#he had his hand in a death grip the whole ride home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cattordi · 11 days ago

Text

a/n 𓇼 hey friend! i’m trying to post more about different celebrities/characters they play that i fantasize abt. hope u enjoy

summary 𓇼 you run in on rafe doing lines

pairings 𓇼 rafe cameron x reader

warnings 𓇼 smut (p in v), fingering, daddy kink, not proofread, drugs/rafe being high(coke), rafe influencing reader(you don’t do coke though), alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, topper walking in, rough sex. 18+ MINORS DNI

don’t tell

stumbling onto the couch, your head lands in kies lap. she smiles down at you in your drunken state, “do you need help getting home? jj and i were about to leave.”

sarah invited you, jj, john b, kie, and pope all to a party at her house full of kooks; you were suprised no one had fought yet. “nooo i think im good,” you begin dragging out the o,”i’ll get a ride from.”

“okay,” kie says and stands while making sure your head doesn’t hit the couch too hard, “love you babe,” she says and walks away going to find jj.

standing up, you walk to the kitchen to get another drink when you run into topper. he smiles at you as his hands grab your waist tightly, “look what we have here,” he says and looks you up in down,”what’re you doing on this side of the island y/n?”

you cock your head to the side, eyeing the beer bottles behind him. his hands on your waist make you want to vomit; you’ve never really cared for topper. he was such a snobby asshole and he used his wealth as an excuse for everything.

if he hit you with his truck, it’s ok because he paid for darker tint and couldn’t see you. he poisoned your drink, it’s ok because he paid for the glass you drank out of.

“y/n?” topper says and you look at him, “what topper?”

“wanna come to the after party? it’s at my house.”

reaching around him you grab a bottle; using the counter top to open it. “i don’t think so.. i’m already drunk enough.”

he pulls you closer towards him, “come on y/n..”

you take a few seconds to answer, “hm.. i have to pee.” with that you break free from his death grip.

even though you had been to sarah’s house a million times, in this moment you were so out of it; you were just opening doors. you open every door on the right side of the hall; some open some not, until you get to the last door.

without hesitating you fling the door open; revealing rafe with his nose a few inches from a small wooden coffee table; white powder is presented in a straight line

that sobers you right up.

rafe looks up at you with dilated eyes. “i’m- i’m so sorry.” you apologize.

the irritated look on his face softens slightly but doesn’t leave his face completely, “you’re good.. just learn to knock.” rafe scans your body as he says this. a black amex card sits on the table along with a few one dollar bills next to it. you begin walking out the room, dying of embarrassment but he stops you, “y/n?”

slowly you turn on your heel, “hm?” he’s glaring at you with a mischievous look on his face, he motions to the couch next to him. “sit.”

“i don’t think i-“

“y/n just please fucking sit.” he insisted.

slowly, you move over to sit next to him. the feeling of having to use the restroom has left and so has the queasy feeling of alcohol. you’re officially sober.

rafe sits back in the seat, keeping his eyes on you. his khakis spread across his crotch as he manspreads.

“look im sorry about this. it was a whole big misunderstanding. i was just looking for the bathroom and walked into the wrong room. i’m so so-“ you begin but he cuts you off.

“y/n stop apologizing.”

“okay.. well then why’d you tell me to sit?”

a small smile plays on his lips, “you look good.” he continued; completely ignoring your question. looking down at your outfit you eye your jean shorts, platform converse, and tank top.

good is not what you expected considering your outfit took 3 seconds to come up with as you were running out the door to get here.

“y’ever got high y/n?” rafe says motioning towards the line on the table. shaking your head, he leans forward snorting the line. “don’t start.” he begins and shakes his head rapidly at the feeling of the strong drunk taking over, “even though it makes you feel fucking fantastic, don’t start.”

even though you never had plans of doing coke, you wanted to know why. “why? you do it but you’re telling me not too. that’s very hypocritical rafe.”

chuckling to himself lowly, “because i can say what i want y/n. you know that.” he says while wiping his nose.

silence falls among the two of you, “let me snort a line off you.”

shock covers your face causing him to chuckle, “yeah i don’t think so rafe.”

“c‘non y/n.” he begins and leans towards you. his eyes are on yours, “you look so good.. just let me get my fix. nothing more, nothing less.”

you sit while thinking. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? as long as any residue was wiped off you immediately. “..whatever. get it over with.”

he smiles with a look of accomplishment, “where do you wanna.. y’know?”

his eyes shoot to your tits. “i don’t have a bra on rafe.”

“i didn’t ask that. lay back and slide your top down.”

“but rafe-“

“lay back.” he says sternly.

you do as you’re told, laying back onto the couch’s cold leather. you take the straps of your shirt and slide them down your shoulders, only far down enough that your nipples aren’t shown.

rafe grabs a small bag twisted to the corner; full of coke. he opens it, pouring it onto the table and beginning the process of graining it with the card and making line.

after a few seconds, he scoops the line off the table with his card and sets it between your boobs. he stands up moving to be vertical next to your horizontal body. kneeling down next to you, he maintains eye contact. “are you sure you want to do this? because one wrong movement of the wind,” we both look down at the line, “and you’re fucking addicted y/n.”

he’s right. you hadn’t thought of it that way; if the drug even got blown on the wrong way everyone at the party would be high. but you’re stuck in place, instincts taking over; you nod.

“your call baby.”

baby is all you hear before his nose is mere inches from your body. the closest you guys had been, ever. he snorts the line with so much ease, you don’t even have time to register.

you notice he leaves a bit of it left which causes you to furrow your brows before he blows a bit in the direction down your body, lightly enough that it doesn’t go everywhere or into the air.

“oops.” he sighed, “guess i got carried away.” rafe says and turns to look at you, “let me get it.” the coke is now resting directly above your belly button.

“can i just go wipe it off rafe?”

“i paid for that.. so unless you’re willing to pay me back every dime then sure go right ahead.” his eyes are now dark, keeping strong eye contact. you inhale and exhale strongly before mumbling a quiet, “go ahead.”

you couldn’t lie, having him this close made you feel things. things that you wouldn’t typically feel with any guy; let alone rafe. even though he had always been attractive to you.

you pull up the bottom of your top but rafe stops you. “take it off y/n.”

slowly, you pull the top up and over your head making sure to not move too much. rafe watches you intently, a small smile on his race. “good girl.” he mumbles under his breath before pushing your shoulders back into the couch.

your tits are out and basically in his face; your nipples are hard from anticipation. your pussy is wet just at the thought of this going beyond him snorting coke off you.

rafe reaches over for the card, taking it against your skin and straightening to line of coke. he snorts it quickly, leaving nothing behind.

silence falls between the two of you as rafe wipes his nose.

you move to pull your top back on but rafe stops you, “lay down.” he says sternly, “let me clean you off.” before you can protest, his wet hot tongue is on your stomach, starting above your belly button and moving up to your chest; looking up when he’s done.

the sexual tension gets to the both of you because before you know it he’s on top of you kissing you like there’s no tomorrow. his lips bring you in deeply.

you kiss back hard as he sits on the couch, pulling you up so you straddle his lap. his arms wrap around you; pulling you in as close as he can. “god y/n..” he says between kisses. “let me have your pretty pussy right now.”

you whimper in response as he kisses you hard, his big hands cup your ass as his thumb plays with the waist of your shorts. grinding against him to create friction on your cunt and pants, he chuckles at the feelings; pulling from your lips. “do you want me that bad y/n?”

“yes.”

“good.” rafe says and slides his hand in your shorts. feeling how wet you are he smiles, “so wet..”

you nod slowly as his fingers slides in you.

throwing your head back, he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. “such a pretty slut.” he continues moving his two middle fingers in you at a slow pace.

you moan loudly but with the party still happening no one can hear you over the music and talking. “don’t stop rafe please”

“so fuckin’ greedy.”

his fingers begin speeding up as his thumb finds your clit, moving in slow pleasurable circles. moaning louder, you drag your hand down towards his khaki waist line.

he continues at a rhythmic pace, not even slowing when your hand begins stroking him. rafes hand leaves your waist and wraps around your throat, squeezing softly.

you whimper lightly, the only thing holding the both of you in this position is your other hand on his shoulder.

the pleasure grows in your stomach, your orgasm threatening to released. “rafe..” you begin stroking him faster, “i’m gonna come.”

“take me out baby.” he mumbles before moving his fingers away. the feelings of emptiness causes you to whine as your manicured fingers begin to undo his short buttons.

once he’s fully out, you admire his length. all 8 1/2 inches.

“look at me baby,” he whispers. without skipping a beat, you stare up at him through your lashes. “i’m gonna fuck your pretty pussy-“ he pulls your shorts over to reveal your cunt and lines himself up at you’re entrance, “ so good.”

without breaking eye contact, he enters you slowly and immediately fills you.

“fuck rafe” you moan as his speed up his movements, “you feel so good.”

“i know.” he says and grabs your waist to keep you steady. “put your hand on the arm of the couch”

you do as you’re told and immediately are thankful because rafe slams into you so hard the whole couch shifts.

“you like when i fuck your sweet little pussy like i own it?” he ask as he continues to pound into you, the couch moving with each thrust.

you responded with moans and a nod. “answer me y/n. do you like it? use your words baby.”

“yes daddy. i love it.”

“mm that sounds so good coming out of your mouth.” rafe says and he leans down, capturing your mouth into a kiss.

you kiss him back, hungrily and eager to taste him. between kisses you moan, “i’m gonna cum rafe”

he continues thrusting into harder and harder until you both hear, “y/n?” being yelled from the kitchen. your eyes go wide as you look a rafe, who looks unphased.

“y/n!” this time you recognize the voice as topper and try to push rafe off but he doesn’t budge. “where are you?” topper says as he opens doors around the house.

“rafe we have to stop, he’s gonna find us.”

this causes him to stop, only for a few seconds before he says “well we better give him a show” and he begins fucking you senselessly again, “your pussy is mine y/n. all fucking mine”

“y/n!” this time the yell is right outside the door. you quickly cover your mouth but rafe brings your hand above your head, pinning them both to the arm of the couch.

“be loud baby.” rafe groans, his freehand going to your clit and rubbing pleasurable circles.

the feeling of his fucking you and rubbing your clit cause you to scream out and come just as topper opens the door.

from behind rafe, you see toppers eyes widen and he quickly shuts the door back. “what the fuck?”

“god you’re so tight.” rafe groans as his thrust falter and his dick twitches slightly. before you know it, you’re being filled by his cum.

rafe moans through his orgasm which gets you off again but you push those feelings aside. rafe pulls out of you and tiredly says, “i’ll be right back.”

he stands and pulls his clothes back on, before quickly leaving the room.

the last thing you hear is “top, i told you to learn how to fucking knock!”

327 notes · View notes

rebelfell · 6 months ago

Text

Evidently never gonna be done with thoughts of these two... 18+, MDNI 4.8k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: unprotected piv, finishing inside

cont'd from here, index here

The ride back to the house is silent.

No music playing. No words being said. Just the rumble of his van’s engine and the spin of its tires making the floor vibrate underneath your feet. Eddie’s hands keep tensing, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel never loosening as he navigates the deserted, winding backroads.

The trip that seemed to take only minutes on the way now stretches on interminably. Like when you wake up from a dream and the elasticized time snaps abruptly back in place and you realize your alarm has been going off for over an hour and now you’re definitely late for work.

You swallow thickly as you stare out the window at the blur of trees whipping past, your fingers twisting in your lap as you pick at the skin around your thumbnail. You rack your brain for some words, any words, that might be helpful. That might somehow fix this mess you’ve made.

But there isn’t a lot left to say after the lake.

Eddie, don’t, you can’t say stuff like that.

Why not? It’s the truth, it’s how I feel, I—

Because this can’t go anywhere! I’m leaving, I’m going back to—

Then I’ll leave too! I’ll go with you, I’ll go wherever you go, I just want to be with you.

Stop it, you don’t know what you’re saying.

He tries to tell you he does mean it. He means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his whole life. He doesn’t care about Hawkins or his stupid community college classes or his handful of odd jobs he could do literally anywhere. He’ll pick up and move. He’ll work. He’ll take care of you.

He’ll do anything so long as this doesn’t end.

What about Steve?

You stare at him plainly, certain you’ve delivered a death blow. And his face does flicker, if only for a moment, as the guilt that’s been festering in his gut for months finally shows through. And even as he shakes his head as determinately as he can, the waver in his voice is unmistakable.

I’ll…I’ll explain it to him.

Explain what? That we fucked on every available surface in his house?

Eddie shrank at your harsh words, not ready for the anger that flashed in your eyes, nor the vitriol that rose in your voice when you so crassly described the best summer of his life.

No! Well…yeah, but—I don’t know, I’ll figure it out!

Okay, and then what? We date? You practically spat the word out. Show up for Christmas dinner at your best friend’s house? Sit across the table from him as his aunt’s…as my…

You can’t even say the word “boyfriend”—it feels so juvenile, so high-school.

The argument drags on until the deep, brilliant midnight blue sky begins to tinge gray with the arrival of a cold and sickly dawn. Eddie probably would have kept going until the sun rose, until it hung in the middle of the sky, until it had set and come back up all over again. But you told him as calmly as you could that you had to go back.

It was time.

His van practically crawls to a stop in the driveway, the screech of his brakes mixing with the soft tweets of birds just beginning to stir. He shifts it into park and reaches up to grab the keys and cut the ignition, but you lay your hand on top of his to stop him.

“I don’t think you should stay,” you tell him, forcing back the wobble in your voice.

And the way he looks at you when you say it makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed. His face crumples, his brow pinching together, his mouth contorted in an ugly shape more snarl than frown.

“Don’t do this…” he says, gritting out the words through a clenched jaw. “Please.”

And it’s not the sort of begging you’re used to hearing out of him. It’s not an eager plea for you to kiss him or touch him, nor a cheeky request to fuck you somewhere you could get caught. This is real begging. It’s him clawing at you from behind a chain link fence, a lost puppy who wants only for you to take him home from the pound.

Not asking for anything but you.

“Eddie, we can’t—”

He reaches out for you, his hands coming up to cup the sides of your face, his touch somehow soft and tender despite the rigid tension you can see in his arms, in his back, in his shoulders.

“We can do anything we want,” he whispers.

His breath is warm on your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He really believes it. And god do you want to believe it too. But…

“I’m sorry.”

Tears brim along your lashline as you wedge your fingers under his to wrench them from your face, rushing to get out of the van before he can stop you. Your footsteps thud on the concrete as you retreat inside the house and lean on the door in the foyer until you hear him backing down the driveway and the glow of his headlights has disappeared completely from view.

You drift back upstairs, heading for your sister’s room that has lain untouched since they left. Past all the places you and he defiled this summer. Past your bed with its rumpled sheets that still smell of Camels and cologne. Past the guest room where Eddie barely slept, lying awake at night thinking of you instead. Past the answering machine and its flashing red light that signals a new message has been left, one you’ll listen to in the morning with bleary bloodshot eyes.

