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pellucid-constellations · 7 months ago

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If It All Fell (7)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad

a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

Azriel

Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.

“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this.

He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.

She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected.

“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.”

Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s.

“Azriel?”

The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him.

“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips.

“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip.

“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”

“Like a lover?”

Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out.

That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic.

Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else.

This was somehow worse.

“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.”

“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together.

“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.”

You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?”

“What?” he choked out.

“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?”

“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.”

You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.”

Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep.

Yes, this was much worse than the last time.

Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you.

The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there.

Useless.

A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable.

There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron.

And he had told you that he had one.

That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much?

Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you.

You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck.

“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?”

Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor.

“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.”

He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids.

“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him.

You felt his breath at your arm.

“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed.

“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.

“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”

“Very little. I’ve been here.”

“For how long?”

“You slept for a day and a half.”

“And you stayed the entire time?”

“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.”

You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.”

“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air.

Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.”

He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down.

“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.”

You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.”

The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?”

His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well.

An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?”

Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.”

You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.”

“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.”

“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.”

Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.”

You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.”

“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.”

You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better.

You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead.

Azriel was so beautiful it hurt.

“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.

The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly.

“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Has something happened? Between the two of you?”

“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—”

“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You remember what I said?”

“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"

The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into.

“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—”

“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate.

“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.”

You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion?

The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous.

You shouldn’t have asked.

“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?”

“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—”

“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.”

Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—”

“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned.

“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.”

“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate.

You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them.

“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.”

Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?

Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head.

Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive.

But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.”

Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?”

“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.”

Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.”

“How much time?” Azriel strained.

Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.”

“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.”

Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.”

Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned.

“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone.

The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered.

“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed.

In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else.

Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion.

You removed your hand from his.

Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure.

“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—”

“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair.

“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.”

And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact.

A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord.

If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were.

But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst

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freyito · 8 months ago

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hiii first of all i just love your drabbles 🫶🫶🫶 Can i request mk1 characters reactions when their partner is hurt? yk when they found out that their s/o is in the hospital or sth. You can write for whoever you want but I would love if you include Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi and Syzoth in this ❤️❤️

✭ pairing(s): liu kang, bi-han [sub zero], kuai liang [scorpion], johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, kung lao, raiden, zeffeero [rain], tomas vrbada [smoke], baraka, syztoh [reptile], havik, general shao, shang tsung, reiko (seperate) x gn reader

✧ a/n: thank u smmmmmm anon!!! i hope this doesnt sound egotistical or anything, but i really cant get enough of people telling me they love my writing, it's really affirming and i will always appreciate it ! it's always like... woah.... really......

this is the perfect request, but i am gonna put my own little spin on this and make it pretty angsty, whoops :P super sorry this one took so long too.... ough i put my heart and soul into it. i hope i am not only tumblr user freyito to you, but an angst writer too... well most of these are angst. some are a little more fluffy and less dire... also just could not for the life of me figure out what to write for geras' so no geras in this one :(

🗒 cw: gn reader, certain character's deaths, gore/blood, depiction of death, angst, in some you are close to death, stitching without painkillers in havik's, kidnapping in shang tsung's/mention of kidnapping in rain's, not proofread

✎ wc: 6.3k

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ + ᴀ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⎯Liu Kang

Not much evokes emotion in him. He is a god, he must been even with his feelings, and any shift in the balance could set so many things wrong. On the battlefield, there is no room for failure. With you, he's always been relatively neutral, he makes sure you know he loves you, and he's gentle with you. Yet, he keeps a distance. Liu Kang harbors a fear deep down, that his actions, his status, will bring you to your end. He's a sought out target, after all.

So, when those fears come true, Liu Kang can't help but feel his rage consume him. To watch Shang Tsung's claws dig deep into you, festering, plaguing your own strength. Ripping into you, decorating his hands in your warm blood. Shang Tsung had done this because of Liu Kang, he was so sure. Flames engulfed him, near incinerating the foot soldier he had been fighting. He approaches Shang Tsung, as you lay at his feet, struggling to breathe. Unforgivable. To do this to his starlight, Liu Kang will not make this mans death slow and savory, no. Within an instant, he pushes Shang Tsung's head through his own body, splitting the man in half, as well. Death is too merciful, but alas, that is not important, now.

Once the initial wave of anger washes off, adrenaline and logic set in. Liu Kang picks you up, he treats you as if you're porcelain. Just barely, as you struggle to stay conscious, you can hear him assuring you it's okay. That nothing else will happen. It is unclear whether he is saying this to you, or himself. Regardless, he leaves the battlefield quickly. He knows his comrades can handle the rest. But knowing that he is so close to losing you, as you bleed out within his arms, it is haunting. Every second counts, and he knows it. He entrusts your care to the medics at the Wu Shi academy, as much as he trusts them, he cannot bring himself to leave your side. For hours, he is still covered in your blood. His eyes do not leave your face, resting and peaceful, even with death knocking on your door.

Liu Kang is there every step of the way. When you are in recovery, he makes sure to attend every session. He brings you books, something to keep you occupied on the days where you are stuck in bed. Regrettably, he can't enjoy a lot of alone time with you, because duty calls. He'd love nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you, but he still has stuff to attend to. However, when you are cleared to leave the academy, he keeps you close. Liu Kang is afraid it will happen, the image of you bloodied and ripped up still fresh in his mind. He's only a little protective, the thought of you going back into Kombat a little rattling. But he does not stop you. Because it makes him feel better knowing that you are back on your feet.

⎯ Bi-Han

As the grandmaster's partner, Bi-Han knows that you could be caught in danger. But he does not lament this. He does not celebrate it, either. He admires that you can fight, and he loves fighting by your side. He always looks out for you, of course he does. But he cannot be by your side in a large fight, he knows you can hold your own.

It is a sharp cry that draws his attention towards you. That is all he needs. Bi-Han prides himself on being an even and logical man, but the minute he sees A Tengu assassin's knife dug deep into your ribs, he snaps. Within an instant the battlefield grows colder, and the second you blink, the assassin already has his spine ripped out and shattered. A little bit of a flashy display for a man like him, but he wastes no time in bathing in the glory of his kill. He was lucky enough that the fight was nearing an end, the last of the Tengu clan that was sent out were either retreating or being taken care of.

Off you go to the medics of the Lin Kuei, and he insists you are priority. The one thing Bi-Han was unfair with was you, near fighting with the medics to tend to your wounds. Your blood paints his hands and upper torso, and he refuses to wash it off. Not until he knows that you have priority. When the medics relent, he finally disappears to wash off. He cannot stay by your side as much as he'd like, but he's not only restricted by his title, but his emotions. He takes a couple minutes outside, to calm down his own nerves. Bi-Han does not cry, but a few shaky breaths escape him as he tries to calm himself down. His mind races with every possible outcome, ultimately landing on the worst.

But, Bi-Han's thoughts do not come to fruition. The medics have worked their magic, and you are on the path to recovery. As much as he'd love to be with you, he cannot. But, he does send you a bunch of gifts. Letters, mainly. Small incentives for you to recover quickly, but he sends in flowers frequently, as well. The days he does visit you, he is a softer man. He's especially gentle with you around your ribs. He keeps a very close eye on you during missions once you are out of recovery. He doesn't mean to seem overbearing, but his position alone paints a big ol' target on your head. This attack was the first that brought that to his attention.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Fighting alongside a pyromancer is tricky, to say the least. There's a lot of variables to account for, and aside from that, Kuai Liang can't really keep an eye on you in certain instances. This was one of them, a rather messy battle, one where he couldn't keep track of you. Not that it mattered, he knew you were strong enough to hold your own.

However, it is a stray spark that leads you to stumble back. You flinch, which drives you back into the sword of the enemy. When Kuai sees this… the world goes silent. Water stills, flame fizzle out, swords clash and the dull clang of steel against steel quiets. Only for the water to suddenly form a raging tide, the flames to burn brighter, and the steel fades against the sound of a brilliant flame. In your fading vision, you see your partner's kusarigama impale your attacker's jaw, and pull it clean off. It is a sight he will regret later.

When the battle is over and the medics have taken you away, all Kuai Liang finds himself doing is worry. Pacing constantly, he messes up the mission report and has to have Tomas or someone else from the Shirai Ryu. He can recount things normally without a hitch, but knowing that it was him and his own ‘reckless’ use of his pyromancy with you in such close proximity makes him trip over his words, and even his thoughts. With what little free time he has, he’s pacing outside your cot, frequently checking in on the medics and the progress, until they ultimately have to push him away. Which calms him down, somewhat.

When the medics assure him that everything is fine, and that you are on the path to recovery, he’s much more relieved. He’s a lot less tense, and he’s a lot more coherent. He’s able to compose himself. Granted, he tends to sneak off (when appropriate) to check on you. He really just loves talking with you afterwards, he doesn’t want to bring up any unpleasant memories or thoughts (particularly what you saw before you blacked out), but there will always be a point where you have to talk about it. He’ll also ramp up his affection. The entire ordeal (while he knew what would come with forming the Shirai Ryu) made him realize that maybe he takes you for granted. Kuai Liang has been surrounded by death, sure, but for some reason, when it comes to those he loves… it is hard to understand that life is fleeting.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny is used to deaths and his partner being hurt… on screen. He’s so used to the dramatized version, where his stage partner dies in his arms, and he wails real loud. He’s blissfully unaware that it could, in fact, happen to you in real life. He likes to think of himself as a great source of protection, believes no harm will come your way, not when you’ve got just a big, strong, handsome hunk around. And one of Earthrealm’s Defenders. As much as he’s grown, he still needs to learn a few lessons from the world.

And he’s in for a reality check. There are some unsavory characters out there, ones that aren’t too happy about his status as a whole. All he gets is a call from the hospital and a nice little greeting from officers. The only things he can make out in his newfound panic is ‘attempted murder’, and he’s REELING. He wasn’t there, he reminds himself. He doesn’t know what went down. Officers are still trying to figure it out. In his hazy and reckless state, he goes to his best friend.

Kenshi helps ease his nerves, and gives him a couple of LOGICAL ideas. Considering Shang Tsung had wormed his way into Kenshi’s life to steal Sento (and ultimately got his ass beat), he brings it up. Which leads to a whole meeting with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Kung Lao. To discuss the possible threats, and the future. Johnny cannot sit still that meeting, he’s practically bouncing off the walls, asking what this means for you. Every single question is about you, and you alone. Liu Kang dismisses him, and he practically speeds off to the hospital.

Johnny relaxes when he’s able to finally enter your room,– after a lot of arguing with the doctors about visiting hours– but his mind still spins. How could he let this slide? He should’ve been there, right? Regardless of how much blame he puts on himself, (which it was never his fault to begin with) he’s sat by your bed, sulking. From the police report, it’s clear that it was AT LEAST linked to Shang Tsung, but that’s no longer his problem. He gets you anything from the cafeteria if you ask, and he brings you flowers every. damn. day. He’s got so many gifts coming your way, that when you get discharged, you’re practically smothered by all the gifts he got you as an ‘apology’. When you ask him what he means by an apology, he doesn’t say a single word. Johnny’s very on top of your medication, he’s soooo very delicate with you, he almost condemns you to bedrest. But with enough pushback, you’re able to be up and about; but that doesn’t mean he won’t be worrying over you for quite a while. Even if Liu Kang assures him that it won’t happen again.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is aware of the danger that surrounds him and his existence in general. He’s protective of you, of course. And he knows full well that you could be swept up into the mix of the Yakuza, and his work with Liu Kang and the OIA. But, you yourself had fought hard for the relationship and made it clear that you could care less about the potential dangers; even if he felt a little frazzled at all the dangers out there. All the hands that could be grabbing at you, the guns, the knives, the weapons that would be pointed at you the minute you were spotted next to him. You didn’t care.

Yet, when he gets the call that you were involved in some crime, landing you in the hospital, his mind omits all the other details. Aside from the hospital you’re at. He even skips over the fact that it was Jax calling him. Part of him wants to cry. And he probably would, if he could. But he tries to keep himself composed. Whatever he’s been occupied with is now a distant memory, other agents can take over. As calm as he looks on the outside, there’s a war raging within him. He knew this would happen. Ever since he felt feelings for you, he knew.

When he finds you at the hospital, Sento left behind, he’s scared. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he can’t see you, or if he should lament over it. While the doctors had described your injuries as non-fatal, and that you’d recover in no time, Kenshi’s mind has already spun a horrifying image, but once the doctors have left, he can hear your soft breathing underneath all the bustle of the machines. And it soothes him. Only then does he find some peace of mind, you are safe, and the danger has passed. Somewhat. When his worry starts to dissipate, he remembers that Jax had actually called him first, not the hospital. When he calls Jax back, the first thing he says is that he’s taking time off, and Jax doesn’t protest. They discuss what happened and that it is now a government matter, and something that expands past OIA boundaries. The short version of the conversation is that someone from a different timeline had managed to worm their way into this one, and harm you. Someone with striking similarity to himself.

Now that Kenshi has calmed down and knows you’re safe, he understands why the nurses and the law enforcement seemed tense around him. It unnerves him, to say the least. That another version of himself would hurt you. His heart, his guiding light. It’s also an entirely new threat that he hadn’t accounted for. Once discharged from the hospital, you have all of his attention. He’s oh so gentle with you, like any little touch and you’ll crack. He does every chore around the house for weeks, until you’ve fully healed. He cooks a lot (with the help of Sento), even bathes you (despite your protests). It’s his way of an apology for what happened, and not just that, but an apology for being with him. He holds immense regret over this, knowing that– even if it was another him from another timeline– he did this.

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao is… protective, alright. And that often gets swept up within his cockiness. Of course, you do feel pretty safe with him. Maybe not around the hat, but you do feel safe around him. Aside from his interesting choice of weapon, he’s a great martial artist. And also just someone who’s really nice to cuddle with. He’s a Shaolin Master, of course he’s going to be a horrifying opponent.

And, there would be hell to pay if anyone hurt his love. He isn’t just all bark. Even the thought of you being hurt has him seething, he tends to overthink. There’s a lot of things that have made him realize that he may be a high value target– even if he can’t help but think he’s done nothing to get to that point. But, under Liu Kang, and just the title ‘Defender of Earthrealm’, there’s some sort of pride that lingers. Something that makes him want to challenge anyone and everyone he can, tell them to ‘bring it on’.

But not at the expense of you. The one thing bigger than his ego? His heart. So, when you stride into Wu Shi Academy,– though, limp is the better term– all cut up and bruised, barely able to speak or see, there’s a rage that burns within Lao. One that even Raiden hasn’t seen. He can’t help but run his mouth about how he’ll teach whoever the hell got to you a lesson. But he’s also despondent, he barely touches his food, he barely shows up to Madame Bo’s… and that makes her worried, until she learns about what happened to you from Raiden. Now not only does the culprit have a bastard with a really sharp hat after them, but the most badass little old lady after them, too. Madame Bo loves you like one of her own, really. She dotes on you, where she’ll normally scold the boys. You are her golden child.

Ultimately, their shared hunt leads to a dead end. Your mind is too hazy to remember anything aside from a silhouette, before getting beaten senseless. As much as Lao seems hellbent on tracking the culprit down, he ultimately gives up when you ask him. But, as you recover, he seems to be in much better spirits. He likes to curl up next to you at night (despite the monks telling him not to), just to reassure him that you’re safe. And Madame Bo arguably puts on more of a show than Lao does. She treats you with free food every day of your recovery, and when you’ve got clearance to be walking around without supervision again, she’s made a FEAST for you. While it feels all sunshine and rainbows once you’ve recovered, Kung Lao works tirelessly to get better. He blames himself, mainly for the fact that no matter what he did, he couldn’t find the one who did this to you. Even if you tell him outright that it is okay. It’s another mark on his list of failures, to him.

