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sgt-tombstone · 22 days ago

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When Soap caught a glimpse of the red and white app on Ghost’s phone, he wasn’t sure he saw it correctly. It was the quickest flash, out of the corner of his eye, in a dark and crowded pub the night after one of the longest ops they’d been on in a long time. Surely, it wasn’t…

But then he saw it again, a few days later, when Ghost pulled out his phone to message Price about something inane, Soap sitting next to him like always. And there it was: Clue Period & Cycle Tracker.

He knew he’d recognized it the first time; it was the same app that his sister used when she and her husband had been trying for their second child, and he’d know the app logo anywhere with how often she’d shoved her phone in his face, complaining about fertility windows and PMS. But, contrary to popular belief, John MacTavish knew when to keep his mouth shut, so he didn’t mention it, despite the questions crawling up his throat like ants.

That didn’t mean he didn’t acknowledge it at all, though. It was a little hard to come to terms with, his hulking lieutenant being trans, but it didn’t change how he felt about him, the smoldering lust (and love) that he felt just by being in the same room as him. He needed to show Simon that it didn’t bother him, that he’d be supportive of him no matter what. That he would love him no matter what.

So, in typical MacTavish fashion, he started talking. Small stuff, at first, comments about how fucking stupid anti-trans laws were or how he’d always prioritized the people he loved over whatever was in their pants. It was awkward at times, and maybe a little heavy-handed, but he was trying his best. All it gained him, though, were confused looks from everyone around him, Ghost included. At one point, Gaz even pulled him aside and pointedly asked if there was anything he wanted to tell him, but Soap didn’t dare out his lieutenant, so he stammered through a denial and beat a hasty retreat.

Maybe he needed to be more explicit. The on-store base sold the bare minimum of period supplies, and he didn’t know anything about Ghost’s cycles, so he grabbed what he vaguely remembered his sister mentioning, along with some chocolate, pain killers, and a heating pad. It wasn’t much, woefully inadequate and almost comically small in the only box he had in his room, but… he was trying his best.

He knocked on Ghost’s door that night, box under his arm and heart in his throat. When Ghost opened the door, he practically shoved the box into his chest, his face burning with embarrassment, and Ghost leveled him with a questioning look as he waved him inside. The last thing Soap wanted to do was have this conversation, but he stepped in anyway, heart hammering as Ghost closed the door behind him.

“What is this, Sergeant?”

For once, Soap didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was a bad idea. How did one tell their superior officer that they were aware of and fully supported their gender identity, despite said superior officer never having actually told them about it? They didn’t, that’s how. Except that’s exactly what Soap had to do, somehow.

“I, uh,” he stammered. Great start. “I just wanted tae-“

“Why are you giving me pads, Soap?”

Soap wanted the floor to swallow him whole and leave nothing but a soot stain on the floor to indicate his swift descent into hell. Ghost had opened the box and was looking over it at him, one eyebrow raised in bafflement.

“I just,” Soap said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Was it hot in here? He felt sweat drip down the valley of his spine as Ghost continued to fix him with that same expectant stare. “I just thought ye might-“

“Do you think I have a period, Soap?”

It wasn’t said with an air of disgust, or even derision, just earnest curiosity, but it prickled something defensive in Soap anyway, and he rushed to explain himself.

“Ah saw ye had an app on yer phone and it’s the same one my sister uses so I figured ye were trans and just hidin’ it well so I just…”

He drifted off, words petering out when he registered Ghost’s chuckles. In fact, he was full on laughing, curled slightly over the box still in his arms, one hand raised to his face, pulling off his mask to wipe at his eyes. Hot rage swept through Soap at the sound.

“You bastart,” he cried. “Ah was just trying tae be supportive and yer laughin’ at me-“

“I’m sorry, Soap,” Simon said, schooling his expression slightly, but Soap could still see mirth dancing in his eyes. It was a good look on him, and it was hard to hold onto his anger in the face of it. “I’m feeling very supported, thank you.”

Hard, but not impossible. Soap glared at him through narrowed eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If yer gonna mock me, I’ll take the box back, ye bampot,” he muttered, but Simon pulled the box closer to his chest, protective of its contents.

“It was a gift, Sergeant,” he said, shaking his head. “No take-backs.”

“What are ye, five?”

“Thirty-five,” Simon corrected, a glimmer of mischief in his smile. “And not trans, either. Though I’m sure every trans person is very appreciative of your wholehearted support.”

“Fuck ye,” Soap said without heat. The tension drained out of his shoulders and he slumped slightly where he stood in the middle of Simon’s room. “What’s the app for, then?”

“It’s to keep track of the side effects of my medications,” Simon shrugged, putting the box on his desk and stepping back over to his bed, but not before Soap noticed him pocketing the chocolate. “My psychiatrist recommended it. Works well, even if it gets confused that I never actually have a period. Good for keeping track of trends, though.”

And that… Made sense, all things considered. He knew that Simon took a small handful of pills everyday when they were on base, medications to help with his anxiety and other PTSD-related symptoms, but he’d never thought about the side effects that they might have. His confusion must have shown because—in a jarring moment of deja vu—he abruptly had a phone being shoved, albeit more gently than his sister had, in his face. He immediately recognized the app’s calendar, tracking various symptoms in colored tabs on each day. Most of them were orange, having to do with mood or sleep or energy levels, but some were blue or green, and he wasn’t sure what those were for. None of them, notably, were red.

“Oh,” he said dumbly, a little shocked at how forthcoming Simon was being about all of this. “Ah guess… Ah can take the stuff back then.”

“Don’t you dare,” Simon said quickly, a little teasingly. He put his phone back in his pocket and stepped unsubtly between Soap and his desk. “When your sergeant shows up at your door with chocolate and pain killers, he’s not allowed to leave with them, too.”

“Surely ye don’t need the pads, though, LT,” he said, cheeks heating with embarrassment again.

“I’m sure they’ll come in handy the next time you get shot in the field,” Simon smirked, dodging Soap’s badly-aimed smack with a chuckle.

“Ahm sorry,” Soap said quietly, not letting himself get swept up in Simon’s good mood. “Ah didnae mean tae assume-“

“Johnny,” Simon said quietly, suddenly in his space, his bare hand rising to tilt Soap’s chin up, forcing him to meet Simon’s eyes. They were soft and genuine where they bore into Soap’s, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat. “Thank you. You were wrong, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Yeah?” Soap said, embarrassingly breathless. When Simon nodded, he risked placing his hands on Simon’s hips, heat searing through the black fabric of his shirt.

“You noticed what no one else did and tried to be supportive the only way you knew how,” Simon continued, gaze still pining Soap in place, and Soap really needed him to step back or else he’d be very aware of exactly what effect his voice had on Soap.

“I always will, sir,” Soap breathed, and then abruptly stopped breathing at the darkened look in Simon’s eyes.

“You always take care of me, Johnny,” he rumbled, and the dam broke. Within a heartbeat, their lips met, a slick slide of teeth and tongues and pent-up desire, their hands sweeping across each other’s bodies, touching everything in reach. Soap felt one hand tangle at the base of his mohawk, the other splayed across his lower back, a radiating heat diffusing across his skin. His own hands were clenched in the back of Simon’s shirt, holding him as close as possible as he pushed himself up and forward, as far into Simon as he could get with layers of clothes and skin and muscle between them.

After an indeterminate amount of time—Soap couldn’t have guessed minutes or hours for all the money in the world—Simon gently broke them apart with a palm on his cheek, his hand so big that it covered the entire side of Soap’s face, and the thought made him whine even as he let himself be pushed away. They didn’t go far; Simon pressed his forehead against Soap’s, both of them gasping each other’s air as they caught their breath.

“Fuck, sir,” Soap panted, eyes pressed shut as he struggled to process what had just happened.

“Want to find out what exactly you were wrong about, Johnny?” Simon asked. Soap looked up at him, eyes flying open in confusion, then glanced down when Simon tilted his head with a smug smile. In the scant space between them, he could see the clear tent in Simon’s pants, and he couldn’t have stopped the moan that ripped out of his throat if he’d tried.

“Fuck, sir,” he repeated, looking up again, his eyes dancing with excited lust.

“I was hoping to,” Simon replied, and his laughter echoed around the room as Soap shoved him down onto the bed, his grip on his sergeant pulling them flush.

Later, as Soap laid on Simon’s bed, sprawled and strung out, the scent of sex heavy in the air, his limbs even heavier, he couldn’t help but to be glad, for the first time in his life, that he’d been wrong.

Read it on ao3 here!

#did I download clue just to write this? no comment #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #tombstone's epitaphs #tombstone's ficlets #long post #unedited

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ladythornofrivia · 9 months ago

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Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part One)

word count: 2,733

author’s note: i’m sorry that i didn’t post much stories, as I’ve been reblogging and changing themes in my profile. i’m trying my best, but I’ll make up for it.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

There hasn’t been a day that you never left your homeland. All in prosperity. All in solitude, all in mindful thoughts that even the castle walls were unable to perceive. Oldtown is known for the oldest kingdom within Westeros.

We light the way, those are the words from House Hightower, a tall, silver tower with a green light of flames atop. Members of the Hightower court are known to be proud and resilience. Perhaps too greedy to your taste. Less fickle to their needs, their desires, their secrets, their ambition.

All minds think alike, as they said. But your mind is unalike from theirs.

There hasn’t been a single day where your life change—steady as it goes. But when your older sister, Alicent, sent a letter to you from a raven fled from miles, you instantly ripped the seal and unveiled her letters, written in neat cursive. In the days where you can recall that Alicent taught you to read and write, before accompanying your father, Otto Hightower, to aid the ailing king and his throne.

In King’s Landing, where Aegon has set and had trees felled after his conquest in Westeros. The stories of dragonlords and ladies has caught you into a slighted dot of peculiarity. But with your father, you knew that your father wanted more than being as the Hand of the King. Like any folk in Oldtown, he’s all in the same cloak of mind and heart as the rest. The only difference is he has resided in King’s Landing with the Targaryens, warming the throne with Alicent’s political stead.

With you, as Alicent’s half-sister, one thing you adored about her is her resilience, no matter how the power struggle may have been, Alicent held her head high, it inspired you to do the same cause, not for the greater good, but for you to steady your heart. With Alicent’s brown eyes, anyone would be easily swayed at her beauty. With your eyes like glowing water, the subjects were to assume that you’re either a sea creature in the ocean, or have been reincarnated as a woman. Common folks assumed that you’re a goddess sent by Maiden herself. But others theorized you’re born in the sacred pond within the forest.

Despite the nonsensical rumors, you carried out your duties dulled within life, but with your brother, Gwayne Hightower, entered in your chambers without a warning.

“Sister!”

“Good heavens, you gave me a fright,” you screeched, hand clutching over your chest.

“A word from the raven,” he resumed, pulling out the letter. “It’s from our dear sister.”

She hasn’t written you a letter for months. Understanding of her high authoritative position, thankfully enough you aren’t the queen. You couldn’t bear to think about gifting children into the world from your maidenhood.

“Alicent!” Departing from the chair, you snatched the letter from Gwayne’s hand and ripped the letter open, straightening the scrolled paper.

My dearest sister,

I regret to inform you that I cannot visit in the Oldtown due to personal circumstances that our father has been trifled with the matters in King’s Landing. As queen, I must fully prioritize my duties and smite the inconsiderate undutiful thought of others. My dear husband, King Viserys, has been unwell as of late, growing slower day by day, but still the same man who loves his histories and shed upon endless favoritism on his daughter and her plain-featured sons, as well his miniatures he rarely finished. As of this moment, we are preparing the feast for the upcoming celebration. Misery and dread and politics has been my company, and I’d be happy if you come to King’s Landing and stay here for more than a month. I also send Gwayne and his men to escort you back. I hope you still have the new dresses and jewels the seamstress sorted to your taste; I always know that you hated attire that itched your flesh or suffocating. Words cannot expressed about how I miss the sweetness of your smile and laughter. We shall meet soon.

Signed,

Alicent Hightower

Jumping with joy, your body lunged at Gwayne, locking him into a tight hug, slightly hopping in place with a big grin stretched onto your lips.

“Have my things ready, brother,” you said, hasting, forgetting about the silks and fabrics in your hands.

“But you need more time. You’ll stay in King’s Landing as our queenly sister instructed.”

“Send the maids, then. I can’t do this alone.”

“You mustn’t make haste!” Gwayne shouted as you ran off, never minding the silks on the ground only for him to pick up.

“The sooner the better,” you shouted back.

~~~

The trailed ship took no more than three days to reach King’s Landing. Alicent hasn’t mentioned anything particular to the celebration. But you have come to acknowledge that Alicent lessened the details.

By the time the ships rested at the shore, you rushed down to the clear path and greeted your father, who was rather cold and emotionless. Nevertheless, you gave the courtesy of shallow inclination of your neck bent down. Though your heart shattered at the motionless greeting; a chilled wind spiraled on your thickened sleeves.

“Father,” you said, grinning ear to ear.

“Queen Alicent awaits,” is all he said, then left without abiding on you.

“But—”

“Ser Gwayne, escort this lady in the Red Keep,” he wasn’t saying it with care.

This lady.

Months without communication and souvenirs, you’d ought it’ll soften your father’s resolve regarding onto the estrangement.

Another clash of heartbreak has struck again. But it comes as no surprise.

Both of you hadn’t spoke since of his second wife—your mother’s—passing.

As numb as it may be, the small pang in your heart resolved again as Gwayne Hightower escorted you to the high steeps close, reaching the royal grounds of Red Keep.

~~~

Infiltrating from climbing the steps until reaching the indoors, the green queen appeared.

Your sister.

“Alicent,” you rushed and clung her to embrace.

“Sister, how good of you to come,” Alicent replied.

The halls greeted you in cold and dreaded air clinging onto your sleeves, goosebumps flooded over your skin, the thick air of candles and torches has impaled your stomach. You didn’t like this feeling. These halls, darkened in heralds of statues and stars that your pupils recognizant.

Faith of the Seven.

Hightowers held their religion in the highest regard, while you, don’t cherish the ideologies of the religion, filled with fanaticism and hypocrisy. Even Targaryens have the queerest customs, of marrying brother to sister, relative to relative since Aegon I. It dire consequences of genetics and birth, and the fruition of a child birth into an unshakable world of politics and desires. According to the Citadel, in secret debate, those who are born of incest are nothing but sort of monsters lurking, a defect to a bloodline.

The Targaryens disagree—couldn’t care less, of course. As you often heard of keeping the bloodline pure.

Bloodline pure. People speculated that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Thus their words ‘Fire and Blood’ is in order. In Valyria, their source is magic and dragons, long before volcanic eruptions swept the lands and dragons into ashes. The last Targaryens resided in Westeros, and thus, their last kind is dwindling, hence creating pure bloodline. As theatrically hysterical as it is, you trudged along the halls.

“It has been so long since I saw you last,” Alicent began.

“It has, but we rarely sent letters as of late.”

“Being a queen is no simple task. Our father’s ambition has gotten stronger.”

“Your father,” you said bitterly.

“My dear sister,” Alicent resumed, her voice soothed. “Father is doing his best to stabilize the realm.”

“Cold, cruel and calculated,” you answered. “Your strength and dutiful as queen is one of the things I admire about you. But, sister, it feels as if my existence is no longer needed. I feel as if I’m useless. My mother received no love from your father.”

The doe-eyed look in Alicent’s eyes protruding. “Sister, I—“”

“Half-sisters,” you reminded. “Everyone thought I was some sort of creature that shouldn’t belong in the realm. I’m no fool; I could hear everyone whisper, even closed doors.”