It’s your sister letting you know they’ve changed their flight. They’ll be home tomorrow.

Which is now today.

Having John and Viv back in the house is an adjustment.

Upon playing their message, you and Steve did a sweep of every room trying to get it back up to his mother’s impeccable standards you’d let slide since your arrival…in more ways than one.

You don’t see much of Steve’s father, which feels normal because you never do. Even after all the deals he closed this summer, he somehow only has to work more now that he’s home. Most mornings, he’s up and headed to the office before the rest of the world has hit the first snooze on their alarms. And some nights he stays until long after the rest of the house has gone to bed.

It gives you and your sister lots of time to talk. Well, it gives her time to talk. And the one thing she simply can’t seem to stop talking about is how incredible the yard looks.

She keeps looking out the windows and sighing wistfully as she stares at the haven Eddie has created. She starts to take her morning coffee, her afternoon tea, her evening glass of port out on the patio just to marvel at the perennials just beginning to flower. She’s beyond thrilled.

And you’re…fine. At least you can pretend like you are. Most days.

It’s easy to slip back into the state of numbness that was your home base after everything with your ex. But with him, you had just felt mad. There was no guilt or remorse eating away at your insides. No bottomless pit of doubt in your stomach, no needling thoughts of regret gnawing at you constantly. No part of you left wondering if you’d made a terrible mistake.

Or rather, another one.

What’s really not helping is Viv going out of her way to berate you about how you’re going about this all wrong. She’s quick to scold you for moping around the house, asking if this is what you’ve done all summer. She’s adamant you should be getting back out there—back on the bike or the horse or whatever other tired ass cliche you preferred.

It’s during one of these rants that the phone rings and mercifully cuts her off. Steve is calling. He left his lunch at home and he’s wondering if someone can bring it to him. Vivian grins.

“Your aunt would love to. She was just saying she needed to get out of the house.”

And she’s not wrong, even if it’s her and not the house you need a break from.

But as you make the turn into Family Video’s lot, your stomach drops at the sight of the brown and white van parked out front. Eddie’s long frame leans on the hood, unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, his hands resting on the hips of a girl he’s got pressed up against him, his fingers toying with the frilled hem of a baby pink top that flashes the bare skin of her lower back.

Your neck is as stiff as death as you walk past, keeping your eyes glued to the door in front of you, trying to ignore the breathy laugh that floats on the air and punctures your brain. You yank on the handle a little too hard, the silver bell overhead even louder in your already ringing ears.

Steve lets out a loud groan of relief when he sees you, or rather when he sees his lunch, and he tears into it right there on the sales floor. He’s the only one on today and the store is deserted— everyone likely at the pool or out enjoying the last few weeks of freedom and warm weather.

Or going for a gold medal in tonsil hockey.

You fold your arms across your chest and lean on the counter, sneaking a glance over your shoulder you know you’ll regret. Most of the display going on outside is obscured by the decals and posters on the windows, but you can still see plenty.

Eddie’s head dips to whisper something in that girl’s ear and you feel about as tall as the crumbs scattering from Steve’s sandwich.

As he chews, your nephew’s gaze follows yours out the window. His brows raise as Eddie grins and he starts to run his hands down the curve of her spine, slipping them snugly into the back pockets of her jeans. Unable to see the grimace on your face, Steve just nods approvingly.

“About time,” he sighs as he rips off another bite. “He’s been like…catatonic lately.”

The sourness in your stomach only curdles further until you mutter out a goodbye to Steve and turn to make your escape. But the very moment that you do, that girl is taking Eddie by the hand and pulling him along behind her into the store. You and she nearly collide at the door, close enough you can smell the sickly sweet peach lip gloss she’s wearing.

“Oh! Sorry, ma’am,” she says, blithely smiling as she floats over to the new releases.

Behind her, Eddie stands staunchly in the doorway. He takes up the entire exit, his dark clothes seemingly absorbing all the light in the room as you lift your chin to look him in the eye.

You expect to find contempt. Something callous and unfeeling. More than merely smug, you’re sure he will be dripping with arrogance and condescension. Because he’s got every right to be, doesn’t he? You really think I cared about you? Don’t you see how fast I can replace you?

But when you do look at him, there is only pain etched into his features. He holds your gaze for no more than a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. You think that all of civilization could be crumbling into ruin around you and you would never know because you can’t stand to tear your eyes away from his. And you don’t, until he drops his head and turns sideways to let you pass.

His cologne stings in your nostrils as you do, and your arm brushes the edge of his denim vest. And you don’t make it but a block away before you have to pull off onto a side street and cry.

For the next two weeks, the sky is permanently gray.

Dark and mottled clouds roll in sometime that evening and suddenly even the smallest sliver of sunshine becomes as precious as real gold. Their coverage is dense and the air becomes thick and muggy with humidity that only gets more oppressive, yet never gets any closer to breaking.

Every day, the house seems to get smaller. It’s like you’re a rat in a maze and the scientists who are studying you keep removing portions of it until you’ve been boxed in with no escape. But the idea of going out, the thought of running into Eddie again, is too much for you to bear the risk.

The only thing that brings you any sort of solace is that the school year will start soon and you’ll have work to distract you again. Truthfully, the only reason you have yet to extract yourself from Hawkins is because your new housing—a little craftsman you’re going to rent from the head of your department at the university—won’t be ready for you to move in until the end of August.

But the looming threat of your departure somehow only encourages Vivian.

You should have known something was up the moment she said she wanted to have a “family dinner” to celebrate your last night. You should have known when you came into your room and found a bag from her favorite department store sitting on your bed containing a sundress far too floral for your taste. It might as well have had a post-it on it that said “Wear Me” like your mother used to put on your school clothes when she laid them out for you in the morning.

If you were smart, you might have thrown it out the window. Or maybe even climbed through it yourself and scaled down the trellis to make a run for it. Instead, you put it on. And your feet are like lead on the steps as you come down to find your sister bustling around the dining room.

Your brow furrows as you count four place settings. “I thought Steve had a date,” you say.

“He does,” she hums, shooting you a sidelong glance. “And so do you.”

“Viv, no. Please don’t do this—”

“I haven’t done anything!”

She throws her hands up and smiles, but all the faux innocence in the world can’t disguise that glint of mischief in her eyes. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by the doorbell.

“That must be him,” she titters, flapping a napkin behind you to shoo you into the foyer. “Go on, now, don’t keep him waiting!”

Eddie parks his van down the street from Steve’s house, under the cover of some tree branches that hang low over the road. He smokes two cigarettes down to the filters and debates on a third as he tries to summon the courage to get out of the car. Every part of his body seems to be at odds with him, unwilling to settle until he finally kicks open the door and gets out.

His feet carry him forward in long, determined strides but they falter when he sees a car he isn’t expecting sitting in the driveway. It’s a cruiser. One Eddie found himself pulled over by on more than a few occasions, being scrutinized by the giant hulking man now ringing the doorbell.

Hopper.

He’s not in uniform. In fact, he’s more dressed up than Eddie has ever seen him, all trussed up in a sport coat over a button down that he’s actually buttoned. Shit, is his shirttail tucked in?

“Munson?” he says in surprise. “What brings you here?”

But before Eddie can answer, the door is opening and it's you on the other side. Eyes widening when they land on him and then blinking furiously when you realize Hopper is there as well.

“Um…hi.”

It’s hard to say who looks more uncomfortable as you step aside so Hopper can come in and you exchange some stilted pleasantries. You remember him from high-school and you aren’t all that surprised the town’s terminal bachelor is the one your sister has decided to foist upon you.

What is surprising is that Eddie is here. And his eyes are searing into you, while you have yet to fully acknowledge him. In all honesty, you're not entirely convinced he isn’t a hallucination. Only when Viv appears and glides into the chaos like a parade float do you actually believe it.

“I thought that was you, Chief. So glad you could make it—Oh, Eddie!”

Her eyes fall on the boy still hovering in the doorway, her hand coming up to her chest.

“I’m so sorry, dear, but Steve’s already left for his date. Wait right here, though, I have some money for you for all that work you did.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

Eddie takes a hurried step forward, his white sneakers finally breaching the threshold. Vivian is already gone, though, rushing up the stairs. Leaving you alone. With both of them.

“Hey…Hop. John’s in the den, if you want a drink,” you tell him, pointing the way.

With a terse nod and a gruff sound you presume is him answering in the affirmative, Hopper heads down the hall and leaves you and Eddie to your uncomfortable hovering. He leans on the narrow table in the entryway, staring at his own hand as he traces the edge of the wood with his finger, the rest of his hand closed in a fist. He won’t look at you now. Won’t lift his chin an inch.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper.

Eddie just shrugs, staring now at his sneakers he’s scuffing against the oriental rug under his feet. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. His chest rises with the breath he draws, but he swallows his non-response when he hears Vivian at the top of the stairs.

“Here you go, dear,” she says, handing over the envelope full of cash with his name written on it that’s been sitting on her bureau for weeks now.

His head shakes. “You really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense! You did such beautiful work out there, it was so wonderful to come home to. You ought to think about going into landscaping.”

Vivian just about forces the envelope into his hands and he mutters out a thank you, tapping his fingers on it and making furtive glances towards the door as she whirls around to you.

“You two met, right?” she asks. “He must have been here all the time working.”

“Y-yeah, yes, we—”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, stuffing the money into his back pocket and reaching for the doorknob in one motion. Still not looking you in the eye. “I’ll, um…I’m sorry to disturb you…”

He goes to leave, one foot already out the door when she suddenly stops and looks back over his shoulder. You feel your breath catch, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours.

“Have a good night,” he says quietly. And then he’s gone.

The door doesn’t slam. He doesn’t even shut it particularly hard. Still, you can’t help but flinch as it closes soundly behind him. There’s something so final about it, but it doesn’t feel like enough after everything that’s happened—it doesn’t feel right for it to end with something so hollow.

Vivian just smiles and loops her arm with yours.

“Ready to go find the boys?”

You walk Hopper to the door after dinner, more or less coerced into it by your sister.

There’s a slight scuffle as you try and figure out how to say goodnight to one another. He winds up reaching out a hand as big as a bear’s paw and clumsily pats your shoulder, almost like he is one, when he seemingly can’t decide between hugging you or shaking your hand.

Chuckling through it the best you can, you keep the same fake smile you’ve worn all night firmly plastered in place until the door closes with him on the other side. And you stand there for a minute, not too keen on going back in the kitchen for your impending cross-examination.

But then your eyes land on the vase sitting on the table in the entryway. More specifically, on the folded piece of paper tucked behind it with only a ripped edge peeking out.

You reach for it, flashing back to a ringed finger tracing the edge of that table, fist clenched around something, and your hands shake as you unfold it to read Eddie’s note scrawled inside.

I’m parked down the street.

It’s just starting to rain as you hurry down the driveway, skulking through shadows as you walk along the quiet street. In the distance, you can hear the rumble of the approaching storm as fat raindrops hit the top of your head and slide down your scalp through the forest of your roots.

A pitch black sky overhead matches the road under your feet, scantly lit by a lone streetlight. The wind picks up as you look around for Eddie’s van and just when you’re starting to think he must have left already, you spot him on the side of the road under the cover of some trees.

At first all you can see is the glowing orange dot at the end of his cigarette, but his face steadily comes into view as you approach the driver’s side door. A blatant attempt to avoid what you know will happen if you climb in the passenger seat.

The rain starts to fall a little harder as he rolls his window down. It soaks the ground at your feet, clouds of steam rising from the pavement. The air is thick and heavy, like standing in a bowl of soup. It has your shoulders sagging with the weight and your lungs struggling to draw breath.

At least that’s what you let yourself believe.

“How was your date?” Eddie asks with a bitter laugh that does little to disguise his disgust. You shake your head, pushing back a wet piece of hair clinging to your cheek.

“It wasn’t a…It was just dinner.”

The hurt in your voice makes his eyes round and soften, cheeks hollowing as he takes a long drag. Seemingly breathing in as deeply as he can to steady his own frayed nerves.

“I was afraid you might have left already,” he says.

“No,” you tell him, eyes falling to your feet. “Not ‘til tomorrow.”

He nods.

“I, uh—I know I shouldn’t just show up like this. But I wanted to tell you…” His jaw is clenched, bottom lip shaking almost imperceptibly, corners of his mouth turning downwards as he stubs out his smoke. “I need you to know that I don’t regret it. Any of it.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours on the last words, brown eyes like twin black holes that hold all the mysteries of the universe. There’s a terrifying vastness to them, a depth you’ve only barely scratched the surface of. Your lips press together and you pinch your eyes shut as your hand creeps up to rest on the door, fingers curling around it as raindrops splash on the interior.

The thunder only gets louder as the storm nears, the rain now falling in a rapid patter. Here it is, you tell yourself. This is what you knew was coming. This is where you knew you’d end up.

“I don’t regret it either,” you say, raising your voice over the sound of the rain, forcing down the tremble in it. “And I…I’ll never forget it.”

You can only hold his gaze for a second before you have to look away. And as you do, you give the door a tight squeeze, wishing it was his hand instead.

“Bye, Eddie.”

Your feet carry you away like you’re on autopilot.

You’re barely conscious of the steps you take or the direction you head in as the rain ramps up to a downpour and fully soaks through your clothes. Your head is spinning and foggy, unable to register much of anything until one sound breaks through—the creak of the van door swinging open and slamming shut, followed by the splashing of water under sneakers.

The solid weight of his hand on your shoulder makes you start as he turns you towards him, the rain falling harder and the wind blowing faster all around. The trees overhead whip back and forth in a frenzy, their branches dipping low and their leaves swirling wildly in the air.

“Eddie, someone could see—”

He wraps his hands around your wrists to wrench you closer, pulling you into his body, both of your faces splattered with rain, barely able to see anything beyond each other.

“Let them,” he breathes out before his lips slam into yours.

The sound of the storm is only magnified inside of Eddie’s van, every drop of rain on the metal roof practically deafening as you climb through the rear and your bodies slide against the floor. The carpet inside is rough and scratchy, the fibers imbedded with decades worth of dirt and crumbs and tobacco and weed particles, but you can’t find the will within you to care.

All you can think about, all you can focus on, is him.

His kiss is harsh and punishing, lips mashing rough against yours, teeth clacking as he devours you. Aggressive and bruising in a way that, deep down, you know you deserve.

Your wet clothes cleave to your bodies as you struggle to drag them off, steadfast in their refusal despite your feverish attempts. Eddie’s jeans and boxers only make it to the middle of his thighs before he’s pushing inside of you and a strangled moan releases from his throat.

The stretch makes you writhe, the stinging pain quickly becoming an afterthought as your need for him overrides everything else. You fist his wet shirt in your hands, rivulets of water trickling down your forearms as you clutch it tight to pull his body as close to yours as it can get.

Adrenaline races in your veins as he begins to thrust and you realize it’s the first time he’s taken you bare, the velvet of his skin dragging against your walls with nothing to separate you.