⎯ Raiden

When he got the amulet, Raiden didn’t exactly have it down. It took a great deal of focus and strength to hone it, more than he’s known. Sure, there have been some points where it feels like he’s got it down, like he can actually control the lightning. But before the tournament, he had a hard time controlling it, and spent many days doing his best to hone this new power. It was exhausting, and took a toll on him, both physically and mentally. He might have been trained nearly his whole life in martial arts, but that doesn’t necessarily correlate to any sort of magic.

However, it is his connections that ground him. Kung Lao, yes. But you, mainly. Normally, his training sessions with the amulet consist of him trying not to fry Lao, while you sit by and encourage him. A positive environment encourages progress, right? That’s what Raiden thinks, anyway. And all things considered, he’s doing well today. The lightning had been easily tamed, Lao hadn’t been zapped, and all was well.

While training with a staff, however, one wrong move sends a strike horrifyingly close to you. You barely register what happened, the loud bang by your right is followed by a popping feeling, like you’ve been in high altitude, a sharp pain through your eardrum, and then a dull ringing in your right ear. Raiden comes running up to you near immediately, checking over you. Your mind spins at how fast things happened, so you can’t necessarily explain clearly to him what you felt. Before you can collect yourself, Raiden is suddenly set on high-alert, and hauling you away to the medics at Wu Shi. Even Lao is a little confused as he follows after the two of you.

At the medics, you’re able to piece everything together. Ruptured eardrum, and Raiden can’t help but blame himself for it. When you’re getting checked over, Raiden is pacing outside, and Lao is trying desperately to calm him down. It had been a fear of his since the very start of his training. But as time went on and you went unharmed… it started to slip into the back of his mind. He feels horrible for letting go of that worry, for letting it happen. And when the medics let you go and tell you that it’ll heal in a couple weeks, you do your best to comfort him next to Lao. When it’s just you two, however, Raiden is a lot more calm. The adrenaline of the moment got to him earlier. Still, all he feels he can do is apologize, as much as you assure him it’s fine. Over the next couple of weeks, he’s very, very mindful of himself. He’s practically banned you from his training sessions, he makes sure to approach you from your left side or make his presence known if he’s coming up from behind you.

⎯ Zeffeero

There’s not much Rain has to worry about in his day-to-day life, even with his status as High Mage. He knows his title holds weight, but he believes that if he spends all his time worrying, something will happen sooner or later, and he’ll be more of a mess if it comes true. He’s more worried about his actual duties, coming home to you (almost) every night, and what books he will read on his days off.

That being said, he isn’t able to spend all his time with you. Which is a bummer, really. His job isn’t necessarily ‘remote’. He doesn’t worry over you too much, he knows you’re strong enough to cover for yourself. And those who are against him and the royalty should be smarter and focus their attention towards him and Sindel. Keyword, should.

So, when Zeffeero is met by the couriers during his duties, he’s confused. The only words he can make out in their frantic speech is your name, and hostage. Which snaps him out of his normally calm demeanor. But, regardless, he does his best to stay collected. He gets the couriers to explain the situation clearly, that Sindel’s detractors had chosen you out of all people to make an example. The good news is that it was dealt with just as quickly as you had been taken away, criminals don’t really get their way so easily in Sun Do, especially.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t do a number on you. Rain immediately puts his work to the side and meets you at the infirmary. You’re pretty beat up, a couple bruises on your arms and a gash on your forehead, and the medics inform him that you’ll need to stay here for at least another week, you’ve gotten a couple of bruised ribs, as well. For the next couple of days, he is by your bedside, perfectly on time when the medics open up visiting hours. He’ll even do his work by your side, filling countless journals and going through way too many reports as he does.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Stealth missions require the utmost focus, especially ones of this caliber. Tomas is confident in your ability, so he doesn’t worry unnecessarily over you. But his mind can tend to wander sometimes. Still, he does his best to remain on track, stalking through the rampart. It was a simple recon mission, keep an eye on the territory. It had been left abandoned after the events of Armageddon, but there had been indications that Bi-Han was looking to start something there again. Considering the cyberization of the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang and Tomas agreed to simply check it out, make sure nothing was being done.

And they were right to be suspicious. Either out of paranoia, or a hunch, Bi-Han had sent scouts as well. This makes the operation a lot more high-risk, both parties may be aware of each other, but have no idea where the other is. It looks as if there’s a rather hefty amount of spies in the rampart as well. As Tomas stalks through the tops of the wall, searching for anything slightly out of place, he gets the sudden feeling that he’s being watched.

Just as he raises his head, he hears the thwip of a bow string, causing him to jerk away from his position. An arrow flies past his head, a few centimeters from it, and as he follows it’s trajectory, he sees you, across the rampart. Fighting with two ninjas, doing your best to, well, stay alive. Realizing that you two are horribly outnumbered, he completely ignores the archer behind him. Utilizing his practical magic, he wastes no time disappearing and taking off. It’s not as easy as it sounds, practically throwing himself off the wall and doing what he can to make it across the rampart. As adrenaline rushes through him, his actions are near mindless, reckless, jumping over stray ballistas and rubble. Does he know that this could put his life at risk? That it puts the mission at risk? Yes. But there’s a tiny voice inside of him that screams at him, tells him you are much more important than the mission. He got the intel anyways.

Things blur together for Tomas after that. He can’t remember exactly how he reached you, he can’t remember what he did with the two ninjas, the only thing that brings him back to the present moment is the pained breaths of yours and heaved gasps. He’d been singing some lullaby that he couldn’t remember the name of, his voice cracking here and there. His throat is raw, blood pouring from a head wound, and he can’t tell if the blood coating his arms is from you, who lay motionless (but thankfully breathing) in his arms, the ninjas, or his own. He’s barely noticed that he’s made his way to Harumi’s house. Not to Kuai Liang– to Harumi. Which, eventually, the knowledge that you’ve been hurt and that the Lin Kuei are pushing to claim territory over the Rampart. When Harumi guides the two of you to a room while she calls for the medics, all Tomas can do is blame himself. He’s spaced out the entire time, the only thing that snaps him out of his catatonic state is when they try to separate the two of you. He doesn’t let them. He doesn’t let anyone separate you from him. He’s too scared that he will lose you.

⎯ Baraka

While the restrictions on those inflicted with Tarkat have been lifted slightly, there is still some public animosity towards Tarkattens. And some of those people tend to direct their anger at those who support this decision, or those close to those afflicted with Tarkat. And unfortunately, you just so happen to be one of those people.

You aren’t entirely vocal about your relationship with Baraka, but you aren’t entirely quiet about it, either. The only reason Baraka doesn’t talk about you two is because he is afraid of what could happen to you. It doesn’t matter if the public’s opinion will turn, if there will ever be a cure, he has always been distant. He loves you, and good god, he’d do anything to even hold your hand. But he is afraid. He can’t help but be afraid of what will happen to you.

And rightfully so, when you are visiting Sun Do with Baraka. It’s a routine visit, to talk about how to integrate precautions for those with Tarkat, and how the vaccine progress is coming along. It feels like hours in a stuffy room, talking with Mileena. Eventually, you step out for a moment, to get some fresh air, and to clear your head. Unfortunately, one of the people against the aid for Tarkattens takes this as an opportunity to attack you in broad daylight.

Luckily, you don’t have to suffer much. A couple of kicks and hits that have left a couple of bruises, but the Constabulary was able to pull them off you quickly. The commotion brings Mileena and Baraka out, which leaves you feeling a little flustered. Needless to say, the talks for that day are cut short, and Baraka spends his time worrying about you. He asks you to stay in Sun Do for a while, that he can handle the talks himself now.

⎯ Syzoth

Syzoth’s biggest fear is Shang Tsung. Even after all is said and done, the fear still lingers. With his past, he can’t help but worry, especially about you. He wants to imagine a future with you, and he’s more than content with the days you two spend together, but he will never be able to shake the idea of his happiness being ripped from him again. While he is still all cuddly with you, there is something always gnawing at him. An eternal dread.

And his fears come true, in some way. He had to leave home for a couple of days, out on official business. It was nothing major, nothing that would pull him from you for longer than a week. Integrating yourself along with Zatterans was a challenge alright, something you didn’t mind facing. Syzoth had said it was a good way to get them used to humans, to earthrealmers.

However, when he comes back home, he is greeted by you, with a black eye, and multiple, bandaged, gashes down your arms. You smile at him warmly, despite your injuries, which have had at least two days to heal. He’s stunned, and after a moment of silence, he’s all over you, asking question after question. Despite what he asks, he knows what the Zatterans have done to you.

He tells himself he should’ve known, as they had killed those with his mutation, he should’ve known that they would’ve treated you the same. You can’t give him exact details, you can’t even give him a description. It happened all too fast, and you were helpless in the moment. He spends the next week by your side, never leaving, unless it was for food, or necessities. When you two are out, he’s very diligent about his surroundings, and those around them. Most of the Zaterrans express their apologies to you, even if it wasn’t them, which makes Syzoth even more wary about who he should be keeping an eye on.

⎯ Havik

Danger comes with the territory of dating Havik. Yeah, he keeps you close, but he’s wanted. And he’s well aware, he tends to get himself in fights quite often. If you wanna participate? Hells yeah, he’s all in. But if you’d rather sit back, hide away, anything like that, he doesn’t mind. Even if he prefers a more active partner on the battlefield. Just because he’s got his anarchic ways and enjoys a little bloodbath every now and then, doesn’t mean he’s thrown care and (at least) sympathy into the wind. Granted, it’s hard to coax that reaction out of him.

But, it’s different with you. His heart; quite literally. He’d do anything for you, he’s (almost) as obedient as a dog. But when he gets to watch you in kombat… it’s a treat. He’s like actually drooling. He’s got a twisted sort of smile on his face when you slash through enemies. Sometimes just the thought of it makes him blush. He’s a little fucked up, actually! But for a being who thrives on chaos, that’s the norm.

When it comes to you being injured, if it’s just a little nick, (which is categorized very loosely; can be deep cuts, slashes, not just a scrape) he doesn’t find any reason to retaliate against your assailant. Havik is proud to have a lover that can take care of things themselves, but that doesn’t mean he won’t leap at the chance to tear someone limb from limb. Especially if you’re wounded near fatally. That’s when any semblance of humanity leaves him. He’s brutal, horribly so, and for once, you have to turn your head away.

When the fight’s done, Havik returns to you, covered in blood and viscera. He made it quick, as much as he would’ve enjoyed making it slow and painful, he knows that time is of the essence. Given his situation, he can’t really take you anywhere. So a little impromptu ‘healing’ session is underway. Some alcohol (that’s 100% not stolen) and some pressure to make sure the bleeding stops and that you don’t get an infection. After, he’s got to stitch up the wound. As he does so, he’s murmuring praises,– a rare thing from him, really– doing his best to make this as painless as possible.

⎯ General Shao

There is no greater place than the battlefield to Shao. It is something he grew up on, and to be fighting side by side with his beloved, it fills him with pride. Of course, he knows the dangers, he knows there’s a target on his back, but he could care less. He almost revels in it. Yes, he’ll worry about you, but he also knows that you can handle yourself.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t above teaching those who choose to hurt you a lesson. He’s sensible, he’s strong, and he’s just a little, teensy weensy bit protective of you. Of course, you can handle fights on your own. But it’s when the enemies got you in a tough spot, managed to daze you, anything like that. That’s when Shao lets hell break loose.

A sword pierces through your arm, and while it’s not fatal, the minute Shao sees it, he’s raging. A bloody warpath follows him as he marches towards the assailant, the opponent he had been fighting long forgotten. He can’t gloss over an injury like that, he is unsure if they had cut through the brachial artery. So he makes it quick, practically splitting them in two as you watch. The battle continues to rage on, but all Shao can do is huff and encourage you to make an escape,– mainly because he’s afraid you might bleed to death– even if you don’t want to.

At the end of it all, you oblige, retreating and making it to the field medics. You are glad to hear that they did not cut through your brachial artery, and that you won’t bleed to death. But the gash in your arm still needs treatment. You’re stuck in that tent for quite a bit, mourning the loss of a good fight. That is, until Shao interrupts. He’s barely pulled back the tarp of the entrance, and he’s already looking for you. And when he spots you, lying down with a defeated look, bored as hell, he’s at your side within an instant. He needs to know the damage, if it’ll take you out of combat, etc etc. He quietly worries over you, which is quite charming in its own way.

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung is no pushover. He may be despised, he may have been outcast, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stand there and take it. Especially when it comes to you. He’s a bit of a drama queen, sure, but he’s charming. Even after everything, it seems like people won’t forgive him. They aren’t wrong to leave him unforgiven, either.

But, their anger should be pointed towards him. So when he receives a letter for ransom via courier, he’s rightfully pissed. How dare they take his sunshine away from him, all because of what he’s done. What he’s done. And to try and rip him off, as well. You aren’t worth a mere 50,000 koins! You’re worth at least 5mil! Needless to say, he’s fuming.

What’s he going to do? Ask the Constabulary to help? No! He’s more than capable of handling it himself. A little dirt on his hands never hurt anybody. Time is short, so he rushes over the details. A couple sleepless nights spent scouting, collecting any sort of information, and he’s off to a shabby little shack in the wastes. The audacity of these people to not only take you from him, demand 50k koins, but also keep you in some run-down place! As much as he’s nitpicking what they’ve done to you, he’s doing it to calm himself down. Yeah, he’s got this in the bag, but any one taking his love from him, especially with malicious intent, makes him scarier than his most evil counterparts.

It is there where Shang Tsung finds out the kidnappers haven’t necessarily… prepared. Only two captors, and they’re dealt with easily. Torn into like meat, left to rot. He disregards their state, food for the vultures and whichever desperate soul wanders past. You’re a mess, head down, mind hazy, legs weak. He treats you like a knight saving his darling, picking you up bridal style. He coos at you, whispering things like ‘you’re alright’, and ‘I’m here now’ as he takes you away.

⎯ Reiko

It’s a calm evening, paired with a little sparring. As Reiko watches you train an over-ambitious rookie, he seems lost in thought. Why? It’s unsure. It feels like he’s simply lost his grip lately, he feels that he hasn’t been doing well in combat, and has actually regressed with his progress. Seeing you humble the soldier over and over again somehow reminds him of this, telling himself he needs to catch up on his training, build on his weaknesses.

It’s a subtle snap that brings him back to reality. It seems the trainee had enough of your teaching, and didn’t quite enjoy the lessons you were drilling– punching– into them. They’ve managed to pin you down, thanks to a very direct, very heated punch to the face. They’ve got you in a headlock, spouting nonsense at you like you’ve greatly offended them. You groan, so close to yelling out uncle. But, you’ve gotta admit, you like their fire. Even if it severely clouds their judgment.

Reiko is quick to pull them off of you, grabbing them by the nape as if they were a dog. It’s a little bit of a struggle, mainly the trainee squirming and protesting like a child who’s been denied candy. It’s shameful for him, but the very thought of the runt taking advantage of the moment to hurt you makes him believe they are unbefitting of a soldier. And it makes him a little pissed. He’s lecturing them, doing his best to hold back some very choice words. All the while you’re nursing your possibly broken nose, trying to get Reiko to let up on them. Eventually, you just shoo them away, and then give Reiko his own lecture. They’re your student, so they’ll get your discipline.

He’s not the best at consoling you, especially over something that he’s deemed ‘minor’. A quick ‘are you okay?’ and a nod is all he really gives you. But, after you’ve ended the training session early, and confirmed that your nose isn’t broken, Reiko picks up the opportunity to hone in his skills. Given the fact that you still had time left in your schedule, you take up his offer.

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

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mellifiedprincess · 9 months ago

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REALLY SHORT BUT SAPPY SHIT! and boob talk for like 2 seconds.

Opening the door to the house you share with the boys, you immediately take notice of the lack of noise that usually takes place.

You can’t say you’re not a little bit grateful, especially after working a 12 hour shift as a peds nurse. It was not a good day to say the least. All you wanted in that very moment was a hot shower and to be wrapped up in the arms of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend.