“Creature or not, you’re still a Hightower. We share the same blood. Nothing will ever change between you and I.”

“But your father will never accept me,” you replied.

Alicent clasped her hands onto yours. “The next time we see each other, I’ll be visiting the Oldtown.”

“You said that the last time on our previous letters,” you chimed. “Let him stabilize the realm alone.”

“That is why you’re here. I needed time apart from the council and subjects,” Alicent reasoned. “Men are often ambitious with their politics and trifling over gold than their wives.”

“It appears so,” you agreed, huffing.

Ironically, Alicent served men, and still is. First Jahaerys, then Otto, then Viserys. Though you wouldn’t so recklessly give your personal opinion away to Alicent.

“We have yet to explore the grounds. We must rest at the gardens. I know how much you love staying in the gardens.”

Your cheeky smile was showing. “I do.”

Alicent squeezed your hand. “Let us be off. It’s considered bad luck if we let our food grow cold.”

“Never knew that it involves bad luck.”

“I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

Not once, Alicent answered.

~~~

“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent said, indicating the spare chair, and watched you sat with ease, eyeing the lavish outdoors where the Weirwood stood as main view.

“Quite nice out,” you complimented.

This was Alicent meant when she said gardens.

“I chose this spot for a reason,” Alicent said as the servants settled the meal over the table—bowed and left. And the last servant entered, placing a stacked candied almonds and candied plums on a gold platter, alongside of Dornish wine.

Alicent watched your eyes lit up.

“I took the liberty of having the kitchen staff ready for your sweet-tooth,” she clarified.

“You know me well, sister.” You grinned.

“My lady,” a soothing masculine voice said behind you.

“Ser Criston,” Alicent addressed, glancing. “I’m occupied as of this moment.”

“There has been urgent matters regarding to your son.”

Puzzled, Alicent spoke with, “Which son?”

Appalled, your eyes darted at her. On the other hand, you never retain information from Alicent.

“Aegon,” Criston answered, eyes turning away. “I’m afraid his excursions have rather been…” Then his dark brown eyes flicked to yours, his mouth opened, choosing his words carefully.

“We’ll speak no more of it,” Alicent pleaded. “I’m under the liberty of entertaining my sister at the moment. Do ignore Aegon’s excursions for now.”

Somewhere in between the lines, you knew Alicent’s calm demeanor struck hard when the excursions take place, wrath kept within, as you read between Alicent’s lines furrowed on her forehead. Ser Criston glimpsed at you and bowed before withdrawing from the outdoors.

“My apologies,” Alicent said to you in a dreaded voice. “The excursions in the daylight hour upon King’s Landing hasn’t ended.”

“I never knew you had a son,” you said, munching on the candied almonds.

Alicent swallowed the contents of the food. “I mentioned it once before in the letter. That I was having a babe in my belly.”

You pondered for a moment. It was back when Alicent married Viserys and carried a child in her.

“But you never mentioned that it’s a son,” you commented.

“But I’m sure you heard Aegon’s name the moment he arrived into the world.”

Your teeth clenched. “I can assure you I did.” The Oldtown spoke of Aegon in high regards, but as you grew older, you never hear much of Aegon’s doings, hoping to meet your nephew, you waited, but as usual, you sister never once sent letters to offer you an invite.

“Things have been hectic for the past years, and I doubt that’ll cease. With the Iron Throne empty and with all that it stands, we’re keeping the place intact with politics and debate,” Alicent reasoned.

You stayed in silence.

“If you would like,” Alicent continued, “I would be happy to take you to the gallery. The Red Keep has been nothing but a dread. I shall escort you and give you a tour to the Red Keep unless you want someone else to—”

“No, I’d be thrilled if you were to accompany me,” you paused, then said, “sister.”

Alicent gently beamed at that.

~~~

When you and Alicent both went inside the Red Keep, the royal subjects and guards bowed before the green queen as their eyes lingered onto yours, and an incoherent of whispers were passed to your ears.

The sister of the green queen.

And as you ascended the staircases, from there, you saw the shaded eyes of violet and curled hair—a young girl, a few years younger than you.

“Mother, have you seen my—” The girl’s youthful stare darted to yours, backing away gradually.

“This is my sister, (y/n), your aunt,” Alicent introduced. “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter,” Alicent said to you.

“A pleasure.” As you made an inclination to your neck, smiling to the princess as you hadn’t realized that the others accompanied none other by two young men behind Helaena, both with Targaryen features.

Your heart stopped—leapt with warmth—when you first glanced at the tall prince with gold, lithe hair as his other eye covered with eyepatch.

“These are my other sons…” Alicent said, searching for the third son with a slight frown on her features. “Where is Aegon?”

“Drunk as usual,” Daeron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“That blasted fool…” Alicent hissed, then smiled merrily in a way to appease herself. “I hope you and Lady (y/n) would get along.”

“Yes, I remember now! You’re that boy—that cupbearer in the council!” you said to Daeron.

Daeron beamed. “I am proud to serve my mother’s family in Oldtown. Ashamed we never met circumstances in the Reach, yet here we are!” he chuckled. “For my dear father’s name day contained in private ceremony, I’m glad you came.”

You sensed the sarcasm in the word “father”, but shrugged it off.

The dread of unwanted unwelcome washed away with glee. “Indeed. I shall look forward to the festivities.”

Aemond lifted and placed his kiss upon the back of your hand. A kiss placed with gentle fire ignited your dulled soul, envision with flames of blush blaring your dewy cheeks. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

Breath caught in your throat, eyeing on his hand still lingering his intertwine fingers to your skin. “Likewise, my prince…”

For the first time in your life, the gentleness of a dragon has captured your heart and soul.

As for Aemond, with the slighted news of your presence, there’s nothing more than mere maiden who needs to be soiled with his perversions trapped and coiled and enflamed in between his legs. When he first laid his gaze on you, he pictured your flushed skin wrapped with his own, his lips captured yours as his presence trapped into your mind for eternity. But alas, with a wandering thought just now, it wasn’t like him. He mustn’t be capricious and avarice on the spot.

With your grand arrival, Aemond had already decided you’ll become his.

One day at the time, he reminded himself.

“It’s unusual for you to be courteous to someone,” Alicent commented.

“I never wish to scare anyone with my presence, mother,” Aemond said. “It is my duty as a prince to make our special guest comfortable.”

A hot tingle between your legs stirred as you eyed on him—on his lips—how rolled off words with his tongue, finding yourself imagining at the thought of your nephew tasting your folds as you ride him, warming the bed—riding him whilst lace and corset of your precious dress torn apart by his own rugged and young hands.

“He’s only being courteous like Prince Daeron,” you noted, clearing your throat. “Everyone must fulfill their role to the realm. We mustn’t decay our customs to rudeness.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed at your flushing features whilst you looked at Alicent in the eye, you speak with assurance yet your body wavered, dying for your hungered coil in you—the scorch caged within your dress to be set free.

You cannot fool me, my princess, he thought.

In the end, nobody can fool a dragon like him.

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grlsinterrupted · 1 month ago

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i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y’know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

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rottngdeer · 6 months ago

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Hiii 💗 i also have an NBC Hannibal request, if that's okay

Uhh so maybe an imagine where the reader has been sa'd before in her previous relationship so she's kind of hesitant to go further with Hannibal when they start dating. One night while making out, Hannibal maybe steps a little out of line and that puts reader into an anxiety attack. But he calms her down and reassures that he will always prioritize her safety and consent and that he loves her 🥹

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Female!Reader

Contents/Warnings || Anxiety attack, some details and mentions of SA

Gif found on pinterest from the user sydney14well

You had only been dating Hannibal for a few months now, and everything had been wonderful. He was such a gentleman, and understanding about your boundaries and past, especially your past experiences with sexual assault. Your previous boyfriend was terrible to you, abusive and manipulative. He overstepped every boundary you had, often forcing you past your comfort zones and making you do things you never wanted to do, and pushing you into sexual acts that were only pleasurable for him. The breakup was long and drawn out thanks to him, and it only made you feel worse mentally.

The whole relationship put you off of dating for two years until you met Hannibal, and things just felt right with him. You were grateful to have Hannibal as your boyfriend, and in your life at all, but despite his kindness and respect towards you, you were still hesitant to go further than kissing him. He was careful and diligent with not making you uncomfortable, wanting you to enjoy every moment with him without being reminded of your past relationship.

About six months into dating, you found yourself in Hannibal’s house, having a dinner date with an array of food that Hannibal had prepared for the two of you. It was a calm night filled with good conversation, good food, good wine, good everything. You both made the decision that you would stay the night with him, not wanting you to drive with any alcohol in your system. It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend the night once in a while, being able to comfortably sleep beside him without anything handsy happening.

The two of you eventually ended up sitting on the edge of his bed, a heated make-out taking place. The amount of wine you had was making you a little more relaxed than usual while doing this, up until you felt Hannibal’s hand. It rested on your knee for a moment before you felt it slowly slide up your thigh. Hannibal had only ever touched your face and shoulders, never venturing lower than that. Your fight or flight kicked in, and you quickly shoved his hand away, jumping back a bit on the bed and almost falling off.

Hannibal stopped immediately, “Y/N..” He began, but he was cut off seeing tears begin to fall down your face. You sat against the headboard while covering your face with your hands, remembering everything your ex had ever done to you. Hannibal stayed calm, whispering that he was apologetic about what he had done, and telling you to breathe and asking if you needed him to do anything for you to help. He didn’t touch you, giving you space on the bed for you to calm down.

As you calmed, sniffling and breathing heavily, Hannibal spoke up, “It won’t happen again, Y/N, I promise. Your comfortability is my top priority, I just got a little carried away,” His voice was soft and loving. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

You let out a long sigh, finally being able to breathe normally again, “I’m okay, it just made me… remember some things,” You rub your face tiredly, “I’m sorry I freaked out like that…”

Hannibal shakes his head, “Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He assures you, “Would you like me to run you a bath to relax?”

“Yes, thank you..” You watch as he rises from the bed, standing in front of you for a moment, “We don’t have to do anything, ever, if you aren’t comfortable with it. And I will always respect whatever you choose,” He says, giving you a comforting smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

You watch him go, wondering how you ended up with such a caring man after such a terrible one.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x y/n #hannibal x you

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butchdiaz · 7 months ago

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to open up my arms and give it all to you

2.5k ; buck comes out to chris, chris diagnoses him with bisexuality, and the buckley-diaz family is the most family-shaped family ever.

It should be weird, is the thing – Tommy dropping him off at the Diaz house for dinner. But he didn't even bat an eye when Buck said he couldn't do Saturday night because Eddie was attempting to cook a new recipe and Buck had promised to be there to try it. He had just nodded thoughtfully, like prioritizing dinner with a friend over a date wasn’t weird and said, "I’ll just take you out in the afternoon instead." And that was that. Buck has never had a partner like this, someone makes him feel equally valued in both their own life and Eddie and Christopher’s. It's kind of dizzying. They had a flying lesson today – though the word "lesson" quickly became irrelevant when Buck got too distracted by the views of the city and Tommy’s competence to do anything but hold his hand about it over the gearshift. Tommy mentioned something about yoga, which got Buck started on a rant about one of the PTA moms at Chris's school, and how she always wears head to toe lululemon and constantly hits on Eddie despite Eddie very clearly shutting her down every time. And her cupcakes are definitely store bought, which is totally fine, but she acts like she made them from scratch. And she never has gluten free options. It's about five minutes of this before Buck realizes how long his mouth has been moving and he snaps it shut, suddenly self-conscious about how much he just rambled on about going to school bake sales with Chris and Eddie, and thinking that Tommy will probably find that very weird. But then he looks over, and Tommy’s smiling – the smile that causes his whole face to crinkle up in a way that makes Buck’s heart do backflips in his chest. He places a warm, solid hand on Buck's thigh and asks, "Does she at least bring peanut-free options?" And Buck says, "No!" and they both laugh and the sun shines through the glass onto Tommy’s face as his nose scrunches up and Buck's stomach swoops, only partially due to the fact that they are thousands of feet in the air.

read more on ao3!

tags <3 @goldenbcnes @chronicowboy @buckstommy @shitouttabuck @evankinard @ilostyou @911onabc @anirudhpisharody @try-set-me-on-fire @goforkinard @youreonyourownkid @buckttommy @leothil @canonbibuck @bucktommys @bvckandeddie @exhuastedpigeon @wearherlikeanecklace @diazly @eddiebabygirldiaz @hunybody @chaoticeddie @loserlesbianbf @sibylsleaves

#was up at 5am possessed by the thought of chris being the one to make buck realize that hes bi #i blinked and we are here #truly thought i was incapable of writing any more fic but ! bi buck u have some sort of crazy power over me i swear #my fic #abby is making #911 abc #911 #buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #911 fic

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lurkingshan · 8 months ago

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Unknown Episode 8

My god, Yuan is so smart and Qian doesn't stand a chance.

Big change this week, as Yuan started calling his brother by his name (insert grumbling about the subtitles obscuring this by always translating "ge" as "Qian"). Both in the scene when Yuan checked on Qian and wished him good night, and again at the river, he called him "Wei Qian." In both of these moments, Yuan is trying to encourage Qian to accept that relationships can change and that it's okay for him to see Yuan as someone other than his little brother. He's also still calling him "ge" when he's interacting with him more in a familial way, and flirting and caring for him while also establishing some new distance by not catering to him in every single interaction. Yuan still loves him, but he's not a kid worshipping an idol anymore. You could practically see Qian's head spinning as he tries to keep up and get a read on how Yuan feels.

I like the way the show used the Lili and San Pang reveal to shake Qian up. First of all, let me just say that the scene where he found out was absolute comedy gold from start to finish, and I lost it entirely when they showed Yuan in the background embodying popcorn.gif. Qian struggles a lot with change, and he's uncomfortable both with the idea of his siblings growing older and with them engaging in romantic relationships, something he himself has never done. And the show didn't mention it explicitly, but I can't imagine it's lost on him that San Pang was so against Yuan's feelings for Qian, but has no apparent qualms about dating Lili (and covering her with hickeys, what are you, 14, San Pang?), despite all of them being part of the same found family unit. There's a hypocrisy there that is so far unnamed, and it must contribute to his discontent with this situation, though I don't think he'd ever say that out loud. Some part of him must think it's unfair that they get to date happily while he's been tormented for years over what to do about Yuan's feelings for him.

And at this point, it's clear these feelings are mutual. Qian's physical awareness of Yuan was cropping up all over this episode; there was tension in every scene they shared. Their years apart seem to have only ratcheted up the yearning between them, and Qian is not as practiced at managing it. The anticipation was all over his face whenever he was with Yuan, and each time Yuan did not prioritize him in the way he expected, he was confused and disappointed. His words at the river felt more like he was trying to convince himself, not Yuan, that they should move on from any thoughts of a romantic relationship. I loved the way Yuan got up and sat down right across from him so he could look him in the eye and say he is more mature now, and he will always be his family no matter what, but wouldn't it be nice to have more together? His quiet confidence in that scene was excellent. I truly believe he is willing to accept whatever Qian wants, but he also knows Qian needs to be pushed to understand his own feelings. And next week he will be getting a big dramatic push.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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candycandy00 · 6 months ago

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Could you please do some hcs of how pirate sukuna would react to reader being pregnant and how he’d handle the pregnancy ? 🙏💖

I love the series so much I’m sad it had to come to an end 💖

Okay!