He fucks you fast and hard, your legs kicking up to wrap around his waist, your ass burning from the friction, your muscles tightening and tensing with every move. His whole body is quaking as he drives himself inside, the van rocking, teetering like it’s about to tip over the edge of a cliff.

He fucks you like it’s the last time he’ll get to, because he’s pretty sure it will be.

“Let me come in you,” he groans in your ear, more command than request. “Want to fill you up, want you to feel every…fucking…drop…”

The words are grunted out in time with his thrusts, his hips pushing deeper with every heaving breath, his cock twitching inside you as your walls pulse and tighten around him.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god!”

Your fingers weave into his wet curls, twisting them in your grasp at the root, tugging his head up and holding him there so you can stare into his eyes, your own vision strained in the dark.

Lightning flashes through the windshield, followed instantly by a clap of thunder. So close it could have struck right outside. For an instant, the van is illuminated and you see his face fully—eyes wide and wild, hair half-dried in damp coils, tattoos stark against pale skin that glows white.

It only lasts a second, but it shows you everything you need to see.

“Come, Eddie,” you gasp as the lightning dissipates and the whole van rattles from the force. “Want you to come for me, come in me—”

And he does. As fast and hard as the lightning strike, Eddie’s cock bursts with rope after rope of his release spurting inside of you, your center tingling as the feeling of it spreads throughout your body. The noise he makes in your ear is ungodly. It pours out from deep in his throat, guttural and resonant as the echoing claps of thunder. He drops all of his weight onto you, shaking from the force of his orgasm as you’re flattened between him and the floor.

“It’s okay,” you coo softly, your fingers loosening your grip on his hair to stroke it instead, nails dragging soft and slow against his scalp.

He shivers at your gentle and soothing touch, inhaling shaky breaths of you with his face pressed to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Safe and dark and warm.

“I love you,” he says, his voice cracking in a dry sob as his tears slide off his cheeks to mix with the rainwater and sweat on your skin. Your throat clenches as you swallow, still trying to force down the words that have sat heavy in the center of your chest for weeks now, fighting to be said.

Finally, finally, finally, they make it out.

“I love you too.”

prev│next

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #TSITA

436 notes · View notes

redflagshipwriter · 10 months ago

Text

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 2

It was a very weird ride. Danny felt like he was an authority on uncomfortable and strange conversations, given his bizarre family and all the experiences he'd had: but it was exquisitely uncomfortable sitting next to his bride sacrifice and making conversation.

The guy didn't offer his name. He was- honestly, he was built. Danny tried not to get caught visually measuring how absurdly broad the guy's shoulders were. He was weirdly offended that the cultists had sent him someone who was more ripped than he was.

"What's that?" The guy prompted. Jason. This guy's name was Jason. It was a little hard to keep in mind given he didn't really look like a Jason. He looked like… The Red Biker 👻😱🩸 or some shit.

Danny mentally rewound his own babbling and brightened when he realized that there was at least some interest in NASA's newest telescope. He infodumped on rote. It genuinely was an interesting topic! But he'd told 3 people about it already so it didn't take all of his attention.

At one point, Jason pinched his middle finger and used the grip to pull off his glove. Danny swallowed. He tried not to stare at the first glimpse of skin. It was not super light or super dark– a little tanner than Danny, maybe. Not that that said much when he was living like a cave creature in a dorm room, trying to get the grades to be an astronaut.

'He's human,' Danny thought. Of course he was, he'd been sent from earth, but-

He just felt like a ghost.

The confusion put his hackles up. It was weird to perceive this guy as a possible threat. But he wasn't! He was just some hot dummy who got caught by friggin Jeremy Waters. Jeremy. Come on. It didn't get much sadder than that.

But overall? He could see why the Infinite Realms had gotten mixed up enough to accept this guy. Red was definitely weird enough to be a ghost, dressed up for the combination war front/biker bar/club. He hadn't made a move to take off his ugly motorcycle helmet the whole time they'd been talking. It was kind of creepy, to be honest.

The most disturbing part was that he smelled, like, really good. He smelled like sexy death and Danny kinda wanted to roll around in it like the world's most educated cat.

It was with some relief that Danny bounded away from his semi husband, up the stairs to Clockwork. "You know who it is and why I'm here!" He hollered, hands making a megaphone shape around his mouth. "Help me! I'm too young to be a child bride."

"Technically," Clockwork said, floating pleasantly into view, "you are too old to be a child bride. As you are not a child, Danny."

He waved that off. "I'm a kid on the inside," he dismissed. "And 19 is basically a high schooler."

"As you say." Clockwork drifted away. Danny followed. "How is your university coursework?"

"It's fine." Danny shrugged. "The Gen Eds are giving me war flashbacks to Mr. Lancer, though."

"You liked him," Clockwork said.

Danny bristled. "I did not!"

He kinda had. Mr. Lancer could have been a lot worse.

That was beside the point. Danny caught up to his ghost mentor. "I can't be distracted from this," he said, aiming for stern. "There's some human out there who wants to go home. I also want him to go home. How do we make that happen ?"

"Why Danny, have you forgotten about portals?"

Danny scowled. "You know what I mean," he groused. "I want to send him home single. Unattached. Not married to me at all."

Clockwork finally stopped moving and looked directly at him. His large eyes held only a kind of curiosity. "I suppose that you could banish him. That would have the effect of ending your relationship."

Danny hesitated. He'd learned that accepting suggestions on their face could go very badly. "That seems kinda harsh," he said. "Would there be any repercussions of that?"

Clockwork hummed from the back of his throat. "Yes, it would prevent young Jason from becoming a ghost when he passes again. Excuse me, I want that shelf behind you."

Danny moved out of the way on reflex before he processed those words. "That sounds bad."

The older ghost seemed to shrug. "The Ghost king can banish ghosts, and your paramour is ghostly enough to qualify. It would solve your current dilemma."

He deliberately chose not to respond to the word 'paramour.'

"I'm actually looking for a solution that doesn't interfere with the state of his soul and afterlife," Danny said dryly. Then he blinked. "You're really gonna call him Jason?"

Clockwork reached up and withdrew a metal object from the shelf. It clicked in his hand. "Indeed."

Danny waited for another divorce suggestion. When Clockwork didn't give one, he groaned. "How do I find another solution?" He asked, tired. This was another test, wasn't it? It was a chance for him to problem solve on his own.

That netted him a beaming smile. "You should take him to the royal library."

"And look for information about ghost divorces?" Danny asked. Clockwork gave him an enigmatic smile.

He chose to believe that was a yes. Danny patted his mentor's shoulder. "Thanks!" He shouted, already turning on his heel. "I'll do that. Have a good day!"

"Goodbye, Danny."

Jason hadn't moved at all, sitting weirdly tense and tall in the passenger seat. Danny gave him a nervous smile as he jumped in.

"Did you find out anything?" Jason asked. His voice was even enough to obscure whatever it was he thought, and the helmet made the words come out kinda flat and mechanical.

Danny winced. "Yes and no," he said, trying to find cheerful. "The first solution seems kinda bad, to be honest, so let's go to the library and look for another one!"

"...Ghosts have public libraries?" Jason said.

"No," Danny said. And then he frowned. "Maybe? I don't know. I haven't seen one but I haven't been here long. We're going to Pariah's creepy old castle to look at his library." He started up the Specter Speeder and took off. "It's big. And he was a real creep, so he probably had, uh." He cleared his throat. "Paramours." His face was getting hot and red. Maybe it wasn't obvious. He tried to look unaffected. "Probably why that ritual was out there," he babbled. Wow, the minutes separating their destinations felt very long when he was digging a verbal hole. "He probably had a lot of sacrifices he accepted, maybe that's where the skeleton army came from actually."

"Skeleton army?" Jason managed to sound incredulous through the world's ugliest motorcycle helmet. "How do ghosts and skeletons both exist in proximity?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, if you don't need the physical body to exist, why would anyone retain their corpse?"

Danny laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's weird," he agreed.

'Don't ask me afterlife questions,' he mentally begged. 'I just work here. I don't know the answers.'

"Metaphysically-"

"Do you like sports?" Danny interrupted in a high voice.

Jason paused. "No. Do you?"

"...Not really," Danny admitted, thinking of getting ganged up on in dodgeball and knocked down in basketball.

They existed in what felt like a confused silence for a few minutes. Danny parked the Speeder outside of the castle and I clicked his seatbelt with a rush of relief. "We're here," he said. He threw open the top.

Jason didn't move from where he was flat against the backrest, only lifting his head. "... Should I come too?"

Danny blinked down at him and waved a hand in invitation. "Yeah, let's go. This is kinda my place now so I can invite you in."

Jason moved forward abruptly, like he'd just gotten unstuck from the seat. Something about it looked wrong to his hindbrain. But Danny dismissed it and started off at a jog. It wasn't his business if Jason was a weird little guy. (Weird big guy? It didn't sound the same, but Jason wasn't petite.)

Jason paused on the battlements. Danny looked back and tried to see it from his perspective. The architecture was jagged, pitch black, and without any of the friendly colorful touches a castle should have. "It's kind of creepy," he said apologetically. "Pariah has just the worst vibe. Rancid energy."

"...Is it smart to say that?" Jason wondered. He started walking again.

Danny shrugged. "What's he gonna do to me?" He asked rhetorically. "Get his butt kicked again?"

#red hot ghouls #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

953 notes · View notes

dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

Note

https://twitter.com/bestpornclipsx/status/1660915013479964674?s=46

what would have had to happen for y/n to be in this situation with ony

hmmmm idk

sikeeee!! i always know😛 link

“got some nerve…coming up in there like you ain’t got no sense” his voice deeply touched your ears as he spoke. your ass was hot from the many times he’s struck it. pussy being pounded into oblivion from the back. it was almost certain you were going to be sore and bedridden in the morning. all because you let jealousy cloud your judgment.

“ma i just told you, been telling you the whole ride home, i don’t know that girl” you rolled your eyes at him, not caring about the irritated look your boyfriend was giving you. “you mean to tell me this bitch knows your name, mom’s name, and has your number in her contacts, and you never fucked wit her? boy get the fuck outta here wit that!” you pointed your long acrylic nail in his face as you spoke. getting up close and personal to show him that you weren’t playing.

ony took a deep breath before replying. crossing his big arms across his chest to keep himself from just snatching you up right there. “first of all…watch your mouth. second, i need you to put that big girl brain to good use and think.” you rolled your eyes as he continued to to break down your assumptions. “no cocky shit, but i’m probably the most known nigga on this campus and you know that. so of course people gon know my name. as for my number, i can’t stop girls from asking around for it. she prolly got it from someone on the team and i’ll check em for that. and you can check my phone to clarify ‘cause ain’t no female in there but my momma and you.”

your face began to soften as his excuses were starting to make sense, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as he continued. “as far as knowing momma’s name, you gotta be smarter than that princess. after every game what i say to the camera?” your eyes revert to the floor, guilt clouding your mind as you start to feel bad for how you were acting. ony softly cooed at you, inked fingers tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. “tell me ma” you sighed deeply, taking a long pause before answering his question. “y’say ‘first i wanna give a shout-out to my very first supporters, my parents Abena and Todd Jackson.’ m’sorr-”

“sh sh sh. what else baby?” your eyes instantly began to water as you recited the second part of his speech. “a-and y’said ‘a-also wanna give a big shoutout t-to my beautiful g-girlfriend y/n.’ m’sorry papa i was just so mad and i–” he cut you off again, this time by snatching you up by your throat and bringing your face closer to his. “this is why we communicate ain’t it? to prevent shit like this, but you ain’t do that did you? nahh….you came into the team house yelling and screaming, embarrassing the both of us ‘cause you let your emotions get the best f’you. so now…. ima let mine get the best of me. go in the room and strip.”

it was a matter of minutes before ony had you stripped and screaming in the middle of the bed. dick punishing your insides so good , but you held that need for release with a death grip. “daddyyyy i said m’sorry alreadyyy. p-please let me cumm” you whined, drool dripping from your lips as ony replied with a hard slap on your ass. “no. you ain’t learn yet” he grumbled, angling his hips downward so he can be felt in your stomach. your mouth opened in a silent scream, the feeling too much for you as you tried to inch up the bed.

ony watched you closely, letting you move up just enough so you can take a sigh of relief before yanking you back onto him. “don’t run from me mama. you gettin what you deserve” you let out a loud whine as you felt him begin to hit you deeper than he did before, heavy hand coming down on your ass repeatedly. your ass was definitely going to be sore in the morning. “you love me?” ony asked, stroking you just right to the point where holding your orgasm was almost unbearable. “y-you know i love you daddy”

the next thing you knew, your back was too his chest and ony has his hand tightly around your neck. the brutal pace of his hips slowing to deep strokes. his dick repeatedly hitting the sweetest spots inside of you. there was no way you could hold it in anymore, a quiet whine escaping your lips as your release slowly trickled down your thighs. ony wasn’t far behind, his ropes of cum shot deep into you as he slowed his hips to a stop.

“if you love me then communicate wit me cause now you gon be here all night. turn over.”

#aot x black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot smut #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon x black reader #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon smut #𝑡𝑤𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠 :)

1K notes · View notes

shybluebirdninja · 1 month ago

Text

FADED DAYS: PART 2

Summary: In a bleak world where Logan has lost his purpose, an unexpected connection with his nurse brings a spark of humanity back into his fading life as an Uber driver.

Pairing : Uber-Driver!Logan Howlett x Nurse!Fem-reader

Genre : Heavy Angst

You swipe the screen to clock out from your shift, feeling the heavy pull of exhaustion in your bones. It was one of those nights—sick patients, endless charts, and a doctor who looked at you like you’d just ruined his life every time you handed him a pen. You just want to go home, crawl under the covers, and sleep for a decade.

But the second you tap the Uber app, you see it.

Your driver: Logan. Estimated arrival: 4 minutes.

“Oh, hell no.”

You vaguely remember the grumpy old guy from last time, the one who looked like he was one minor inconvenience away from driving the car straight off a cliff. You sigh, rubbing your temples. The last thing you need is another ride full of awkward silences and death glares.

His car pulls up, same as before, creaking to a stop like it’s gasping for its last breath. You get in and immediately regret it. It smells faintly of...is that whiskey? And maybe motor oil? You’re not even sure anymore.

“Hey,” you say as you settle in. “Fancy seeing you again.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” he grunts, his voice sounding like it’s been dragged over sandpaper. No eye contact, just the same stoic stare out the windshield. The engine groans, and you wonder if the car’s going to make it through the ride—or if the driver will, for that matter.

The silence stretches out like an awkward third wheel in the backseat. You figure you might as well try to lighten the mood.

“So, Uber driver, huh? Is this, like, your dream job?” You flash a grin, hoping for at least a chuckle.

“Pays the bills,” he mutters. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Ouch. Guess humor isn’t his thing. Still, you push on.

“I dunno, man. You don’t really scream 'people person' to me. No offense, but I thought Uber drivers were supposed to be...uh, friendlier.”

He snorts. “I ain't here to be your friend.”

“Clearly,” you mumble under your breath. “Just trying to make conversation.”

