.”

“Can you afford to be rude to me right now?”

“I’ve got a hold of you now, I’m not letting go even if you decide to abandon me.”

He chuckles and then he’s attempting to detach you from his shirt. “I can’t walk with you attached to my front like this,” he whines. You relent, releasing the fabric to quickly wrap around his bicep, one hand in his, and one grasping his arm. “Really?” he complains. Before you can respond he's walking, movements slowed by your shuffling. You flinch at each jumpscare, feeling his small jolts as he reacts similarly. You don’t comment on it, afraid if you poke at him too much he really will leave you.

When he stops moving finally and announces you’re at the end, it takes you a moment to gather yourself. Then you spring off him. Chan and the others are standing with the hot demon girl and her friend, chatting and laughing like they hadn’t just emerged from that nightmare. It’s only at that moment you register Minho had left the girl he’d been flirting with to come back and help you.

“You okay?” Minho’s soft voice pulls your attention to his face.

“Why did you come help instead of Chan?”

“He asked.”

You nod in understanding. “Right,” you say before walking over to join the others. He did it because Chan asked. Because he’s nice to Chan and everyone else, apparently. When Minho joins the group, hot demon girl latches onto him—grasping his arm a lot like you had minutes earlier. She leans up to whisper in his ear and then his eyes widen a little. You watch over the next few minutes as his ears tinge red.

“Hello?” Chan’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

“What?”

“I said we’re gonna head back to my place for drinks.”

“Oh, alright.”

“You coming?”

“Sure.”

“Oi! We’re going back to mine!” Chan shouts to Minho much louder than needed. Minho looks up, eyes meeting yours. He looks away to whisper in the demon girl's ear. She smiles and nods. You turn to follow Chan and the others back to the car.

“She’s not coming,” you struggle to keep your voice down, looking back over to the others standing around the car. You’d dragged Minho out of demon girl's earshot.

“Why not?” Minho answers, his calm demeanour working you up more.

“She doesn’t fit.”

He looks back to the car. “She can sit on my lap.”

“That’s illegal.”

He laughs. You want to stomp his stupid hat into the pavement. “You smoked weed a few hours ago,” he says.

“That’s different.”

His lips quirk up at the corners. “Yeah?”

“Unless you call the cops yourself, I’m not getting in trouble for that. All it would take is Chan getting pulled over and we’re all fucked.”

He smiles properly, eyes crinkling. “When are you going to admit you’re in love with me?”

You throw your arms in the air. “Are you making fun of me right now? I—God.. just—Do whatever the fuck you want then. I’m over it,” you storm back to the car, pulling the front passenger door open and slamming it shut after you. You struggle to hold tears back. Why the fuck are you crying? Overwhelmed from the horror house, you assume. You take a few deep breaths and then everyone is climbing in the car. You don’t turn around, keeping your eyes fixed out the windscreen. When Chan doesn’t start the car after a few minutes you turn, noticing Minho and demon girl outside the car still. She gives him a hug and you look away quickly. When Minho enters the car alone, you say nothing.

Chan passes you another drink, giving you a pointed look before settling himself back in one of the chairs across the fire pit. You hadn't said much at all since getting in the car. Chan noticed, you guessed. You were getting a little hot in your long dress. You doubted you’d be making it home tonight. You often ended up crashing at Chan’s place on nights like this, it was a bit like a second home—even if he shared it with Minho.

“You alright?” one of your other friends asks as they lean over from their chair next to you, “You’ve been a little quiet.”

“Just a bit hot,” you say, offering her a small smile.

“Oi! Come have a go!” Minho shouts at you from where he’s having a sword fight with your friend dressed as a Jedi. It’s sword versus lightsaber.

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, not caring if he can hear you. You make eye contact with Chan across the fire. He nods his head in their direction. You shake your head back.

“She’ll have a go!” he shouts. Traitor. You knew Chan had a longstanding agenda of making you and Minho friends. He wasn’t subtle about it.

A lightsaber is shoved in your face. You look up to find Minho grinning down at you. “Take it,” he says, shaking the weapon in front of you. You snatch it, standing to follow him to the patch of grass he’d chosen as the battlefield. He holds his fake pirate sword out in your direction, adopting a dramatic fighting stance. You roll your eyes.

“How does this thing light up?” you ask, searching the surprisingly sturdy plastic lightsaber for any buttons. You find one. It lights up blue.

“You ready?” he asks.