Sukuna wouldn’t be too surprised to find out Reader is pregnant. He’s been giving her cream pies every day after all. He’s never had to worry about it before because he normally gets rid of women before it could become an issue, but he was aware that it was definitely a possibility with Reader.

Now this might get a little dark, so beware. My headcanon is that the first pregnancy ends in a miscarriage. They’re out on the open sea, they don’t have the best healthcare or nutrition. There’s a doctor on the ship but he specializes in injuries and scurvy, not pregnancy. Both Sukuna and Reader would be sad about it, but I think they would both feel like maybe they should be more careful from then on. So Sukuna would be upping his pull out game.

It would be around a year before another pregnancy. It wasn’t on purpose, just a case of Sukuna not pulling out in time. It happened occasionally but this time Reader got pregnant. Once they realize this, Sukuna decides to make every effort to ensure a safe pregnancy. The first step is getting Reader off the ship. Sukuna joins her in a port town friendly to pirates. He stays with her throughout the pregnancy and makes sure she has the best care money can buy.

He refuses to leave the room for the birth, despite the doctor asking him to. When Reader is screaming and crying, he doesn’t give her the expected comforting words. Instead, he reminds her that she’s the great Captain Sukuna’s woman. If she can handle him, she’s strong enough to handle anything!

A healthy baby girl is born. When Sukuna holds her for the first time, he knows instantly that he wants to prioritize her safety over all else. So he stays with his girls for a couple of weeks, then departs on his ship, deciding that being away from them is the best way to prevent them from being targeted. He visits them sometimes, always being very discreet so no one will realize the connection, and he makes sure his girls have plenty of money. Until they meet again on another ship… (see other headcanons)

#sukuna x reader

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piracytheorist · 1 year ago

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The kindness surviving

As I can't stop saying, one of my favourite things about Spy x Family is how focused it is on humanity's innate kindness. Its premise is three lonely people finding a family (and themselves) with each other, the story's endgame is to secure peace, it's hopeful in the midst of its realism, and it allows characters to be vulnerable when it comes to family and connections.

And one more thing that is added to that, is how Yor and Twilight (to a less obvious degree) have retained their kindness and compassion through their violent lives and professions.

Yor started the assassin gig when she was just a teenager.

Adding to that how it was a choice she made out of despair and lack of any other choice, and how the Shopkeeper seems like a despicable person to work under (there's no moral merit to recruiting children for assassinations, let alone orphans with no other choices left), this could have easily made into a story of how Yor became cold and emotionless and cruel.

Instead, particularly thanks to having Yuri in her life, she's remained as kind as ever, even when she kills people. She doesn't torture her targets, would rather refrain spilling unnecessary blood, and she's careful and quick in her job.

And through all that, her priority has never been herself.

She's kind, almost to a fault. She's polite and when it comes to everyone else but her targets, she thinks they have the best interests at heart and can even be confused sometimes as to why some people behave in a rude or cruel way.

She's human. Her reason to start and continue being an assassin was to ensure her brother's carefree life, and now that she's bonded with the Forgers, they've joined Yuri in the way she wishes to protect their peaceful life.

It's showing that despite her violent work, her humanity has prevailed, making her selfless and nurturing. It's in our nature.

Twilight's case is handled differently, as he has denied himself any identity and attachments to ideals, aside from protecting the peace.

He's not supposed to "have" traits or a personality. He was trained to be able to adapt to any situation and become the role he's acting as. When he acts as a father, he can be kind and caring. When he acts as a terrorist, he can be cruel and violent. And when his job gives him no option but to kill people who stand in his way, he'll do it without remorse.

But again, like Yor, his reason to do everything he does is to ensure peace remains, so that no-one will have to suffer like he did. That's a very empathetic and compassionate motivation, and though the circumstances of his life made him bury it deep, the moment Anya cries and clutches onto him for comfort he's reminded securely of that.

As he is when he sees Anya smile.

He cares for the next generation and wants to provide it with a better future than he had. And while the previous season showed many moments of instinctual kindness (saving the kid from the charging cow, sparing the German shepherd, thanking Bond for saving Anya, encouraging Carroll Campbell to play fairly) and understanding of how humans can work together (his discussion with Desmond, talking about how despite different stances, people can still meet in the middle if they try), the cruise arc showed how he prioritized on making Anya happy. While at first he was confused by the concept of "having fun", he eventually ended up observing Anya and encouraging activities that would make her happy.

Again, after a certain point the "mission" is nowhere in his mind and he only worries how Anya's mood will affect her and the family. As he focuses on that, he turns compassionate, empathetic, and dare I say, sweet.

And I can't help thinking those are traits he doesn't have to pretend that much to show, if at all.

He's a master of manipulation and deception. He could act tooth-rottingly sweet to deceive his targets, but seeing how open and unprecedentedly honest he becomes with Yor, and how (even if he doesn't realize it) he actually learns to be a good father to help Anya with her mood, I don't think that's the case with those two (three, if you count Bond too!).

If nothing else, we (and Anya) have the advantage of hearing his thoughts, and while we joke about how "For The Mission" is his flimsy excuse to himself for the feelings he's developing for his family, it's truly important how he's started to not need the reminder; how he can instinctively care for them, because it's what his compassionate nature tells him to do.

And I think, just like Yor, it's very important and telling that through his life of violence and deception, his humanity has survived just under the surface and is starting to show more the longer he stays with the Forgers. He's not "learning" to be compassionate and caring; those are traits that already existed, but he had to cover with all his fake identities. However, since they were what led him to become a spy in the first place, the way didn't replace the motivation.

He's human, even though he willingly trained to suppress any such vulnerable spots, they could never be extinguished entirely.

This story is full of hope for humanity and how kindness can survive and prevail among anything else. Its characters would logically follow the example.

And I love them for it.

(Anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

#Spy x Family #sxf meta #Yor Forger #Loid Forger

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saigethearies · 1 year ago

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LOVE LANGUAGES

how he shows you that he loves you :) while rearranging your insides <3 <3

multifandom x fem!reader starring kiba, eren, jean, megumi, and kuroo (this is so self-indulgent it’s literally just a collection of my favs)

all characters mentioned are in their twenties in this piece || MINORS DNI 18+

cw: sub!reader, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving) and mention of (m!receiving), blindfolding, bondage, praise, cockwarming, lingerie, daddy kink, use of pet names

___

KIBA inuzuka may seem like a selfish man at first glance. cocky and egotistical, it’s easy to imagine he would only care about himself.

that couldn’t be further from the truth.

despite how selfish he may seem, kiba always prioritized your pleasure above his own in the bedroom. the acts of service you witnessed from him during this time stemmed from just how devoted he was to you, ignoring his own hardening want to ensure you felt amazing.

“kiba!” you cried out, tears streaming down your face as you tried to recover from your third orgasm of the night.

the brunette smirked from his place between your thighs, white fangs glistening in the moonlight peeking into the room.

“yes, pretty girl?”

“too much! t-too much, please slow down!”

the brunette chuckled. “oh, i would baby, but you just sound so sexy when you’re cumming on my tongue. you can give me on more, yeah?”

you didn’t answer right away, leading kiba to circle his lips around your clit once more. bucking your hips into his face, you answered him. “y-yes, kiba! i’ll give you one more, fuck.”

he smirked. “that’s my good girl.”

EREN always had to have a hand on you; whether it was placed on the small of your back, wrapped around your shoulders, or holding one of your own. regardless of the manner, eren found a way, because physical touch was important to him.

that’s how you found yourself in the position you were currently in, hands cuffed to the headboard and a blindfold over your eyes.

“i want all of my touches to feel even more intense on your skin,” eren had said.

you jumped when you felt your boyfriend’s fingertips dancing along your torso. not knowing where he was heading, you held your breath before gasping at the feel of eren’s hand cupping your breast.

“so responsive,” he said with a smirk while watching you push your chest further into his hands.

“maybe i should blindfold you more often if it means you’ll be this sensitive, baby.”

JEAN never hid how much he loved you. sweet praises always falling from his lips, the words of affirmation he gave you always left your head feeling light.

“what a pretty girl,” your husband breathed into your ear. “so wet for me, you’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you, doll?”

you hiccuped, pressing yourself back into his chest as jean had you spread open in his lap. “yes, daddy, missed you so much.”

he bummed. “i know you did, honey.”

you felt his fingers slip into the waistband of your panties. “this sweet cunt has been so neglected, hasn’t it?”

“yeah, daddy, it has. please make it feel better.”

jean chuckled. “don’t worry, daddy’s gonna take good care of his pretty girl and her pretty pussy.”

MEGUMI couldn’t always count on words, being the quiet person that he is. therefore, spending quality time with you was the best way to ensure that you knew he was still head over heels for you.

especially when your activities together walked the narrow line between intimate and wholesome.

“just wanna be as close to you as possible, gumi,” you had said while sinking your soaked pussy down onto his hard cock.

this wasn’t the first time you had cockwarmed him, nor would it be the last. whenever you and megumi needed an easy way to be together, this was the first thing the two of you tried out.

your boyfriend groaned out, fingernails digging crescent shapes into your hips as you settled into his lap. placing a kiss on the top of your, the sorcerer wrapped his arms around your waist.

“the feeling of your cunt around me is never going to get old, my love.”

KUROO never hesitated to spoil you. his precious little princess, he ensured you always had something beautiful to wear for him. thus, gift giving was like a second nature to the sports promoter once the two of you became official.

“let me see you, kitten,” the brunette called out to you after you finished fastening the garter strap.

exiting the bathroom, you stood still so your fiancé could see the intricate, red lace patterns adorning your skin.

kuroo let out a low whistle from his place on your bed. “you look absolutely gorgeous, angel.”

you watched as he stood up, coming to meet you as he placed a hand under your chin.

“my sweetheart is going to show me how lovely this set looks on her while she’s on her knees for me, right, kitten?”

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 months ago

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It's Enough, It's Enough - chapter five

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Chapter: 5 / 6

Summary: Five times Jane and Guildford pretend to have sex, and one time it’s for real.

read on tumblr: one | two | three | four

She's been reading all along. Guildford doesn't know that. She didn't want him to think she wasn't prioritizing the texts on curing Ethianism, and she never wanted him to know that, despite their conversation about marital obligations on the first night of their honeymoon, she's been contemplating the idea of fucking him this whole time. And not just contemplating it, reading about it—which, for Jane Grey, is about as serious as you can get.

Every time she starts to surrender to what her body wants and Guildford stops her, it's embarrassing. Her own fault, of course; even if the eager way she leans in whenever his face comes near totally contradicts them, her words have communicated things like “As if” and “I want a divorce.” Despite her actions, it seems that he heard her from the start and decided to listen. He's not confused. Clearly, Guildford lives in a world where people say a thing and follow through, set their own rules and then abide by them. And Jane lives in a world where her spine dissolves like wet sugar when Guildford stands just a little too close to her. Or smirks at her. Or does anything with his hands, really. Or refers to her as his wife. That gets her too.

The books on sex are as unromantic as Jane imagines is possible. This is maddening, and also probably the reason she doesn't feel like they're helping. She wants to understand, but not like that, or that, or that—flipping through pages on anatomy (she's seen a diagram of a member before) and diseases of the genitalia and their proposed treatments (her eyes widen in horror at repeated suggestions to place plants she knows to be poisonous in extremely delicate areas). It's all just too clinical, and she usually loves clinical! She loves when books present things unemotionally, letting the facts speak for themselves! But that doesn't work for her here. As much as Jane reads about blood and stiffening and insertion, she feels as though she's seeing less than half of the picture. Nothing like the way she feels around Guildford is captured in these pages. Because of that, they're almost no good to her at all.

Getting attempted-murdered in broad moonlight is an unwelcome yet extremely effective distraction. Oh yes, she's considered scenarios that would lead to her waking up on her back in the warm grass, but it was always Guildford who had something to do with that, not Mary. It takes Jane some time before she's able to figure out why she can hardly breathe: the result of Mary's thumbs mashing her windpipe, or fear that someone with stronger thumbs (or maybe a sword) was sent after Guildford to dispatch him too?

But Guildford is alive. For now. Lately, Jane feels as though everything has only been “for now.” She is continually wrong-footed in a world of impermanence. They gain access to the rest of Mary and Seymour's letters, Mary steals them back. Jane awakens from failed assassination-induced unconsciousness, ready to tell Guildford what happened (or maybe that she's starting to understand that thing he sensed she didn't yet the last time they kissed), and he's already a horse. Nothing is certain!

Guildford's father counsels her towards certainty, but it's a certainty of his own desiring, not hers. Neither giving birth to a son nor naming Guildford King (though that's not the order Lord Dudley has in mind) could be easily undone—yet the possibility exists, with so many would-be killers darting about the palace. Regardless, neither action is one she wants to take. Except for maybe the bit about making the son. In this political climate though? Jane doesn't like the idea of using a baby as a tool, even if that is the gig, part and parcel of being a monarch. Again, it's too clinical, making her think of those books with their dispassionate descriptions of the marital act. Does everything in her life need a motive? Must she always pretend to be anticipating something five steps ahead? Will she forever be expected to enjoy scheming as much as the people around her? Why is certainty synonymous with power and never happiness? Can she not fucking live?

Even the project that gives meaning to her marriage, if not her life, is revealed to be pointless; Susannah visits and assures Jane there is no cure to Ethianism. Not being able to disclose to Susannah exactly why that's such bad news makes Jane ache. She needs a friend. She needs Susannah to ask how she is, like she did after Jane's father died. Jane has no clue how to impart this information to Guildford. Is there a way, if she wants to be kind? Can he care for her if she stops being his means to a cure? If she's just a person, full of flaws, letting him down? Is there anything real left between them without their deal? They've done so much pretending. They've built a version of themselves on the lies they've told, and Jane doesn't know whether there is another version.

Leave it to her mother to force the issue. With her usual disregard for what the consequences will be for anyone other than herself, she makes two statements: Guildford is a horse, and Jane is in love with him. Though Jane manages to storm out of the room, her thoughts lack the same decisiveness. It feels to her as if her mother has thrown a knife that skewered the fundamental truth about each of them, Guildford and Jane. He is a horse, and his identity obsesses him, steers him, rides him; everything he values is valued because of its potential to either cure his Ethianism or dull his suffering while he endures the condition that is consumingly hateful to him. She loves him, and the feeling makes her ignore trial, ignore failure; his need for what she is supposed to be able to offer sustains them both. Will he want her if he doesn't need her? Will she stop being afraid long enough to let him?

There are no answers to these questions that she could find in books. There are only her rushing feet—along stone corridors, and then shushing across the lawn. Jane doesn't know how to stop Mary trying to kill her, and she doesn't know how to get justice for Edward, and she doesn't know if Susannah is right about Ethianism or simply angry at what appeared to be Jane's dismissal of their right to exist as themselves. Night has come on and the grass is damp as her dress drags across it. With all Jane's unknowns, at last, she has her certainty: she does not want a divorce. She wants Guildford to stay with her, to be with her, and to be with him, and to let him see that she is afraid, but that she will stay, if he will have her.

It's all circling around her head, so that, when she finds her husband standing at the back of the stables, she isn't sure she even says hello to him before putting a nix on divorce and demanding he kiss her.