Another snort, this one a little more amused, but still tinged with that world-weary, grumpy-old-man vibe. You’re not sure whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He’s like the human version of a stray dog—ragged, angry, but you know deep down he’s just tired of being kicked around.

The car lurches forward as he merges onto the freeway, and you notice the deep lines on his hands again. The knuckles, those strange scars. You’ve seen your fair share of battle wounds in the hospital, but his look different. Old. Like he’s lived through something worse than just a bad day at work.

“Rough shift?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is still gruff, but there’s something softer beneath it. Not exactly sympathy, but...close enough.

“Yeah,” you admit. “You could say that.”

He grunts again. “I’ve had worse.”

“Yeah?” You glance at him, eyebrow raised. “Like what?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but his grip on the wheel tightens. For a second, you think you’ve hit a nerve, but then he shrugs. “Nothing you’d believe.”

“Try me.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he’s going to brush you off. But then he glances at you, just for a split second. His eyes are tired, so tired. “You ever been shot six times in the chest?”

Your eyes widen. “Uh…no?”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

You blink, unsure if he’s serious. Then he coughs—this raspy, painful sound—and you can’t help but laugh. It’s ridiculous. The whole situation is ridiculous. This grumpy, near-dead Uber driver who claims he’s been shot six times and lived to tell the tale.

“You’re kidding, right?” you ask, half-expecting him to say it’s a joke.

“Nope,” he says, popping the p in the most deadpan way possible. “Still hurts when it rains.”

There’s a beat of silence before you both laugh, his cough mingling with the sound. It’s not exactly a light-hearted moment, but it’s…something.

But as you look at him, the laughter fades. You see the deep, hollow weariness in his eyes again. The kind that no joke can really erase. And something tugs at your chest—a weird mix of sympathy and sadness.

You shake your head, changing the subject. “So, Uber wasn’t your first gig, huh? What’d you do before?”

“Stuff,” he says, evasively.

“Stuff? Very specific.”

“Stuff that ain’t your concern.” His tone is final, but there’s no malice in it. Just the same wall of grumpiness he’s clearly used to hiding behind.

When he pulls up to your place, you linger in the car for a second, wondering if you should say something more. Something...human. But instead, you just glance over at him one last time.

“Take care of yourself, Logan.”

For the first time, his eyes flick up to meet yours, and you swear there’s a flicker of something behind that grizzled exterior.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “You too.”

You step out, closing the door softly behind you. The car lingers for a moment, like he’s thinking about something. Then, with a groan of the engine, he’s gone, disappearing into the night.

As you walk up to your apartment, you can’t help but smile. Who knew a grumpy old Uber driver could leave you feeling this weird mix of sadness and warmth?

You’ll probably see him again. Something tells you he’ll be around.

110 notes · View notes

potatothots · 11 months ago

Note

U do dark, yandere👀??? Can I request Grandmaster Bi-han conquering a village and taking virgin!reader as concubine😗 (I'm sick I know🙃😐)

I hope this lives up to expectations! Sorry it was so late. You're not sick, either! It's fantasy!! :D Let me know how I did.

Genre: Drama

Rating: Porn with plot - NO MINORS

Pairings: dark!Bi-Han x virgin!reader

Warnings: Loss of virginity, breeding kink, talk of death, concubines, non-con

Summary: Bi-Han takes what he wants. The Lin Kuei are always repaid.

Note - I'm not your guardian. You read what you want. I can't stop you. If you don't heed the warnings, too bad for you, not me.

I wrote it, didn’t like it, rewrote some of it, and finally found something I kind of like. Edited by me, however, potatos aren’t the best at editing their own work.

It was a sunny, beautiful day when it happened. There was a chill in the air and a threat of snow on the wind, but it wasn't out of the ordinary for this time of year. You were walking the market street. The smells drew you to various vendors selling dumplings and sweet rice balls. Along with the staples you'd need for the week for yourself and your aging parents, you decided to indulge in some of the sweets. Your dad had a sweet tooth like you; he wouldn't mind.

As the sun set low on the horizon you started your journey home. There suddenly was a thundering sound. Like horrid storms, but it was coming closer too quickly to be natural. You held your bags to your chest and turned to the noise. The sight made you stop in your tracks.

More than a dozen men on horseback were charging through the street. They wore gear and masks that signaled their affiliation with the Lin Kuei. You'd never seen them in person but had heard tales of their might and savagery when they wanted something.

The villagers ran this way and that way, trying to avoid the men on horseback along with the flying debris they left behind in their wake. They smashed stalls and trampled over those unlucky souls who couldn't get away fast enough. Some had bows and arrows and took down more innocent civilians.

It wasn't until a child ran to you, tears streaming down her cheeks, that you came out of your shock. You threw down your bags and grabbed her, pulling her to safety. Only, it wasn't enough. An arrow pierced her neck. It went so far through that it stabbed your chest. The sight had you screaming in terror. You let the dead child go to run yourself.

You found yourself in an alley. Pressing your back to the wall, you watched the riders ride past the opening, paying no mind to the dark alley.

You let out a trembling breath. Your whole body shook in fear. Moving away from the wall, you turned your back to the alley entrance. You had to get to safety. You had to get home. Your parents were in danger.

As you started to run, you smacked right into a wall - no, not a wall. A giant of a man in the Lin Kuei garb accented with blue. His mask was ornate and hid everything but his expressive brown eyes.

Those eyes trailed down your face to your chest. He reached out to touch the bloody spot. His fingers were ice cold as they moved your jacket away to inspect the wound through your shirt. You shivered, backing away from him. His other hand grabbed your upper arm to hold you in place.

"Are you hurt?" He asked in a deep, gravelly voice.

Your eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Yes! You're destroying my home! Of course, I'm hurt!"

He made a face behind his mask like he was smirking. You tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened.

"Let me go. I owe you nothing." You said, trying to pull away again.

"That's where you're wrong, y/n. You owe me everything. Your family and your leader can't pay what they owe us. Instead, they hid the things most precious to them. You, I've decided to spare. You're no son, but you can be very valuable to me in other ways."

"You're wrong about my family. Maybe our leader, but my family would never do anything to be indebted to the likes of a low-life clan like the Lin Kuei."

"You have no idea, do you? I've watched you these last few years. You indulge and never ask where the money comes from. You're either naive or choose to be ignorant. Your father has land, a title, a good job, and somehow has more money than others in his position."

You pause, mulling over his words. Yes, your family might be wealthier than most in town, but your father always said it was that he was good with money. Doubt clouded his words in your head now. Was it true? Why else would they come after you?

"What will happen to the leader's family? His children? Their children?" Your voice is tiny, sticking in your throat with fear.

"We will get rid of those who won't fall in line."

His words are so casually spoken that you have to look away. Tears pour down your cheeks at the implications of his words.

You sniffle, looking back at him. "I'm no fighter. What use would I be to you?"

"You're so innocent." He cups your cheek with the hand that had been inspecting your shirt. "You don't have to be a fighter to warm my bed."

A wave of panic shot through you at his statement. You cried out a sharp "No!" before you finally managed to yank yourself away from him. Only so far could you go before you felt his cold touch again. He held his hand over your nose and mouth. His other arm was tight against your throat. The more you struggled, the more your vision went hazy.

"Yes. Fight back. It'll make this easier for me."

He kept talking, but your brain was no longer listening as you fought to keep conscious.

—

You felt yourself come to. Women were chatting in whispered voices. A few glanced your way. An older woman with gray hair moved over to the bed you were lying on. She held a kindness in her face and movements as she helped you to get up.

"You'll be Grandmaster Bi-Han's prize tonight. I need you to take a bath and clean yourself everywhere. Make sure to use the oil for your skin. Once you're done, put the robe on and come find me back here." The woman instructed while the two of you went to the bathing room. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, tears forming in your eyes again.

"Good. Now, stop crying. He wants you natural and if you keep this up your face will be blotchy and swollen."

She opened the door for you. You stepped in, stopping in the doorway to admire the beauty of the room.

"You have thirty minutes until the grandmaster is finished with his day. Relax while you clean and pamper yourself. The grandmaster has a temper. It's best not to upset him.

Here," she put some towels, washcloths, and a robe in your hands. "Calm yourself and get clean so I can dress you."

She didn't give you time to respond as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Alone, you realized how quiet it was. The cold air was making you stiff. With a huff, you set to your task: washing and massaging the oil into your skin until you felt soft like silk. No matter what you did you couldn't stop the anger and depression. You threw on your robe and headed back to the busy room. You hoped the woman wouldn't notice your face was still puffy.

She noticed. Other than a sigh as she wiped around your eyes, she said nothing. A little powder, a simple hairstyle, and some sheer gloss highlighted your face. She dressed you in a silver cheongsam with various blues making up the embroidered bird pattern. Next, she placed a long, white fur cloak around your shoulders and shooed you away with instructions on how to get to where you needed to be.

When you reached the door it flew open, revealing a hulking presence. He peered down at you, his face set in a scowl. You shifted from one foot to another as he lazily took in your form.

"Inside," he quipped, grabbing your arm. He pulled you into the room before you had a chance to move yourself.

He walked you to the center of the sparsely decorated bedroom.

"Take off the fur."

You didn’t want to. He noticed the hesitation. Bi-Han narrowed his eyes. His hands flew up to your shoulders and pushed the cloak off.

His eyes seemed to warm as they trailed over your form. “Where did you get this outfit?”

“The old lady in the - “

“Shush. It’s perfect. Birds suit you. My colors suit you even better.”

Bi-Han took your hand in a tight grip and led you to the bed. His eyes undressed you as his hands did. You were trembling in fear. You’d never laid with a man, never even let a man see you without clothing on. As your dress fell to the floor you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. This was not how you thought your first time would go.

The grandmaster slid his hands down your sides, pausing to grip your hips. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin from his cold touch. His hands moved back up to your breasts. He squeezed them. A hum of appreciation sounded from him.

“You’ll do well in producing heirs.” He said flatly. His tone seemed at odds with his lust-filled expression and his exploring hands.

You bit your bottom lip and looked away. “What if I don’t?” You’d heard about women who couldn’t give male heirs. They didn’t last long.

“I’ll allow you to keep my bed warm.” he shrugged.

It wasn’t the answer you were expecting. However, you didn’t have much time to process it as he pushed you onto the bed. He crowded you, kissing and biting at your skin. It was overwhelming. There was some pleasure, but mostly pain. He was harsh in his fondling of your body. There was a slight reprieve when he sat up. You were hoping it meant he was done for some reason, but when he simply took his clothes off you knew it was going to be a long night.

He was barely any nicer to your body when he pushed his cock into your pussy. It stung and you tried to move away from him, but he held you tight.

“Stop pulling away,” he growled as he grabbed at your ankles.

“It hurts!”

Bi-Han let out a huff, repositioning himself so your legs were over his shoulders. The intensity of the new position had you crying out in shock. It hurt, but something else was taking over. Your eyes found the grandmaster’s. As cold as his touch was, his expression was burning. You’d seen boys drunk outside of alleyways, their glassy eyes a dead giveaway. That’s how Bi-Han looked. Like he was drunk and needed more. He shifted his hips slightly and you let out a shocked squeak.

“Gods, right there!” The words tumbled from your lips faster than you could even think of them.

Bi-Han smirked. “Anything for you, little bird.”

That yearning feeling in your gut was turning your thoughts into white noise. Everything came to a head all at once. The feeling seemed to explode inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut and you were sure you said something, but it sounded like babbling to your ears. Then, you felt a wet coldness inside you. Bi-Han fucked you through your orgasm, his own triggered by yours. As his hips slowed, your brain was able to catch up with your situation. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Hush, now.” Bi-Han cooed, kissing the tears. “You did well, little bird. I knew you would. You were always going to be mine.” He captured your lips in a consuming kiss.

#bi han x reader #dark!bi han x reader #yandere! bi han x reader #bi han x virgin!reader #potato requests

159 notes · View notes

mothxmoons · 1 year ago

Note

THE PART 2 TO THE MIND READER X WESKER!! IT WAS GREAT!! wesker's jealousy *chef's kiss* his vulgarity (vulgarness? idk) *chef's kiss* the slight nervousness of the reader *chef's kiss*

if you would, if you could please do a part 3, i would *chef's explode with love and joy* ❤️❤️❤️

:3 I am a little slow on requests because I’ve been learning Spanish

The restaurant was very nice and Wesker was very good company to have, even with his very vulgar thoughts throughout the dinner. He kept them to himself mostly, however he did drop hints about bringing you back home with him to keep the date going.

You didn’t see a problem with going home with him, it doesn’t really mean that anything will happen, right?

You were going to eat your words and you knew it the second his lips were on your neck and his thoughts melded with his words, pouring out in a never ending stream.

“Finally.”

“I’m going to breed you till you can’t stand.”

“All mine, all mine, no one else can have you like this.”

“You’ll never leave me, you’ll stay with me.”

You are definitely not going to feel your legs in the morning, with how he’s holding the headboard and almost breaking it, the same bruising grip on your hips. He was not lying about you not being able to leave his home once he was done with you. His lips were attached to your neck like a suction, he just can’t get enough either. Hip, thighs, hip, thighs, he could fit snuggly in them with his own.

“Look so good for me. Wanted this for so long. So, so long.”

“Can’t get enough of you, feel so good.”

His thoughts were never ending, wanting nothing more than to stay within your body, hip, thighs, hip, thighs, and a wet smacking sound every thrust.

Wesker seemed hellbent on making sure you wouldn’t be able to leave in the morning. Teeth gnawing at your neck, lips suctioned on your skin, multiple rounds had already passed and you could barely even moan any louder than a raspy noise escaping your throat. Hours and hours of him letting loose what he finally wanted the whole time. Months and years of pining finally amounted to this. Finally.

“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this.”

Well, you didn’t know he dreamed of it but you had some idea. With his thoughts constantly in your own head and his rough pace that he set, you could piece together how long he’s been waiting for this. The bed creaked and cracked with his pace, his head buried in your neck, one hand on your hip, keeping you in place, and the other gripping the headboard in a death grip.

The sounds he was making were by no means quiet, he was loud. Louder than your breathy pants and the slapping of skin against each other. Wesker had his face against your neck, kissing there, groaning loudly in your ear. Nose bumping against your ear in time with his thrusts.

“All mine, all mine. You’re finally all mine.”

“You’ll never leave me. Never.”

“I’ll mark you, no one else can ever have you like I do.”

“You’ll be staying with me. Until the end of time.”

He ripped himself from your body, his hands flying down to your hips to pin you down, growling as he came. Staring up at the ceiling as he caught his breath, his hips stutter against yours, moaning into the air.

You were also catching your breath, holding onto his bed with white knuckles, your back arching in the air, forcing your hips against his, riding out your high.

“You’ll always be mine.”

You watched as his chest heaved, watching his hair fall as he looked back down to you, leaning into you and kissing you gently. His hands had most definitely left marks in your hips. Wesker’s body laid on top of your’s, his hands finally leaving your hips and finding your’s.

“Finally mine.”