“What are the rules? How do I win?”

“Stab the other person in the stomach.”

You lunge for him with no warning. He jumps back, blocking you with his sword. “Sneaky,” he chuckles, backing up slowly as you keep attacking. He keeps backing up until he reaches the fence, nowhere else to go. Then he attacks. He swings the sword so hard you’re amazed the two plastic toys are holding up. He doesn’t seem like he’s actually aiming for your stomach, having too much fun swinging at you wildly.

He clips your hand. “Ow!” you yell, dropping your weapon to the ground and shaking your hand in the air—failing to ease the sting at all.

He stops, sword falling to his side. “Oh, shit. Are you alright?”

You blow on your hand then bend to grab the lightsaber. “I’m fine,” you say, fired up now. “Keep going.”

He frowns, eyes on your still stinging hand. You take advantage of his distraction, jumping forward to shove the tip of your weapon into his stomach. He grunts as you hit him and then he’s laughing, reaching forward to grab you and wrap his arms around you—holding you hostage.

“Get off,” you groan, wiggling in his hold. He squeezes you tighter.

“That was dirty play.”

“We didn’t make any rules. Let go.”

“Say please.”

“Fuck off.”

He releases you and you storm off, grabbing your drink and heading inside. You were hot just sitting around but after that? You needed to change out of this stupid costume. The high collar was making you feel suffocated. You place your drink on the kitchen countertop and lean over the sink to splash your face with cold water. While you shake your hands dry your gaze drifts to the large painting hanging proudly in the centre of the largest wall in the house. When you’d first seen where Chan had hung your painting, you’d been unable to keep a smile off your face. Either he really did like it or he liked you enough to hang it there anyway. Either way, it soothed a little of the sting Minho had dealt when he’d laughed at it.

You head up the stairs, making your way to Chan’s room. It wasn’t unusual for you to borrow clothes from him when you stayed over. You’re sifting through his shorts, trying to find the pair that fit you well when you’re startled for the hundredth time today.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for clothes, get out.”

Minho wanders into the room, slowly making his way over to you—hands in his pockets. “I’ve got clothes.”

“Obviously.”

“Use mine.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask just before he presses the drawer closed, forcing you to pull your hands out. You look up at him, too tired to fight him. “Fine,” you sigh before leading the way to his bedroom. His soft footfalls follow you. You turn at his door, blocking the doorway with your arm. “I don’t need help.” He ducks under your arm.

You debate whether it’s worth trying to make a run for it back to Chan’s room. There’s a lock on his door. “Hurry up, don’t you want to get out of that bedsheet.” You spin around to find him sorting through a pile of clothes at the end of his bed.

“It’s not a sheet, it’s a nightgown from a gothic horror.”

“You went to a theme park in pyjamas?” he taunts, continuing to dig through the pile, “You got all that fancy stuff under there?” You say nothing, watching him from the doorway. “Ya know like a corset and stockings and all that olden days crap?”

“It’s a nightgown, why would I have anything underneath?”

“You make it sound like you have nothing on at all,” he asks without looking up, busy with his search. You lean back against the doorframe and cross your arms, saying nothing. His hands abruptly halt and he looks up at you. “No…you’re kidding.”

“Are those dirty?” you ask, pointing at the pile of clothes. He drops the shirt he’d been holding, taking small steps over to you slowly—like you might spook.

“Not even panties?” he asks, ignoring your question.

“Don’t be a perv.”

“Me? You were staring at my lips all night.” You drop your eyes to his chest, the neckline of his pirate costume lower than anything you’d seen him wear before. “Oh, my chest too?” You snap your eyes back to his.

“If I was staring it was only because of your nauseating attempt at flirting. It must be tiring dropping your voice so much lower than it is naturally. That girl is lucky she got out of coming back here. I bet you’re a lousy fuck.”

“I dunno how many more of your insults I can take. As cute as the little line is between your brows when you get angry, I do have feelings.”

You frown. Cute?

“Mm, that’s the one.”

You quickly adopt a neutral expression. “I’m going back to Chan’s,” you announce, not moving.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” he says, taking a small step closer, “I’d rather you stayed here…stay here and take that thing off.”

“Get out so I can change, then.”

“No.”

“Get the fuck out.”