She doesn't say she loves him. She doesn't want to talk, she isn't ready. But she's here. Jane's presence is her grand declaration. After all her hesitation, all her needless care, she can't undress him fast enough—can't make him undress her fast enough. She always thought the decision to give in would be difficult, but it's easy, easy, easy. Guildford's mouth on hers is heavy like ripe fruit. His fingers trip over the fastenings that do her up, keep her together, but once he steadies himself, this seems easy too; she wonders if he's pictured it all before: studied her clothing in moments when she was distracted and imagined what it would be like to dismantle his queen's lace and brocade armour. Has he been reading her while she read books?

This, by the way, is what the books couldn't get right: the swoop in her stomach when Guildford pulls her onto his lap, the overwhelming affection in her when she feels him smiling against her lips. Suddenly, Jane registers sympathy for those poor authors. How could they have put this on paper? How could anyone? For all the things that are meant to be read and studied and learned, what's happening between Jane and Guildford, here, now, is only meant to be felt. To transcribe would be to dilute.

She isn't ashamed to be naked before him, and there's nothing clinical about the heat of his member pressed to her thigh when he lies down on top of her in this bed he's maintained in the stables. It smells like him, even here, where the scents of hay and wood and animal are strong. The scent of the bed is exhaustion and resignation, but also refuge. This is where Guildford is both selves, the one he wants and the one he doesn't. He comes here every night when he leaves her. This bed has held her husband when he deemed it unsafe for Jane to do the same. She has a sudden urge to find out what sleep smells like on him, when his body relaxes into the bed that cradles her now. How does he look entirely disarmed? Does being here now mean he'll let her spend the night? She doesn't say she loves him, but she strokes his back while he kisses her hotly and imagines stroking it again while he sleeps.

When the time has nearly come, Jane can tell. She panics. She admits it. And Guildford, who she has seen snide, self-assured, sarcastic, and short-tempered in daily life (or... nightly life), could not be more tender, more sweet. Jane wishes their wedding could have been like this, but in a way, this is a union, and one of their own choosing. He'll show her, no condescension. She'll let him, no injured pride.

He's barely hovering over her as his fingers trace up her thigh. Guildford's touch is so light it almost tickles like his leg hair does—a sensation she's surprised to find comforting, but it reminds her of their first bedding ceremony, his clever deception that spared them both some humiliation. She has always been a consideration for him. His pledge of thoughtfulness is there in his fingertips, in the parting of her, in the caress of the place the arousing fact of his body on hers has made damp. Jane grips his shoulders. Her hands flutter like confused butterflies up to the back of his neck as she trusts him and trusts him and trusts him. She writhes beneath him so much as he runs his careful fingers over and through and into her that he makes as if to climb off her, to give her room. Alight with a pleasure that feels like ringing the rim of a glass, Jane doesn't want room. She wants her husband right here, pressing her down, working her up. She winds her legs around the back of Guildford's calves and holds fast.

His tongue is in her mouth when she finds release in his bed for the first time. Though he drags his sopping fingers out of her, he continues touching her gently while they kiss. On her end, the kisses are nearly formless in the aftermath of the nervous burst that cascaded through her body, and yet Guildford's mouth is patient and forgiving. He grins when her lips meet his teeth, and licks at her, teasingly, when she attempts to slip her tongue into his mouth. Between her thighs, she feels his wedding ring. The smooth metal band bumps over her clitoris, scattering sparks which threaten to start fires; Jane bites her husband's lip to get his attention, then makes him watch her eyes as she rubs herself against the ring that says they are bound before God and England. There will be no divorce, her eyes insist. You were given to me as much as they gave me to you. When he's apparently unable to endure any more, Guildford grasps the base of Jane's skull and devours her mouth. She comes again when he sucks the tip of her tongue. At this rate, he's going to swallow everything her body can't contain.

If she's annoyed to realize she's unwittingly following her mother's advice—mouth closed, legs open—it's a distant annoyance, and it passes. Jane reaches a hand down between them, brushing warm skin on both sides. Their mouths slide apart until Guildford's lips rest against her cheek, not quite kissing. She stops to explore the hirsute path below his navel with her fingertips, lightly scratching her nails forward and back against the texture of his hair. On top of her, Guildford's breathing changes, rough and hitching, wanting her fingers right where they are, but also elsewhere. It's not dissimilar to intoxication, Jane thinks: this warm, loose feeling within her, the way her worries and reticence have left without conscious shedding. She reaches a bit farther (Hold anything firm firmly, and anything soft softly.) and wraps her fingers around his girth.

Her husband is patient, still—if tense—while Jane keeps his member lightly encircled in her grasp as she shuffles her legs apart. The cool sheet under her warm thighs is a relief that won't last. Smoothing her other hand over Guildford's hip, she guides him into the space she's made for him. She gasps when the blunt, wet end of him prods her. When he kisses her, she doesn't know if it's supposed to distract her, but his hand closes over hers and she feels everything.

Instinctually, Jane tilts her hips as he begins to insert himself. Her eyes go wide with surprise at the sensation it was impossible to prepare herself for (not that any of the male authors of those books even thought of soliciting a female perspective on the acts they describe). She can't help laughing at the strangeness. Guildford's (knife-slinging tavern lust-object) member (thick, rigid, twitching against her abdomen while they kissed) is inside her body! They're joined together! And it doesn't even hurt! Logically, Jane understands that this has more than a little to do with Guildford's unhurried fingers preparing her, but it's tempting to surrender herself to the illogical, to romance: it doesn't hurt because he never would, never could, hurt her. Gradually, Guildford sinks deeper. Breathing shakily, Jane bends her knees to hold his hips between her thighs, and then he's fully inside her.

But the end of that part is just the beginning of so much more. Jane loops her arms around Guildford's waist, spreads her hands on his back, feels his muscles go taut as he starts the slow, rhythmic process of consummation. This is their bodies in conversation. It's another way to know one another, and a transformation of them both; Jane can tell by his face, which hovers over hers, his eyes looking down at her with something he doesn't seem able to voice either. But it's there. It's there with them in this bed, in this stable, on this night when nobody told them what to do, or how, or why. Jane hears the soft grunts huffing past her own lips. Latin, Greek, Italian—now she speaks this. It's their own language, and apparently, she's fluent.

In a moment that passes before she can catch it, the sensation of Guildford thrusting within her evolves from feeling strange but good to very, very good. She can feel how wet she is, how steadily he's gliding through, and yet there's suddenly this friction. Her grunts crack open and become breathy cries. It's because she's squeezing him, from within. She's been kneading the muscles of his back, but her own muscles, there inside her, are at least as powerful. They have the power to make Guildford pant like an animal, his hips jerking shallowly against hers until she stops clenching. She offers a slack smile in return for his stunned expression, and then they surge together, grabbing each other's face as they kiss, fingers catching on chins and ears and hair already unkempt from one another's caresses.

Guildford begins rolling his hips into hers harder—not fast, but less restrained. Jane can tell there's so much more he'll show her, something raw she won't see this first time, suppressed so he can give her no more than what she's ready to receive. But it's thrilling to feel him letting go. Her back arches as she tries to meet him in his thrusts, and his curves, his forehead pressed somewhere around her collarbone. He exhales against her skin, hot gusts of air. When he widens his legs, braced up on his knees, it pushes hers farther apart too. There's nothing coy or secret now; her body is held wide for him, and she welcomes it. She digs her fingers into his hair and closes them in a fist. Guildford's lips rub against her skin as he cries out. With quick, mindless snaps of his hips, he finishes inside her.

Feeling as if she's just been awoken from the dead (but no, that was this morning), Jane's heart beats at a rapid pace. Her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. She's overwhelmed. She wants to both crush Guildford against her and shove him away so she can order her thoughts. This is what it feels like, then, to experience someone else's pleasure so close at hand and not achieve her own end. It'll be fine in a minute—he brought her off twice before—but right now, she feels insane.

But Guildford sees it—of course he does. He lifts his head and the hazy bliss in his dark eyes sharpens as he notes the state she's in. He grips himself on withdrawal, and Jane nearly has a fit at the thought of his fingers remaining down there, massaging between her legs again (oh, she wants it, but it might be more than her overstimulated sex can bear). He doesn't do that though. Her husband holds himself heavily on top of her and starts kissing her everywhere but her mouth. He presses his thigh between hers, just presses, and makes his meandering way down her neck, lips below her jaw, lips on her throat, lips where her hair's stuck to her skin with sweat, lips where her body has surely taken on the scent of his. He explores her chest. His mouth skims the breadth of it before going lower. When he gets to her breasts, there's tongue. Guildford licks her—the underside curve, the nipples stiff with sensation—and his thin necklaces hang against her ribs, catching the candlelight when she looks. Between his curious tongue and the pressure of his thigh, Jane shuts her eyes and shudders to quiet release.

She comes back to herself with Guildford stroking her hair.

They lie side by side for a while, not speaking. She wonders if he reads much at night, or if these hours are always kept for silent contemplation. She wonders if he feels as alone here as she does up in the palace.

The bed cools, but their legs are intertwined, and Guildford runs hot. Jane has just learned that, having never lain beside him before, except for the bedding ceremony, which shouldn't count. Anyway, they weren't naked then, and they are now. She feels a bit shy, but mostly, it's nice. He touches her just because, hand sliding down her arm. He touches her like it's the only important thing. Does he love her? She wants him to love her. She wants him to love her whether or not there's a cure.

They kiss when they think they're falling asleep, but the kissing wakes them back up. Their breathing grows rough and their mouths meet with increasing need. They grab at each other, pulling themselves into greater contact. Jane's aroused like she always is when they kiss, but the familiar throb is gone, replaced by the larger, more distinct ache that says her body knows exactly what it's missing—knows Guildford's size and shape.

Very softly, he asks, “Are you too sore?”

Jane shakes her head firmly.

She is kind of sore, but a strained-muscle soreness, a blunt, tired twinge. She knows pain of all varieties. She knows the difference between pains that will hurt more and less the next morning. Tomorrow, what she's feeling now might feel worse, but this is a special circumstance. Guildford is a special circumstance.

So, Jane hooks her thigh over her husband's hip. He groans to re-enter her. He's tired and pliant and starving for her after the time they've spent wanting and not having; he pours all this feeling into her, thrusts breaking against her like deep currents churned up into waves. She rocks with him. Her limbs fold him close to her, but his thrusts get wilder, and she pulls him over her again. There is no separation, she decides. No line between what is the human world and what the natural. She wants to know everything her husband is, especially when he takes her like this—taking her with him, it feels like, wherever he plans for them to go. Good, Jane thinks. You decide.

She likes being here. She puts herself in his hands.

—

Author's Note:

I'm doing the 5 + 1 out of order (this chapter is the + 1). Though Jane and Guildford have now had sex for real, there is one more instance of pretending in their future. It ain't over yet!

#surprise bitch #the long-awaited update #my writing #My Lady Jane #MLJ #Jane Grey #Guildford Dudley #Jane x Guildford

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sashi-ya · 10 months ago

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𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑨 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻. Trafalgar Law x F! Reader

🌨 a/n: so I recently been to Austria, a country I often visit since it's literally like a dream. (plus, my mom knew she was pregnant with me there, so I was used to come back to Innsbruck as much as I could with her). But in any case I got inspired there to write this little fic, that might -or not- be a multi chapter one if you all like it. The place exists and the scam part, happened to me -kinda, the airbnb existed, but not as it was listed :P- but in any case, please enjoy and don't forget to leave some feedback if you want more~ ❄ tw: a very sfw story, that might evolve into something else if you want me to keep writing about their trip 😏 ☃ wc: 2.6k

Hijacking for the first time, what could go wrong? Maybe everything, maybe nothing.

A two-month long trip all around Europe has found you on a little village of Austria. Your boots are cold, but luckily they are snow proof ones. Your skin all bumpy, your cheeks irritated. It’s been snowing all night, and despite the sun rising for now, some clouds in the sky menace with more white blessing to fall upon your shoulders very soon.

Those little mountain streets around the Alps are wonderful, they surround mountains going up and down and in a spiral way. But those are wonderful, as long as you can drive a car with heating. And you don’t have one right now.

The crunchy sound of the snow beneath your boots mix with the melody of a glacial river running in between the mountain and the road. It is certainly beautiful, the little rocks and stones being bathed by such pure and cold water, the rests of dry leaves and some moss growing on an everlasting shadow casted by tall, enormous peaks. Everything is worth taking a picture, but you should prioritize your battery life this time around. The GPS is sometimes wonky, being that high can affect the service.

Many cars have passed by, but none of them have stopped. Little lorries carrying logs pass, cars completely drenched in dirty snow and that mix of salt that roads have during winters.

However, just when your hopes for finding someone to at least give you a ride to the next village were about to run out, the yellow shine of an old VW ban flashes before your eyes.

There, behind a curve -a very dangerous one if you ever went to the mountains- something smells like smoke and a tall man of white furry hat swears up to the skies.

You walk towards him, carefully. Who knows what is happening? Who knows who that man is capable of? There is one thing you are sure, however, and it is that this man is absolutely mad at his old van.

When peaking behind a dark wooden tree that’s now covered in spots of white snow, you discover the annoyed man is a young -handsome- one.

His van, a little rusty but still cute, seems to be having problems to keep going and the smoke coming from it shows it very well.

“Sir? Sir! Your van is catching fire!” you announce, realizing the smoke is indeed a very serious issue.

The guy of chocolate skin and tattooed hands turns around to look immediately at you and then to the back of the van. Those 70’s vehicles had actually their engines right in the back instead of the front.

And Indeed, you were right. Apparently the climb had been too tough for the poor old VW and its engine couldn’t take it any longer.

He quickly opens the back door, maybe searching for a fire extinguisher while you grab fistfuls of snow in an attempt to put down the incipient flames. Quickly enough, and with not many damages to count, the fire stops, and the only thing left is a big black spot on the back of the caravan.

“Thank you” he says, as dry as hopefully your socks. “No problem. What happened? Did the engine over heat?” you ask, curious despite his “I don’t want friends” face. “Yes; these hills are no joke. This never happened to my Polar, but there is always a first time…” he sighs, assessing the damage with a sad expression.

Apparently his van has a name; “Polar”. That’s very cute, and his eyes too. A golden shine in them looks even beautiful with the pristine white around. His tattoos do as well. You wonder about his name, and what is he doing on the road, but you are not sure if it’s proper to ask. However, he asks first.

“What are you doing here? do you have a car?” he mumbles, his voice is as attractive as he is. His eyes scan the place, but nothing catches his attention.

“No, I am actually hijacking. No one stopped so I started walking before the sun starts going down. I definitely got scammed; the Airbnb I was supposed to stay in didn’t, in fact, exist.

He grunts, almost silently. Apparently he is not happy with what happened to you but that’s it.

“Well, that’s so unsafe. I am sorry I can’t give you a ride right now. Apparently none of us have been blessed with good luck today” he says, walking around his vehicle with long legs covered in spotted jeans.

You nod. Your tongue is aching to ask about him, but you clearly catch the hint… he doesn’t want you there.

“Yep. Well, I wish you luck! I must keep going” “Same to you, be careful”

He doesn’t even look at you, something that makes you -somehow- very sad. In any case, you start walking away. There is no point in staying there… even if you have great mechanical skills that could help.

And as you do, you also have a very, very loud consciousness voice screaming at you on how could you leave him with no solution if you know it…

“Sir, you should check your water level…” you shout, a few meters away from him. The sound of your voice echoes in the huge natural immensity of the Alps and his golden eyes finally fall upon you.

He stops moving for some seconds, lost in you. You, as well, wait for him to say something else. Something like “stay with me” or “don’t go”. A total stranger you want to hang up with. A total unknown woman he wants to protect.

“You know how to fix this?” “I do…”

Or so that was what you thought.