#asks!#albert wesker x reader #resident evil x reader #wesker x reader #wesker smut

465 notes · View notes

spacebaby1 · 4 months ago

Text

Only mine (1)

Warning: abusive family // bl00d

Sanzu stood there with his bloody katana in hand as he heard the rambling of your father and how he should be spared because of all his men are dead and that he owns the botan nothing but Sanzu was given one order "kill him" and he wasn't going to leave without finishing the job. When your father realised that it wasn't working all the shouting, he grabbed your wrist as you struggled to free yourself from it when he moved closer to Sanzu and pushed you towards Sanzu. Falling right in front of him, you yelped in fear of the katana he was holding, you were breathing rapidly as you looked up at Sanzu and he can clearly see the bruises all over your arms and face.

"Take her in exchange for my debt. She'll be of your masters use or yours. I don't care. Just take her." Sanzu moved closer as you shut your eyes when you saw him rising his katana in the air.

Sanzu walked in Mikey's office drenched in blood, "it's done." Usually, Sanzu would walk in and give the report then leave however he stood there making Mikey turn his chair towards him sensing that there is something else he wants to tell him, "Yes?" Mikey asked. Sanzu slightly turned his head to the side behind him. You peeked with a tight grip on Sanzu's shirt. "Who's this?" Mikey asked. Sanzu explained the whole situation as Mikey listened before getting up and making his way towards Sanzu and you.

You hid behind Sanzu pulling him back with you as Mikey got closer, "What's your name?" You didn't answer him, "how old are you?" You didn't answer. Just looked away. Mikey gave up and turned towards Sanzu, "if the mission is done, then it's your call to do as you find well." With that, Mikey walked back to his seat. Sanzu nodded, and you exchanged looked from Mikey and back at Sanzu.

Walking back to the elevator, you still had a tight grip on Sanzu's sleeve as if someone would snatch you if you let go. The elevator stopped, and kakucho entered, giving a nod to Sanzu, clearly not noticing at first. Slowly, he turned behind to look at Sanzu and peeked behind Sanzu; that's when he saw you hiding behind Sanzu, "is it me, or is there a girl gripping on your sleeve" Sanzu just nodded while you tried to hide behind Sanzu clearly terrified of everyone. kakucho smiled, waving at you, while you quickly moved further away, "Oh, she's doesn't seem to like me." He said, rubbing the back of his head with a nervous smile.

The car ride was complete silence. None of you said anything to another, and you just weren't sure what would happen to you. Will he return you home? Will he kill you? At this point, you didn't know what to feel. You just wanted to lie down. He stopped the car in front of a mansion, and you just watched in awe of the beautiful mansion, "Let's go," He said in a low voice and got out with you following behind him. You felt bad for stepping on the beautiful carpet with your bloody shoes, but Sanzu didn't seem to care at all as he walked further inside the house and upstairs. You stood there hands gripping on your shirt, he sensed you not following and stopped, walking few stairs down he forwarded his hand, without another word you took his hand and following him with your eyes down not daring to look up at his back.

He opened a bathroom door; it was designed elegantly and nodded for you to enter, which you did. He showed you how everything worked and where everything was before walking away and closing the door behind him. You immediately locked the door and walked away from the door. It took you few minutes before you actually stepped under the shower and it hit you how your father was ready to throw you over to a man he knew was dangerous and how Sanzu cut down your father's head without blinking. On the other hand, your father was always abusive towards you despite you being his only child, that man didn't care about you and you felt nothing towards his death but it still hurts that you are all alone not even sure what will happen to you the moment you leave the bathroom. It felt like hours as you sat in the shower until the water turned cold is when you decided to step out and wrap yourself in a towel, slowly opening the door you were about to call Sanzu but noticed the set of warm clothes on the flood near the door; he must've left them there, after changing in the clothes you stood out of the bathroom with your hair still wet. It was a huge house and you didn't know where to go, just then you heard footsteps. Sanzu was walking from downstairs and now dressed in much comfortable clothes; black hoodie that matched the one he gave you and a black sweatpants while he gave you a short that didn't seem like a short to you because of how long it was. "You're done showering?" You nodded, fidgeting with your hands. He slowly grabbed your hand, making you flinch a bit at the sudden touch of his hand. You followed him downstairs, and once you were in the huge living room, he motioned for you to sit on the leather couch that you did, and he sat beside you before placing the towel over your head making you gasp, "Relax, i'll dry your hair or you'll catch cold." You said nothing and let him dry your hair, "you don't have to be scared of me, I'll take care of you." Your breath hitched at his words, and you turned behind, with a confused look on your face, and he nodded, "you can stay with me, and that way I can take care of you. I can let you go but I won't promise that no one will come after you. I can make the rest look after you, too, if you agree to what I'm asking you." He stopped drying up your hair and slowly turned you to face him, "marry me." You blinked at him then back at your hands that were threatening to bleed from how much you were fidgeting with your fingers, "you don't have to do anything just sign the marriage contract and you'll belong to me."

You looked at him and nodded, "Okay." Was all he said before resting his hand on your head, "I'll take care of you..." He waited for you to say your name while you just looked at him blinking, not getting the silence, and looked back at your hand away from him. He didn't want you leaving his side from then on.

#sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu headcanons #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu x y/n #sanzu tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers fanfiction #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x you #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu

86 notes · View notes

randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

Text

All For You - Neteyam x Ta'unui ! reader (enemies to lovers) - pt. 2

*Ta'unui is the Eastern Sea water clan that was attacked by Quaritch

part 1

summary: When Quaritch attacks the Ta’unui water clan looking for Jake Sully, the clan’s Tsahik forces her younger sister, Y/N, to escape and seek refuge from the Metkayina clan. As Y/N deals with the trauma of losing her home, she discovers that she isn’t the only outlander in the village. She develops conflicted feelings for Neteyam but the tensions grow when Y/N finds out that Neteyam is the son of Jake Sully - the man she hates.

genres/tropes: angst, romance, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, slowburn

other pairings: Loak x Tsireya, Kiri x Ao’nung, platonic relationships (Y/N x Kiri x Tsireya, Y/N x Jake, Y/N x Neytiri)

warnings: war, mentions of blood, PTSD, trauma, survivor guilt, character near-death experience, slightly aged up neteyam, dialogues are supposed to be in na'vi, not english, lots of side eyes, braids swaying, and neteyam appearing out of nowhere like the batman lol

word count: 30,2k (ik this is insane)

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next morning you try to occupy yourself with whatever tasks to avoid running into Neteyam. You think that both of you need some time before returning back to your usual selves. What if he starts hating you?

Tsireya silently works along you, as you’re gathering berries. She doesn’t ask you anything about last night but you’re convinced that she suspects something happened.

“Y/N,” you hear someone call out your name.

Neytiri waves you over. You notice her wearing a different belt with two small knives hanging from each side, and a bow in her hands. Oh shit.

“Are you going to fly with Neytiri?” Tsireya asks, curiously. You nod.

“Come,” Neytiri shouts again.

When you join Neytiri, you feel nervous. And it’s not because of her anymore, but because Neteyam promised to join you too, and you’re scared you might run into him any minute now. But as you walk with her to your marui to retrieve your weapons, and head into the trees, there is no sign of Neteyam.

“This is my ikran,” Neytiri pats the greenish-yellow creature on its head with a smile.

The sound the ikran makes terrifies you, but she only laughs at your reaction. You've heard stories about the forest clans riding ikrans, but you've never seen one up close, let alone flown on one. You also knew of the special bond that exists between the forest Na’vi and their ikrans; they could only choose one for the rest of their lives, and in return, the ikran had to choose and remain loyal to them. This bond was unbreakable, for life.

“You will fly with me,” Neytiri explains, as she checks the armor on her companion. You watch her attentively. “We will hunt later, so you can try shooting in the air.”

You nod your head, taking a step closer. The ikran lets out another sound but Neytiri quickly calms it down, encouraging you to keep closing the distance. A few moments of patience pay off when the ikran lets you pat its head. Overwhelmed, you let out a breathy laugh.

“Now, let’s go,” Neytiri jumps on the back of the ikran, helping you up.

“Is Neteyam going to join us?”

“He is with his father,” Neytiri says, as she pushes the straps of the armor into your hands, “Grab on these. Neteyam will come if they finish early.”

You take a deep breath, as you feel the ikran jerk under you. A big wave of air hits you in the face, and you grab harder onto the handles not to fall. When you gaze down at the view below, you feel your heart race. You never even dreamt of flying but this seems like something you were waiting for your whole life.

As you fly higher and higher, you notice how confident Neytiri is in her movements. She controls the ikran with ease, guiding it smoothly around curves of the cliffs, between trees and small nooks. You grip the armor of the ikran tightly, fear and adrenaline rushing through your blood.

Neytiri takes a dip, and as you feel exhilarated by the sensation of the wind running through your hair, you let out a laugh. She looks back at you with a toothy grin.

“Tie your feet,” she shouts, slowing down the ikran.

You obey, tying the straps around your feet to the armor.

“Done,” you shout back.

Neytiri makes a slow turn. She circles around a small lake, hidden between the green of the island. Just above the water, you can see a small flock of tetrapterons, graciously soaring.

“Take out your arrow and bow,” Neytiri orders, “We will take them by surprise. Some birds will fly away but some will fly right at us. That is your best chance.”

“I’m ready,” you reply with a newly gained confidence.

You ready your bow, adjusting in your seat, and praying to Eywa that you won’t fall off. As Neytiri’s ikran circles closer, you feel alert at the sheer number of them. Neytiri navigates the ikran around the flock, and immediately, loud screeches strike your ears, as the birds disperse.

Focused, you take one look to find your prey. You take an aim, and feel a rush of adrenaline, as you release the arrow and watch it hit its target. You shriek in excitement, marking your victory.

“Well done!”

“This is great!” you shout, raising your hands over your head, and feeling the wind.

After some more flying, you get to see Neytiri in action. She’s graceful and fast, her arrows shooting through the target every single time perfectly, while she’s still flying her ikran. You hunt for a bit more, diving to collect your prey before returning back. You jump off to the ground, adrenaline rushing through your veins, as you watch Neytiri feed the ikran with one of the birds you caught.

“Oh, that was incredible!” you grin ear to ear, earning a smile from Neytiri.

“You are a skilled hunter, Y/N,” she compliments you, “And you have never flown before.”

“I can’t even imagine how exciting it is when you have a connection with the ikran,” you come closer, petting the creature that has already grown used to you.

“It is. It’s a connection for life,” Neytiri confirms, “You feel everything they feel. The freedom, the wind.”

You watch her with admiration, recalling the way she hunts. You don’t think you have ever even come close to being as graceful as she is. Not even in the water.

The two of you sit on the grass, the ikran stretching not too far away from you, closing its eyes. Neytiri lets you catch your breath before giving you the task of removing the arrows from the birds you caught.

“You turned down Neteyam last night,” she suddenly says, and you feel your heart picking up on a faster rhythm, “Did he do something stupid?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head, avoiding her eyes.

“Then why? Have you chosen somebody else?” while her voice remains soft, you feel pressured.

“That is not the reason,” you sigh, “I… I like Neteyam. I think he is kind.”

“And you?” she nudges you with a small smile.

“And I am not worth him,” you shrug your shoulders, hoping that your answer would satisfy her.

“Nonsense,” Neytiri shakes her head, “Tell me the truth.”

You fall silent, biting down on your lip. You didn’t even have the guts to explain it properly to Neteyam, let alone to his mother. Hell, you didn’t know what to say to yourself. She doesn’t know that the thoughts of Neteyam have been driving you crazy. You feel guilty and frustrated because you can’t go back home but you also feel like you don’t deserve to live a new happy life here. You won’t be able to make him happy.

“Y/N,” Neytiri says, putting her hand on your shoulder, “Whatever is holding you back can be fought. The Great Mother guided you through the water, she helped you survive for a reason. Nothing should stop you now.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you whisper, “Now is not the time.”

“I used to think that when I met Jake. But it’s never going to be the right time.”

You look back at her, searching for more answers. You recall the stories Neteyam told you about his parents the night you spent together. When you first heard them, you thought they were brave to choose each other. Maybe even a little selfish.

“Mom,” your ears perk up at Neteyam’s shout, as he jumps off his ikran.

Neytiri waves her son over, and as Neteyam walks up to you, you notice blood on his forehead.

“Y/N,” he greets you with a forced smile. You awkwardly greet him back.

“What happened to you?” Neytiri stands up to examine his forehead, then circles him, looking at his back, and arms.

You jump to your feet too, following her expressions, in case she finds something.

“I’m alright, you should see dad,” Neteyam chuckles, then winces, as Neytiri slaps his arm.

“What did you two do? I told you not to be careless!” she gets angry.

“Nothing,” Neteyam pulls away, “We were flying around the cliffs of another island but there was a thick fog. Dad couldn’t see anything, so he hit a cliff. I was just behind him…I didn’t hit anything but when he fell, he took me down with him.”

“Stupid!” she scolds him, “Where is he?”

“At Tsahik’s,” Neteyam winces again, shaking off his arm. He must have hurt it, you think.

“Come,” Neytiri orders.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Jake looks exhausted and in pain, his forehead creased with a frown. Neytiri sits next to him, peppering him with questions while Ronal tends to his wounds. You and Neteyam sit back, the awkward silence between you palpable. He avoids your gaze, and you can’t really blame him for that.

“No, that wasn’t fog," Jake’s voice catches your attention.

"What then, Ma'Jake?" Neytiri leans forward, her expression curious.

"It was smoke," Jake replies, his breath ragged. "I could smell it. And it was too thick. I couldn't see a thing."

You cover your mouth in shock, as a realization hits you. If the smoke was caused by the sky people, it means the trouble is closer. Ronal throws a quick glance at Neteyam, before shoving one of the balms she just used into your hands. When you look at her, confused, she points to Neteyam’s forehead, covered in blood.

You curse Tsireya for abandoning you to assist Tsahik. She never leaves her mother alone, she is the tsakarem! You know that it was exactly her intention to leave you with Neteyam.

“No need, I can do it myself,” Neteyam raises his palms to stop you, but Ronal only tsks at him.

He can’t even see his wounds, let alone treat them, you think. With your breath shaky, you walk to Neteyam, taking in the damages on his arms and forehead. You hope that by the time you get to it, Ronal will take over, so you don’t have to stare at his face. Neteyam looks at you from underneath his lashes.

“Sorry, I wasn’t there today,” he mumbles, “I know I promised but…”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say quietly, “It was fun.”

“I told you,” Neteyam gives you a small smile.

Knowing him, he can’t stay mad at you forever. He knows it’s wrong to be petty. Still, it hurts.

You gently shove him to turn around to examine the multiple cuts on his back. He’s not bleeding but they look nasty. You take a breath before applying some of the balm onto his wounds, and you see his muscles clench.

“Shit,” you hear Neteyam wince.

You remember the same balm used on you when you first arrived, and the burning pain that followed. Hesitantly, you lean closer to blow cold air on his wounds. Neteyam's back muscles slowly relax under the feeling. It is not enough to stop the pain, but it's still a small relief. You blow a few more times before the burning dies down.