Closing the door to the garage, you walk over to Chris’s door and softly knock waiting to hear a response. “Yeah?” You peek your head in and see the boy at his desk, headset on and eyes focused on the monitor in front of him. “Oh, hey Y/N/N- Yeah, she just walked in.” Chris replies to you and then who you assume to be Matt through the headset. “Hey Chrissy, just checking in before I head upstairs. You okay?” This was part of your nightly routine. You couldn’t really remember when it started, but you always had to check on Chris and Nick before going to bed. Otherwise you couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah, I’m good. Matt’s yelling in my ear right now asking for you to hurry up. Kids acting like you just got back from war.” You let out a soft laugh at his remark. “I need to check on Nick, then I’ll be in there.” “Oh Nicks gone. He went to hang out with Larray and Arrington.”

“Alright. Well, try to get some sleep. You guys have that really important meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Oh shit! I totally forgot about that. Thanks.” You nod your head and you both say goodnight, before you turn and finally make your way to your bedroom.

When you open the door, your eyes find Matt’s already staring at you. He looks so…soft. Soft and warm and inviting. “Finally!” He huffs out. You can’t help but laugh at him as you walk over to where he sits at his desk. “I missed you so much today.” His voice is muffled by his face being smushed into your stomach, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if you were gonna leave him.

“I missed you too angel.” Your fingers push his hair away from his forehead, and you lean down to place a gentle kiss to his hairline. “I do need to shower though, and then I’m all yours.” A very audible whine leaves his mouth and he pulls you down into his lap, and immediately shoves his face into your neck.

“Can’t you shower in the morning? I wanna keep holding you.”

You’re convinced your heart just melted in your chest from how sweet your boyfriend is. “How about you come sit in the bathroom while I shower? You can tell me about your day.”

“Okay!” He jumps up at that and your eyes widen at the sudden movement. “Jeez Matty, warn me next time.”

“I’m just really excited to see your boobs.” That comment earns him a slap against his chest and an eye roll.

“You act like you don’t see them whenever you want, kid.” “I could have 24/7 visual of those things and it still wouldn’t be enough. Same thing with that pretty face of yours.”

You would never understand how he could be so sweet, yet disgusting at the same time.

You make it to the bathroom, and Matt places you back down on the floor before walking over to the shower to start the water for you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He places a quick kiss to your lips and exits the bathroom.

When he returns, he’s holding a pair of fresh love sweatpants, clean underwear, and an old t-shirt of his that you stole and claimed as yours a long time ago. “Ughh I love you!” You can’t help but exclaim before pulling him closer to plant another quick kiss to his lips. “I love you way more though. No argument there.”

And Matt really believed that.

The love he felt for you was soul consuming. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“That’s not fair. I love you just as much as you love me! You’re the sun in my freaking sky Matthew.” You pout. Pout. And Matt can’t help but gush at how fucking cute you are.

He looks down at you, your arms wrapped around his waist, and he swears to himself that he would be the sun in your sky for the rest of your lives. And he knew what you meant by that, but being the sun in someone’s sky is nothing compared to being someone’s moon.

And you were his moon. Full of love and hope. The most nurturing person he knew, always taking care of others before yourself, especially him and his brothers. And you were always so calm, which helped a lot when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you in the shower so we can go to bed. I know you’re probably exhausted.” He softly pats your hip, and moves so you can get undressed and finally shower.

Later that night when you finally retreat to bed, your head lies on Matt’s chest, sleep calling your name so softly you can barely keep your eyes open. Matt just watches you. He watches as your chest slowly rises and falls, and your breathing slows. He watches as you curl into his side even more. But he knew you weren’t quite asleep yet, because this man knew every minor detail about you.

So, when you reach for his hand and bring it to your lips before squeezing it against your chest, where it would stay for the rest of the night, he knew you were finally asleep.

#sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader

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justevelynnnn · 1 month ago

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I’ll always love you.

Pairing: Logan howlett x reader

Summary: Logan has a nightmare and hurts you in his sleep. This is a short story of that and the aftermath.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of blood, Logan stabbed you in your sleep, Profanity, Cigar smoking, mention of the scene where wolverine gets his adamantium skeleton. (Written with fem!reader in mind but no she/her pronouns are used or feminine features are mentioned)

A/N: this started off as a drabble but tbh it got a bit longer than i expected so 😭 but anyway, i love this plot so of coursee, my turn!

He was in the tank again.

It was the same nightmare every other week. Or, one of them. But this was the worst one of them all.

Suffocating. Confused. Scared?

He felt it all again.

He could never, ever describe what metal covering your skeleton feels like but it’s a horrible, disgusting feeling.

As he rose and roared angrily from the water, tubes fell out his body. He gets hit with a bullet to the head and he fiercely turns to the source, growling animalistically. There are more gun shots as he jumped out, screaming. Oh, and of course…Fucking Stryker.

Stryker. Stryker. Stryker.

Of course, the nightmare version of this event is more intense feeling. His heart was racing. His mind. His feet. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins. Everything is on fire.

Then suddenly, he’s in a dark room.

Still yelling and thrashing, he doesn’t stop until he comes to finally seconds later. Oh, it was a nightmare. Not real. Though, the screams still echo in his head.

And then he hears a soft, “Logan….”

He looks down.

You’re laying there, under him. There are tears in your eyes as you held his…wrists with..his claws…in…your….sides..

His heart drops. Blood runs cold. He feels like he’s gonna be sick.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck-

He mouths, “No…no no no…”

“Logan, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re…” A pained groan from you interrupted yourself. “…okay. I’m here.”

He frantically pulls his claws out and sits there, looking at you in pure horror. Heart pounding still as guilt washed over him. Consuming his entire soul.

Luckily, for the both of you, you also had a healing factor..just not as good as his…it took twice as long for you to heal.

But you were prepared for this moment anyways. You knew one day…he’d wake up like this. That you’d wake up like this. You practiced what you would say and do. Remain calm and ground him. Remind him he’s okay and that you two are far from any enemies.

Logan looked at the blood covering his hands once he unsheathed his claws. Looked at you once more and then back at his own hands.

“I’m already healing, Logan. It’s gonna be okay. It was an accident.” You sit up in bed, even though it was horribly painful still, and rub his shoulders trying to relax him.

“..i…i..hurt you.” He softly said looking into your eyes.

“It was an accident.”

“I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to, Lo.”

He bit his lip, holding back a sob. Still, a tear escaped his eye.

You hugged him solfty, not minding the sweat covering his skin and clothes, and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry…i’m sorry baby i-“

You hear him finally break down a bit as his voice hitched. You rub his back more telling him it’s okay. You’re okay.

“I know, you’d never do it on purpose Logan…i forgive you. Look, I’m already halfway healed…it won’t even scar..” You pull back and gently held his face and kiss his forehead.

He sighed.

“Wanna stay up with me? Wash the sheets and sit outside a bit?” You smiled.

He nods. “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t respond as you get out of bed, pain on your sides quickly fading. You pull him with you and you both start pulling off the blood soaked sheets quietly.

Once everything is in the washer you sit with him on the couch in the dark, cuddled next to him as he smoked a cigar to calm his nerves.

“That was my worst nightmare.” He said softly as he took a long drag.

“I know..but i know you didnt mean too. You’ve been through a lot it was bound to happen at some point… and plus, i’m better now..”

“I…I dunno why you put up with me.”

“Because I love you. ‘Cause i know deep down you have a good soul.”

He huffed at this and smiled as he said, “Love, huh?”

“Yes, love. All of it. Your scars, your personality, just…you.”

Silence filled the room once more. He put the cigar out and laid it on the table then looked away.

“I’m just..scared. Of losing you. Are you sure? About us? This? I don’t want to hurt you anymore…i-“

“Logan, look at me.”

He turned to face you. Face unreadable as usual but you knew he felt worry.

“I’ll never leave you. And i’m so sure about us. 100%. You don’t have to be scared of anything considering that anymore. Okay? I’ll always love you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but then he closed the distance. Hugging you tightly. A soft thank you came from him moments later.

That night you two fell asleep on the couch in each others arms.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett angst #wolverine angst #wolverine #nightmare angst #poor baby #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst then fluff #sour then sweet #sour patch kids #okay bye #justevelynnnn

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 10 months ago

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𝙊𝙭𝙮𝙜𝙚𝙣

Pairing: Dom Kim Hongjoong x sub!fem reader

Content Includes: smut, breathplay, love-making, it's soft but intense, kissing, clit play, unprotected sex, needy and clingy Hongjoong, praise, possessiveness, angsty, reader is referred to as 'my angel', fluff, aftercare

Word Count: 820

This should be enough for Hongjoong.

He knows it should be.

It’s been months, a year even.

He knows he should be fucking over this stage.

But spending time with you, gazing into your beautiful eyes, hearing your angelic voice and giggles, feeling the heat of you on his skin.

Feeling how warm, tight and wet you were, seeing how fucked out you were underneath him.

Seeing the love you had for him in your eyes and your heart stripped bare for him to have…

For him to LOVE…

For him to KEEP and CARE FOR…

It wasn’t enough.

‘Kiss me angel, open your mouth for me, just like that…good girl’

Hongjoong’s hand was gentle and firm on your chin as he nudged your mouth open, his thrusts had stalled to a stand-still and his pupils were blown-out and his stare was HUNGRY for you.

The veins in his neck and arms were glimmering from the sweat across his torso and chest, making the tattoos on his skin pulse and look alive from the exertion.

His dark hair was ruffled and framing his face, cheeks red and skin glowing with lust, his lips swollen and kiss-bruised, voice gravelly and cock swollen and hard inside of you.

Hongjoong looked wrecked, dishevelled and downright predatory in the best fucking way possible, hungry and unhinged, consumed by your presence and body.

His mouth was on yours as he rutted against you, the tip of his cock slightly pressing against your g-spot and causing you to whimper and moan against him.

His warm tongue feeding its way into your mouth, licking over your palate, scraping against your teeth, dominating your mouth, owning every crevice.

‘My angel’ He breathed into your mouth, his lips grazing against yours as his hand sensually ran up your chest and rested with his fingers clasped loosely around your neck, it wasn’t rough but you can feel the pads of his fingers against your throat.

‘Breathe out’

Hongjoong’s fingers grasped tighter around your neck and his hips snapped tighter against yours, the pressure of his fingers was causing his face to blur slightly, the coil in your stomach to rapidly tighten and your eyes to flutter shut in a downright feeling of euphoria.

A staggered exhale left your lips which Hongjoong swallowed with a kiss, his free hand clenched tightly in your hair and a moan rumbled through his chest.

‘Beautiful, so beautiful…now you need to breathe me in too’

He removed his hand from your hair and reached up to remove one that was draped around his shoulders, kissing the pads of your knuckles as he stared at you with intention before wrapping your hand around his neck.

‘Now squeeze’

Hongjoong’s hand covered yours and he controlled the pressure as his eyes became dilated and his bottom lip pouted even further, his thrusts faltering.

He removed his hand and you immediately lifted your head up to kiss him, moving your hand to the base of his neck as your breath caught his.

‘My angel, my treasure’ Hongjoong moaned out as he grabbed the headboard with his free hand, the act of consuming your soul almost brought out a frenzy in him, his head hovering over yours as he pounds into you, the force shaking you from the inside out.

‘You’re under my skin, you’re in my heart, I’m drowning in you and I don’t want it to ever fucking STOP’

Hongjoong’s voice sounded almost pained through his confession, as if those words were scraping to venture from the very confines of his soul.

You were rapidly reaching your release and frantically trailing a hand down to draw circles on your clit, though an orgasm was the least of your priorities.

The feeling of love and care was never as potent with Hongjoong as it is when he’s making love to you.

When the mask is thrown away and his barriers are down, when you feel his devotion flowing through his tongue and fingers, the way he worships your body and soul like it was his sole purpose in life.

You really were his treasure and he was yours too.

‘You’re my treasure too Hongjoong…I love yo-’

Your words were cut off by your impending orgasm crashing around you, your head lolled back as your body quivered under Hongjoong’s touch and your vision went white.

A few thrusts and Hongjoong came inside of you with a whimper, his brow furrowed and lip bitten, his head collapsing into the crook of your neck as you wrapped around each other loosely in a state of post-coital bliss.

A few moments passed of comfortable silence, your fingers gently ruffling Hongjoong’s sweaty hair as his head was on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, feeling you breathe against him- your breath now filled with a part of his soul.

‘We’re bound together angel, now, forever and in the next life’.

I just realised it's been months since I've written Hongjoong and this fic can be included in my 'sugar!daddy' Hongjoong universe.

Enjoy!

Taglist: @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @stardragongalaxy @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @shroomoth @marykpoppin @ja3hwa @leomggg

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neteyamsilly · 2 years ago

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again.

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?”

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you.

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree.

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating.

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child.

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness.

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing.

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered.

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through.

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know.

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining.

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat.

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened.

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way.

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him.

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay.

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive.

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said.

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.”

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?”

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.”

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. ��It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?”

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout.

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.”

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right.

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later —

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other.

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes.

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied.

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was.

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration.

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know.

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you?

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it?

If he failed, this would be it.

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.”

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment.

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.”

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.”

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.”

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.”

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.”

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You?

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.”

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent?

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented.

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs.

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt.

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up.

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair.

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.”

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.”

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble.

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him.

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.”

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.”

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.”

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact.

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.”

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.”

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.”

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.”

“Oh you little shit—”

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.”

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. .

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree.

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting.

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from.

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance.

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again.

Once again.

You will only have one chance.

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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rivatar · 8 months ago

Text

His Stress Relief

MDNI!🔞 based off this request!

Pairing: Aged!Up!Neteyam x fem!human!reader

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings/content: SMUT, Dub-con, p in v, cream pie, dom Neteyam, sub reader, dirty talk, cussing

A/n: I hope the anon who requested this enjoys, I didn’t know how you wanted it to go so I hope it’s okay and you like it!😩 And I hope the rest of you lovelies can enjoy too. Keep sending me requests & I love you all 💖

“Don’t go too far out, y/n!” Max shouted as you were already out the door.

It had been a stressful day for you in the lab. You had arrived on Pandora not even a full month ago. Everything was new to you, including a lot of the science they had here. You had just gotten your PhD not long before leaving for this mission and it was all you dreamed of was to work here, but now that you’re here, you found that the work was quite challenging and you didn’t like feeling stupid or behind everyone else.

After getting yelled at by another coworker for doing something wrong again, you decided you needed a break to calm your mind. You told Max you were going to take a walk right outside the facility, it wasn’t really a question for him but more so telling him where you’d be. He was a bit concerned for you as you were still new here but he knew he couldn’t stop you, nor had the time to babysit you.

The door slammed behind you. You spotted a slightly beaten path that led into the forest and decided to walk along it so that you could find your way back later on. You weren’t planning to go far of course but your racing thoughts occupied you so much it had you completely distracted.

Unbeknownst to you, a particular Na’vi had already spotted you and was following you quietly while staying tucked behind the various trees and plants of the forest.

Neteyam was out clearing his mind as well, he was also stressed like you, but his stress was due to his endless duties preparing to be Olo’eyktan soon. He noticed you and instantly became intrigued with you and decided to follow you and see what you were up to. It was something to take his mind off of his responsibilities for once.

You noticed a particularly amazing plant and crouched down to it, smiling gently. Next thing you knew a huge arm wrapped around your front and brought you back into them, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled in terror. You looked down and realized the arm was blue and your soul almost left your body.

“Hi, tawtute,” the creature bent down to speak in your ear.

“Please let me go!! I’m sorry for being out here! Please I’ll go back!” You pleaded and played nice while struggling against his steady hold.

“Nah. I think I’d rather keep you,” he spoke lowly and unbothered.

Fear rushed through your body like a flaming hot fire and consumed all your senses. You wanted to cry at your predicament but you had to keep your wits about you if you were gonna make it out alive.

“P-please! I’ll do anything just please let me go, I won’t tell a soul!” You pleaded some more.