No more than a couple of minutes took you to help him out. VW vans are noble machines; they are durable and easy to fix despite their particular design. And soon, as a part of your payment, the man that you learned is called Law and you drove away through intricate roads and huge snowflakes.

“Where are you going, (Name)-ya?” he asks, handing you an old cover from an old comic, Germa 66.

“I was supposed to stay for a couple of days in Bad Goisern, and then I thought of visiting Salzburg. I am on a long trip through Europe. What about you?” you ask, cuddling with the blanket. A certain blessing for your freezing hands.

He nods, checking the breaks before going down the hill.

“I am too. I just graduated medical school and I thought of taking a little vacation before my residency starts. I’m going to be a surgeon. A cardiac surgeon” he tells, full of dreams he fails to cover up behind a tough guy expression.

You celebrate his success, and the next couple of hours become a ping pong of questions and answers. A smile on your face that leaves your cheeks hurting accompanies you until the sun hides and the little lights on the mountains start to scatter.

You didn’t want to go down in the first village, nor the second, nor the third. Law, didn’t want you to go down his van either. You named Salzburg, and he promised you to take you there.

But the night found both of you, and apparently your mechanical skills weren’t as good as you thought the would… Polar decided to stop, in the middle of nowhere during a dark, very dark winter night.

You close your eyes as the sound of rusty gears fail and Law’s annoyance grows stronger than ever. When Polar finally loses all of the power, Law manages to agonizingly park on the side of the road and a huge sighs escapes his lips.

You peak through your left eye; his DEATH tattooed fingers squeeze the wheel, and you know he will snap at any moment. But he doesn’t…

“I’m sorry. I thought- I-“ you try to give a plausible apologize, even though you had nothing to do with it.

“No. It is not your fault… it is mine- As we didn’t stop, I have completely forgotten to fuel Polar up” Law says, absolutely mortified for such stupid mistake. Apparently you were enough distraction to keep him from the basics of road tripping.

You breath alleviated and try to stop your upcoming laughter. Your grimacing did nothing to hide it, and a big burst of laughter took over the van and everything around.

Law looks at you pissed, but a soft smirk garnishes his lips. You can’t stop, perhaps it isn’t that funny… but you feel so happy right now. And you have no idea why, since you are literally stranded in a very dark wood with temperatures below 0C and snow pooling on top of that van.

“Welp, it’s ok. We should wait until tomorrow, then” you say, knowing the risks. “You- you prefer spending the night in here? aren’t you afraid of dying?” he asks, surprised.

“I am, in fact, scared of dying. That’s why I know very well I can’t walk during a snowstorm in the middle of the night in the Alps. Plus, you are too sweet to be considered a threat” you joke, searching for some chocolate inside your backpack.

Law narrows his eyes, deepening his frown. Apparently being called “sweet” and “not a threat” is not something he enjoys.

“I could cut you open and took all of your organs out during the night” he says, serious as hell. “Go for it. Don’t forget to steal my heart, doctor” you laugh, taking your jacket off.

Law is flabbergasted; he has never confronted someone like you before… but he is beginning to like it now.

A bar of chocolate that you had kept in your backpack for too long lays too close to his nose. You shake it, offering its sweetness to him.

He takes it but doesn’t eat it. Instead, his hand gets pressed against the window behind you. Law has pinned you against the door of your side. He is not a very muscular man, but he is indeed very tall and lean… if he wanted, he could do anything to you.

Your eyes widen, big as the moon. You swallow, thinking maybe walking through the forest might be a safer option.

“L-Law… I- didn’t mean to-“ you tremble, asking yourself where did you put the Victorinox blade you bought in Switzerland… it should be enough to defend yourself, right?

You notice his chest is also tattooed as his clothes open just a little. His arms, are too. His scent, despite the danger, smells deliciously tempting…

“Don’t trust strangers that easily, (Name)-ya” he whispers, a few centimetres from your lips. Letting you go after and biting the chocolate bar as if nothing has just happened.

You remain there, frozen up with your eyes widen and your lips softly trembling. He is, in fact, very right. Law is indeed a stranger, after all.

When oxygen finally begins to reach your lungs and brain again, you move and blink the dry eyes away. Silently you sit back, properly. You aren’t able to say anything, somehow you have run out of words.

You squeeze the blanket he gave you, covering you as much as you could, making yourself as tiny as possible on that old leather seat.

“Are you ok?” he asks, so nonchalantly.

“Ye-yes, I’m… ok” you mumble back, almost sticking yourself to the passenger door. “Is it ok if I go to sleep? I’m tired”

Law nods, confused. Maybe he was just joking around, but it did scare you big time. He goes down the van and opens the back doors. You look at him disappearing in the darkness until a very little glimpse of silver light coming from the moon filters through the doors.

But, soon after, fairy lights illuminate the back allowing you to discover a very cozy space behind the front seats.

“I am glad I installed this independently from the fuel tank. I have a little power generator for the back. It’s not a hotel bed, but it does the job” he says, showing you a precarious mattress covering the entire floor of the vehicle.

You smile softly, it looks cozy and pretty. The walls are full of random posters and maps, and there is even an old picture of a younger Law with three more guys wearing fancy hats with something written in the snow. You take a closer look at it, to discover it says, “Pirates of Heart” and you giggle. What a peculiar gang name.

“Law, this is really cute. You even have a lot of blankets and cushions!” you chime, easing a little bit.

“My best friend Bepo decorated it for me, I only helped him with the lights” he says, a little embarrassed.

You jump right back, leaving your backpack in the front seat and forgetting everything for the moment. What a reckless lover girl.

“I am going to sleep in the front seat, don’t worry. Use as many blankets as you need” he informs you, closing the back doors and leaving you there. You most probably were to say “no, stay here” but you simply couldn’t.

After all, this tattooed doctor is a gentleman. Right?

You let yourself rest for a bit on that improvised bed, with your sight blurring while looking at the fairy lights. The scent of the blankets and pillows is the same as him, something you secretly enjoy without even knowing. You catch a glimpse of the reflection of him sitting in the front through the back windows, at how he takes his hat off revealing a dark shade of onyx spiky hair.

For the next half an hour, or maybe less, you both become silent. The only sounds are the huge slaps of snow falling from the sky against the van and the subtle whistle of the wind filtering through the doors.

It is cold, but it’s probably colder in the front as Law is only using his Germa 66 blanket to cover up…

“Law? Are you awake?” you ask, shyly.

“Mh? Yes... why?” he asks back, with not much emotion but a soft tremble on his voice. He is probably cold, very cold.

“I feel bad for you; you must be freezing. There is plenty of room back here, you could sleep here. It’s ok with me” you say, taking advantage of not being in front of him.

Law takes a few minutes to move, but he ultimately does. He hops to where you are and sits there crossing his long legs. He is not wearing his black leather boots, so you can see Sora’s socks.

“Cool socks” you say, sitting right in front of him watching his cheeks go blushed. “Here, cover up. You are freezing, doc”

Both of you cover up with heavy blankets and fall into the mattress at the same time, facing each other.

Maybe, it is too strong to deny it. The attraction is natural, and you both can’t stop it… Exactly like the wind and cold reaching your skins.

“I am still cold” you mumble.

“I read in one of my books that the best way to keep the warmth of our bodies is to share it… skin to skin” he whispers, unable to take his eyes away from your lips.

“Is that so?” you breathe, coming closer to his embrace, allowing his arms to surround your frame and your hips to join with the other’s.

His forehead slowly touches yours, the bridge of your noses do as well. Your fingers, playfully but slowly, crawl to the crook of his neck. While his, squeeze your waist with delicate dominance. A leg that snake into the other’s, crossing, tangling…

Lips coming closer, so close. Breaths warming up, going faster and bumpy. Hearts that indeed had been stolen, the first kiss of two strangers, meeting for the very first time like two snowflakes join while falling from an endless sky

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWill they continue their journey together? 🦢

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bizlybebo · 11 months ago

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thinking about ollie now btw.

thinking about him and chip, first of all. thinking about how chip saw this little kid and he saw himself, and so he desperately began to scramble to be everything he needed as a kid that he never got. chip ended up getting caught between 'do cool shit to impress him' and 'keep him safe'. and you can practically see and mark the exact moment where it teetered over into 'keep him safe'. chip's found people that make him want to be a better person and it's so gahgdjhkjwehtjk to think about.

thinking about chip chastising ollie for cursing despite ollie picking up every bit of it from chip.

thinking about ollie calling for chip when things go awry.

thinking about chip just taking the time to check on ollie every time he gets the opportunity.

thinking about ollie clinging onto him and begging not to go home just yet because of the adventures chip's brought him on.

and thinking about the way it haunts chip to hear it because he so desperately wants ollie safe and the albatross isn't always safe. ollie shouldn't be as violent and rowdy as he is at 12 or 10 or 9 or whatever his canon age is.

thinking about ollie and gillion. thinking about gillion being this massive immovable force, this strong warrior in the eyes of a child. thinking about how gillion likely doesn't know how to act around ollie at first because he was never socialized around other kids growing up. but he and ollie actually have so much in common and their friendship is so fucking precious too.

thinking about ollie telling gillion about his journal before he tells chpi and jay.

THINKING ABOUT THE BATTLE THE 2ND TIME THEY WERE IN ALLPORT. thinking about gillion very clearly prioritizing ollie's safety; telling kuba kenta (paraphrased) 'youre going to let him run back to the ship and youre not gonna fucking hurt him' and preparing to use magic or some other spell to protect ollie.

thinking about ollie probably asking to hold gillion's sword. gill's probably like 'hell yeah, but only the worthy can support its weight!' and he lets ollie hold it but magically or however tf holds some of the weight himself so that ollie can actually keep it upright.

THINKING ABOUT OLLIE AND JAY OH MY GOD. thinking about how ollie calls her 'miss jay' which is just fucking adorable. thinking about how he seems to think she's the coolest one on the albatross,, thinking about how he's probably enthralled by jay's inventions and the things she tinkers together.

thinking about how, after jay got her 'wings' (the magical tattoo that allowed her to cast flight), the first thing she did was fly ollie around.

thinking about her trying to be a good role model for ollie because she's like 'well the other two are kind of idiots but i think i can do this right at least'.

thinking about her watching ollie talk about his mother and thinking about her own mother, her own family, and just silently whispering a prayer to the stars, please let this boy's family be good (and as far as i know, his family is good).

#vixen rambles #queueing this one cause its 11pm and i think i've already jrwi-posted so much today #jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi riptide #i need to make a separate tags for my jrwi ramblings i feel like #oliver teach #ollie jrwi #chip bastard #chip jrwi #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi spoilers #< not very big ones but spoilers nonetheless

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Unrequited - Chapter 5 / finale - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 4

wc: 8k

a/n: can't believe this is the eeeend!!! i'm so excited to finally post this and see what you think. it's been a journey and i hope you enjoyed it just as much as i did! replies and asks are greatly appreciated

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey thought he made the right decision to let you go, after all, he knew from the very beginning that it wouldn’t work out. As the Olo’eyktan, his responsibility was to prioritize his people, so it was only fair that he stopped getting distracted by his desires and focused on his duty. Yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he made a mistake. That maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to start over and he had turned it down.

He didn't realize the toll that your last conversation had taken on you, leaving you completely shattered. He had disappeared for weeks on end, leading a search party to investigate the outskirts of the forest after the battle with sky people. It was a long time coming, but it still seemed too well planned to you.

Tsu’tey also didn’t know about the number of nights you spent crying in your bed, or the way your soulless eyes were searching for him in every person during communal gatherings, despite knowing that you wouldn’t find him there. He didn’t know that Takuk, who had stayed back at the Home Tree, attempted to court you in a rather awkward manner, which was obvious to everyone. With Tsu’tey’s absence, and Takuk’s clear interest in you, people had begun to whisper and speculate that it was never serious between you and the chief. Takuk was an honest man, and Tsu’tey was too good to be true anyway, they’d say.

And it hurt. It hurt too much because there was a shift in the air. You didn’t push Takuk away, having no energy to fight back the swirling rumors. You stopped showing up to your lessons with Mo’at, despite following through with the ultimatum she gave you that night. Technically, Tsu'tey had broken things off, and you were a free woman once again, so you could resume your lessons, but what was the point? Becoming a tsakarem to lead alongside a man who didn’t want you?

You drew another long sigh, as you sat weaving a basket. Not that you needed one but the loss of appetite and the absence of healing lessons left you with little to do, and so you occupied your hands with a mindless task. Takuk sat beside you, absentmindedly polishing his weapons, his voice a constant chatter that barely registered in your mind. Most of your time with him was spent like this, with you barely reciprocating his advances, hoping that Takuk would eventually grow bored of you and stop his affection. And if he didn’t, maybe you’d finally break down and accept the idea of being loved by somebody else.

“May I speak with you?” Neytiri casted a shadow over you, blocking the sunlight.

You paused for a moment to nod to Takuk, silently asking for privacy. Neytiri’s gaze bore into you, searching for a hint of your state. As soon as Takuk left, she sat in front of you, taking the unfinished basket out of your hands and putting it aside. You shivered, the absence of distraction made the thoughts come rushing back.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Neytiri’s voice was firm, almost like she was angry with you, “You look drained.”

You couldn't help but feel resentment at her words. Of course, you weren't like your usual self. You had lost sleep over the only person you loved, and it was unrequited.

"I'm fine," you replied curtly, avoiding her eyes. It wasn’t like you didn’t hear those words from her before.

“I am not blind. You need to snap out of it and let your mind rest,” she stated, taking in your appearance once again. You felt exposed under her gaze, seeing right through your fragile facade.

“I’m doing my best,” you shook your head, a painful lump growing in your throat, “Doing what everyone thinks is right.”

“I want you to do what you think is right,” she pointed at your heart.

You shook your head, wishing for her to stop. Neytiri sighed with disappointment at your stubbornness. She has been pushing you around for weeks now, trying to get you back to your lessons. She was convinced that Mo’at was right and that you were a good fit for becoming a tsakarem, so abandoning that opportunity and letting Takuk linger around you seemed like a waste of time to her. Whether you would end up with Tsu’tey or not, Neytiri believed you deserved to be recognized for your efforts and talent.

“The Great Mother blessed you with a gift, how can you refuse it?” she spoke softer this time, trying another approach.

You winced at her words, standing up quickly to gather your things. There was some commotion in the distance, and you spotted a group of warriors returning to the clan, just in time for the communal dinner. Neytiri noticed where your gaze had landed and gasped when she spotted Tsu'tey. But before she could react, you had already stormed off.

Tears were now threatening to spill out, as you realized he returned. The prospect of seeing him was on your mind every day since he left, yet you were too afraid to face him.

“Y/N, wait,” Neytiri yelled, chasing after you, “We’re not finished.”

You ran into your hut, not even bothering to check if she was still following you. The items in your hands slipped out and fell to the ground as you pathetically tried to wipe away the tears that were streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks.

“Eywa will guide you two to each other,” Neytiri’s voice cut like a knife through your chest, causing you to let out a painful whimper at her words.

“It’s out of her power to make him love me.”

Neytiri stood by the entrance, feeling a little guilty for pushing you. If she had known that Tsu’tey would be back by now, she wouldn't have tested you today. The call for the communal dinner rang loudly through the Home Tree, alongside cheerful whistling, indicating that the search party would be celebrated that evening.

“He is just scared to admit it,” she added, her voice low.

"I can't keep holding on to something that's not there.”