“Turn around,” you order quietly, and he complies.

You feel blood rushing to your cheeks, as you take one of his arms, to tend to the wounds you saw earlier. Neteyam watches you carefully, wincing as you start applying the balm. Instinctively, he tries to jerk his arm away but you hold him in place.

“Mawey,” you whisper. He clenches his jaw but stops moving.

After you finish applying the balm to his other arm, you realize that the adults have slipped away. You heard Ronal being rushed to treat an injured Na’vi, but not Neytiri and Jake leaving.

“Almost done. Now, the nasty one,” you breathe out, pointing to Neteyam’s forehead.

He closes his eyes, preparing for the pain, but instead of the balm, you take a damp cloth to his forehead. He flinches in surprise underneath the soft touch and opens his eyes.

“It’s a big cut,” you explain, “I need to clean it first.”

“Y/N,” Neteyam’s voice is low, “About last night.”

You gulp down, nervously, not meeting his eyes, instead focusing all of your concentration on cleaning his wound. But he’s so close, you can feel his breath on your skin.

“You didn’t have to explain anything to me. I-I,” he takes a shaky breath, "A mature Na'vi must face rejection because you can't force your heart to feel something it doesn't. And if you don't feel the same for me as I do for you, then I must accept that without question."

He is too noble for his own good, you think. You stop, and lower your hand to look at his face.

“Neteyam, you got it wrong,” you let out a deep sigh, “I didn’t reject you because I don’t have feelings for you. I turned you down because I’m scared that it could ruin us and jeopardize you as the future of your family.”

Neteyam frowns, trying to process your words. This whole time he had been so certain that you simply didn't reciprocate his feelings, that he had almost grown used to that idea.

“Why are you scared?” Neteyam takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “You know I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“‘Teyam,” you whisper, too overwhelmed to meet his gaze.

He releases your hand and cups your cheek tenderly, bringing your foreheads together. Though you're standing, towering slightly over him, it doesn't distract from the moment.

“Please, just for a moment, let me be honest with you,” Neteyam says, nuzzling your face, “Will you?”

“I will,” you agree. All he has to do is ask, you’ll always agree.

“I see you, Y/N,” Neteyam whispers.

You feel your breath catch in your throat. You knew he was going to say it but it still felt unexpected. Neteyam's fingers caress your cheeks with love, waiting for your response. With anything. As long as he gets a response. You lean in and touch his lips with yours, and both your hearts start racing.

There is a small pause before Neteyam kisses you back softly and slowly. You close your eyes and give in to him, as he pulls you closer and closer, until there's no more space left between you.

Overwhelmed, you eventually pull away, catching your breath. A toothy grin appears on Neteyam's face, making your heart ache with love. You wish you could always make him smile like this.

“Now is not the time, Neteyam,” you try to discipline him but instead his smile grows even bigger. Is he mocking you?

Your cheeks flush with heat as you try to calm down your racing heart, but Neteyam only seems to find your reaction funny. He reaches his arm to touch yours.

“I feel the happiest,” he says.

“It’s not the time,” you repeat again, trying to sound stern this time, “You’re bleeding.”

You notice red running from his wound, and sigh, as you take the cloth, and start cleaning it. Neteyam follows your movement with a smile resting on his lips but he lets you work.

You can’t really believe that you kissed Neteyam. You tried resisting before getting sucked into the fantasy of being his, but the thoughts of returning home continue to nag at you.

He doesn’t know that it’s been days since you thought about it. Going home. The nightmare you had about your sister has left you feeling like Eywa was trying to send you a message. So you desperately wanted to check for yourself. What if she’s been alive this whole time waiting for you to come home? What if she’s with Eywa now, and you've neglected to send your prayers, instead living a new life? Just the thought of it makes you feel sick. You know that you can't wait any longer.

Neteyam lets out a soft gasp, bringing you back to reality. You blow on the balm you've just applied to his forehead to ease his pain.

“Thank you,” he places his palm on your waist.

“You’re welcome.”

“Now nothing will hold me back from being yours,” he says, taking your hand and placing it over his heart.

“Neteyam -”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts you, “You think this is not the right time, but what matters to me is that you reciprocated.”

“Of course I did,” you decide to tease him, switching the topic, “I couldn’t break your heart, when you had blood all over you.”

“Is that so?” he quirks his eyebrow, eyes twinkling,“If I had known that it takes me getting hurt to be treated so nicely, I would have got hurt a long time ago.”

“That’s not funny,” you slap his chest, earning him a laugh.

For a second, you’re reminded of the plan you had. You hang your head low before speaking.

“I can’t promise you anything right now, ‘Teyam. Not until I am sure.”

“Sure about what?” he looks at you confused.

“There’s just something that...I need to be certain of before I give in to this,” you say, gesturing between you. You feel terrible for getting his hopes high. Why did you have to kiss him?

“I’ll wait,” he says. You look up at him in surprise, “However long it takes.”

You had everything planned out. It was so simple before he had to come in and mess up your head. You would sneak away in the dark, hoping to get to the Eastern shore by the morning. With a healthy young ilu, the journey would take less time now, and you were confident that your instincts would lead you by the same route you took when you escaped before. You had to see your home.

Neteyam is a distraction. He would come in, trying to save you, hold you back. He will fight you, and push your buttons, telling you that it is a bad idea. Make it harder for you to leave.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following week seems to drag on even slower than before, with no news of new attacks. While it seemed like something good, in reality, you were scared that the sky demons were planning a bigger strike. Lo’ak has a theory that they were tracking you down with their fancy weapons, instead of wasting resources on other villages. Neteyam discredits his brother to make the rest of you feel better, but, judging by his eyes, you think he believes it too.

During these days, it’s hard for you to keep your distance with Neteyam, especially when you’re not alone. Despite his promise to wait for you, there is this new spark in him that makes him act carelessly. He can’t hide it around the others, staring at you and touching you at every opportunity he gets. Overwhelmed, in return, you overcompensate by ignoring him. You can’t let anyone find out. Because once it’s out in the open, you’ll feel pressured to become mates. And you were not ready.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“What the hell, Neteyam? I almost had it!” you shout at him in anger.

“It was going to swim away if I hadn’t shot,” he responds with a self-assured tone, like he is talking to a child.

It was early in the morning, when you decided to head out for some hunting near the caves at the back of the island. And just as you were about to feel the sweet satisfaction of catching a srakat that you’ve been preying on, an arrow whizzed past you and struck the fish.

Neteyam found your expression amusing, not knowing the effort and patience you had put into finding those damned srakat caves, nor did he understand how much it annoyed you when someone interrupted your hunt.

“You should have minded your own business!” you hiss at him.

Neteyam rubs his eyes, and you can’t believe his audacity. He ruined your hunt and now he’s the one rubbing his eyes like he’s about to get a headache?

“Did I ask you to help me?” you ask him, feeling your blood boil.

"Do you ever ask?" Neteyam huffs in annoyance. You have a feeling this is something deeper.

“Oh forgive me, Neteyam, my savior,” you mock him, “What was it you called yourself? The mighty warrior? Well, can a mighty warrior return to being his mighty self and leave the real hunters to actually hunt?”

“When it comes to swimming, I get it!” he throws his hands in the air, exasperated “I always listen to you because you grew up in the water. I know you know better, so I listen to you -”

“Exactly!” you interrupt him, feeling a surge of irritation.

“Let me finish,” Neteyam rolls his eyes. “But when it comes to hunting, why can’t you trust someone who has been holding a bow and arrow in his hands before he started walking?”

“Do you think you’re the only one that hunts?” you ask him, confused. “Catch up, forest boy. We know how to use bows and arrows, but spears are easier when hunting down bigger prey. Especially srakat.”

“A good hunter works with precision and a small window of time, your method was doomed from the beginning,” he argues.

“It’s not about precision, it’s about patience and force! You can’t possibly shoot a srakat from a distance. If it spots you, you’re never going to see it again. You were just lucky that we were so close to it, otherwise your arrow wouldn’t even poke its armor.”

“Yet, who’s the one holding the trophy?” he raises his eyebrow at you, expectantly.

“Now you’re just pissing me off on purpose,” you hiss at him.

His ears flutter in response. Neteyam attempts to cover them with his hands but it is too late. Is this what you think it is? Did seeing you this angry suddenly bring him pleasure?

“You, skxawng. Are you seriously this excited seeing me angry?” you can’t believe him.

“No,” he denies, “On the contrary, I’m frustrated with your stupidity!”

“You’re the stupid one!” you poke his chest with your finger.

It takes you by surprise when he wraps his fingers around your wrist. You’re standing too close to each other, your breaths catching. Neither of you looks away, trying to read each other's thoughts. It's been a while since he's been this close to you since your kiss in the marui, and you’re suddenly reminded why. Your gaze falls to his lips, sending him a sign. Neteyam kisses you, and this time you can’t pull yourself away.

Your bodies embrace, holding each other tight, and as you kiss, it feels like the two of you are fighting over who gets to taste more. You pull him closer by the nape of his neck, and a soft moan escapes his lips. He kneels, and you follow suit, the kiss unbroken.

Kissing him is overwhelming, greedy. You sit on him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Neteyam places your hand on his chest, and you can feel his heart beating rapidly. He reaches for your queue, and you don't resist.

“Y/N,” he gasps, pulling back, “Stop.”

“What is it?” you ask offended.

“Eywa,” he says. You notice he's holding your queue between his fingers. He lets it slip away.

“She hasn’t blessed us,” you voice his concern out loud, “Not as mates anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Neteyam’s ears perk up in surprise, “Did she give you a sign about me?”

“Kind of.”

“Tell me,” he is eager, it amuses you.

“No, I think it might go to your head,” you tease him, with a playful smile.

“Y/N,” his voice is so serious, you crack.

“Alright,” you roll your eyes, letting your fingers wander over his broad shoulders, “The other day, when we were at the Spirit Tree, and it was windy, a seed floated around me, and then around you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Neteyam looks at you offended. You find it amusing.

“Because you were really getting on my nerves back then,” you admit, “And honestly, you��re still kind of annoying me now.”

“I’m the annoying one?” Neteyam’s face lightens up with a sleazy smile.

Before you know it, he pins you to the ground, hanging above you. He seems to like this position a little too much. His fingers tickle your stomach and neck, forcing giggles and squeals from you, as you try to escape.

“Neteyam, stop!”

“Say you’re sorry!” he demands, pausing for a moment to give you a chance to save yourself.

"I'm not going to lie," you reply, your voice catching in your throat as he continues to tickle you, "FIne! I'm sorry! I give up!"

“Sorry for what?”

“Not telling you sooner!”

“And who am I?” he quirks his eyebrow.

“Neteyam,” you whimper, but he shakes his head, “‘Teyam!”

“Hm,” he pretends to think about it, “Not bad but you have to try harder if you want to get out of here still alive.”

You feel out of breath, smiling like a fool. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“The mighty warrior,” you let out. His face immediately lightens up.

“Smart girl,” Neteyam leans in, nuzzling his forehead against yours.

“You called me stupid two seconds ago,” you huff but he shuts you up with a gentle kiss.

Words can’t describe how giddy you feel. It's unbelievable. You’re kissing him! Neteyam. Just a few weeks ago, you despised him with every fiber of your being. Your grandmother used to say that hate is a form of love, and you're starting to believe that now. Because at this moment, it feels like there's no one in the world except him. With his lips on yours, and his hand gently cupping your cheek while you play with his braids, you feel all the negative thoughts being pushed out of your mind.

“Oh, sweet Eywa,” you pull away from him, suddenly realizing.

“What?”

“Is that why you’re annoying me? Because I was ignoring you,” you accuse him.

“What, no way,” he denies, yet it’s so easy to spot his lies.

“You’re lying, you skxawng!” you wrap your arms around his neck, “Look at that sleazy grin on your face. And your ears! They were fluttering when I was yelling at you!”

Neteyam cracks under your gaze, and starts laughing. You take a second to admire this sound. It’s so genuine, so warm. Oh Eywa, you wish to hear that laughter every day. You gaze into his golden eyes with so much love, you feel like your heart is going to burst.

“What are you thinking about?” Neteyam asks softly, noticing how quiet you got.

“I see you, Neteyam.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Like on the schedule, the storm doesn’t take long to arrive. Tears blur your vision as you witness a Tulkun floating on the surface with its eyes closed. There are blurs of bright orange at her sides that confirm she’s been killed by the sky demons. Devastation fills the air, with Ronal trying to revive her soul sister, praying to Eywa. But everyone knows it's too late. When she finally gives up, a painful shriek breaks the silence. You sob quietly, as you feel Neteyam’s hands wrap around you in comfort. You can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a soul sister.

When Tonowari calls for a meeting, there is a mixture of anger and sorrow in the air. The Metkayina hunters wear their armors, holding weapons in their hands, ready to fight. Tonowari orders everyone to prepare to avenge the death of Tulkun.

Jake jumps into the circle, pleading with him to stop. He thinks that it is a trap set by the sky demons to lure them out, that they’re planning something worse. When the others try to silence his father, Neteyam intervenes, asking them to listen. His desperation weighs heavy on your heart. Jake raises a piece of metal retrieved from the Tulkun's side, causing everyone to fall silent.

“You tell the Tulkun, if they are hit by one of these, they are marked for death,” he says.

Tonowari seems to listen. He orders the clan to pass the message to their soul-brothers and soul-sisters, and tell them to leave before it’s too late.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, ‘Teyam, but you gotta move out of the way,” you sigh, tired of arguing with him.

“I’m not letting you go there, it is too dangerous,” his accent becomes more evident with the anger building up inside, “Let’s wait. I will talk to dad, we will think of something safer.”

“I don’t need you to talk to your dad!” you grow frustrated with him, “I don’t need you involving anybody else. I have thought about this. I know what to do.”

“It’s risky, Y/N, you know it is.”

“I do. But they’ve sent us a clear sign,” you point at the water, reminding him of the dead Tulkun, “They know exactly where to shoot now. Exactly where to hurt. And I can’t keep going on like this… I need to know what happened before I lose my sanity, sitting here and waiting for death,” you’re so tired, you’re ready to break down right here. Just to feel him wrap his arms around you and comfort you.

“Y/N,” Neteyam’s gaze softens at the tremble in your voice, “I can’t lose you.”

“This is why I didn’t want you to -” you stop yourself before you say something hurtful. It’s really not his fault that you gave in to this fantasy of being his, “Please. Move.”

It’s only a second of hesitation on his side but it’s just enough to give you an opening. You charge past him into the water, your ilu already waiting. The cool water rushes over you, as you swim ahead, determined to get as far from him as you can. You hear his voice call out to you.

“I’m not letting you go there alone!”

The death of Tulkun has only added to your fears of the sky demons targeting the Metkayina. Your nightmares have become more frequent. It’s the same one, every night, and you just can't wait anymore for another sign from Eywa. You need to figure out for yourself what happened to your home, and to your sister.