“You want me to fuck you instead? Is that it, huh? That’s why you’re being brattier than usual. You watched me all night and then when I paid attention to that girl instead of you, you lost it.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I called her right now and told her to come over? She gave me her number, ya know. Told me to call her if I decided I wanted to fuck her after all. Tell me you don’t want me to call her. Tell me you want me to fuck you instead.”

“Why—” you pause as he tugs at the strings keeping his shirt together at the front, revealing even more of his chest. “Why would I want to fuck someone who hates me?” you finish, hoping your voice sounds even.

“Hates you?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

His expression softens, catching you off guard. “Why would I hate you?” His voice is soft now too.

“You—You don’t?”

“No, baby. I don’t hate you.”

You examine his face for any indication he’s messing with you. “But—”

“Is that why you’ve been running from me? Hm? Why you won’t admit you love me?” His fingers play with the fabric of your nightgown before he begins pulling it up slightly—the material bunching in his fist.

Why does he keep saying that? “I don’t.”

“You don’t love me? I have feelings, remember. You can’t say something nice to me? I won’t tell anyone.” He says, a small smirk forming. The way he was switching between soft tones and snark was giving you whiplash. Your eyes drop to the ring still attached to his lip. “Always looking at my mouth…”

You're quiet as he continues slowly bunching up the fabric of your dress, then you whisper, “I-I like the ring.”

He grins. “Yeah? Is that all?”

“I like the shirt,” your voice just above a whisper this time.

“Do you like the shirt and the ring or do you like them on me?” The dress is up to your thighs now, both his hands under the hem to bunch all the fabric up. His knuckles brush your skin lightly. “You really have nothing under here?” he asks before you can respond to his first question.

You reach down to take one of his hands, keeping eye contact as you guide him up your thighs slowly. You pause, “You really mean it? You—you aren’t fucking with me?”

“Hm?”

“You don't hate me?” you clarify.

“You really thought I hated you?”

You frown, confused. “You’re always—You’re nice to everyone but me.”

“I thought we were playing. You’re so fun to play with.” He smiles. “You don’t like playing with me?”

“You laughed at my painting.”

He frowns a little. “Your painting? The one you gave Chan?”

You nod.

“I was laughing because all I got him that year was a new case for his phone. He made me promise not to get him anything ‘big’ and then you walk in the house carrying the biggest present I've ever seen in my life. It was bigger than you for fuck’s sake. I held it back until he opened the thing.” He chuckles at the memory. “The amount of wrapping paper around his legs…I got him a phone case.”

“You didn’t think it was bad?”

“Why would I hang it up in the centre of the house if I thought it was ugly?”

“You—You put it there?”

“Mm,” he confirms, eyes flicking down to where his hand disappeared under your dress. Oh right, his hand was under your dress. You take a deep breath before continuing to guide his hand up your thighs, hesitating when you reach your centre. “It’s alright,” he whispers, retracting his hand a little before you stop him. You hold him there as you examine his face. His ears are tinged red. Maybe he really isn’t messing with you. Maybe he really did want this. You gently guide him to your cunt, sucking in a shallow breath as his fingers brush your folds. He wraps his free hand around the back of your neck, holding you close to him. “Fuck,” he breathes. “You really went to that theme park with your little pussy bare like this? Shit, the way you were latched onto me in the house…you were all shivery and jumpy and I didn’t even know your little cunt was naked…”

You watch the little silver ring on his bottom lip as he plays with you.

“Bet that guy at the churro stand would’ve lost his mind if he knew you were all naked under here…he already looked like he was imagining how you’d look with his cock in your mouth,” he continues, fingers stroking you slowly.

“What guy?” you breathe.

“You didn’t notice him ogling you the entire time we ate? Were you too busy watching my mouth? Hm? Am I that distracting, baby?” You say nothing, focusing on keeping your breathing even. “No? You don’t get all worked up when I’m around?” The tip of his finger dips inside you before retreating, teasing your entrance over and over again. You grip his bicep to keep your balance—legs wobbling a little. His tongue pokes out to play with the ring briefly.

‘Stop,” you gasp out—overwhelmed. You’re unsure whether you mean his fingers on your cunt or his tongue on his lip. He drops both hands from your body, taking a quick step back. He looks at you like could shatter his world with your next move.

You grip the hem of your dress and pull it up over your head—stumbling back a step, thrown slightly off balance by the weight of the bunched fabric. When you drop it to the floor and look back up at Minho his eyes are glazed over—hands clenched at his side.