He chuckled and was amused with you. “Anything?”

Confusion etched across your face. “What?”

“You said you’d do anything”

He sounded… suggestive. Or were you just going insane??

“…yeah?”

“I think I’ve got something in mind for your payment. And a way to relieve my stress”

To say your heart was beating out of your chest was an understatement.

“What do you want from me?” You cried.

“You’re not stupid, girl. You know what I want” he spoke sensually as he ran his other hand down the front of your body to cup your pussy. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

He pressed his hard bulge against your butt. “You understand now?”

You weakly nodded, fear still evident in your eyes but you were not wanting to upset him in any way by disagreeing.

Without anymore time to process this, he yanked your pants down and pushed your back forward, making you abruptly fall to your knees with your ass in the air.

You were flushed and felt exposed and vulnerable but before you could think about those feelings anymore, he suddenly ran his tongue up through your slit. You gasped at the pleasure.

“Mmm I love how your little human pussy tastes,” he groaned “much sweeter than the omatikaya girls”

He continued lapping up your juices like a starved man and you had no choice but to take it. It felt extremely good though, your hole clenched, wanting and needing attention too.

“Fucking slut. You act like you don’t want this too but your body says otherwise,” he said while prodding his thumb around your entrance. You tried to push yourself back to get the penetration you craved.

He laughed at your pathetic action. “Awww the little human needs some action? You should be thanking me” he spanked your ass hard.

You whimpered out loud and knew you were indeed being pathetic. But dammit, you were stressed and pent up too.

“Pleaseeee” you begged him shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled mockingly.

You backed up more, wordlessly begging him to stop torturing you. So he granted your request and plunged an entire finger in, already brushing your cervix with his long digits.

“Mmm!! More!” You moaned for him.

He groaned at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So warm and tight… fuck” he purred.

He then plunged another digit in, marveling at how you stretched for him. He roughly sped up, deciding he wanted to watch your pussy cum on his hand.

“Cum for me” he urged you while his other hand groped your ass.

You were whimpering and moaning on the ground, feeling the pleasure wash through your body as your incoming orgasm threatened to burst.

“Can feel you squeezing. Let it go, tawtute”

And just like that, as if his sultry tone and words were all you needed to reach your peak, you came all over his working fingers with your eyes rolling back in your head. It had to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Mmm, good job sevin” he praised your shaking form, still recovering from the after shocks.

He rolled your limp body over to where you could finally see his face. He was so handsome. Your fucked out face scanned over his toned, muscular body. Every curve and edge of him was perfectly carved by Eywa herself. His body was amazing but you couldn’t believe how stunning his face was. His bright yellow eyes held so much emotion and passion in them and you held his gaze, unable to look away.

He took this opportunity to untie his loincloth rather slowly. The skimpy item of clothing fell down to the ground and just when you thought he couldn’t get anymore visually stunning, he did. His cock was huge to you but fit his body proportions perfectly. It stood up loud and proud, the tip glistening with his shimmery precum.

“I take it you like it, huh?” He asked teasingly but also meant it.

You snapped your eyes back up to him and nodded slowly. Your brain was telling you to be scared but the rest of your body was screaming at you to indulge and enjoy.

He bent back down to your recovering body. His hands reached the bottom of your shirt and tugged up on it. To your own surprise, you submitted and lifted your arms to let him take off your shirt. You did the rest by then unclipping your bra.

He leaned back on his heels and his chest quickly rose and fell at the sight of you being completely naked. His face didn’t change though, he seemed to be trained to show no emotion, though his breath quickening and precum gathering at his tip gave away his arousal to you.

He got closer to you and leaned in for a brutal kiss. His large mouth completely engulfed yours and you tried to keep up with him.

He pulled back to look into your eyes and said, “I’m gonna fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be coming back and begging for more after this”

He left you no time to object this and continued the kiss. Although at this point you were sure you wouldn’t argue with him. Your body was aching for attention and relief.

He effortlessly picked you up and set your back against the grass. “Spread open for me,” he tapped your thigh.

You did as you were told and gave him complete access. He couldn’t wait to feel your tight, wet pussy around him.

He held his dick and coated it in your juices, before angling to start pushing in.

“You are soaked, little human” he said admiringly.

You were also amazed at how aroused you were, you had to admit it had been a while but also none of your previous experiences have been this erotic. Nonetheless you blushed at him stating the obvious about your neediness.

He sunk deeper and deeper, you were both making little noises of discomfort and pleasure at the tight stretch.

“Never had a Na’vi cock huh? You’re in for a treat” he smiled a bit menacingly.

You chuckled nervously, still focusing on breathing and getting through the extreme stretch.

He bottomed out and you moaned as he brushed your cervix. “Is that the spot?”

“Mhmm” you whined.

“I know, I know. Hold on tight, my little tawtute slut”

He removed himself all the way out and slammed back in, his huge balls slapping your skin.

“Fuck” he grunted.

He continued his assault on your cunt, ruthlessly pounding into you like a feral animal, giving you no time to adjust fully.

His mouth was open and relaxed in an ‘o’ as he watched your pretty face screw up in pleasure, both of you taking in the feeling.

You held onto his bulky arms that were settled on either side of you as he hovered over you.

You eyes started welling up with tears from the overwhelming sensation. You were being stuffed to your fullest capacity.

He then bent down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, while his other hand pulled your other one. You screamed and arched your back off the ground.

“I can’t! It’s too much!!” You squealed and he only let up so he could speak to you.

“Thought you were begging for more earlier? You’ve gotta take it now, cmon just take it like the good slut I know you are”

He then started rubbing your clit, edging you on more. “You gonna cum again? Well I’m gonna cum deep in your pussy, I got a lot and it’ll be leaking out of you for days”

He sped up his thrusts. “Maybe when it leaks out of you, it can remind you of me and you can use it to touch yourself”

His lewd words made your coil snap yet again, and your pussy convulsed around his length.

“Good lil cockslut. Take my cum now” he grunted as his thrusts got irregular and his body locked up. His cum shot deep into you and you felt it get crowded in there with his dick still inside too.

He was panting and sweating above you, his eyes half lidded and looking delirious and spent.

You both suddenly heard a distant cry, like a Na’vi calling out as communication.

His ears went up and he pulled out quickly, both of you hissing at the loss. He scrambled to tie his loincloth back on. He leaned down to your face after you sat up.

“Next time you need some na’vi cock again, come to this spot and I will answer your calling” he winked and ran off with his bow in hand, leaving you naked and vulnerable. But… also satisfied.

Taglist: @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @teyamshuman @nonamevenus

#avatar smut #atwow #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #neteyam #james cameron avatar #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x f!reader #neteyam x you

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itsgreti · 6 months ago

Text

DRUNK CONFESSIONS

pairing. james beaufort x f!reader

summary. (Y/N) and james have been best friends since childhood, but a drunken confession at a party reveals (Y/N)'s hidden feelings for him.

warning. alcohol consumption

word count. 1k

a/n: english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me!

(Y/N) and James Beaufort had been inseparable since they were children, growing up side by side. Lydia, James's energetic sister, was the third musketeer in their trio. They were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the halls of the Beaufort estate daily. Their families, long-time friends with a history that stretched back generations, only strengthened their bond, gathering together for holiday celebrations, or Sunday picnics.

As they grew older, (Y/N)'s feelings for James deepened. She found herself captivated by his character and stared longer at him than she should have. However, she didn’t dare to tell it aloud, fearing it could affect their friendship. And so, she buried her feelings deep within her heart.

One evening, one of their friends throws a party after the exam period, inviting the whole of Maxton Hall. (Y/N) decided to release the stress and she soon found herself consumed by a heavy amount of alcohol, blurring the edges of her consciousness. Darting from one group to another, she lost track of time as she danced and mingled with the crowd, her laughter ringing out in joy.

Throughout the evening, James kept a watchful eye on (Y/N), his protective instincts kicking in as he noticed her growing intoxicated state. He made sure to stay close, subtly guiding her away from the masses and ensuring she always had a glass of water nearby. Now and then, he would catch her eye from across the room, offering her a reassuring smile.

But James soon realised her dizziness coming too far and gently supported (Y/N) as she swayed slightly on her feet.

"Whoa there," he chuckled softly, steadying her with a firm grip on her arm. "I think you've had enough for today."

(Y/N) giggled, the sound tinged with a hint of mischief as she leaned against him for support. "Nonsense," she protested playfully. "I could drink a whole barrel and still be standing!"

James chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "I highly doubt that," he teased, he guided her gently to the waiting car with Percy, the Beaufort twins' loyal chauffeur, at the wheel. "Let's get you home before you decide to put that theory to the test."

Holding (Y/N)'s dozy form in his arms, James whispered comforting words of reassurance as Percy navigated the winding roads home.

Once inside the (Y/L/N) residence, James led (Y/N) through the grand hallway, her steps uncertain with each stumble. With tender care, he guided her to the comfort of her room, his heart heavy with unspoken words.

But as he turned to leave, (Y/N)'s voice pierced the silence, her words slurred by the haze of drunkenness. "James," she whispered, her eyes clouded with tears. "I... I have something to tell you."

James froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned to face her, his gaze locking with hers in a moment of raw vulnerability.

"What is it, (Y/N)? Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Tears spilt from (Y/N)'s eyes as she stumbled over her words, her confession tumbling out in a murmur of drunken desperation. "I... I have feelings for you, James," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've been feeling this way for a while now..."

James's heart clenched with a mixture of longing and regret. James's feelings for (Y/N) were a symphony of emotions, admiration, and a love that had quietly taken root in the depths of his soul, just like she did. From the earliest days of their friendship, he found himself drawn to her infectious laughter and the way her presence brought light and warmth into his life.

But instead of succumbing to the temptation of the moment, James took a step back, his hands trembling with restraint. "Oh, (Y/N)," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know how much I wish..." But before he let himself finish his sentence, he refused to take advantage of the defencelessness of his best friend. "(Y/N), you don’t know what are you talking about. Go and sleep it off."

The next morning dawned with the harsh light of reality, (Y/N) waking to the dull ache of a pounding headache and the sharp pang of regret. She found herself suffocated with a sense of shame, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the memory of her drunken confession to James.

Avoiding him became her sole mission, her footsteps quickening whenever she caught sight of his familiar figure in the school hallways. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. One fateful afternoon, as (Y/N) hurried around a corner, her heart leapt into her throat as she collided with James, her books scattered across the floor in a chaotic symphony of clattering pages. As she looked up, her eyes widened, she found James gazing down at her with a gentle smile, his outstretched hand offering her help. Once they stood up, (Y/N) met with his eyes for the first time in a long time.

"(Y/N)," he greeted softly, his eyes searching hers.

"James, I..." she began, her voice trembling with regret. "I'm so sorry about the night. I didn't mean to-"

Before she could finish her apology, James stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. Her heart pounding in her chest. "Shh," he whispered, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I-"

James silenced her with a gentle kiss, his lips tender against hers. At that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a bubble of warmth and affection.

When they finally parted, (Y/N) gazed up at him, her eyes wide with wonder. "James, I... I didn't know..."

He smiled a softness in his gaze that melted her heart. "You don't have to say anything, (Y/N)," he murmured. "I've felt the same way for a long time."

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "I never imagined..."

James brushed away her tears with a gentle thumb. "Sometimes, the best things in life are the ones we least expect," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

#james beaufort #james beaufort x reader #james beaufort imagines #james beaufort x you #james beaufort fanfiction #maxton hall #maxton hall fanfiction #maxton hall the world between us #damian hardung #damian hardung x reader

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mitfloya · 10 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 6.8K

synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time

To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him.

First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you.

You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.

The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.

It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had.

Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.

You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.

You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.

His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?

You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.

In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.

From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.

His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires.

Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways.

It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.

As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.

Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.

Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.

You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡

He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.

Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.

But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.

In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.

But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea.

Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.

He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.

However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.

His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.

When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.

His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.

You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #yandere hcs #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel #qi yu #yandere rafayel #yandere rafayel x reader #yandere rafayel x you #yandere rafayel x yn #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #dividers by cafekitsune

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

All of your fics have me daydreaming over here 🫣

Wouldn’t it be so cute if Joel accidentally said something to you where he basically admitted that he has a crush on you, or how he finds you attractive, and how red in the face he would get- like clearing his throat and averting his gaze or trying to cover it up

Part of me also imagines it in a “miss congenitally” way where fem!reader is then teasing like “you think I’m goooorgeous, you wanna kissss me, you want to loooove me” without realizing that he’s *actually* falling for you UGH my heart

AN | Please, this is so soft and I love this concept! 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You liked Joel. Really liked him. And you were fairly certain that he liked you too. But you were also fairly certain that he would never admit that he felt that way.

So what did that leave you with? A whole lot of fun and teasing. You might as well have some fun with it, right? Right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hello there,” as soon as you spotted Joel, you flounced over to him, a big smile on your face. He was tending to his flock of his sheep, but stopped and turned around to face you. It was cold but you could still see the pink rising up in his cheeks. You were breathless by the time you reached him, heart pitter-pattering wildly in your chest, “Joel.”

“Hey sweetheart,” you liked it when he called you that. It always made your face flush up with warmth, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged innocently as you hopped onto the fence and made yourself comfortable, swinging your feet back and forth. He tutted softly and eyed you suspiciously, “what?”

“Nothin,’” he echoed your words, teasing you affectionately.

“What?” your eyes widened as your mouth formed a small pout, “don’t be mean!”

“I’m not,” he laughed and oh. You like the way his singular dimple showed up, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corner. He was wickedly handsome and it always made you weak. He reached over and gently brushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “I just like giving you a hard time.”

“Have you ever considered not giving me a hard time?” you took some of the feed out of the bucket and tossed it to some of his sheep.

“I have,” he mused as you raised an eyebrow softly, “and I’ve decided that I will not be doing that. It’s too much fun to mess with you-”

“Hey!”

“Affectionately,” he promised, as he watched your face go through a range of different emotions before you settled on a happy little smile, “what’re you up to you, trouble?”

“Nothing much,” you replied softly...which wasn’t a total lie. The entire truth was that you’d been looking for him because you missed him. It wasn’t even that it had been so long since you’d last seen him, you just liked being around him. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were…into him, but you weren’t sure how well you were hiding it. Considering that half of the people in Jackson teased you about it, you were pretty sure that it was…obvious, “had some time to kill and wanted to spend it with my favorite nuisance.”

“I’m the nuisance?” he scoffed playfully before pinching your side, causing you to squeal and squirm as you slid off the fence. Before you even had to worry about falling into the mud or hurting yourself, you felt a strong pair of hands wrap around your waist, “easy, trouble. Don’t want you to go hurting yourself.”

Your brain was currently consumed with the thought of him still holding onto your waist, despite the fact that he no longer needed to. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before only nodding shyly. It always seemed like he could see right into your soul, into your heart. You couldn’t hold his gaze for much longer otherwise you were sure that you’d spill all of your secrets.

“Thank you,” you whispered, slowly and reluctantly pulling out of his grasp. You swallowed thickly, before flailing your hand around, “I-I should go. I have to do…things.”

“Things,” he repeated, his accent twanging slightly on the word, “what kind of things, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It just so happens that I do mind you asking, Miller,” you lied, finding it easy to smile one again from the affection he so openly offered you. He wasn’t a hard man by any means, not these days anymore, but he still wasn’t so free with his heart with many people. You happened to be one of the few that he cared so deeply for, “so, I gotta get going.”

“Uh huh honey,” he watched as you slipped past him and out of the small enclosure. Before running off, you turned around to offer him a meek little wave, “have fun with those things!”

“I will!” you stuck out your tongue at him, but he was laughing, “see you around, Miller!”

“See you around,” he stood there and watched you run off, a dopey little smile on his face. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head in amusement before turning back to his little flock.

“You guys make me sick,” Ellie popped out of nowhere and stood next to Joel, petting one of the sheep - Gort, which happened to be her favorite. Joel couldn’t help the deep belly laugh that escaped him; it made Ellie smile too. He was laughing a lot more these days and Ellie really liked that, “disgustingly cute.”