You shrugged, feeling frustrated with her persistence. You were unaware of the talk Neytiri had with Tsu’tey and how heavily it weighed on her mind. She was the only one who understood how deeply he was wounded by the pain of losing Silwanin. How he couldn’t bring himself to open up to you because he was afraid of losing another person he loved, and that the responsibility of being a chief was clouding his judgment. Neytiri was convinced that you’d be able to heal his wounds, but she struggled to show it to you.

“Alright,” she sighed, defeated, “Let’s go and eat.”

“You go, I have lost my appetite.”

Neytiri hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before nodding and leaving your hut. It was pointless to argue, so she made a mental note to bring you food afterwards. Her face scrunched up in irritation when she saw Tsu’tey standing outside, wearing a regretful expression that suggested he had heard your conversation, or at least the last part of it.

“Well?” she quirked her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go and talk to you.

But as she stared at him in anticipation, Tsu’tey seemed to change his mind. He shook his head and walked away, leaving Neytiri disappointed. It was clear that he was torn between his feelings, and she didn't know what to do to help him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The physical distance Tsu’tey had to put between you two during the past weeks caused him a constant headache. It felt like Eywa was playing a cruel game on him, as night after night, you appeared in his dreams. He would awaken in a cold sweat, the memory of you convincing him to beg you to return to him, once he was back at the village. But then the next night, as soon as he was determined to win you back, the image of Silwanin would infiltrate his dreams, and guilt would consume him.

Y/N. Silwanin. He hadn't visited Silwanin for a long time, fearful that seeing her would awaken the longing he had buried deep inside and revive all the pain. But as he pondered on his dreams, Tsu’tey realized that Eywa was sending him a sign - a solution.

When Tsu’tey brought out his kuru to the glowing Mother Tree, for the first time in years, he felt like he was on the right path. He knew that Silwanin would be waiting for him, but he was still scared to face her. He had so much to say, so much to ask, but he didn't know how to start.

Closing his eyes, Tsu'tey focused on his connection with Eywa and felt a gentle breeze surround him, wrapping him in a familiar warmth. A pair of hands, soft and comforting, encircled him in a loving embrace.

"Tsu'tey, my love, I've missed you," a voice whispered into his ear.

As he opened his eyes, Tsu'tey found Silwanin standing before him, smiling brightly. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, and for a moment, he forgot that she was gone. He held her tightly.

“I missed you too, yawne,” he whispered back, his voice choked with grief. When her fingertips traced his face, he had to close his eyes to stop the tears from flowing.

“I’ve been waiting for you to visit me for a long time now. I thought you forgot about me,” she pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said with disappointment, shaking his head. "I was too scared to come."

“Why were you scared?” she questioned, with an unknowing look, but Tsu’tey hesitated to respond, “Is it about me?”

“You’re not… not here,” he revealed.

“I am not?”

Tsu'tey felt a lump form in his throat as he recounted the painful events that led to her passing. Silwanin listened patiently with a peaceful expression, as if everything started to finally make sense to her.

“I see,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “I wish you didn’t have to go through that alone, my love.”

Tsu'tey shook his head, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the emotions that flooded his heart. He was pulled him into a tender embrace, which made him weep like a child. For the first time in forever, it seemed like a weight was being lifted off Tsu’tey’s chest.

“Tell me about your life now,” Silwanin placed a hand on his cheek, eager to learn, “You’re the Olo’eyktan. Neytiri is a good mate to you, yes?”

“Neytiri is a good mate to Toruk Makto.”

“The Toruk Makto?” Silwanin widened her eyes. From Tsu’tey’s brief story, she recognized the dreamwalker, “But what about you?”

“I’m not mated with anyone.”

Silwanin pressed her lips together, seeming displeased with his answer. It hurt her to know that Tsu’tey wasn't moving on with his life and was torturing himself. He watched her expression change, and gulped down nervously, before confessing.

“There is someone… but I don’t know if I can be with her. Ever be with anyone.”

“Is she good to you?” Silwanin’s ears perked up in curiosity,

“She is,” he nodded with a sigh, “But I cannot make her happy..”

“Tsu’tey, of course you can,” she argued, “You are only torturing yourself if you’re pushing her away.”

“But what about you?”

“Stop worrying about me. I only wish for you to be happy, and if she can ease your worries and make you feel at peace, then who am I to stop you?”

Tsu’tey’s lip trembled at her words. Just like he remembered, Silwanin was understanding and kind, always looking out for him. And as always, she knew better than him what was right. He nodded slowly.

“It’s time to move on, Tsu’tey,” she smiled softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“You’re right,” he whispered, “I will always love you.”

“I know.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey returned back to the Home Tree, eager to find you and tell you he was a fool. His heart raced when he spotted your silhouette disappear into the thick greenery of the forest, but before he could follow after you, a pair of hands pressed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Tsu’tey let out a low growl of annoyance upon realizing that it was Jake standing in his way.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, brother? Haven’t seen you in weeks, and you’re already disappearing somewhere,” Jake teased, enjoying the sight of the Olo’eyktan becoming increasingly irritated.

“I have to find someone,” he mumbled, trying to walk away, but Jake was quick to block his path.

“Is that someone Y/N?”

“It is none of your business,” Tsu’tey spat out.

Jake stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Tsu’tey with an observant gaze. Tsu’tey felt his patience ran out, eager to end the conversation and follow after you, before you’d disappear. Then he realized.

“Why did you say Y/N?”

“Because Neytiri told me,” Jake responded, his tone suddenly turning more protective, “I didn’t believe it at first, but if it is true, you should be more considerate of Y/N’s feelings.”

Who was Jake Sully to get protective over you? To add on, who was he to protect you from Tsu’tey? As if he could ever hurt you. Tsu’tey stiffened at the thought.

“Neytiri shouldn’t have told you, it is none of your concern.”

“I think I get a little say in this, since Neytiri told you she was pregnant before she told me,” Jake answered. He waited for Tsu’tey to protest, but it seemed like the point was strong enough to keep him quiet, “Anyway, like I said, if you’re going to keep playing with Y/N, you should stop now.”

“Who said I was playing with her?” the Olo’eyktan suddenly felt defensive. Was it truly the way he was seen? Inconsiderate?

“It seems like it, she is a mess,” Jake continued, “Look, I don’t know her well, and I have no idea what went on between you two but it clearly affected her. Y/N is not well, Tsu’tey… Neytiri has been watching her every day since you left because she is concerned for her. So you either fix it, or you let Y/N move on, alright?”

“No, I will fix it,” Tsu’tey nodded with determination.

“Okay,” Jake stepped out of his path, “Okay, go fix it.”

Tsu’tey nodded again, his mind already focused on finding you, his feet carrying him through the bushes where he saw you disappear. He felt agonized, knowing that he hurt you so much it was obvious even to a skxawng like Jake. Tsu’tey didn’t even feel angry for getting scolded by him, because he had no one else to blame but himself.

His senses sharpened as he scanned the area for any sign of you. It didn't take him long to pick up your scent and follow your trail. As he walked, he felt a growing urgency to apologize to you, to tell you that he regretted his words. He didn't know if he could make things right, but he needed to try.

It felt like hours had passed when Tsu'tey finally caught sight of you up ahead, sitting on a fallen log and watching the river. You often came to this spot to wash off after meeting up with him, and as you sat there, your mind couldn't help but wander back to him. With your back turned, you didn't notice Tsu'tey lingering in the back, though you felt a presence nearby. It felt like your mind was playing tricks on you, but before you could turn to look, Takuk caught your attention.

Tsu’tey watched his trainee make his way over to you with a snarl. He felt a surge of jealousy and frustration at Takuk giving you a flower and you accepting it. He had been gone only for a few weeks, and Takuk already made a move? Were you only polite to accept the flower, or was it something more? Remaining hidden, Tsu’tey watched as you and Takuk talked. He could see Takuk's longing gaze but couldn't see your reaction, making him uneasy as he stared at your back.

Shifting on his feet, Tsu’tey was caught off guard when Takuk suddenly turned his face and spotted him. The Olo’eyktan cleared his throat, now forced to step into the open. His heart clenched when you turned around to face him, your eyes tracing his features.

The formalities were exchanged quickly, though Tsu’tey couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He hadn’t seen you in so long, it seemed like there was something different about you. His eyes roamed over your face again and again, and he felt like he was deprived of you, wanting to memorize every small line and engrave it into his mind. Tsu’tey wasn’t sure what exactly changed but he noticed the shift in your gaze - your usual adoration was no longer evident in your eyes, making room for anger? You seemed almost irritated to be in his presence.

“Takuk, may I ask you for a favor?” Tsu’tey spoke, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from you and focus on his trainee.

“Sure, what is it, chief?” Takuk responded eagerly, completely oblivious to the way you watched the Olo’eyktan.

“I want you to gather a meeting with the search party and the rest of the warriors. Make sure everyone is updated on what happened in the last weeks, so everyone’s informed. I will join you a little later and tell you of our next plans,” Tsu’tey ordered. Takuk nodded in confirmation.

Sending Takuk away meant that Tsu’tey would be alone with you, and that scared you. You didn't want to fall apart in front of him once more, not after finally coming to terms with the fact that it was over.

As his past trainee and a trusted warrior, Takuk often received small and big orders from the Olo’eyktan. And Tsu’tey did not lie; he was indeed planning on a meeting with the rest of his warriors to begin the work. But once again, it was clear to you that Tsu’tey's timing and orders were as intentional as a trained hunter hitting a bullseye.

“Y/N,” he spoke softly, your ears lowering instantly at the tone, though your mind was telling you to be angry, “I missed you.”

“No,” you shook your head firmly, “You don’t get to say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” Tsu’tey insisted, taking a step towards you, but you backed away from him, your heart hardened, “I’m sorry for the way I left things off.”

Unbelievable. After everything he had put you through, he had the audacity to show up like this and tell you he missed you? It was too late. The damage was done.

"You're sorry?" you scoffed, "Is that all?”

"No, I regret my words,” his eyes searched yours for a sign of forgiveness, “But I’ve changed. I am not that man anymore who couldn’t give you what you deserved. I’m not scared anymore.”

"It's too late for that, Tsu'tey," your voice was shaky, "I don’t want somebody who doesn’t want me… not anymore. I’ve learned my lesson. I moved on.”

Tsu'tey took another step towards you, but you held up a hand to stop him.

"Please, just go.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey never knew the true weight of jealousy until you. It was always easier with Silwanin. He was intimidating to begin with and the whole clan knew about his love for her, so nobody dared to even think about courting the chief’s oldest daughter. But having given Takuk a permission to court you himself and seeing you continue to spend time with that man, while ignoring Tsu’tey’s every attempt to talk to you, made him furious. As the Olo’eyktan, Tsu’tey felt corrupted to use his position to get back at Takuk. He became ruthless during the training at the camp, pointing out Takuk's mistakes in front of his own students. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help his anger.

Tsu’tey was also so desperate for your attention that he even forced himself to ask Neytiri for help. She scoffed at his request to seat you with him during the communal dinner but agreed to help anyway. Though, as she led you by the hand and you neared the circle, it was clear what she was trying to do. You pulled out of her grasp and sat down on the other side to avoid being near him. Reluctantly, Neytiri had to follow and sit down next to you, shooting an apologetic look to Tsu’tey. His heart sank once more at the failed attempt, and Jake had to reassure him with a nudge.

“Why won’t you speak with him?” Neytiri whispered, as you blatantly ignored Tsu’tey’s eyes piercing through you.

“I don’t want to have to do anything with him,” you replied harshly, occupying yourself with your food.

“He is truly sorry for the way he behaved,” she continued, trying to get it through you but you were too stubborn to listen.

The pain of being left by Tsu’tey was incomparable to anything you had ever experienced before. It cut so deep into your soul that you hardly recognized yourself anymore. You lost your appetite, with it, some weight, and the usual spark in your eyes. Mentally, you closed off and fortified your walls, to stop letting yourself hope. You refused to put yourself in a position where you were chasing after someone who didn't want you again. If Tsu’tey regretted his harshness towards you, then so be it. Your desire was to hold onto what little dignity remained, and if you let him close, it would have been completely gone.

“You’re wasting time,” Neytiri continued, “I have never seen him so desperate for anyone’s attention before.”

A big lump started to form in your throat: Neytiri always knew how to push your buttons. Your heart still swelled with the love for Tsu’tey but your mind was telling you to stay angry, not let him in. For once, you were listening to your mind instead of blindly following your heart. Not everything you love is good for you.

“Try some of this,” Tsu’tey’s voice rang loudly in your ears, your eyes quickly following his movements.

He crouched down in front of you, offering you a meat wrap in his open palm. All eyes seemed to be drawn to the chief kneeling in front of a regular clan member and sharing his food. It was a highly respected but rare gesture, usually perceived as a big compliment, or as a sign of courting? Your eyes darted between his hand stretched out towards you and his face wearing an expression of anticipation. You were acutely aware of the attention you were getting, and the more you stared at him, the more embarrassed you felt.

What was he trying to gain from you with a public gesture? Make you comply because of his title and give in? Did he think it would change things in private? You felt anger boiling up inside of you, as you announced as loud as you could.

“I am grateful for the gesture, Olo’eyktan Tsu’tey, but I feel ill, so I must refuse it. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you stood up, not giving him a chance to respond.

Tsu’tey, like the rest of the clan, stared after you, as you walked away, clutching at your stomach as if you were in pain. He had to swallow his pride once more and return to his spot. Tsu’tey listened quietly to everything that Jake was then telling him, about the ways humans courted each other, how he shouldn’t have put you into such a position, and it made him lose his appetite. Was the thought of him so disgusting to you?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You continued to turn a cold shoulder on Tsu’tey, whether he showed up at your home to talk and you would walk out on him, or he approached you when you were with others, occupied with anything else but him. Days and nights passed, but you just didn't understand what he wanted from you.

So you found yourself wandering deeper and deeper into the rainforest regularly, trying to lose yourself in the lush greenery. Your thoughts were consumed with the mistakes you had made, and you tried to convince yourself that Tsu’tey's intentions to apologize no longer mattered. You were fed up with feeling sad over him, and anger had taken its place, though you still yearned for his touch each night before you slept.

You were completely lost in your thoughts, when a low growl shattered through the quiet of the forest. A palulukan sprang in front of you, hissing furiously. Panic surged through you as you forced yourself to back away as slow as you could, though it was pointless. You were defenseless; running from a hungry palulukan was like playing into the dangerous game of a trapped helpless prey.

Just as you thought it was the end of your life, the palulukan slowly lowered its head to your height. A glimmer of recognition flickered in your mind as you took a deep breath. Was it possible that it recognized you? The palulukan cautiously took a few steps towards you, its growls softening as if it decided against attacking you.

“Y/N, stay back!” Tsu’tey yelled, leaping between you and the animal, arrow already aimed.

"No, don't shoot!" you cried out desperately, "It's her! The one we saved."

The animal jumped back with a low hiss, sniffing around Tsu’tey as it began to recognize the man who saved her. Tsu’tey glanced back at you, and as you nodded to confirm your words, he slowly lowered his weapon. But he remained in front of you protectively anyway.

“She grew twice her size,” he commented with an observing eye, a hint of pride evident in his voice.

The palulukan caught and recognized your scent, seeming to relax and slowly retreating, flicking its powerful tail in a sign of trust. You marveled at the sight, watching the animal leave and disappear into the dense flora. A breathy chuckle escaped from your mouth, and you stepped out from behind Tsu’tey to bid a farewell to the palulukan. Like a sign from Eywa… you could feel her presence. It wasn't a coincidence.