“Hate you?” he huffs out a breath of laughter before approaching you slowly. He takes your hand gently, lifting it up and turning it back and forth as he inspects it. It’s the hand you’d hurt in your sword fight, you realise. You’d completely forgotten about it, the stinging long gone.

“Promise me. Promise you aren’t going to take this all back…that you mean it,” you say, giving him one last chance to back out.

He rests his palm gently at your hip, gliding up and down your waist slowly before dropping to your lower back. He pushes you into him, your torso pressed to his. “Promise,” he mutters and then his lips are on yours. He’s not gentle at all. It’s desperate and messy and it isn’t long before his lip ring comes off in your mouth. You pull back enough to pluck it from between your lips, holding it up like pirate's loot—unable to hold back a grin.

“Don’t lose this,” you say as you tuck it into one of his pockets before pulling him back to you. His hair is messed from wearing the pirate’s hat for hours and you can’t resist tangling your fingers in it as you hold him to you. He grabs a handful of your ass in return. “The door is open,” you murmur into his mouth as he walks you backwards towards the bed. He makes no indication he’s heard you and then the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. He lowers you onto your back slowly, your legs dangling off the bed. He pecks your mouth once more before walking over to shut and lock the door. You sit up on your elbows as he approaches you again, watching him pull the flimsy shirt over his head. You trail your eyes down to where his hands work to unbuckle his belt.

“Spread your legs for me,” he says, prompting you to look up to his face. His eyes are locked between your legs as he tugs at his belt.

“Say please.”

He looks up to your eyes, a small smile forming on his face. “Cheeky. You like playing too, don’t you? You’ve always liked it, playing with me.”

You offer him a small smile in return.

“Please, spread your legs for me,” he says, shoving his pants down his legs. Your eyes drop to his thighs as you slowly spread your legs apart, offering yourself to him. “Fuck,” he mutters, dropping to his knees. He settles himself between your legs, pushing your thighs apart a little more. “Say something nice to me and I’ll make you feel good,” he says, one finger stroking you lightly. You struggle not to squirm, the teasing touch making you desperate for more. “Go on, you can do it,” he encourages.

“Your mouth is pretty,” you mutter under your breath.

“Hm? What was that?” he says, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“I think…your lips are nice.”

“I know,” he says sweetly and then he’s leaning forward to press a kiss to your dripping cunt. He holds your thighs apart as you involuntarily attempt to squeeze them together. “Again,” he murmurs, lips brushing against you. You fail to hold in a whine. “Something nice,” he prompts.

“Thighs,” you breathe out, unable to form a full sentence.

“Yeah?” His breath tickles you as he speaks. “So I wasn’t imagining it at the beach the other day…kept catching you looking.” You feel your cheeks warm, embarrassed. The man had his face between your legs and you were blushing over the fact he’d caught you looking at his thighs. He presses his lips to your mound, rewarding you by tracing light kisses down to your entrance. You replay the memory of his lips with the small silver ring attached to the lower, how he looked with his tongue poking out to play with it, how he looked licking sugar off his lips.

By the last kiss you’re failing to keep your hips still in your attempt to get a little friction from somewhere, anywhere. His palm moves to press against your lower stomach, and then his warm, wet tongue is licking a long stripe back up to your clit. A whine of his name slips from your lips. “Yes?” His voice is sickly sweet again, in total contrast with the act he’s engaged in.

You fail to lift your head off the bed, muscles too relaxed. “More,” you plead, unbothered with how desperate you sound now.

“More? More of me? You want more of my tongue on your wet little pussy?”

“Mm.”

“Say it. You want me.”

“...want you.”

“My name.”

“Minho…want you… please…Min…”

“So sweet,” he mutters before attaching his mouth to you again. He keeps his palm on your lower stomach, applying just enough pressure to keep your hips on the bed as he works you up to your high. You grasp at his bedsheets as you picture his pretty lips, then he groans. The vibrations against your cunt send you over the edge, mind blanking as you cum. He presses you into the bed a little harder as your hips attempt to rise off the bed. He’s muttering against you. You make out nothing he says.

By the time you come down he’s hovering above you, lips and chin glistening with your wetness. You pull him down to attach your mouth to his, wordlessly thanking him. He moans into your mouth and presses his body down onto you, your breasts pressing into his bare chest. His hard cock rests against your thigh. He’s kissing you differently from earlier, while that was desperate and rough, this is slow and sensual—as if he’s savouring his reward.