“What?” he looked at her in surprise, “her? Me?”

“Definitely her,” she felt a warm blush creep into her cheeks as well; she had a bit of a crush on you but it wasn’t anything serious. She nudged him in the ribs, “you’re pretty when you blush, don’t worry about it, Joel. But the two of you together - absolutely precious and heartwarming.”

“Ellie.”

“Just ask her out or something,” she suggested and Joel absolutely blushed and felt himself fumbling like a nervous boy rather than a grown man, “go to a movie, make her dinner, get a little act-”

“Ellie,” his eyes widened as the girl started to laugh, “don’t you dare finish that sentence, kid. You shouldn’t even know about that!”

“I just turned fifteen old man, in case you forgot,” yeah, she really liked to make him squirm, “we had a party and you were making eyes at her then too. Besides, I already know about sex, Joel. You don’t have to give me that talk.”

“Good - I wait, what were they teaching you in that FEDRA school?”

“Not the point - but you didn’t deny that you were making heart eyes,” she ducked out of his reach, giggling wildly as she ran in between the sheep, “ask her out!”

“You better keep running!” he started running after her, both of them laughing like the fools they were.

This life really suited both of them. Now he just needed to get the girl - you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Need some help?" you turned around at the sound of his voice and almost fell off your ladder in the process. He was at your side and caught you in mere moments, "whoa there, trouble. You need to start being more careful!"

"It would help if you weren't sneaking up on me all the time," you were definitely trying to ignore the fact that he was currently holding you in his arms against his chest. He laughed, deep and hearty, and you could feel the sound vibrating in his chest.

"I don't consider it sneakin' if I'm coming up to you in broad daylight and announcing my presence," he gently set you back, and wiped some dirt off your face. His touch was a juxtaposition of rough and soft and managed to send shivers down your spine, "there - all better. Beautiful."

You'd already been warming up under his gaze but as soon as that singular word came out, you almost combusted on the spot. Part of you was sure that you had imagined it, a delusional bit of hope, but you also swore you could see the pink creeping into his cheeks.

"What did you say?" you looked at him with big, wide eyes and that's when it hit Joel. He'd actually voiced his innermost thoughts out loud. To you. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, "did you call me beautiful?"

"What? I, ugh, no?" He shrugged his shoulders as if to try and play it off. But you both knew he was lying, "I'd never say that!"

"Umm…thank you?" You were trying to keep your laughter contained. His face turned bright red and he groaned as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. You are beautiful but I didn't mean to say it like that…?"

"Are you sure, Joel?" This time you had the upper hand as you reached over and brushed his hair out of his face, "are you asking me or telling me?"

"I'm telling you that you're beautiful-"

"Oh! So you do think I'm beautiful!" A huge smile spread across your face as Joel looked like he wished the ground would open up and swallow him while.

"I…fuck," he hung his head and sighed deeply.

"Oooh, you think I'm pretty!" You were going to have way too much fun with this. You were bouncing on your feet and gently nudging his shoulder, "Joel has a crush on me! He loves me!"

"I-" he couldn't even defend himself because everything you were saying was true. He just wasn't quite sure if he had been ready to admit that. But the way you were looking at him made it feel like you might have felt the same way.

"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" You had no clue where this burst of confidence was coming from him, but for once you liked it, "'s okay, Joel. You can admit you're madly in love with me."

Joel's head was spinning and he felt a hundred different things at once. All he knew was that it was suddenly overwhelming.

"I have to go," was all he could get out as he gently pushed past you. You made a small sound of surprise as you watched him go, his shoulders slumping. Oh. You really hoped you hadn't overstepped any boundaries or just made things completely awkward.

"Fuck," you groaned at yourself, "fuck."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You decided to let things cool down for a few days before seeking him out again. You really just hoped that you hadn't messed things up with him.

You found him outside the small bar, leaning against the wall and staring up at the sky. He must have sensed you because he looked over and caught your eye, a pointedly neutral expression on his face.

"Hey," you walked over to him, hesitantly but relaxed when he didn't seem to recoil.

"Hey," he replied, offering you a small nod. The two of you fell into silence for a bit as you looked up at the stars. You liked being able to see them here; they were so clear it felt like you could have touched them.

"Umm," you broke the silence after a bit and swallowed down your nerves, "Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn't mean to…make things weird. I shouldn't have done it."

He made a small sound before he turned to face you full on. Joel studied you for a moment, leaving your heart beating wildly. Before you even realized what was happening, he gently took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

His eyes flicked to yours, almost as if searching yours for permission. You gave him the most subtle of nods and he quickly closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss.

When Joel did something, he didn't go halfway, he fully committed. And he kissed you as though his life depended on it, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do in life.

You pulled apart only when you needed to breathe, and even then it was reluctant. The smile you gave him almost made him weak in the eyes but he returned it, without hesitation or question.

"What you said," he paused for a moment, "it wasn't wrong. You're right, actually. All of it was true."

"Joel, I'm -" and then it hit you, "wait, what."

"It was true," he repeated, "all of it."

"Oh," you blinked a few times, "oh. You love me?"

"I do," he confirmed and it felt like your entire body was on fire, "I guess it just took you to finally get it out of me."

"I thought I said all the wrong things," you admitted breathlessly, "I was afraid I'd fucked everything up."

"No," he promised, "you didn't at all."

"You love me," you said dreamily as Joel just grinned at you, "and I love you. Wow."

"Wow," he teased softly, "what am I going to do with you, trouble?"

"Kiss me for starters."

"Yeah," he touched your cheek softly, "I can definitely do that."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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solbaby7 · 9 months ago

Text

Jolene

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, quick little blurb, angst w/no comfort, probably typos

summary: [ shoutout to Jolene by Dolly Parton for the inspo but me personally? i would’ve shot jolene ]

—

Envy, the killer of joy.

A feeling that turned even the most pure souls into something cruel and corrupt.

Azriel’s usual routine slightly altering to accommodate the newly Made and barely adjusting Archeron sister. At first you’d found it noble; charming—a testament to his morals and obligation to his High Lord and Lady.

But as time passed and Elain slowly got better, Az got more distant. Less talkative and unable to bring himself out of the doting nature he’d slip into when around her. “Az, my hands work. I can put my own cloak on.”

He knew it was a joke. “I know, it’s just that—nevermind.” Still didn’t stop his mouth from pulling into a barely there grimace, hands pulling away as if you’d bit him and the teasing smile you wear falls.

It’s just that, Elain always lets him put hers on and waits patiently as he ties it securely at her neck.

The step you take back is involuntary but the message is sent perfectly clear when your expression turns to stone, painful realization settling in your bones and it takes everything in you not to buckle on the spot. You’d heard stories, about one-sided mating bonds and the pure turmoil that ensued during the time it took for the others to snap but this—the Mother had a sick sense of humor. Leading you believe that Azriel could ever truly love you without it; a fate more cruel than you could’ve wished on your worst enemies. “You know what, I forgot something upstairs. Why don’t you go on ahead without me and I’ll meet up with you shortly.”

He seems hesitant to comply, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out what had changed so suddenly. After a few beats of time he relents, pressing a farewell kiss to your mouth but he’s gone before you can wonder if he felt your lips tremble.

The safety of solitude allows you the comfort to let the tears fall, shoulders shaking as sobs pull from your chest. You weren’t sure how anyone could bare it; watching the one meant for them love another more than they ever did you.

Manicured fingers curl under the constrictive necklace, tugging it off to make room for the heaving breaths you take and a choked cry fills the space when Elain stands before you. “Gods, I’m so sorry,” You stumble trying to catch your footing and embarrassment burns beneath your skin at the true beauty of her. Perfectly put together in pale pinks and pure white lace. Hand sewn jewels are smattered about the bodice of the finest fabrics, accentuating the warmth of her hair and the glow on unblemished skin. “I thought everyone had already left.” Your arms curl around yourself as you make distance between you, pulling away from her outstretched hands as if they were coated in burning flames.

“Are you alright?”

You laugh thickly but there’s no humor in it. “No,” Your heart won’t stop hammering against your chest and knots form in the pit of your stomach. It’s pathetic, your inability to even appear the slightest bit worthy in the presence of your competitor. But, what was the point when she wasn’t even trying and was still so far ahead? “I’ve been thinking about a million different ways you and I would have this conversation and I assure you, this was not in one of those scenarios.” A poor attempt at a joke but even in the midst of such conflicting and all-consuming feelings, you had no interest in being mean—it wasn’t Elain’s fault. “Forgive me for what I’m about to ask you but are you and Azriel—“ The words clog in your throat, refusing to come forward and you have to turn away from her to wipe your tears. “Are you?”

Elain’s brow furrows and you wonder if that doe look in her eye was the first thing Azriel fell for. Such purity and grace. “I don’t understand.”

“Please, don’t make me say it.” Her heart breaks at the agony in your tone, the defeated sag of your shoulders in the beautiful dress that felt less than lovely when touching your skin. Everything felt wrong the longer you looked at her. So many differences—too many for Azriel to possibly love you both without having a preference. “I love him, Elain. With every breath I take, I love him and I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of it but you—“ Mascara trails down your cheeks and the disgust you feel towards yourself is palpable. “The way he is with you, even I don’t know what that’s like.” A deep shuddering breath to prepare you for the answers to your questions. “So, please, just tell me the truth.”

“He’s been helping me adjust,” Her hands fidget before her, obviously uncomfortable and searching for a safety net but the distance you’ve made hasn’t been broken. You haven’t yelled or accused and the longer Elain stared the worse she felt. “I hadn’t considered how that might affect you but nothing ever happened.”

You shift in place, ankles screaming in your heels and you’re distantly reminded that you promised Az you’d only be a few minutes and this was starting to feel like eons had passed standing in the foyer. “Nothing?” Your voice is lifeless, fresh tears welling in your waterline as your hands grip so tight on your arms your nails bite into soft skin. “He says your name in his sleep,” Elain’s breath catches at the confession and you wonder if Azriel had ever wished to pull that sound from her. Possible scenarios of chaste touches and almost kisses flash behind your lids and the turmoil absolutely eats you alive, gnawing at your flesh and grinding at your bones until there was nothing left. “Reasonably so, your beauty is beyond compare,” Your gaze sweeps over the softness of her hair, the delicate point of her ears just barely peeking through. Soft, feminine features with curves where it mattered and none where it didn’t.

Subconsciously, you take another step back, attempting to hide the endless insecurities in the shadows casted by dim lights but the self-hatred doesn’t cease for a second when she calls your name with such pity.

“Do you love him?” You ask meekly, terrified for her answer and you’re certain she can see you trembling. The tears just won’t stop, blurring your vision and preventing you from breathing normally but something inside of you demands to stick around for her answer. “Because, I can understand how you could easily take him but you just don’t know what he means to me.” Your palm rubs at your chest subconsciously, yearning for a comfort that that hadn’t yet been created—not yet fully formed. “Maybe, it would hurt less if you loved him too—really loved him. But if you don’t, Elain please. Please, I beg of you not to take him from me just because you can.”

Elain remains rooted in place, every flawless feature laced with guilt and shame. She reaches out for you, an attempt to comfort but once her smooth hands reach you skin the sobs wrack your body uncontrollably. She’s too good; too kind and sweet, too innocent and fragile to be touching such stained hands.

It made sense. Azriel loving her. He’d always taken a liking to delicate things.

But Elain had a mate. Had a bond that was mutually shared no matter how hard she fought it. She calls your name once more, full of urgency and remorse when trying to console you but there’s no use. The dam has broken with no tools in sight to repair the damage done.

“You could have your choice of men but I will never love again.” Too much time has passed. Someone will come looking; if not for you then certainly for the High Lady’s sister and the realization has you yanking your hands back. There’s no saving your makeup and Elain can’t fight the tears that fall down her own cheeks as she watches you stumble in the heels, bend over to rip them off and cradle them close as you retreat to the staircase. “He’s the only one for me.”

“Please, I am so sorry.”

The sincerity is appreciated but the words don’t register how they should. “I had to have this talk with you,” It’s barely above a whisper, without the fae hearing Elain was sure she would’ve missed it. “—my happiness depends on you and whatever you decide to do, Elain.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel #azriel angst #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #az angst #acotar angst #acotar #acotar fics

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cherryredstars · 10 months ago

Note

Hiiii.

Could you do headcanons or something of Simon would be finding out his girlfriend is a virgin and/or their first time together maybe.

I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable writing it or don't think it would fit the character.

You're my favorite Simon writer and tbh I use your interpretation of him as a basis for my daydreams lol

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Losing Virginity, Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex, Praise, Fluffy Sex

Summary: Simon takes your virginity in the most beautiful way.

A/N: I got TWO requests for this and I love it so much, I jumped for my laptop!! And that’s so sweet!! I’m glad my Simon has a special place in your heart!!!

Word Count: 3.8K (Not Edited)

His hands are shaky.

His large, steady hands that he has used to kill men and handle sniper rifles are shaking. He might be more nervous than you are. But he wants this to be good for you. He wants to be good to you. He wants it to be perfect and sweet and painless. He wants it to be everything you've ever dreamed of and he wants it to be everything you deserve. He wants you to enjoy it and ease your mind of all the pretty little thoughts stuck in your head.

He doesn’t want you to regret this. Regret choosing him.

So, he’s soft. Feather light touches that make your body crave more and more. His hands are like clouds, making your naked body float as he sets you down on the pile of pillows on his bed. You sink into them, the white fluff cocooning your body. It keeps you warm, caressing your skin when Simon can’t. It warms your heart seeing how caring he is. How he takes these extra steps to make you more comfortable. How, even with something so all-consuming like sex, he still lets his world revolve around you. It makes you take a shaky breath, love and trust replacing the oxygen in your body.

Simon is slow as he crawls over your body, thighs planted on either side of your body. He hopes you can’t see the slight tremor in his hands as he brings them to your face, brushing hair behind your ears before cupping your cheeks. Your face is warm against his rough palms and he gets lost in your eyes. They are so powerful, sucking him in and refusing to let him go. They sparkle, shades of color twirling and dancing in your irises. In the natural glassiness of your eyes he can see himself. For a moment, he can see what you mean when you tell him how beautiful he is. He holds onto that image of himself, collecting another piece of you that will forever tether itself to his soul.

He hopes when you look into his eyes, you see how devastatingly gorgeous you are. He hopes you see what he sees.

His eyes grow heavy as he traces your features, his eyes drawing up a map that he explores every second he is away from you. His eyes catch on your lips, plump beauties that always make his lungs contract to the point that they ache. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours but not quite kissing. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, and his eyes flutter shut the second his lips press against yours. Your mouth moves against him, and he presses against your body. His hands stay gentle on your face, even as his eyes squeeze tight and his lips become more bruising with passion.

His heart pounds against his chest, desperately wanting to escape and hand itself to you. His mind is a swirling storm of colors, reds and pinks and oranges that mix and pulse as his tongue invades your mouth. Your moan that he swallows drips down his throat like the sweetest honey, warming his stomach and giving his starving soul the motivation to go on. His whole body buzzes as he exchanges love with you, his tongue collecting yours as yours collects his. It coats his mouth until all he can taste is you. It feels like the end of the world when the two of you part.

His chest is heaving at the same pace as yours, love suffocating both of you in the sweetest of ways. Your lips are swollen and glossy from spit, and they stretch to the most heart wrenching smile as you stare up at him.

“You’re stunning.” He whispers into the quiet space, his hands leaving your face so he can see all of it unobscured.

Your cheeks flush, and he notices how it travels and colors your whole body. Your body with its soft skin and perfect imperfections. He can’t stop his hands from tracing over them. Every dip and bump and mark. Tracing the paths of beauty marks, stretch marks, and the faded remainders of scars. Your body shivers over the little touches, and he can’t help but smile down at you. It is a fucking miracle someone like you wants someone like him.