When Neteyam caught you sneaking at night, it wasn’t hard to guess that you were trying to leave the perimeters of the village. Of course, he is worried about your safety. You'll be alone in the open water, with the sky demons lurking nearby, looking for their next prey. What if they spot you before you can hide? What if they catch you? He’s not going to lose you right after he spilled his heart out to you. It’s not fair.

It’s still dark out, as you swim ahead, following your instincts. You can sense that Neteyam is close behind but you don’t acknowledge him. You're determined to see this through.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the sun rises, you and Neteyam arrive at the village. You can feel your heart sink at the sight of what remains of it. It’s hardly recognizable: everything you knew and loved has disappeared into smoldering ruins.

You unlink from your ilu, taking a few steps further. Even the sand underneath your feet seems to be dark gray from the fire. Your eyes roam over the burnt structures of the old maruis and the pieces of clothes and weapons scattered on the ground, showing how little regard the sky demons had for your Na'vi.

You feel the weight of guilt and anger welling up inside and crushing down on you, as you continue walking. You stop when you step closer to the remains of a marui where your sister and her mate used to stay. It was easy to tell apart from the others: as the leaders of the clan, they used to have a big home. You were always jealous of all the space they had, which from the very beginning was destined for the children they were going to have. Streams of tears rush down your face, and you can’t help the sobs threatening to close up your throat.

Neteyam, who was right behind you all this time, gently rests his hand on your shoulder. You turn around, desperately burying your face in his chest. He holds you tightly, with his hands on your back, running them up and down in a comforting motion. He feels his own heart breaking at the sound of your crying.

It takes you a long time before you can pull away from his arms, ready to face the reality again. Neteyam asks if you want to go back but you can only shake your head. Not until you know the fate of the Tree of Souls. It was the sacred place where your clan used to go to pray, hidden away in an underwater cave, on the far edge of the island. The Tree was still small, still growing, but it was the only source of light in the darkness. You pray that its secrecy has kept it safe from destruction.

You pull Neteyam by the hand, leading him towards the cave. The once bright and lively colors of the plants now seem dull. As you dive in, a faint light catches your eyes. The Tree of Souls. Quickly, you swim to it, desperate to feel its warmth and connection to Eywa. But the light the Tree radiates is too weak, barely breaking the darkness around it. You cover your mouth with your hands, in shock. Behind you, Neteyam squeezes your shoulder, as you bring out your queue to the Tree, ready to cling to it. You close your eyes, focusing on your bond, and ask the Great Mother for guidance.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When your eyes flutter open, you find yourself back on the familiar beach. Your village looks just as it did in the past, with all of the maruis standing in place, untouched.

“Y/N?” you hear your sister’s voice, as she appears in front of you with a warm smile. This can’t be real.

You shake your head in denial, as tears fill up your eyes. With the signs you received from Eywa, deep down you had hoped that she wouldn’t be here. That somehow she had survived and just ran away to live somewhere else. That she hadn’t died for you.

But there she was. Gracing you with the warmest smile and wrapping you in the tightest hug. Wearing the headpiece that you helped her decorate, when she was first pronounced the Tsahik of Ta'unui. It was the happiest day.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, pulling away to look at you.

“I missed you,” you sniff.

“I missed you too,” she cups your face lovingly.

Although your nightmare threatens to repeat itself, you allow her to guide you towards the water without objection. It’s crystal clear and the sky is cloudless. You’re not scared that she may let go of your hand anymore. Together you swim, holding hands, and admiring the depths of the sea. As you both dive deeper, you come across a cluster of yellow plants that glow, breathing in and out.

“I want to lay here someday,” she gestures, and the realization hits you. This is how the water takes, claims the dead.

Heavy-hearted, you get back to the beach with her, stretching out on the sand. You wish you could stay with her. Just the two of you.

“Are you happy?” she asks you, “It seems like you’re letting the bad thoughts consume you.”

“You know me too well, sister,” you smile, “I don’t know how to start again after losing everything.”

“You just have to accept that you can never bring the past back,” she responds thoughtfully, “What scares you?”

“I’ve met someone… And I’m scared to promise myself to him. I don’t think I can make him happy.”

“Well, why?” she urges you to open up. You can only shake your head, feeling the weight of guilt crushing you. “Is he kind?” she prompts.

“He is, he has the kindest heart.”

“Is he patient?”

“Too much for his own good,” you chuckle.

“Does he love you?”

“He does,” you wince.

“I don’t see what scares you, Y/N,” she smiles proudly, “You deserve happiness. Leave the past behind you.”

“But what about you?” you frown, feeling like she is slipping away from you.

“I will be the happiest when you are too, tsmuke.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you swim back up, you spot Neteyam sitting on the flat rocks, inside the cave. You catch his attention right away.

“Are you alright?” he leans in, helping you out of the water, “You were in there for a long time.”

“I am… the nightmare was a sign from Eywa,” you breathe out, taking a seat by him, “I think there was a burial ceremony the night when I first saw it. The Ta'unui who lived gave their final prayers to the fallen before leaving here.”

“Is she with Eywa now?” he asks carefully, and you nod, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s alright,” you sigh with a small smile, “I’m just happy I saw her.”

Neteyam embraces you tightly. You’re not sure if it’s meant to comfort you or himself but you’re pleased, feeling him so close to you. You tug at his queue lightly, signaling him to pull away.

“What is it?” he asks.

“I want to ask Eywa for a blessing,” you smile at him, nuzzling his face, “I want to be promised to you forever.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you make your way back home, you and Neteyam exchange giddy laughs, when he occasionally circles around your ilu, playfully teasing you. This newfound feeling of Neteyam being yours makes you overwhelmed with your love for him. Though you both agreed to wait, you were blessed by the Great Mother and that was all that mattered.

Suddenly, Neteyam stops and puts his fingers to his ear, listening in. Annoyance flickers across his face before he touches his necklace.

“Get away from there, as fast as you can Lo’ak,” he growls, “We’ll be there soon. I don’t care, tell father right now.”

You watch with concern, as Neteyam takes off at lightning speed. You barely manage to keep up with him, urging your ilu to swim faster.

“It’s Lo’ak,” Neteyam shouts, unwilling to slow down, “He went to warn Payakan about the Tulkun’s death, but Payakan has been marked.”

“Is he okay?” you ask worried.

“He’s trying to get it out. But the skxwang brought everyone with him. Kiri, Tsireya, Ao’nung, and even Tuk followed them,” Neteyam shakes his head in frustration.

You swim faster and faster, when finally, you can spot Payakan, with the silhouettes of your friends, standing on its back. Neteyam takes off and helps them right away but you fall back, when another movement catches your eyes. A large ship is approaching and quickly coming into view.

“”Teyam,” you shout, swimming to them, “They’re here!”

Everyone's heads turn in the direction you point. As the ship gets closer, it seems to grow in size, and your voice catches in your throat. Neteyam quickly takes charge, rushing everyone back to their ilus.

“We’re swimming back now, sir,” he presses on his necklace, “Roger that.”

“Is that your dad? What is he saying?” you ask him.

“They’re getting ready to attack. But we have to leave now.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N, help!” you hear Lo’ak’s voice, as you catch a sight of him on the ilu, with Neteyam laid over his knees.

It seems like just a moment ago, you were helping free Tuk and Tsireya, urging them to retreat to the shore with you, as the Metkayina battled the sky demons. Despite your pleas, Lo'ak picked up a weapon and charged into the explosions. Neteyam shook his head before picking up a weapon himself.

“Neteyam, please,” you pulled him by his hand, “Don’t go there.”

“Don’t worry, just get Tuk to safety,” Neteyam squeezed your hand in his, “I’ll be right behind you, you won’t even notice.”

“But Neteyam -” he shutted you with a kiss, before pulling away with a smile.

“Go, now,” he rushed at you, disappearing into the battle.

You shouldn’t have let him go. Panic and fear overwhelm you, as you try to help Lo’ak and his human friend get Neteyam to the land. Your heart drops when you see red running out of his chest.

"Y/N, he’s been shot!” Lo'ak's voice breaks through your thoughts.

Immediately, you kneel down, Tsireya joining you to examine him. Neteyam barely keeps his eyes open, as you take in a deep wound on his chest, blood gushing out of it. You can’t see the bullet.

“‘Teyam! You’re fine,” you touch his face.

“What do we do?” Lo’ak asks panicked.

“I’m going to get my mom,” Tsireya stands up but Lo’ak pulls her back by her hand.

“Ronal is out there fighting.”

“You’re the tsakarem, you must help him,” you almost hiss at Tsireya.

Neteyam lets out a weak cough, clearly hurting. You press your fingers onto his wound, trying to apply more pressure. You can feel the warmth of the blood seeping through your fingers, and press down harder, almost trying to force it back. You can’t lose him now. Not right after you found him.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” you beg him, tears filling up your eyes, “Tsireya, help me.”

Tsireya complies right away, helping you apply pressure down on Neteyam’s chest.

“Go to Tsahik’s room and find the blue balm she keeps by the wall. And bring back as many bandages as you can,” she tells Lo’ak, then turns to you with a whisper, “I don’t want to scare Tuk, but we must get the bullet out.”

You take a quick look at Tuk, wrapped up in her own arms, crying. You have forgotten she was here with you, watching her big brother suffer in pain. Your heart aches for her.

“Ma‘Teyam, are you with me?”

“Y/N,” Neteyam breathes out, a weak smile on his face. His hand cups your cheek, and you immediately cover his with yours, smearing the blood all over you, “I want to go home.”

“You’re not going anywhere without me anymore, you hear that?” you force yourself to smile through your tears.

From the corner of your eye, you notice Lo’ak and his friend returning back, and Tsireya rushes to him to take the supplies. They flee, as she takes a seat by you again, then brings out her knife. She starts speaking to you, as if she wants you to do something but you can’t really hear her. And your mind takes you to a bad place.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N,” Tsireya’s voice sounds far away, “I need you to help”

Everything unraveling around you seems to pass in a blur. One moment, you see little Tuk by Neteyam’s unconscious body, with her small hands pressing over his chest. Your eyes take in a knife, covered in blood, with its sharp tip poking through the blood with quick careful motions. Then, Tsireya throws the knife away, as her fingers dig into the wound. Your eyes widen as she pulls out a bullet, covered in thick blood.

“I got it, Y/N,” Tsireya’s voice snaps you back into reality, “But I think he’s doing worse.”

You only nod and lean in to check Neteyam's breathing, but there's no sign of life. Frantically, you search for his pulse, but again, nothing. When you press your ear to his chest, straining to hear any sound, your heart races. It's like searching for a glimmer of light in the dark depths of the ocean, but at last, you hear the faintest heartbeat.

This weak, fragile beat is all that matters to you. Like a drug, it floods your veins with a surge of adrenaline, tuning out every bad thought and emotion. You quickly spring into action, now overtaking Tuk’s responsibility, as you tear a piece of your cloth to start cleaning his wound.

“Y/N, his lungs are giving out,” Tsireya voices her concern, as she thoroughly applies a thick scoop of the blue balm to the wound. “If he doesn’t start breathing on his own soon, this is pointless.”

“I know… I know what to do,” you mumble, thinking back on the chest compressions Neteyam performed on Kiri when she was struggling to breathe, “But we need to wrap this very tightly.”

Doubts flood your mind as you begin the compressions, questioning whether you are counting correctly or making the injury worse. Tsireya checks his pulse but shakes her head every time, and you feel a sense of disappointment overwhelming you. You refuse to give up. He just needs a push.

“Neteyam!” you shout, pressing on his chest in an already familiar rhythm, “Don’t leave me!”

Tears stream down your face as you press your mouth to his, willing him to take in more air. Suddenly, you feel a slight movement underneath you, and when you pull away, Neteyam coughs weakly and takes a small breath through his mouth.

As you notice his chest slowly rising and falling, you let out a cry of happiness, thanking the Great Mother for helping you. You repeat your prayers over and over again, as if in a trance, while holding his hand. Eventually the chaos around you dies down, and everything turns dark.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It takes you a few seconds to adjust your eyes to the bright light. As memories of the previous night appear to you, you jolt up looking for Neteyam, and realize that you had fallen asleep by his side.

His eyes are closed, face peaceful, bandage tightly wrapping his chest. Your heart picks up a beat, as you carefully lean in to check his breathing. When you feel a weak breeze on your skin, you pull away with relief. Your eyes roam around the big marui, finding the rest of his family scattered around, asleep. Even Tsireya’s here, her head resting on Lo’ak’s shoulder. When your gaze meets Neytiri's, you notice the dark circles under her eyes indicating sleeplessness or tears, or both.

Quietly, she walks over to you and kneels down beside her son, cradling his cheek lovingly. You see her eyes glisten, as she then leans in to wrap you in her motherly embrace. A small sob escapes your lips, feeling consumed by her warmth.

“Shh, my child,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears, “Neteyam is strong. Eywa has heard you.”

Your heart fills with gratitude for her words. Despite seeing her son like this, she finds enough strength for the both of you. Together you stay by Neteyam’s side, watching his chest rise and fall with each weak breath.

Eventually, the rest of the family wakes up, one by one checking on Neteyam.

“He will be awake soon,” Ronal confirms her prior reading, earning a grateful look from Jake.

You catch a proud smile settle on her face, as she watches Tsireya carefully switching the old bandages, consumed in her work. You feel infinitely thankful to have Tsireya by your side.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The dynamics between the Sully family changed overnight. You notice how Jake and Neytiri suddenly seem even warmer, holding each other and their kids lovingly, afraid to lose them. Despite guilt eating away at Lo’ak, he feels accepted once embraced by his father. Kiri and Neytiri seem to understand each other without exchanging a word. While you find Tuk clinging herself to you and Tsireya, her newfound admiration for you evident in the way she sought your attention.

When Neytiri and Jake send the kids off to eat and bring something for them too, you protest to stay at the marui with them. The thought of leaving Neteyam’s side even for a moment makes you shudder.

Instead, as advised by Ronal, you start praying to Eywa again.

“Y/N, Eywa has heard you already,” Jake says, putting his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “Take a break, kid.”

“But what if she hasn’t? Ronal said he would be awake soon but he isn’t waking up,” your voice is desperate, “I am scared.”

“This is his battle to fight,” Neytiri adds, her voice low, “He is the first son of Toruk Makto, born to lead clans, to protect. Neteyam was destined to be strong, you have to trust him.”

“He’ll be alright,” Jake pats your back, offering comfort.

You nod, quietly agreeing. There really wasn’t a reason for you to behave like this, with his parents in the room. And they are right. Neteyam always does his best, you just have to be patient.

“Were you with Neteyam yesterday?” Neytiri suddenly asks, curiously observing your face.

“What?” you’re caught off guard. Is she implying the morning of?

“Yesterday, Neteyam disappeared. And when Lo’ak was with Payakan, he told us that you and Neteyam were coming from the East,” she slowly elaborates, as she pieces the bits together.

“Why were you coming from the East?” Jakes fixes his eyes on you, waiting for an explanation.