“What are you doing here? This is not a safe place to be,” Tsu’tey quickly snapped back to reality, addressing you harsher than he usually would.

“I can be wherever I want to be,” you put a distance between you.

"I don't want any member of my clan wandering this far alone and unarmed. Especially not you," he gestured to the empty space where your bow and arrow should have been. You fought the embarrassed blush - it was your slip up.

“I don’t need a babysitter. So stop following me around.”

“Not unless you talk to me,” he persisted.

You were growing irritated once again, crossing your arms on your chest. Arguing was wearing you down, sucking out all of the remaining energy.

“Then you talk, I have nothing to say to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he began, and you couldn’t help but scoff at the words, “I truly am. I was a fool to hurt you, to push you away. I was scared because I thought I couldn’t give you what you deserved.”

“I don’t know what you want for me, Tsu’tey. Forgiveness? Do you want me to take the apology and move on?” you questioned with a harsh tone, “Because I am trying to do what you wanted me to. I don’t protest Takuk’s courting, I stay away from you and I’m trying to move on no matter how much -”

“I see you,” he interrupted, stepping closer to you.

“You see me,” you repeated confusedly, but your tail wagged aimlessly, betraying the small pang of excitement. Did he really mean it?

“I do, I see you,” he nodded, lowering himself to the ground in front of you, “Please, give me a chance.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of Tsu’tey kneeling, his hands wrapped gently around your ankles. You stared down at him, observing the way his face etched with true regret and something else? Like there was an admiration for you.

“What are you doing, Tsu’tey?” you swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything," he spoke desperately, his grip tightened as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, "I tried to push my feelings for you away, but they were too strong to fight. I can't bear the thought of you being with anyone else but me… I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

"Love?" Your eyes darted back and forth between his, trying to find any hint of lying, but all you saw was sincerity.

“Yes, I have fallen for you completely. My mind and body belong to you… my heart belongs to you now,” he whispered, as his hands reached for yours.

Tsu’tey, the man who had once claimed he could never love you, was now on his knees pleading with you to give him a chance. His eyes were glistening with tears, and you unintentionally mirrored him, feeling your own starting to roll down your cheeks.

All this time, you had thought he wanted your forgiveness for his harshness, but what he really wanted was to be with you. His heart belonged to you? You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to wake up from what felt like another one of your nightly dreams. But it was real. Tsu’tey had confessed his love for you, and it was entirely real.

“Can you find it in your heart to take pity on a foolish, cowardly man like me? Do you think you could ever love me back?” he looked up at you with so much hope. Tsu’tey refused to back down now, when he had it all out in the open.

“Tsu’tey,” you let out, freeing your hand from his grasp. He would have died on the spot sensing rejection if you hadn’t brought your hand to cup his cheek tenderly. “I have loved you since we were kids, you know that, don’t you?”

“Truly?” he whispered, leaning his face into your touch, “Even after everything I did?”

“Always, no matter what happens, I could never stop loving you,” you confessed, lowering yourself to kneel in front of him.

Tsu’tey searched your eyes for any sign of doubt, his mind struggling to keep up with your words. But the way you looked at him was unmistakable; he had seen that loving, eager gaze before. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, tasting his own tears mixed with yours. You shivered at the feeling that was so different, yet so pleasant. He loved you. Tsu’tey loved you!

Infectious warmth was spreading through you, and it felt like you were dreaming. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palm. Tsu’tey took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently.

“Tsaheylu,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

You’d be his, he’d be yours. He was scared that you’d push him away, but as you reached out to bring out your kuru, an abiding affection filled him from head to toe. He rushed to bring out his forward too, and as you were close to connecting, you couldn’t help but whisper.

“I see you,” you said, meeting Tsu’tey’s gaze.

“I see you,” he replied, a smile spreading across his face.

Your kurus connected, forming a tsaheylu, and you leaned forward and kissed him again, feeling the power of it coursing through your body. It was like the two halves were becoming one, and you could feel everything Tsu’tey felt. All of the doubts and fears were slipping away now that you had proof he was telling the truth, he loved you, and his mind and body were consumed by the thoughts of you. Tsu’tey felt your love too, everything you ever told him and did for him was with the intention of loving him… being hopelessly devoted to him. He could sense the way your heart raced and synced with the beat of his own.

As Tsu’tey continued to kiss you with an almost feverish intensity, it caused a rush of warmth to spread through your body. His kisses were gentle yet urgent, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he didn't show you enough affection. You couldn't help but hold him tight, wanting to feel his warmth and closeness after being apart for so long.

You ran your fingers through his braided hair, marveling at how much you missed the feeling. The way his lips moved across your cheek, your forehead, your jawline - leaving hot traces on your skin. His fingers tracing the curves of your body. Him exploring you like he was discovering you for the first time.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey was desperate to show you his regret, how he truly felt miserable for hurting you. He was forgetting that you could feel it too, as he committed to absorbing every little sound you made, his lips moving over your folds, long digits stretching you out simultaneously. He was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but squeeze him with your thighs, letting out a loud whimper when he sucked on your clit.

“Tsu’tey, please,” you whispered, your limbs starting to tremble at the tension in your core, “I need to feel you.”

He hummed against you, sending pleasant vibrations to your sensitive button. It was difficult to hold himself back but Tsu’tey wanted to pour out all of his love to you in the moment, to show how much he prioritized your happiness. You, you, you. It’s all you could hear in his thoughts, how he ignored the painful tension in his own body before sending a wave of pleasure through yours. You throbbed around his digits, fingers falling to his hair as you pulled his mouth away from you. He gazed into your half-lidded eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you melting underneath him. At the feeling of your pleasure spreading through you and flowing with a taintest wave back to his own head.

He then rocked into you gently, slowly, savoring the moment. And you didn’t mind. You missed having him nestled in between your hips, angling himself in a way to pleasure you, to reach that spot inside you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. He groaned, the tsaheylu intensifying every feeling in every nerve of his body. You kissed him again and again, becoming one with Tsu’tey, letting all of the pain slip away and make place for love.

The idea of his pleasure only heightened yours, and you could feel the knot tightening within you as the pressure built up. Tsu’tey picked up his pace, whispering your name and confessing his love, but you couldn’t hear him. As your bodies intertwined, the thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air. You came, squeezing him so desperately, he was forced to follow right after you. Your moans vanished and disappeared into the back of his throat.

He had been so lost before, so broken and shattered, but with you by his side, everything seemed to fall into place. Your touch was like a balm to his wounded soul, healing the scars of the past. And the way you looked at him - with such tenderness - made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

Tsu’tey pulled away slightly, hovering over you with an observant gaze. You couldn’t help but smile hazily at the feeling of him still inside you, reaching to cup his cheek. He knew it. You were completely his for the rest of your life. How could he ever think you were a distraction when you were his cure all along? All of the self-loathing and hatred he felt seemed so unimportant when he had someone like you love him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You couldn’t get enough of each other, and it’s been weeks since Tsu’tey and you became mates. Yet, no matter how much time you spent together, you always rushed to him at the end of your day. It was mostly with you in his arms, spending restless nights of passion, and conversations about the future, as you went to sleep. It was one of those nights when you laid on his chest, in a peaceful quiet, when Tsu’tey broke it.

"I've been thinking about something," he said softly, tracing circles on your back.

"Mhm, what is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a curious smile.

Oh, how he loved your smile! It was all he yearned for now that he got a taste of seeing you so happy. With him! Tsu’tey still couldn’t believe that he could make you smile and laugh so much, your cheeks hurt. All it took him was to admit his love, and your heart was healing alongside his, quickly, beating loyally for the other’s. He leaned in to kiss you softly, something he did often mid-conversations because he couldn’t keep it in anymore. Now that it was out in the open and you were mated, Tsu’tey quickly learned to stop worrying about everybody else but you. So if he wanted to hold you during communal dinners, he’d do just that, completely oblivious to your ashamed flushed face.

“I had this dream last night… And many nights before that too.”

"What was it about?" you raised an eyebrow in surprise. He rarely shared his dreams with you, because he found it to be pointless.

"It was about us," a smile spread across his face, quickly mirroring on your own, "I saw a big family. I also felt Eywa’s presence in it."

You felt your heart skip a beat at the mention of having a family, the idea of one with a man of your dreams was unsettling, overflowing. You have been in love with him for so long, it was still hard to believe he was yours sometimes. So having Tsu’tey dream about having a family with you made you emotional. Noticing your intense thinking, Tsu’tey wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you close. He had learnt his lesson, there would be nothing more unspoken left in between you. He did not wish to hurt you again.

"I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and raise a family.”

"I would love that," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. He grinned.

"Then it's settled," he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt grateful to Eywa for the man lying next to you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

THE END

But wait, I have a bonus thingy (I didn’t know where to include it so):

Despite you slowly getting used to the idea of being the Olo’eyktan’s mate and getting more involved in his duties, you cannot seem to get back to yours. It is difficult to face Mo’at again, to take up healing, which you were so sure was your calling. Did you truly deserve to be a Tsahik? What if you were not talented enough? This killed Tsu’tey, as he would have preferred nobody else but you to become the clan’s healer.

He spent days trying to talk to you about it, having already announced his news of finding a mate to Mo’at. She wasn’t surprised to hear it, knowing that her hunch was always right, but you refusing to follow your tsakarem path upset her. Tsu’tey was determined to change that. When he saw his words were typically swayed by you into a different topic, he would send people to talk to you. It began with Jake and Neytiri, some of your healer friends, eventually he even asked Mo’at to scold you for your stubbornness, so you avoided her the best you could.

His plan outgrew itself when random clan members would come into your hut injured and ask for help, but sensing that it was his orders, you would send them away to seek help from Tsahik.

To say that getting injured was unintentional would be a lie; the idea of rushing to you for help seemed like a solution to Tsu’tey. After all, you would treat your mate if he was hurt, right? It was a stupid plan and you’d probably get mad at him for being careless, maybe not talk to him for a day, but if it could spark that interest again, why not take the risk? He learned from Jake Sully that all is fair in love and war.

When Tsu’tey stumbled into your hut with a loud groan, your eyes immediately spotted traces of red all over his thigh. You rushed to him to help him sit, scanning for other injuries, your heart racing with worry.

“Tsu’tey, what happened?” you questioned him.

“Jumped into the bushes from my ikran and scraped my leg, but I’m alright,” he groaned.

“You have blood,” you pointed out, “I’ll get Tsahik.”

“No, yawne,” he put his hand over your thigh to stop you from getting up, “I want you to help me.”

“It's better for Tsahik to do it. I don’t know how,” you shook your head, the two of you knowing well it was a lie. You were perfectly capable of cleaning him up in a matter of minutes.

“Y/N,” he said softer this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, “Please would you help your mate?”

You stopped the protest, the red painted on his thigh seeming to reason with you. Then nodded with a small sigh before getting up to gather some supplies from your stash. Tsu’tey couldn’t help a satisfied smile that creeped onto his lips, as he watched you work. His wound wasn’t as bad as it looked, he cut skin which caused the bleeding, but it wasn’t deep enough to bother him.

You worked quickly, feeling the way his eyes lingered on you, reminding you of the time when he first came in with a broken arm into the Tsahik’s hut. You looked up at Tsu’tey to find a glimmer in his eyes with a wicked smirk he was desperately trying to hide.

“This looked worse than it actually is,” you noted, finishing up, “Why are you smiling?”

“No reason,” Tsu’tey shrugged, “Just happy to see you back in your element.”

“I am not back in my element,” you huffed, putting the supplies aside and shifting in your seat to face him, “Why would you even jump off your ikran without landing first?”

“I don’t know, just wanted to jump,” Tsu’tey said but his growing smirk was raising your suspicions.

“Do you think that I’d believe an Olo’eyktan would go off jumping his ikran mid-flying, as if he was a fresh warrior?” you questioned with an angry flare in your voice, “I can see right through you, Tsu’tey. This was careless… stupid of you.”

“But yawne, admit it, it felt good to treat me, right?” Tsu’tey ignored your scolding, hand reaching out to pull you to his chest.

You were genuinely upset with him for going the extra mile for you, but you couldn’t help it when he was so sweet. His arms wrapped around your middle, burying his face in the back of your head with a satisfied hum.

“Tsu’tey, it is not funny,” you tried to continue with anger, but it came out too low, “You shouldn’t injure yourself like that for me.”

“I just want to see you do what you like to do. Is it so bad to wish you used your talents?”

“I don’t have talent for healing -”

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he interrupted.

You fell quiet. He was being sweet the past week, trying everything to get you back into healing.

“Fine, I’ll give it another chance…” you trailed off, and it took a moment for him to turn you around with a joyous laughter and kiss you with all the gratitude he felt.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Oh, and bonus canons to resolve some of the plots:

Takuk found out about you being mated with Tsu’tey soon after, being one of the first.

he came to ask you to spend time with him when saw Tsu’tey come out of your hut

later that day he felt the change not only in your mood but also in your scent, and it all clicked in his head

being respectful of his Olo’eyktan and having doubts from the beginning that there was some truth to the rumors, Takuk didn’t take it to his heart

his whole life he looked up to Tsu’tey and he was happy to see the man beaming with love

you and Tsu’tey both felt bad for leaving things unanswered but eventually it passed

there was no more tension Tsu’tey felt between himself and Takuk

Neytiri threw the fact that you’re together into Jake’s face almost every day

every time they saw you two, Jake got ready to receive that satisfied smirk from Neytiri

of course, it was her who found out about you mating with Tsu’tey

the second they saw each other on the next day after your mating, they exchanged a knowing look

he thought it’d be fair to tell Neytiri first for everything she did for him

you quickly slipped into your usual self, even happier than you were before Tsu’tey and it didn’t go unnoticed

while it was a bit sudden to them, the clan mostly reacted well when they saw Tsu’tey hold your hand

eventually everyone realized that happy Tsu’tey = happy clan, so no one dared to even think anything negative

you and Tsu’tey began to make your own place, in the meantime, he would come and spend time at your hut

he’d sometimes finish up his chores for the day earlier to come and fetch you from Mo’at

she was not eager to let you go but she couldn’t say no when she saw your smile whenever Tsu’tey walked in

and though you had your doubts at first, after the tsaheylu, trusting Tsu’tey was the easiest thing you had to do

after feeling what he felt for you and hearing him reassure you every night, you felt like the most important person to him

which you are

Tsu’tey was grateful for finding you, after losing everything else

as lessons went by, it was only logical that Mo’at announced you to be the new tsakarem

connecting with Eywa became one of your favorite things, as you were not ashamed of what you had or didn’t have anymore

your connection grew stronger and often you got signs from her, one of the perks of being the future Tsahik

the love between you and Tsu'tey also grew stronger with each passing day, and you felt like you've finally found your purpose

Jake always said something about you falling for Tsu’tey first, but him falling for you harder

you’re not sure what it really meant but he assured you it was a good thing back on earth, !!!romantic!!!

of course, Tsu’tey and you started discussing having kids (like a few weeks in) but decided to hold on to it for a little bit longer, so that you could focus on each other and your new duties

but it didn’t take too long until you gave in…

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (since this is the last chapter, if you guys want to be moved to my regular taglist please let me know): @mechformers @xx-mayday-martyr-xx @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr @live-laugh-neteyam @cawi00 @sovereignsylvia @wifey0209 @jakescumdump @vxncxntt @avatarbyamara @vviviivvivivivvivivivi @aracelikara @brooklynscherry-z @teyums @bestwlwmonster @totesnothere04 @n7cje @suntizme @weasleytwinwheezes @neteyamslovrr @crustskullz @vane28282 @youngbananamilkshake @elissanatok @perplexing-vex @zoetrope1997 @yeosxxx @kurogxrix @sakura-onesan @saltedcoffeescotch @daeneeryss @silententhusiastdreamer @omnifanfic @skyofnight @stargirlrchive @doromoni @anxietydrogz @marsbars09 @deliciousdilfmentality @theunfortunateplace @tinystarfishgalaxy @mayonaise-mmm @marsbars09 @faerienotfound @ohshititsfenharel @meowiemari @ttkttt @arsonfrogger @isabel-ffl-xoxo

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ghostbustting · 5 months ago

Note

Hii :)

could I request smth for Izzy (gnr) where reader is one of Duff's siblings and Izzy's into her, and she's been picking up on that but thinks that it's impossible because she finds herself to be really plain/boring (not insecure per se but confused), so she kind of ignores his advances and eventually he gets really frustrated and when theyre alone he kind of bursts and tells her to just reject him out loud instead of leading him on, and then frustrated smut ensues?