As his eyes go further down, he notices the shifting of your hips. Picks up on the ways you try to subtly press your thighs together to stop the pulse ache in between them. It chokes Simon, and his hands come to rub the top of your thighs. You instantly relax into the touch, sinking into the pillows as he calms you slightly. He travels down your body, his body half on the bed. You squeak when he slowly parts your legs, revealing the glistening between your thighs. Your face burns as you become self-conscious with him so close to your folds. Your legs instinctively try to close, but Simon keeps them open. From over your mound, Simon looks up at you, a reassuring look on his face.

“I know, love, I know. But I have to prep you first. I want to make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

The words are soft and caring, sinking into your skin. You bite your lips shyly, whispering out an ‘okay’. You relax your body into the pillows, taking deep breaths to try to keep the rapid beat of your heart at bay. Simon praises you, encouraging you to continue to relax with soft coos. Your breath hitches the second his lips press into your inner thigh, getting you used to the feeling of his mouth around your sensitive areas. You whine from the sensation, hips wiggling the closer and closer he gets to the aching area. One of his hands comes to rest on your lower stomach to keep you still, only applying the necessary amount of pressure and not an ounce more.

“Shh, baby. Just grab my hand if you need to, okay?” Simon mummers, his breath ghosting over your clit.

You can simply nod, your two hands instantly playing with his fingers as you fidget. Simon smiles, turning his head to hide it into the side of your thigh as your cuteness warms his chest. You can feel the curve of his lips against your skin, feeling the slight puff of air he lets out. Seeing him so easy going calms your nerves, and he can feel the moment your body completely relaxes. He pulls away from your skin, his hand holding your thigh squeezing the skin reassuringly.

He warns you with a gentle kiss right above your clit, and you hold your breath in preparation. It instantly escapes you as your mouth drops open with a sharp gasp when his lips press against your clit. Your hips jolt at the sensation, your hold on his hand tightening as he gives it a kitten lick. His lips rub against your bud, eyes looking up at you to study your expressions. Your mouth is dropped open with panting as he continues his ministrations on your clit, kissing and licking and sucking it into your mouth. When you become used to the sensation, his tongue drags down to your folds, licking the skin around them. You moan at the feeling, squeaking when he licks along your slit.

“Si!” You cry out, hips arching off the bed as his tongue pokes at your entrance.

His hand on your stomach brings them back down to the bed, and he moans at the rush of arousal that coats his tongue. His eyes are dazed, drunk on the liquid sugar between your thighs. His nose bumps against your clit as he moves his face up and down so his tongue can take it all in. You’re a moaning, whiny mess as he continues. Simon’s tongue begins to penetrate you and the two of you groan at the sensation. Your walls instantly clench around his wet muscle, and he can’t help but notice how tight you are. Too tight for you to be able to take his cock.

You cry out when he pulls his face away from you, heavy breaths parting from your lips. You look down at him, worried you did something wrong, but the calm look on his face calms you down instantly.

“I gotta stretch ya out, lovie. Can’t take m’with how tight you are right now. I’m going to have to stretch you out on my fingers, okay? Nice and slow.” Simon communicates, and your walls flutter at the idea of him fingering you.

“Nice and slow,” you repeat back to him with a nod and he rewards you with another kiss to your sensitive clit.

He leans his face back down to your cunt, resuming his addicting sucks and licks. It relaxes your body, only stiffening slightly as you feel his fingers. They don’t penetrate you, not yet. Instead they slide against you, collecting your slick to use as a lube. They’re glossy quickly, covered in your divine scent and smooth glaze. It takes everything inside of him not to instantly suck them into his mouth out of greediness.

The warm pad of his hands leave you for a moment, and you breathe out when you feel them placed right under where Simon laps at you. Your breaths become slightly shaky, anticipation flowing through you as he teases the entrance. Your hands bunch into the pillows, eyes closing when the very tip of his singular finger slips inside. It parts your folds smoothly, and your walls tighten around it the deeper he pushes it. It's like your walls are trying to suck him in and push him out at the same time.

Unlike what you’ve heard from other people when they've been fingered for the first time, it doesn’t hurt. There is definitely some pressure, but it feels more uncomfortable than anything. Simon moans against you when he knuckles out, your walls fluttering to welcome his digit. He curls it slightly to see how much room he has to move, and you moan as his blunt nails caress your rigid walls. As Simon expected, there isn’t a lot of room. You’re too tight and your body is dead set on suctioning itself around him like a second skin.

His mouth wrapped around your clit, coaxing it to make your body cooperate. He sucks on it, long and hard, making your body tense up as you feel a band in you suddenly snap. You cry out, hands desperately clutching onto Simon’s head as your hips buck. The orgasm floods through you, temporarily drowning all your nerves in pure pleasure. Simon can feel the wetness surging around his finger, and he uses it to his advantage as he begins curling and thrusting his finger.

With your body so relaxed with your climax, your walls have slackened just a bit. Simon tilts his hand upwards, making the finger inside of you apply pressure to your top wall. You whine out, slightly sensitive from your release. Simon pulls his face around from your thighs, and your cheeks flame at the sight of his glistening chin and lower face. It distracts you just enough to ignore the feeling of a second finger entering you. The uncomfortable ache gets stronger, and you wince from the foreign feeling. Simon instantly stops, eyes asking you if you want to continue. You don’t hesitate to nod.

Simon’s hand on your stomach slides down, just enough for his thumb to reach your bud. The rough calluses of his thumb swipe over the wet pearl easily, and you mewl as your body sinks down into soft pillows. Simon’s second dinger slides in almost instantly, sheathing it within you. Simon’s eyes are intensely trained to where his fingers meet your opening, focused on making you as comfortable as possible. Slowly, he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing up on your walls to coax them to loosen. You moan out, hips slightly grinding in time to his curls.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl, just keep doing that. Taking it so well, so proud of you,” Simon praises, mind numb from the way the sound of squishy flesh and arousal fill the room.

You whimper, walls slightly clenching around his fingers. It makes his heart soar knowing how much his words affect you. To reward you, he slowly begins to scissor his fingers inside of you, parting them as far as they can go before bringing them back together. It’ll help stretch you out, and the sounds of pleasure you make in response are musical gold.

“Think you can take another, sweet thing?” he whispers up at you.

You're tempted to shake your head no. It would be too much for you, would feel too good. It would break you in seconds, and you know your body would give out before coming three times. But you shyly- oh so shyly- nod your head. Simon smiles encouragingly at you, kissing along your thighs and legs. It makes a dopey smile cover your face, slight giggles escaping you as you feel his ticklish stubble. Simon withdraws his fingers half-way, pushing them to one side as best as he could. You can feel yourself pulsing, whimpering when Simon’s ring finger slips into the empty space. You’re too tight for it to slip anywhere past his second knuckle, so he works you there. The palm of his hand slides against your clit, adding on to the delicious pleasure consuming you. You can’t help the small gasp and whimpers that leave you, and you moan out in surprise when his third finger fully slips in.

He pauses, not moving his fingers and letting you adjust to the feeling of being so full and stretched. It burns just slightly, but it isn’t unbearable. In fact, it turns underwhelming all too quickly, your body already craving more. You sigh as you begin rotating your hips sloppily, humming as it forces his fingers to rub against your walls. Simon is in a trance as he watches you take your pleasure, and he curls his fingers to aid you. Your stiff movements become more fluid as your walls open up to him, the slippery sounds of wetness filling the room again. You can feel an orgasm snowballing in your lower stomach, and your thighs begin to shake. But just as it’s about to peak, Simon pulls his fingers out of you.

Your breaths are shaky and you make a sound of betrayal as your orgasm dies away. Simon coos down at you, sympathy in his eyes as he comes up. He leaves apologetic kisses around your face, scattering them down your neck until they reach your collarbones and shoulders. Your mind quickly forgets the failed orgasm as you feel the oozing tip of Simon’s cock rub into your inner thigh. The precum it smears on your skin is warm, and you can feel the stickiness of it. You shift your thigh slightly, rubbing it against him. Simon moans against your skin, pulling away and panting into the junction of your shoulder. He pushes himself up, one of his hands grabbing yours. Instinctively, you squeeze it.

“You ready? You still want this?” Simon asks you. “It’s okay if you change your mind, we can stop here if you want.”

The idea of stopping makes you want to cry, and you frantically answer him before he stops, “I want this. Please, Simon.”

Simon rubs your hand reassuringly, shushing you as his other hand guides him to your entrance. Slick instantly connects him to you, and he bites his lip as he rubs the head of his cock up and down. Your hips chase him, and your hand tightens around his. He chuckles at you, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. His forehead rests against yours, and he ever so softly asks you to meet his eyes. You do instantly, hips stilling and eyelashes fluttering. He smiles down at you, bumping his nose against yours.

“This next part is going to hurt a bit, baby. I wish it didn’t, but it will. Just… try to breathe through it, okay? Squeeze my hand as tightly as you need to and we can stop if it’s too much.”

His words and tone are so caring that it makes your heart ache. You nod, whispering out an ‘okay’ when you see from the look on his face that he needs a verbal agreement. Simon kisses your forehead before he pulls away briefly. His eyes scan the pillows, and he grabs on from the outer edge of the pile. He lifts your hips gently, placing the pillow under them. It gives your lower body some height, and you think it’ll make it easier for him to slip inside of you. In no time, his forehead is back against yours, and his fingers are tangling with yours. You breathe deeply, focusing on his eyes as you feel his tip press against your entrance.

Your breath hitches as his tip penetrates you, the crown slipping in. It makes your head dizzy, and Simon’s breathy exhale warms your chin. You blink rapidly up at him, mouth refusing to close as his head pops inside of you. Your body instantly tightens around him and he moans. His hand squeezes yours, trying to fight the urge to push more of himself inside of you. He takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second before continuing. His eyes meet yours again as more and more of him enters you. Your breath is still seized in your chest, hand tightening around Simon’s. Through the buzzing in your brain, you feel Simon’s breaths hit you. Your eyes leave his face to his mouth, realizing he’s exaggerating his breathing for you. Your eyes stay to his lips as you begin copying him.

You stiffen when he stops inside of you, his tip meeting resistance as it presses against your hymen. Simon swallows, breathing deeply. He looks pained as he looks at you, like he dreads what’s next.

“Hey, love. You still with me?” He asks you gently. When you nod, he smiles slightly and continues. “You’ve been doing so good for me so far, baby. But, there is one more thing I need you to do for me, okay?”

The undertone he uses makes you unease and your body squirms. It causes him to press harder against the barrier inside of you and he hisses. You instantly stop. You bite your lips nervously, squeezing his hand. “What is it, Si?”

His hand squeezes yours in return, but his smile drops slightly. “This part is going to hurt the most. I’m gonna have to thrust into you with a bit of force to break through, okay? I need you to take a really deep breath for me. Can you do that?”

You can feel your body break out into a sweat as your nerves flare. But you nod hesitantly. Your hand has a death grip on Simon in preparation. Slowly you take a deep breath in, as Simon begins to slide his cock back slightly. Your chest puffs up with air, and it rushes out of you in a choked, high-pitched noise as he thrusts back in. His hand instantly comes to grab your other hand as you let out a small scream, and he peppers kisses around your face as he apologizes over and over again.

“I know. I know, I’m so sorry. I know, bunny.”

He’s all the way to the base, and you feel so full. You’re breathing heavily, nails digging into Simon’s skin. Your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Simon’s lips are at your temple, muttering reassuring words to you until you calm down and that initial pain and burn disappear. You sniffle, eyelashes blinking away your tears. Your hands loosen from Simon’s slightly and he pulls his face away from yours.

“You okay? You want me to start moving?” he whispers to you, pushing sweat drenched hair away from your face with a soft smile.

You squirm slightly, wincing a tiny bit, but nod. “Just… go slow.”

Simon mumbles an ‘of course’, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling out slightly and giving you a slow and shallow thrust. You squeak at the feeling, your hands falling to Simon’s shoulders. Simon keeps that slow pace until the slight discomfort fades away. You moan as the pleasure starts registering, and soon you find yourself asking him to go faster. Simon obeys, beginning to pull out more and more until he’s thrusting into you at a good pace.

Your mouth parts with soft moans and gasps, throwing your arms around Simon’s neck. Simon’s arms come to wrap around your body, burying his head in your neck and pressing kisses to the skin. The drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

‘I- oh my god, Simon!” You moan out as he goes faster, the fluttering of your walls driving him mad. You feel amazing, tight and warm around him. He has to take deep breaths to not blow his load in the next second.

“Gods, love. You feel so incredible,” he moans out, pulling you closer to his body. Your walls clench even tighter around and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Si, I’m gonna-” You cut yourself with a moan as you throw your head back, arms tightening around his neck.

Simon’s face drops to your chest, sucking and kissing. “Go ahead, I got you baby. I got you.”

You’re done in an instant, moaning out his name as you come. Your walls pulse against him rapidly, and his pace turns desperate. His face slackens as he stills, spilling his own release into you. He slumps forward, pressing the two of you into the pillows as he twitches inside of you. Your hands rake through his hair, your combined panting filling the room. Simon places lazy, open mouthed kisses on the skin he can reach, each one followed by a slurred praise. You hum in content, your hands pulling his face up to yours. You have a dizzying smile on your face, and Simon loses his breath all over again. Your lips capture his, and he’s more than willing to kiss back.

When the two of you pull back, your cheeks warm. “Thank you, Simon. That was amazing.”

You can see Simon filling with love and pride, a smile spreading on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle as he attacks your face with playfully kisses that leave wet marks in their wake. You laugh and squeal as you try to push him away, head thrown back with delight. Simon could die like this, he thinks. He would give up everything in the world to stay in this moment with you for the rest of his life. He smiles down at you, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up, love”

My heart is warm and fuzzy!!!

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winterarmyy · 4 months ago

Text

Against All Odds | Part III

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 5k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, gore, blood, violence, short yet emotional smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overall low intensity angst with a bittersweet ending.

A/N: i want to thank all of you for taking some of your precious time to read my fic, i really appreciate it! this is the last installment of the main series, i hope you enjoy your time.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Standing at the altar, Bucky’s heart pounded loudly; excitement and sorrow interlaced within his being. The weight of Y/N’s death still haunted him; every time he closed his eyes, those horrifying images conquered his mind.

But today, this very moment, he had been given another chance. The conflict within him was fierce; he was determined to protect her this time, to keep them safe no matter the cost. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, but all his thoughts were interrupted when the church doors opened.

As the crowd rose to their feet, for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Y/N walked toward him, each step amplifying the intense storm swirling inside him. She was more beautiful than he remembered, more radiant than he ever thought possible. In the past, he had been unfamiliar with the nuances of his emotions, but now, with his heart fully opened, he was consumed by an all-encompassing love.

The urge to rush to her, to pull her into his arms and never let go, was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to remain composed, to hold onto the control he needed.

As she walked down the aisle, he felt like his chest was on fire; it was almost overwhelming. Memories of their past life together flashed before his eyes, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he was determined to save.

And as Bucky lifted her veil, he couldn’t focus on anything else; the sight of her, so radiant and beautiful, so close, so real.The delicate fabric framed her face, accentuating the soft curve of her cheeks, the gentle arch of her brows, and the deep, soulful eyes that had captivated him from the moment they met.

When her eyes met his, he saw something unexpected in their depths; an innocence and trust that made his heart ache. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect this woman, not just from the dangers of what lies ahead in their future but also beyond this earth; heaven or hell, it does not matter.

Bucky gently placed a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the pristine fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her cheek, the touch both tender and deliberate. The sight of her up close, the feel of her under his touch, was both too much and not enough.

He leaned in and his heart raced vigorously in the trepidation of the chance that he might lose her again. But when his lips met hers, he was completely engulfed by immense euphoria. The happiness of being able to hold her again, to share this moment of tenderness, was so much stronger than the anxiety that hounded his mind. As he pulled away, he saw her blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with confusion and awe.