“You clean?” you mutter against his lips, impatient to feel him inside you.

“Hm? You gonna let me fill you up?”

“Answer the question.”

“Yeah, baby. I’m clean. Now answer mine.”

“You can, if you like, have an IUD.”

“Tell me what you want. I wanna hear you ask me nicely.”

“Or I could just leave. You got me off, I'm good to go.”

He pulls himself off you, returning to his standing position at the end of the bed. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see him, his eyes are trailing up and down your body. “You don’t want this?” he asks as he starts slowly stroking himself. “Look how hard you make me,” he mutters, thumb brushing over his tip. You sit up, eyes level with his cock. You look up at him.

“Are you fishing for compliments on your dick now? You got a praise kink?”

“Will you tell me nice things if I say I do.”

“What do I get in return?”

“I just made you cum.”

“That’s true, that was nice of you,” you say, watching one corner of his mouth quirk up. “Alright, you have a nice dick.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

You drop your eyes back to his cock, his hand still slowly stroking up and down. It was true. He did have a nice dick. It was thick and curved slightly up, not too long but long enough to make it the nicest dick you’ve seen. You wonder if you could handle his ego if you said that out loud.

“It’s pretty,” you say instead, “pretty and—and it looks like it’d fill me up nicely.”

“Mm? You gonna let me cum inside? You want me to?”

You look up to his eyes again, they’re hooded—his jaw clenched. “Yeah,” you breathe.

“Lay back on the pillows,” he says, “please.”

You shuffle back on the bed, failing to hold back a smile. His cock bounces as he crawls towards you and then he’s settling himself over you. You hold your breath, anxiety seeping back into your chest again. How could you have got it so wrong? It didn’t make sense.

“Have you—have you wanted this… for a while?” you ask, as he hovers over you—pearl choker hanging a little from his neck. Apparently he’d decided pirates wore pearl chokers and lip rings. You weren’t complaining.

“A little while,” he mutters, eyes dropping from yours.

“Then you’re a terrible flirt.”

He huffs out a short breath of laughter, eyes meeting yours again. “I thought we were good at it.”

“It might’ve helped if I knew that’s what we were doing.”

“You know now.”

“I know now.”

He kisses you, tongue dipping between your lips. He plays with your lip a little like he had with the ring. You moan, encouraging him to guide his cock to your cunt. He keeps his lips on yours as he enters you, a low groan vibrating through his chest. He’s quiet at first as you both savour feeling the other so completely. Each time he presses in, you can’t help thinking about his thighs—the thighs he’s currently using to fuck his pretty cock deep inside you. He seems to be working himself up as well, his breathing getting heavier.

“My pretty baby…letting me fuck you raw…” he mumbles against your mouth, “You were so cute… getting all worked up because I talked to another girl, hm?”

“She was hot,” you say, attempting to justify yourself.

“I could call her, she might wanna join in,” he says, lifting his face from yours to look over your face.

You frown. “No.”

He chuckles, “No? You think I’m yours? Think I belong to you?” You wrap your legs around him, holding him to you. The second time you’d wrapped yourself around him that day. You imagine if you could send a message back in time, to the version of you attached to his bicep in the horror house. Would you ever be able to comprehend this is where you’d be a few hours later? That you’d be under him like this in his bed, his thick cock stretching you open. “Yeah? You want me to be yours?” he continues, taking your clinginess as an answer. He presses his face to your neck as his pace picks up.

“Want you—,” you whisper into his ear, “want you to be mine, just mine.” A whine escapes him, high and sweet—encouraging you to continue. “Couldn’t look away from your lips tonight, that ring…you’re so hot. Prettiest lips…”

“Shit,” he mumbles against your skin, hips stuttering a little as he fucks into you.

“And the beach,” you continue, “I was so distracted all day. It was maddening. You walked out of the water with your shorts all wet, stuck to your thighs…made me all hot.”

He pulls his face from your neck, eyes locking onto yours as he pulls out and thrusts into you hard, once, twice, three times. Then he’s coming, mouth attaching to yours as he fills you. You clench around him, drawing one last pretty moan from his lips. He pants into your mouth as he catches his breath.

“Mm, definitely a praise kink,” you whisper, fingers tangling in his hair.

a/n: i lied. it wasn’t exactly enemies to lovers. it was enemies to lovers but only one of them thinks they’re enemies, the other has been in love the whole time. unreliable narrator. oop. happy halloween.

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