😭sorry if this is overly specific

have a great day/ night! -🕸️

Finally a request for my man SHJSBSJABA🙈

╰┈➤“𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼„ ๋࣭⭑

Izzy Stradlin x McKagan!Reader

Contains Smut

The coldness of a typical December’s night always had it’s way to get to me, despite being someone who would enjoy playing around in the snow all winter. Layers of sweaters is a must in this season, obviously. Though usually, in these type of situation, I’d burry myself under a whole bunch of layers of blankets, take a hot bath, or make myself something warm and comforting to drink.

This time, I decided to make a hot cup of coffee, craving that slightly bitter taste on my tongue that would warm up my throat and my stomach from all the freezing weather out there in the world.

Walking into the kitchen of my own house, I was greeted by a raven black hair, that was obviously dyed, standing in the way, a figure blocking my way from the kitchen counter, a figure that’s clearly not a part of my family.

I swear to God, I don’t remember my brother Duff being such a fucking twink, dye his blond hair into raven, and losing a few inch of his giraffe-like height.

Then it took me awhile to realize and get it in my head that the guy standing in front of me was Izzy Stradlin, one of Duff’s stupid bandmates. I sigh in relief to know Duff hadn’t gone that dumb as to go all black hair and lose what he would call his ‘chick magnet of a height’.

“Excuse me,” I say softly, rushing past Izzy in order to grab my mug from the top cabinet.

I never really found the right words to describe the Jeffrey Dean Isbell. He was.. intriguing, in a way, always had been. The first thing I noticed about him was his slightly mysterious demeanor of staying quiet most of the time with his literal monkeys and baboons of friends, including my brother obviously.

The second thing I noticed was the way he would just sit back with a cigarette casually sitting between his lips, the way he play as a rhythm guitarist in their band, the way his fingers strum those chords, the way he dresses so oddly appealing.

At first I always thought I made a bad first impression on him to the point he didn’t talk to me a lot when I was around, but lately I found myself thinking it’s a whole different reason.

Because the third thing I noticed about him is the way lately, he’d look at me up and down each time I enter the room or walk by him, he started talking to me, praising me now and then— not too subtle, but not too hidden for me to be oblivious about it. He’d throw his cigarette away when I’m nearby, knowing I’m not a smoker, he’d also mess up his guitar chords when I’m at their practices.

I’d respond with the same thing, small smiles, small chit-chat, assisting him with his guitar when one of the strings broke, making lunch for the band, my eyes meeting him when I hand his food. The little antics he’d put on whenever I’m around him starts to make me get my hopes up and think he might actually be into me.

But when I think about it again, I find it impossible. Why would he? He hung around groupies, his band’s back dancers, random club whores. And out of all those choices he just happen to be interested in me? As far as I concerned, I was plain. Boring. I dress just like all other girls, yet I always failed to make myself look as attractive as they do.

Looks aren’t really something I prioritize that much. But I can’t help but find it confusing how he acts like I’m special to him. Or perhaps he treats every other girl he’s comfortable with like this.

So with my doubt, I decided to just ignore his little shenanigans.

I start to make my coffee, stirring it till it’s completely mixed nicely. I can feel Izzy’s gaze on me as I do so, hearing a sigh from him while he stay standing there like a statue, his lips slightly parted as if words were urging to slip past them and into my ears.

There always were some sort of different vibe washing over both of us whenever it’s just us two. The clock was ticking, we were quiet yet the tension speaks loud enough for us. I try to stay quiet and keep my eyes on my coffee as I lift my mug up to my lips and take a sip.

A sigh escapes me as the freshly made coffee warms up my throat, licking up the liquid that managed to drop on my lip, a pair of eyes burns a hole at the side of my head like a magnifying glass using the power of sunlight.

Only, there is no sunlight. The reminder fills me with coldness again as I blow air into my hand and rub them together, desperate to feel heat forming in my palms. That’s when I hear his voice, “Are you feeling cold?” His voice was monotone as usual, but if you hear closely you can hear just enough genuine care in that same exact voice.

Or I was hallucinating again.

I nod my head quietly, “Mhm.” My answer came out shorter than how I would usually answer his questions or statements, not even looking up at him even though I’d always look into his eyes so deeply in our conversations.

I hear him sigh yet again, leaning against the counter next to me this time as I take another sip of my coffee. I slowly raise my head to look up at him, trying to find out what emotion he’s feeling at the moment, yet always finding it hard through his casual straight face that he wear most of the time.

“You uh.. a coffee person?”

I raise an eyebrow at his random question. It’s not the first time he did this, but it just feels so awkward this time. Looking down again and shrugging with a nod, I hum “Mhm..”

“You look lovely tonight.”

My heart stops and my cheeks turned slightly pigmented with a tint of pink. For a guy so quiet and closed most of the times, I find it flattering to hear him compliment me like this. His choice of words; “Lovely” makes my mind get dizzy. But I had to remind myself that he was probably just being nice.

With another nod and a small voice, “Thanks..” I spoke, “You—”

This time though, before I could start speaking more, he cut me off with a small groan as his hand rub his face, “Jesus, just reject me already..” He muttered under with a sigh that sounded more irritated than the previous sighs he let out.

Lifting my head up, my eyes met his green ones. He throw his head back and roll his eyes, sitting slightly on the edge of the counter. I gulped and slowly answer him, “Sorry? I don’t understand what you—”

“Oh don’t act fucking dumb.”

Taken aback by his words, I lean back and tilt my head. “Excuse me?” I scoff, raising an eyebrow at him in a way of showing the way I feel offended by his words. I have no idea what his problem is with me. At first he compliment me, and now he’s acting irritated all of a sudden?

He laughed bitterly and look at me, “This. This is what I mean.” He spoke, pushing his slightly greasy raven hair back with his fingers. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s hesitant to continue his sentence, his eyes turning back down to his shoes. “You know what you’re doing. It’s not fair, you know? You- you look at me with those fucking eyes, talk to me, lead me on and at the end you—”

“What?!”

I blurted out a little too loud. My eyes widen as I almost spat out the coffee I was previously sipping on. I didn’t expect him to say that. Leading him on? How did he get that? Was I really giving that impression on him? Despite finding myself getting flustered by his antics here and there, I was never the type to flirt first. I can never bring myself to make a first move.

Izzy let out yet another shaky sigh as he ruffle up his own hair, messing it up a little. He seems oddly frustrated, a hint of uneasiness in the way he stand. “What? You clearly know I have a thing for you and- and—”

“You have WHAT?” I cut him off yet again, my eyes widening even more to the point they might pop out of their sockets. His words rang in my ears again and again, a feeling of disbelief washing over me when I realize what he said. “I.. I didn’t know..”

As conscious as I was all the time of his small gestures, I would’ve never thought my assumptions would turn out to be true. And even now, I don’t even know whether he was saying the truth or just meaningless words to me just to play me in the end like rock stars like him would typically do to any vulnerable girls that came across their way.

I took a step back and lean against the kitchen island behind me, my hand coming to rest on the edges of it as I look down and try to process the situation again, or rather trying to decide whether he was genuine or not, very careful with my decision.

He’s kind, always was. I never had a problem with him unlike Duff’s other friend that would start an argument with me every little minutes. Izzy was rather.. closed yet considerate towards me.

“You don’t believe me huh?” He started again, sighing. I look up at him, my eyes giving away the hesitance in me. Then, Izzy slowly start walking my way, sending a wave of nervousness in me when he got even closer, all the way till he’s right in front of my face, his hands besides mine on the edge the island.

With this proximity, it was so much easier looking at the small details in his face, how lighter the green in his eyes seems to shine, the nose piercing that’ll look somewhat invisible if you don’t look close enough, the smallest imperfection in his almost perfect face, at least that’s what I see when I look at him. I didn’t even realize how he’s slowly leaning even closer into me.

Looking down at me, he ask, “Does your brother take long when he go out?” His voice is now slightly smaller, my eyes slowly avoid his gaze and look at the floor instead as I nod my head to his questions.

“..Then will you let me prove my feelings before he comes back?”

My heart beat accelerates on it’s own, my chest heaving up an down as I take deep breaths and let them out in shaky and heavy ones. I found it hard to speak with how nervous and aroused he makes me. He was older than my brother, let alone the age gap between him and me. But I really can’t help this overwhelming feeling building up inside me.

One small sex. That’s it. If my feeling say it’ll go south, then I’ll bury this memory away.

“..Fine..”

And with those four letter word, something switched up in him, as if he found it as a green light. His hands immediately went to my cheeks, cupping them as he connect his lips to mine.

My eyes light up before slowly fluttering close with the feeling of his slightly dry lips rubbing right against mine, my hips being held close to him by his hands.

All the concern I had floated away when his tongue swiftly slips past my lips and meet mine, making me gasp a little at the taste of him. He tasted.. oddly sweet.

Or perhaps it was just the lust in me that made me feel all these kinds of feelings. Nevertheless, I was loving it. Too much, perhaps.

My arms snakes up and wrap around his neck, pulling him in even closer as he lift my hips up and place me to sit on the kitchen island, my lips staying on him the whole time.

I can feel his hands on my thighs, he was massaging them while slowly parting them, pulling me closer to the edge of the island while his fingers trails up to the waistband of my pants.

My eyes widen and I pull back from the kiss before I place my hand over his to pause him, he looked over at me and press one last peck on my lips, “Trust me.” He whisper, his voice way too reassuring to deny, “Please..?” His eyes stays on mine while he slowly kneel down on the floor.

The breath I exhaled became more heavy and shaky by the time he pull down my pants, letting it drop to the floor with him, the only thing stopping him from getting to my cunt is the already soaked fabric of my panties.

I watch silently as he lean closer to my clothed cunt, his finger lightly running up and down the soaked part of my panties, making me gasp when I can feel his finger right through the thin fabric.

Slowly, he began to pull down my panties. I was already forgetting how to breathe when he place the panties close to his nose, taking a good sniff of it before shucking it into his pocket.

Then.. I yelped when he dove into my pussy like there was no tomorrow, pulling me by my thighs and placing them on his shoulder.

My back arched when he began sucking on my clit harshly, two of his fingers making their way between my folds, pumping in and out of it while I make the dirtiest noises ever that echoes right through the empty house.

My hand reach up and hold onto his hair, pulling his face closer. “Fuck! Izzy..” I moaned, my legs shaking as he continued on and on with his action.

His fingers worked like magic, curling up at the perfect position that can pull out even louder noises from me. Meanwhile his mouth continued to suck and nibble on my clit, driving me insane with pleasure.

I can already feel a knot forming in my stomach, grinding against his fingers and face as I reach closer and closer to my release. “..’M close..!”

That’s when he pulled back and stopped my release.

I look at him with wide eyes, “Wha- why’d you stop?” I panted out, my legs still shakint from how much he drove me insane just by using his mouth and fingers.

But by the time his pants along with his boxers fall down to the floor, I knew I was in for a main course. My eyes widened yet again when I noticed the size of his cock and how it curves up a little.

Suddenly, he pushes me to the middle of the island before climbing up on it himself, towering over me while his hands were pinning my shoulders down to the hard cold surface where I would usually find myself use for eating.

My eyes stays on him the whole time while he held my hip in one hand and the tip of his cock in the other, he seems very.. concentrated.

I held in deep breaths when he start pushing through my folds and into me, the both of us let out groans of pleasure from the new feeling while he slowly push in even deeper.

“Iz..” I whimper as my back arch when he managed to get all of his cock stuffed inside me, both of his hands on my hips now as he starts to thrust in and out of me. His length stretched me out, my small whimpers becoming moans.

Izzy himself moaned when he found the right pace, speeding up his movement. “You’re so tight.. fuck..” He grunted out, his hold on my hips becoming firmer.

When he lean down to kiss on my neck, my hands immediately flew to his back, clawing on his shirt and taking it off him before I throw it away. His cock continues to pump in and out of me, hitting the right spots every single time.

I moaned and held onto his back, my nails surely leaving scratch marks on his skin. My lips parted when his hips starts ramming back and forth into me desperately, my legs shaking from how fast he was going. “Fuck!” I cried out, trying to pull him even closer to me.

His face was burried deep in my neck, I didn’t even notice how he had left a secret mark right behind my ear, whispering, “I want you.. I wanted you for so long.. why can’t you fucking understand that..?” He grunts in my ear, his voice a sweet melody my ears record to remember for another night.

“Faster.. faster please..!” I moaned out.

And that’s exactly what he did, he lean back up and hold my hips even more tighter, I was sure his fingers would be leaving a mark. His hips starts ramming even more fast, not faltering even for a second. He just kept going.

He was able to let out the sweetest yet dirtiest moan out of me, making my bsck arch at the same time as my fingers try to find something to hold onto, to which he offered out his hand for me to hold.

I gripped onto his hand and arm tightly, “So good, so good..” I cried out, squirming still underneath him.

That’s when the knot from earlier returns even tighter now. This time I just cannot hold it in any longer, “I’m coming..!” I gasped out when my release came gushing out of me, dripping down my cunt tha’s still being pumped by him.

“Oh shit.. mm.. shit shit!” Izzy suddenly pulled out and grip his cock tightly on my stomach, jerking himself off till white streaks of his cum flew out, messing up my shirt.

He then slowly fall onto me, he wasn’t that much of a buff guy, so his weight didn’t surprised me that much. I slowly wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close to me as we pant for breath, still shocked from our deeds.

He was the first to speak up, his voice becoming soft yet again, “Sorry about your shirt.. and the island..” He whisper, “I’ll clean them up..” His head was resting my chest, ear pressed onto my skin as he listen closely to my heartbeat.

“Don’t worry.” I whisper back and stroke his hair with my fingers, feeling the softness of it.

That’s when he look up at me and let out a shaky breath, “So.. what- do you believe me now..?” He ask, a hint of hope in his eyes that are silently pleading with me to say yes.

Looking away, I sigh and close my eyes, my mind trying to come up with the correct respond to voice out. “I don’t.. I don’t know..”

Looking back at Izzy, I can see all the hope in his eyes crushed up as his head fall back on my chest. I continue to run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of guilt for crushing his hope within seconds. “I’m sorry..” I whisper.

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, mumbling “I’ll wait for you..”

Though my mind made my answer unsure, there was something nudging me in my heart, something telling me that this boy on my chest was being genuine. I couldn’t help but look down at his face, his eyes closed and he looked so peaceful. My heart had an urge to accept him into my world, but my mind told me to wait for the right moment.

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