To be able to see such a sight again was a blessing; Bucky thought he had lost it forever. His chest seemingly expanded to accommodate the hope and determination filling the space within his ribcage. To ensure that this time, things would be different. He had longed for this moment, to have her in his arms again, and now that it was real, it was even more profound than he had imagined.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the depth of his emotions. “I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear.” The reassurance in his tone was genuine, a reflection of his own relief and longing.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes softened as he adored the tint of pink on her cheeks, “Good,” he added, his gaze tender and full of warmth. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Bucky’s nightmare was a relentless torture decorated with anguish and despair. And it was always the same series of events. Him riding through the frozen landscape, the biting cold of the snow searing through his worn leather boots. The icy wind howled around him, matching the torment that gripped his heart. The landscape blurred as he navigated the bloodied halls of their home, a once serene space now stained by violence and death.

Him, stumbling into their shared bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw her; Y/N’s body, brutally maimed and lifeless. The sight of his child, still and cold, was a dagger to his soul. The room was a horrifying tableau of shattered dreams and crushed hopes. His cries of despair echoed in the empty corridors of his mind, the reality of the scene blending with his deepest fears.

His body jerked violently as he jolted awake, the sudden shift from the nightmare to the waking world leaving him disoriented and breathless. The line between a mere dream and reality was blurred, the remnants of his terror clinging to him like a shroud.

He fumbled through the darkness, his mind racing as he struggled to grasp where he was. The echoes of his terror still haunted him, a grim reminder of the fragility of their happiness.

“Bucky?” Her voice, soft and uncertain, cut through his haze of panic. He blinked rapidly, struggling to focus.

“Y/N?” His voice was a whisper, fragile and filled with a tormented confusion. Seeing her was almost like a divine intervention, a moment of disbelief at her presence. He stared at her, trying to reconcile the vibrant, alive woman before him with the haunting vision he had just escaped.

Her presence was a stark contrast to the lifeless image burned into his mind. Seeing her breathing, speaking back to him, felt like a dream that will never come true.

Not wasting any time dwelling, his body surged forward, enveloping her in a gripping yet desperate embrace. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice trembling with the raw intensity of his emotions. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his grief and dread pouring out in the hidden agony.

The truth of his nightmare and the burden of his misery weighed heavily on him, almost impossible to bear; at least not alone. The words he wanted to speak were trapped within him, their pressure making it hard to breathe, let alone articulate his pain.

Bucky took refuge in his wife’s arm, focusing on the feeling of her hands moving soothingly up and down his back. “I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I’m here, Bucky.” Her presence was grounding; holding him tight in a reality that felt too fragile to trust.

The night was still and intimate, and Bucky’s need for her overwhelmed him. Their connection deepened as he made love to her, each touch, each kiss a frenzied affirmation of the life they still shared; a way to anchor himself to the truth of their love amidst the chaos of his dreams.

In the opulent chamber, Bucky stood like a silent sentinel, his form partially obscured by the shadows cast from the full moon behind him. The eerie silhouette of his shadow filtering through the large, arched window. The room was a luxurious display of wealth and power, adorned with velvet drapes and golden accents.

Despite the grandeur, the atmosphere was chilling, accentuated by the presence of Bucky in his Winter Soldier attire: a black mask, heavy boots, and a sleek, tactical uniform that made him appear as if he were more machine than man.

He moved with the ghostly grace of a predator, each step intentional and calculated as he approached the enormous bed at the centre of the room. The Emperor lay sprawled beneath an elaborate canopy, his slumber seemingly undisturbed by the chaos outside his lavish walls. It was almost laughable to Bucky that such a cruel ruler, whose hands were stained with countless deaths, could rest so easily, untouched by the spectres of guilt that should have plagued him.

Bucky’s gaze was unfeeling as he surveyed the sleeping figure. The Emperor's peaceful expression was a dichotomy to the turmoil that simmered beneath Bucky’s cold exterior. His presence, unmoving and imposing, made the room feel colder, his eyes devoid of warmth or emotion.With the steely void in his mind, his purpose clear as he stalked closer, each step making the heavy boots sound like distant thunder.

The Emperor stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Bucky standing at the foot of the bed. For a moment, there was confusion in the Emperor’s eyes, quickly replaced by a smirk. "I don't remember calling for you, soldier," he said, his tone half-joking, half-curious.

This was not the first visit at such ungodly hours for Bucky. Often the Emperor would call upon him to send him out on clandestine missions or covert operations.

Bucky’s unresponsive silence made the Emperor uneasy, a subtle crack in his facade of control. As Bucky’s form loomed closer, his eyes glinted with an icy determination that cut through the darkness like a blade. The realisation of the danger crept into his expression as Bucky reached the side of the bed.

Before the Emperor managed to call out for help, Bucky’s metal hand shot out, encircling the Emperor's throat with a grip of iron. His eyes widened in shock, "What is the meaning of this?" he croaked, his voice strained as he struggled against the unyielding grip.

Bucky’s voice was a low, menacing growl. "Why did you kill them?" he demanded. The Emperor’s face twisted into a mask of genuine confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” he said, his voice strained with bewilderment.

Eyes burning with an intensity that spoke of old wounds and unending fury, Bucky was in a trance-like state. His mind focused on the Emperor as the embodiment of the callousness that had devastated his life. To him, it mattered so little whether this version of the Emperor had committed the heinous acts or not. The knowledge that past him had once inflicted such horrors was enough to ignite Bucky’s rage.

“My wife,” Bucky growled, his voice cutting through the Emperor’s confusion with chilling clarity. The Emperor’s eyes widened further, a flicker of fear beginning to replace his initial disbelief. “Why did you kill her?,” Bucky continued, his tone carrying the heaviness of an unspoken pain.

The Emperor’s expression remained in a genuine concern, though it did little to mask his growing foreboding. “I never ordered anyone to lay hands on her,” he insisted, his voice cracking with a hint of desperation. “I would have remembered something like that.”

Bucky’s gaze remained unwavering, his anger as fiery as ever. The Emperor’s words, though spoken with a semblance of sincerity, only fueled Bucky’s fury. It wasn’t merely about this specific Emperor’s actions; it didn’t even matter if he had not done the deed yet.

It was about the realisation that such brutality happened once before. Much more atrocious to know that it had been sanctioned by someone in a position of power. The sense of betrayal ran deep, rooted in the knowledge that the cruelty was a part of a larger, systemic evil that had haunted Bucky’s past.

As the Emperor tried to reason with him, his terror and desperation were transparent. "I would never harm your wife," he protested weakly, his voice trembling with an echo of dismay. Bucky’s mind flashed with ghastly memories; the cold snow he rode through, the bloodied halls leading to their shared bedroom, the image of Y/N’s body maimed, his child lifeless. The horrific images fueled his rage.

"Oh, but you will." Bucky hissed, his anger boiling beneath the surface. His free hand drew a blade, the steel glinting with deadly intent. The Emperor's eyes were wide with horror; his pleas of defence were simply a string of meaningless words lost in the wind as Bucky’s resolve hardened.

With a swift, adept motion, the blade struck through the man’s throat. The Emperor gurgled; blood bubbling from the wound as his eyes widened in shock. Bucky’s face remained impassive, his cold eyes reflecting no mercy. He plunged the blade deeper, the Emperor’s feeble attempts to grasp Bucky’s arm proving futile.

Unfortunately for him, the first strike was not enough to quench the rage that burned within Bucky. He pulled the blade out and struck again. Again and again, the knife met its target, each jab driven by the anguish of countless painful memories. The bed beneath them soaked with the colour of crimson, the luxurious chamber now marred by the blood of its cruel occupant. The room filled with the grotesque sound of a life being extinguished, a gruesome symphony that echoed Bucky’s inner anarchy.

Bucky stood over the fallen ruler, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. As the adrenaline faded, Bucky’s vision suddenly began to blur, the edges of the room dimming into darkness. The world seemed to contract into a tunnel of darkness until a voice cut through the haze. “You really have to be that… brutal?” The voice was calm, yet filled with an air of reproach.

With his sight suddenly altered, Bucky turned towards the sound; the silhouette was unclear in his clouded vision, however he recognized the voice. “Steve,” he called out, his voice a low rasp.

Steve, the crown prince, stood in the doorway, his expression was weaving traces of concern and resignation. He took a step forward, the dim light catching the determination etched in his features. Tomorrow, he would be the new emperor, a role thrust upon him by necessity and circumstance.

Although Steve was one of the emperor’s blood; his only living male heir. His mother was not the empress but one of the many wives the emperor had taken. In the emperor's eyes, this made Steve unworthy of the crown, despite his lineage. This disdain had placed Steve in a precarious position, viewed as a threat rather than a successor.

In the past, Bucky and Wanda had seen Steve meet a tragic end, assassinated by the devout followers of the Emperor who refused to relinquish power. This time, Bucky and Wanda had approached Steve with a plan to overthrow the throne.

While withholding the truth of their origins, they convinced him to claim the crown for his own, knowing the kingdom already favoured him. The real challenge lay with the noble families, whose support was crucial. Over the past few months, Steve had skillfully manoeuvred through the intricate web of politics, winning their allegiance.

Meanwhile, Wanda had been executing a 'clean-up' operation at the magic tower, ensuring no loyalists of the emperor remained. By the time Bucky entered the emperor’s chambers, all potential threats had been neutralised. Soon, the kingdom would surely hear news of the youngest female master of the tower reigning in power.

“Hey, Buck. You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. Steve noticed the way Bucky’s eyes seemed to glaze over, staring into nothingness. Concern etched into his features, he took a step closer. Bucky blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision, but the blurriness persisted, leaving him disoriented.

As Bucky’s vision began to clear, he saw Steve’s concerned blue eyes staring back at him. “Yeah, just…” Bucky shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving the teleportation stone given to him by Wanda prior to the mission. His gaze fixed on the shimmering stone, the weight of his debt to the ancient magic pressed heavily on his mind; knowing the time to pay for it was drawing near. “…just missing my wife.”

Steve watched, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky crushed the stone in his hand, the stone's magic activated with a flash of deep red light, enveloping Bucky in its embrace, swallowing him into the abyss and back to his home, to Y/N.

Moments later, the warmth and chaos of the Emperor’s chambers vanished as the cold night air hit him as Bucky found himself on the balcony of his home. Through the transparent glass, he could see his room bathed in a faint light. Inside, Y/N was reading by the soft glow of a night lamp. The sudden swoosh of Bucky’s arrival drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze from the book to the source of the sound. Her eyes widened as she saw the dark silhouette standing on the balcony.

"Hello?" she called out softly, her voice quivering with fear. She set her book aside and stood up, her silk nightdress flowing around her like a whisper of moonlight. She walked to the balcony door, the rhythm of her heart quickened as anxiety creeped in.

As the door opened, the cold wind tickled a shivering goosebumps on her skin. She looked up at the man, her eyes widening in surprise and anxiousness. Bucky, on the other hand, remained still; his mask and dark attire made him look as if he were a ghost from her nightmares. His eyes, however, were unmistakable. The familiar blue gaze met hers, and she recognized him instantly.

Y/N’s initial fear melted away as she stepped closer towards him, "Why are you out here in the cold, love?" she asked gently, standing only inches from his foreboding self. The distinction between them was hardly difficult to spot: her soft, fragile appearance in her silk nightdress against his imposing, almost monstrous form in his combat gear.

Bucky stayed silent, his eyes trained on her as if trying to memorise every feature, every delicate line of her face. She reached up, her fingers slightly trembling to the cold, gently removing his mask. The emotionless facade that he put up crumbled almost instantly, his eyes softened as she smiled up to him. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble, "Come inside," she urged softly. "You're freezing."

He didn’t argue as he allowed himself to be led into the warmth of their room. Y/N’s hands moved with gentle resolution. As they reached the side of their bed, she began undressing him from his harsh, restrictive attire down to his shorts and sat him on the mattress behind him. She traced the scars on his body, each one a testament to the battles he had fought, and her fingers made their way up to his stubbled jaw, cupping his cheek tenderly.

"Bucky… you look so troubled." She noticed. "What's wrong, my love?" her voice filled with concern. She came to his side, sitting close as she spoke softly, “Tell me,” her eyes searched within his, “...please?”

Bucky took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the burden of the truth he was about to reveal. "Y/N," he began, his voice slow, as if he was afraid, "This... this isn't our first time living through this. Our marriage, our life together, it was supposed to be different.”

Everything that had been haunting him for the past months spilled out for Y/N to consume. He spoke of the first time he stood at the altar, the way he was clumsy and rough the first time he touched her, their awkward moments, and the ups and downs that became the foundation of their budding romance.

He told her about her pregnancy, the joy he felt from it, how she glowed with happiness, and the dreams they had for their child. He recounted his request for retirement, wanting to leave his life as a weapon behind to be with his family, to protect and cherish them.

But then he spoke of the horror that shattered his world. How he found her dead with their child, both victims of the Emperor’s cruelty. He described the devastation, the unbearable pain, and the crushing sense of failure. He had lost them both, and his heart had been torn apart. "I lost you once before. You and our child," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Bucky continued, his words pouring out in a rush. He spoke of Wanda, how she had given him a chance to come back, to change things, to save her, to save them. He told her about the sacrifices, the battles fought in the shadows, and the relentless drive to protect her and their unborn child. He described the nightmares that haunted him, the fear of failing again, and the desperate hope that this time, things would be different.

Yet, as he bared his entire soul to her, Bucky kept one critical detail shrouded in silence. He did not mention the true cost of altering time, the personal price he had to pay for this chance at redemption. The burden of that price, the debt to ancient magic that had exacted a toll on him, remained untold, a hidden weight that he bore alone. At least for now.

Y/N was silent, her mind racing to comprehend the enormity of his confession. It sounded impossible, yet there was a sincerity in Bucky's voice, a pain that was all too real. She thought back to the subtle hints in his behaviour, the way he seemed to know her so intimately, as if he had known her for a lifetime. She remembered the moments when he would finish her sentences, anticipate her needs before she even voiced them, and the way he looked at her with such profound love and fear, as if he was afraid she would disappear.

Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes as he reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “It’s true, Y/N. Every word. I’ve lived through this nightmare, and I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” However, Y/N’s silence scared him. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, terrified that she would reject his story, reject him. Bucky's tears fell freely now, landing on her skin like tiny droplets of despair. "Say something, please," he begged, his voice choking with emotion.

Y/N’s mind and heart were in turmoil, but something deep within her, something in her soul, told her to put her faith in him. Just like that, she believed him. Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he must have endured. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes searching in his ocean blues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you so soon, love,” she said softly, not knowing why her voice broke..

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened with relief, his tears flowing even more; raw and unfiltered. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she would vanish. “Y/N” he whispered against her hair, his voice was a sound of agony and respite.

Y/N’s own tears fell as she held him close. She didn’t fully understand the mechanics of time or the magic that had brought him back, but she knew one thing: she loved this man with all her heart, and she would do anything to ease his pain.

“Thank you for saving me.” she echoed, her voice soft but firm.

Their tears of sorrow began to shift into a more tender, fervent connection as their need for each other deepened. Bucky’s lips found Y/N’s in a searing, passionate kiss. Their tears mingled and cascaded down their cheeks as they lost themselves in the embrace. Each touch, each kiss, was imbued with an urgency to reaffirm their bond and erase the pain that had haunted him.

Every piece of clothes were thrown aside; discarded in their frantic desire to be closer. Bucky’s touch grew more intimate; hands moved to pin Y/N's hands above her head, pressing her wrists gently but firmly into the bed. His eyes, dark with desire and love, bore into hers.

“Let me see you, my dear. Please, let me see all of you,” Bucky whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he removed his hands from her wrists, roaming over Y/N’s body. His touch is a mix of reverence and desperation. He explored the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her hips, and the soft, supple skin that felt like a lifeline to him.

He trailed his lips down Y/N’s neck, savouring the softness of her skin, leaving a trail of heated kisses. His breath warmed her as he explored her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and lower, where his lips brushed against the delicate curve of her breasts. Each kiss was a worshipful caress, a testament to his adoration and need for her.

A simple nudge of his hips and Bucky sinks in, breathes caught in the air when he starts to move; “You feel so good, so tight around me.” His thrusts were slow, sensual yet deliciously deep. “I love you so much,” his declaration spread warmth all over heart, filling up every space possible; much like his huge, throbbing cock to her cunt. So full, so good. While he rocked his hips, Bucky’s lips trailed delicately on her cheek, “My dearest” he murmured watching the tears fall from the corner of her eyes, “My everything”.

Y/N, feeling the intensity of his love and the raw need in his embrace, responded with equal fervour. Her hands ardently moved over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the contours of his muscles tense and relax under her touch. She could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he clung to her as if she were his salvation.

Bucky’s calloused fingers slipped downwards, reaching to where their bodies were most connected. He found a grounding pleasure as he swirled soft circles on her sensitive clit; rubbing it the way he knew she loved. Y/N leaned into his touch, her body responding to his every movement. Her breaths came in short, heated whimpers as Bucky’s hands continued their exploration, his fingers grazing over her sensitive skin with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

Creating a slight distance between them, Bucky leaned back and revelled in the sight of her; what a view she was.

Her hair was messy in the most beautiful way, cascading around her face like a halo. Her hands gripped the sheets behind her, knuckles white, grounding herself in the intensity of the moment. Her body arched gracefully, a perfect curve that pushed her hips toward his in a silent plea for more. His fingers; now wet with her slick, continued to rub tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“There she is. So pretty for me, so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky murmured lowly, his voice filled with desire and awe.

“Bucky, please,” she whispered, her voice a plea, her legs around his waist tugging him closer.

Bucky found her shy desperation was seductive yet so innocently pure. “God, how am I so fucking lucky?” Bucky’s breath shuddered as he felt the way her pussy clenched in protest of his delay; his voice heavy with emotion as he moved against her, his eyes locked onto hers. The raw need in her voice, the way her body responded to his touch, made his heart swell with unrestrained desire.

The metal of his left hand found their way to her hips, guiding her with a gentle yet insistent touch as his fleshed finger worked on her clit. Despite the hard and hasten pace of his thrusts, their movements were synchronised, each grind was a need to chase that height of ecstasy.

The room was filled with their whispered breaths, their shared moans of pleasure, and the undeniable proof of their love. Their connection transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls, reaffirming the bond that had defied time and fate.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his voice raw and filled with affection as he held her close, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

“I love you, too, Bucky.” she replied, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings.

As they reached the peak of their high, their cries of passion were mingled with their whispered promises of devotion. Every touch was a declaration, every kiss a vow to never be separated again, and every warmth filling inside her was a possible gift of a future they looked forward to.

Afterward, they lay entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal, the room filled with a quiet sense of contentment and amour. Compared to prior, this time, their touch was gentle, almost innocent compared to the fervent passion earlier. They held each other, caressing skin, savouring the quiet moments of closeness. Bucky felt at ease, a sense of peace washing over him that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

Bucky’s perspective was filled with the sight of Y/N. He drank in every detail, from the curve of her lips to the softness of her cheeks, to the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. Her skin was a beautiful contrast to his own, delicate and smooth; pure and untainted. He traced his fingers lightly over her features, committing them to memory with a sense of awe and gratitude.

She yawned as fatigue creeped in, snuggling closer, tighter. Bucky brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You should sleep, sweetheart.” he whispered softly. Y/N smiled, her eyes already half-closed. “See you in the morning?” she murmured, her voice laced with drowsiness.

At that moment, Bucky’s vision began to blur again; worse than before. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the edges of his sight remained dark and unfocused. He felt a pang of fear but pushed it aside. The time had come, he realised. He kissed her forehead gently, revelling in the feel of her skin against his lips. “See you in the morning, my dear,” he replied, his voice steady despite the growing darkness in his vision.

He smiled down at her as she snuggled, his heart filled with joy and serenity. Bucky held onto her tightly, cherishing the moment, knowing that no matter what happened, their love had conquered time itself. He marvelled at the fact that against all odds, he had saved the woman he loved, and nothing could take that triumph away from him. In the end, even with his eyes still wide open, he let the encroaching blackness take over, surrendering to the inevitable with a heart full of love and a soul finally at peace.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: we have reached the end of the journey, i am sorry if you feel like the story is a bit rushed; i am not capable to commit more than 3 chapters, otherwise this will ended up being in a hiatus. i, however, can consider writing oneshots for this au somewhere in the future. meanwhile, leaving your comments behind would definitely make me happy!

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #medieval!bucky #winter soldier!bucky #duke!bucky #grumpy!bucky #soft!bucky

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strongheartneteyam · 2 years ago

Text

I wish I could

Chapter 4

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!curvy!human reader

Neteyam is aged up.

CW: size kink, breeding kink, praising kink, inexperienced Neteyam, Neteyam is possessive, creampie, masochism? idk if it counts, exophilia, angst, semi public sex, monsterfucker, yearning, a bit of fluff, loss of virginity, interspecies relationship, Neteyam being careful not to hurt reader too much with his big alien cock, Dom af Neteyam, sub reader, doggy style, Neteyam is a filthy boy, wet-panties-material lol

It can be read as a solo smut or as a part of I wish I could

Everytime a word in italic appears between parenthesis, it stands for the meaning of a na'vi word that was said before.

Example: yawne (beloved)

Chapter 3

♡

"You don't know for how long I waited to feel you like this, my human." Neteyam said out of breath. "To feel your fragile body so close to mine, your skin so warm... I dreamt about this moment for so long. I'm kinda shy to admit it but I would always touch myself alone at night thinking about ruining your little body and making you mine. And, Eywa! I would cum so hard."

Your whole body felt weak and on fire at the same time hearing the na'vi say those beautiful and filthy things to you, looking deep into your eyes. Nothing could be more perfect right now. You wanted to be his forever and you were so happy the na'vi mated for life. It meant Neteyam would never want to leave you. And Eywa knows you would die if he did. You loved him with your whole body and soul.

"I love how soft you are. Love your thick thighs, your squashy belly, these big breasts... Eywa, (y/n)..." he said with furrowed eyebrows, staring at your breasts, covered by the thin fabric of your brown cropped top, some cleavage in sight. "I love your big titties so much. I wanna suck on them so bad. I'm sorry if I sound too eager, I..."

"Don't say you're sorry. I love it. I love hearing you say how much you want me, 'cause I want you so much too. I love that you're so much taller than me. Love feeling at your mercy when you hold me like this." You said, looking into his beautiful big yellow eyes.

"You do, baby? You love how bigger I am than you?"

"Hmhmm" you moaned as an "yes", biting your bottom lip

"You want me to ruin your little hole like I always wanted to? To show you how much I need you and leave a wound between your tiny legs? You know I can manhandle you so easily and make you submit to me and all my desires, right?" He said, lust filling his eyes

"I want you so bad. I'm yours to take, Teyam." You said, with a mix of fear and excitement in your chest and feeling your pussy get wetter with every word he said

"Oh, my yawnetu..." (loved one)

His face softened and he kissed you passionately, so rough you could feel your lips getting red and bruised but you loved every single second of it

Neteyam was dominant and was really going to let his deepest desires consume your flesh but he was still the kind and caring Neteyam you had always known, so he felt his heart melt when you said "I'm yours to take" followed with the nickname that you came up with for him and only you would call him like that. Hearing you say "Teyam" was the sweetest melody to his ears.

He was fully erect already, he needed to be inside you.

Neteyam started kissing your lips in a delicate way but his breath started to falter and his lips started to devour yours, kissing you hard, moving his tongue on yours and he loved how wet and warm your mouth was. He bit your lower lip, making you feel his sharp fangs but not enough to hurt you, and then gave you one last kiss.

"I need you, yawntutsyìp." (little loved one) "Need to be inside of you now." Neteyam said, rubbing his hard cock in your core

You moaned at the friction. He was huge. You could feel it.

"I'm a bit afraid, Teyam. You must be so big." You said with puppy eyes that looked at him

Neteyam smiled and said:

"I think so. Specially since you're so small. But don't worry, my love. We will make it fit. And I'll be gentle at first. I would never wanna hurt you on purpose."

Those words calmed your nerves down a little but you still knew you were gonna go through pain. You were a virgin and the human women that lived in Pandora had told you it was normal to hurt when they would lose their virginity with their human partners, can you imagine losing your human virginity to a na'vi male? His member was enormous compared to the one of a human man.

Neteyam was a virgin too and he was also a little nervous. He wanted to prove to you he could make you feel really good and he hated that he had to hurt you first. But there was nothing he could do about it other than try to be really careful with your small entrance. Thinking of how tiny you are, how tight you would surely feel around his cock made precum start dripping from his big swollen tip.

Neteyam started to take your top off and threw it somewhere. He took one of your breasts on one hand and started to kiss the other one. He licked your hard bud and sucked on it. That made your pussy wetter than it already was. He massaged the boob that was in his hand, squeezing it hard from time to time. He then started licking and suckling on your other nipple. He left little kisses all over both your breasts and, after that, Neteyam went down kissing your stomach, licking and biting the skin, making you whimper at the pain his fangs provoked. It was a good, fucking amazing kind of pain. He used his big fingers to untie the knot that kept your shorts closed, some inches below your bellybutton. You raised your hips, helping him move the small piece of clothing down your legs and then throw it near your head.

He positioned his head between your legs, kissed the upper part of your pussy and it made your body hair stand on end.

Neteyam opened your legs further and breathed deep, smelling your arousal.

"Your pussy smells so good, my human. It's just like your scent gets me in my rut period."

Your mouth slightly opened as you stared at him like he was the most beautiful creature in the Universe. And for you, he truly was.

Neteyam licked your entrance from the bottom to your clitoris. Your pussy clenched at the feeling. Neteyam breathed deep with the sight and started sucking your pussy lips. He would lick it too, tasting you with hunger. You moaned when he started sucking on your clit. He then licked again and again at your already so sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Aaah, Teyam..."

"You taste delicious, yawntutsyìp. I love tasting you, feeling how wet you are for me."

Neteyam spent some more time eating you out but it was too much for him. He was humping on the floor, needing some friction, trying to get some release.

"I need your pussy right now, my mate. Please, I'm so hard it hurts."

"Okay." You breathed deep, with furrowed eyebrows

Neteyam got on his knees and took his loincloth off. Your mouth opened a little when you realized how big and thick he was.

He grabbed his cock in his hand and positioned it at your entrance. It was so big compared to your small pussy that it seemed like it was gonna rip you apart trying to fit.

Neteyam pushed his tip in carefully.

You gasped

"Just relax for me, paskalin." (honey) "Please" He said

You tried to do as he said as you felt his length and girth stretch your pussy. Your eyes filled with tears as you started to feel a stinging kind of pain. Tears were running out of your eyes when Neteyam said:

"I'm so sorry it hurts, darling. I'm being as gentle as I can."

"It's okay. It's not your fault I'm so small compared to you." You said

After some time the pain went away and pleasure started to kick in. Neteyam was thrusting slowly and carefully into you but when he saw that you stopped crying and started to breath deep, in and out, pleasure all over you, he sped it up.

"I wish I could fit it all, baby, but you're so small" He said "But I'm not complaining. I love how small you are. My tiny human. All mine to fuck. I love your little cunt." he moaned "Love it so much, baby" another moan, louder this time, came out of his mouth

You couldn't say anything, you could only concentrate on how good his big blue cock felt inside your pussy. Wet sounds took over the place.

You started to moan more and more as his thrusts became harder inside you

Neteyam flipped you over with ease and put you on your knees so he could fuck you in doggy style. He put his cock back inside your pussy

"You love your mate's big cock, don't you, my human?" Neteyam said thrusting deep inside of you while you moaned loudly at the feeling

"I do, Teyam. I love it so much." You spoke, pleasure taking over your mind

"Do you want your man to give you a baby? I wanna get you pregnant so much, my love. Wanna spill my seed inside your small womb and watch it grow with our baby inside of you. I don't even know if that's possible for us to conceive but, Eywa... imagining you so big and swollen, getting much bigger than our women do, carrying my child inside of you, makes me wanna try. I bet you would look so hot like that. Our baby would be so heavy for your little body that I would probably have to carry you around in the last months of your pregnancy. And I would take you here to the forest and fuck you so hard any chance I got. I bet I would get many with all the carrying you around I would have to do."

"Teyam..." You whispered "Do you really mean what you're saying?"

"I do" He smiled "I thought you might wanna try it with me, even if it would maybe be dangerous for your health." He said, sounding a little sad, thrusting into you slower but holding you tighter, like he was so afraid to even think about losing you.

"Love, I really want you to get me pregnant" You breathed

"Really, my yawnetu?" He said to your ear and you felt his warm breath

"Yes. I know nobody ever tried it before and it might put me at risk but I wanna try. Maybe Eywa will help us."

"Ahh, baby..." Neteyam cooed and started fucking you fast again "I've always wanted to give you a child. I know how much you love na'vi babies and they seem to love you back."

"Then make a little na'vi baby on me, Teyam. Fuck, I want it so much. Wanna feel your child moving inside of my womb"

Neteyam felt a rush of adrenaline come through his body hearing you say that and you could feel his cock twitch inside of you and that was just so fucking good.

"I will, my human. I'm gonna get you pregnant real good. You're my mate, you're gonna carry my child and everybody will know that I fucked your little cunt and came inside of you. It will remind all the na'vi males that stare at you that you belong to me and me only." The tip of his huge cock was hitting your womb because of how deep he was fucking you.

Neteyam fucked you like an animal and he couldn't think of anything other than breeding his little human toy. He was gonna fuck you all the time when you're pregnant. The thought alone drove him wilder and his thrusts became sloppier. He heard you moaning really loud and felt so proud he could make his mate feel such pleasure. He grunted and pronounced deep loud moans. You felt like paradise and the sweet sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his swollen cock just seemed to fuel the fire inside him.

You were drowning in the sound of his big blue balls hitting your pussy vigorously. That was so erotic it had your pussy clenching and Neteyam could feel it, so much it made him moan

"Aaahh, my human... How can your little cunt feel so good? Fuck, I need to fill you up to the brim with my seed. Do you want it, baby?"

"I do, my mate. I want it so much. Give me a baby, please." You breathed, picturing yourself carrying Neteyam's little na'vi baby inside your womb

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" Neteyam said, thrusting hard into you and his arm holding you tight, under your boobs, to keep you as close to him as he could. The tip of his tail was wrapped around your arm and you loved how intimate and possessive that felt.

Just a few thrusts later Neteyam came inside you. You could feel his hot liquid going into your womb. He came a whole lot, as the na'vi do, the reason why being they're way bigger than human males.

Neteyam still held you, letting more of his weight rest into you but just a bit, otherwise his big body would crush yours. He was breathing heavy into the skin of your neck. When he finally had his composure back, he kissed your neck tenderly two times and then rubbed his face in your sensitive skin, like a cat.

"Nga yawne lu oer“ (I love you) He spoke, out of breath

"Nga yawne lu oer" You said back "So much, Teyam."

He came out of you and his cum started dripping down your thighs. Dear Eywa, that felt insanely filthy but amazing at the same time.

Neteyam helped you lie on your back and lied by your side, supporting himself with one arm resting at the floor so he could rise his upper body a little bit and look at you.

"Oeyä." (mine) "My mate, my love, my human. Forever. We're united until eternity." Neteyam pronounced those words like a prayer. You could tell it meant everything to him.

Life was perfect now. You no longer felt lost. You belonged somewhere, you belonged to Neteyam now. He was your family. Your mate. And you were asking Eywa so hard that she would bless the both of you with a child. That would make you the happiest girl in Pandora.

☆•.°☆•.°☆•.°

Forgive me Lord for I have sinned a lot writing this chapter. 🤠 These big blue aliens turn me into a hoe

Comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome 💙💗

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