You avoid looking at any of them, hesitant to respond. You knew for sure that if Neteyam hadn't been lying with a wound in his chest right now, Jake would be already scolding him for venturing outside the village perimeters at night. You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling pressured to tell them. Yikes.

“We went back to my village,” you blurt out, “I didn’t want anyone to know where I was going, but Neteyam caught me sneaking out. He couldn’t convince me to stay, so he just came with me to make sure I was safe.”

The two of them listen to you quietly but you can already see disappointment covering Jake’s face. Neytiri’s expression is unreadable, and you wonder if they’re angry at you for putting their son in danger.

“Look, I know it was risky and stupid but I had to see what remained of my home,” your voice breaks, as you continue to justify yourself, “And the two of us were very cautious. Seriously, we were completely fine -”

“It’s alright, kid,” Jake interrupts you, his gaze softening, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

You nod affirmatively, noticing a small spreading across Neytiri's face. She regards you with approval, as if what you told them has impressed her. It's the same look she gave you when you went hunting together.

“You’re not going to get mad at Neteyam, right?” you ask Jake, knowing how upset Neteyam gets when scolded by his father.

“I couldn’t think of anyone braver and kinder than Neteyam to go with you,” Jake smiles, and you feel relieved.

“Something is different about you. Your spirit,” Neytiri points out.

“I got the answers to my questions from the Great Mother. I feel content,” you nod your head, confirming her words. She hums.

“Y/N, we are very grateful to both you and Tsireya,” Jake’s thanks you sincerely, “You saved my son.”

“Really, like I said, it was mostly her -” you try to oppose but another voice interrupts you.

“Your voice was the thing that kept me alive, Y/N,” it’s so low and husky, weak. Neteyam.

Your heart skips a beat when your eyes catch his golden ones, looking back at you with the already familiar, already addictive warmth. All three of you are suddenly overwhelmed with joy, as you lean in and begin to examine him, holding his face, his hands, his thighs, whatever you can get your hands on.

“You’re awake,” you let out, already feeling tears dwelling in your eyes.

Neytiri beams at her son, squeezing his hand in hers, as if his life depends on it. You give some space for Jake to sit closer to Neteyam.

“I am feeling better, don’t worry about me,” Neteyam forces a smile to calm their unsettling reactions.

“Thank you, Great Mother,” Neytiri says, looking up, and you can hear Jake repeating after her quietly.

Neteyam catches your eye, his own crinkling in the corners. But there’s something playful about his expression, like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

“You scared the hell out of me, Neteyam,” you nag him, and earn back a weak chuckle.

Your blood boils at how angry you suddenly feel. Angry at how careless he was. At how he didn’t listen to you, didn’t trust your instincts. At how now he’s treating his poor parents’ reactions as something funny.

“You think it’s funny?”

“It’s not funny, I’m sorry,” Neteyam shakes his head, as he reaches his hand to you, offering peace, “Mother, father, forgive me please.”

“Glad to see you, son,” Jake pats his head, approvingly.

You can’t remain angry, as you look at his hand outstretched, waiting for yours. Slowly, you move close to him, giving him your hand. He squeezes it with a soft smile. You can’t help but smile back.

“Neteyam!” Tuk’s excited shriek interrupts you, as she runs up to her brother, almost falling onto him.

You laugh at her reaction, as Neteyam struggles to hug her back, and her hands almost choke him around the neck. Lo’ak and Kiri step into the room next, their eyes widening when they see their older brother. Deciding to give them a moment, you step out of the marui with a relieved smile.

When you take a seat by the wall, you feel somebody sit down next to you. You don’t have to check to know that it’s Jake.

“You know, I owe you for the rest of my life for saving Neteyam,” he pauses, then tries to joke, “How many of mine have you saved already? Two?”

“Exactly, two,” giddy, you play along by holding up two fingers, “Came really close to three with Lo’ak a few times but then Neteyam took over.”

“Wow. Either you’re really great, or my children just desperately want to give me a heart attack.”

“You should be happy that I hang around them so often,” you earn a throaty laugh from Jake, before his expression turns serious again.

“But really, Y/N…”

“I know, you don’t have to,” you interrupt him, “I care for your family too. Even if it sounds strange, given my past opinions.”

“Past?” Jake quirks his eyebrow at you, “That trip to your village really turned things around for you, huh?”

“It did,” you nod.

“And I’m guessing that he finally confessed to you?” he catches you off guard with his question.

“Neteyam told you?” you ask. Jake hums, “What did you think?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“Well,” Jake looks into the distance, “I thought it would be great if you returned his feelings.”

“But why? I wasn’t exactly nice to you,” you’re really confused.

“You were okay,” he smirks, finding your reaction amusing, “And kind of made a great point about me.”

“I don’t get it,” you chuckle in disbelief, “So you think I was right to put the blame on you?”

“I do,” he nods his head, “You were just the first one to say it to my face. Even I couldn't do that.”

“But I was wrong,” you shake your head, hoping that he’s only teasing you. Nothing about his expressions hints at that, “You know that the demons would invade our islands sooner or later, right? I heard about what happened with Vitraya Ramunong.”

“Yet, I was the one to lure them here,” he adds.

“I don’t understand. You were protecting your family.”

“I know. But it’s not over.”

You pause, confused, examining his face. Jake looks almost defeated, like he has accepted it, and has been living with it for a long time. You feel your stomach turn, as you recognize the nagging feeling of guilt. Feeling of being at fault. Like you didn’t deserve this life, while others suffered for you.

“You think they will come back for you?” you ask quietly, dreading his answer.

“I know they will,” he meets your eyes, his eyebrows tied inwards, “But I won’t let them hurt anybody else again.”

“What are you going to do?”

Jake doesn’t answer, instead staring off into the distance, deep in his thoughts. You think you know the answer already, everything alludes to your first conversation with him. But you don’t want to say it. Don’t really want to think about it either.

“Y/N, can you come in?” Neytiri interrupts your moment, as she leans against the entrance, “Neteyam wants to see you.”

“Sure,” you stand up. You exchange a knowing look with Jake, and try to push the bad thoughts away before walking in.

As Neytiri rushes her children out of the marui to give you some space, you catch a hushed exchange between Lo’ak and Kiri.

“You’re delusional, Lo’ak.”

“They came for us together, you idiot.”

Neteyam lies in a sit-up position, his back leaning against the wall. He smiles, as you sit next to him, his hand immediately taking yours.

“Missed me?” you tease him. Neteyam rolls his eyes before his lips stretch into a smile.

“Of course I did.”

He pulls you gently towards him, bringing his other hand to your face. You stop breathing in anticipation for his lips to touch yours. Instead, he nuzzles your cheek with his nose.

“What if your family sees?” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Let them.”

You pull away to read his face. He looks tired but his eyes are brighter than ever. A playful smile sneaks onto his face, before he speaks.

“They must know by now anyway. Tuk likes to blabber.”

“Oh, right,” you recall the kiss he gave you on the ship. Both Tsireya and Tuk saw you.

You lean in again, cupping his cheek. Your thumb slowly traces the dark blue stripe on his cheekbone, disappearing into his braids. Neteyam closes his eyes under your touch, and it makes your heart flutter. You kiss him softly, gently. Afraid that if you press your lips against his any harder, he will break into pieces. It doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate, his arms sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer.

Smitten by the taste of his lips, you feel the urge to hold him. You rest your palms on his chest, feeling the bandage touch your skin, and before you can’t register, you involuntarily press against him. Neteyam moans into your lips with a mix of pain and pleasure. Immediately, you pull away, examining the damage. He looks fine.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

“It’s alright, come here,” he opens his arm, encouraging you to sit by his side.

Carefully you nuzzle against his side, his arm draping over your shoulder. The tiredness from your sleepless night and the lack of food, makes you a little dizzy, and as you close your eyes, you eventually doze off.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You shift slightly in your position, hearing hushed whispers next to you. You recognize Jake and Neteyam but it takes you some time to start making out their words. You don’t open your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

“Lo’ak said we won?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Jake’s voice is hesitant.

“So, that man is dead?”

“He is.”

There is a small pause before Jake speaks.

“I’m very proud of you, son.”

“Thank you, dad,” Neteyam’s tone is shy.

“And I think you chose very well,” you can’t see it but you can feel Jake’s eyes pointing at you. Neteyam shakes slightly underneath you, letting out a low chuckle.

“I know, Eywa blessed us.”

“Eywa?” Jake asks, “Oh, that’s good. That’s good.”

Another pause.

“Son, I knew that I would have to talk to you about this one day, yet I am caught off guard,” Jake admits, a hint of fear evident in his voice. You wonder where he's taking this. Maybe you should pretend to wake up to give them privacy?

“Why?”

“Well…” Jake breathes out loudly, “You know that even after getting Eywa’s blessing, you two can still take your time. I mean, there are other things you can do to… give each other pleasure.”

“Dad, please don’t -” you can feel the blood rushing to Neteyam’s face in embarrassment. You hold yourself back from cringing.

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to feel pressured to mate right away. Having kids this young can be too much,” Jake lowers his voice, “I want you to know about the -”

“I know, I know, dad, please stop explaining,” Neteyam pleads, as you silently pray for this conversation to end.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, the guys talk. Like a lot,” Neteyam’s tone turns even more embarrassed, as he admits.

“Alright then,” you hear Jake stand up, “I guess this went better than I imagined.”

“You mean it was supposed to be worse?” Neteyam mumbles underneath his breath. You try your best to force down the giggle forming in your chest.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you look down on the water, soaring high in the sky, you feel heavy-hearted. You hold tighter to Neteyam, looking around at the rest of the Sully’s, each on their ikrans, maintaining similar speed. Your eyes intuitively search for Lo’ak, feeling the most saddened for him to part ways with Tsireya and his soul-brother, Payakan. Even if temporarily.

“Don’t worry, Lo’ak, we will be back until they even get to miss you,” Jake raises his voice for him to hear. Lo’ak doesn’t react.

“Come on, brother, you know she’ll wait for you,” Kiri adds, her voice filled with empathy.

Sully's human friend, Spider, is seated behind Kiri, his small hands tight around her middle. You haven’t particularly taken a liking to him but Neteyam says he is a good friend. Besides, he will play a big role in Jake’s plan.

It wasn’t hard to guess what the plan exactly was. From the second you had your conversation with Jake, you knew that whatever he had been planning in the past few months was now a definite decision in his head. Unlike the rest of his family, you were prepared for the day when he announced that he and his family were leaving the Metkayina clan for the time being. And if the possibility presents, and the Sully’s can return safely, without endangering the clan, then Jake hopes to be welcomed back and stay permanently. Kindly, Tonowari agreed, wishing Eywa to accompany the Great Toruk Makto in his pursuit.

There wasn’t much arguing from his family, when they first found out. Of course, they were upset to leave yet another home behind, but they trusted this to be the best solution. Even Lo’ak, who was the most heartbroken by this, eventually gave up on protesting. Wherever the family goes, he has to follow.

Their human friend had a tracker in his mask. And knowing that he now joined the Sully’s, Jake guessed that it wouldn’t be long until he gets attacked again. So his plan was to make a demonstrative exit, flying away from the water, over the uninhabited, wild jungles of Pandora, until somewhere along the way, he would remove and drop the tracker. You would continue your journey, until completely hidden from the sky people, and live for a little while by yourselves. No communications with the human-friends from the labs. No interactions with other clans. Just the family. And, if everything goes according to plan, Jake hopes to return back to Metkayina, where his children felt accepted.

“Just think about it, brother. By the time we return, you will be a man. Even the Olo'eyktan will see you in a different light,” Neteyam turns his face to Lo’ak, “You will make no effort to make Tsireya choose you again.”

Despite the words of encouragement, you feel the heaviness hanging over Lo’ak. It must be hard to be patient, leaving behind not only a soul brother you found but also a girl you love.

Despite the words of encouragement, the heaviness of the moment is palpable. You can feel the sadness emanating from everyone, as they all look back on the water, flying on the backs of your ikrans.

Seated behind Neteyam, you hold onto his middle tighter, reminding yourself of how lucky you were to be taken with him. You nuzzle your face into his back, seeking comfort. Neteyam stretches his arm, patting you on the thigh.

"I see you," he says, loud enough for only you to hear. A rush of warmth spreads through your body, knowing that he truly does see you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 1

wow, can’t believe this is it. also, can’t comprehend how other writers do this, it was a journey… i hope you enjoyed reading this, and please don’t forget to reblog and leave some comments <3

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (also tagging some blogs that i think might enjoy it, and some of the authors, whose works i’ve been reading non-stop to keep myself motivated): @fucksnow ; @heaven1oo4 ; @fanboyluvr ; @ngayawneluoer ; @aquila-de-l-ocean ; @aoteyam ; @moonpetrichors-blog ; @vinnieswife ; @eywascall ; @lxvvvllyy ; @iloveavatar ; @neteyamdarling ; @gloryy-vs ; @girasollake ; @mayhemories ; @suuuupernovaaa ; @love-chx ; @the-demon-soul ; @cosmictheo ; @victoirey ; @your-averagewriter ; @starkeysmoon ; @openpandorabox ; @urlocalfeiner ; @neteyams-tsahik ; @angelltheninth ; @sweetsbfreex ; @forever–darling ; @arachine ; @nyctophicbtch ; @jeojake ; @isabellapaul37 ; @melbee ; @loaksky ; @luvsellie ; @loakism ; @lizziesfirstwife ; @jakesullysbabygirl ; @theseuscmander ; @love13tter

1K notes · View notes

sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago

Text

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2.5k

TW: kissing, pg-13 thoughts, pg-18 thoughts, talk of sex, mentions of death, trauma of death, lots of flowers, mentions of violence, basically anything mentioned in the last chapter is a tw here

A/N: God thank you all for being so fucking patient with me. I really appreciate you all!! I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Spencer’s lips were on your shoulder as he tightened his grip on you. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist, your back against his chest. You grumbled something unintelligible, but Spencer just hummed in response, kissing your bare shoulder again.

“What are we going to do with you Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He laughed quietly, his voice still gravely since he also just woke up.

Mornings with Spencer always went like this. The two of you had been living together for over a month now, and you couldn’t be happier. Waking up next to the love of your life had major benefits.

The first was morning sex. Waking up to Spencer kissing your neck, and your chest, and lips. Lazily breathing together, moving with one another. Feeling as his chest rose and fell while you riled him up and teased him endlessly. It was incredible. People seemed to notice your mood change when you showed up to work too, which definitely had its own set of perks. It was basically the best way to wake up, in your opinion.

Then, there was the fact that you got to wake up and enjoy how gorgeous he was, how beautiful his eyes were. Watching as he finally was able to relax, stress free putty in your hands, melting as you played with his hair and whispered about nothing and everything to him.

But the best part about waking up next to Spence, was that you got to start your days with him, knowing you’d get to come back home after work, sleep beside him, and wake up next to him all over again. It felt surreal at times.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear the gears turning.” Spence muttered, kissing your shoulder this time.

Your body rolled in his arms, causing you to face him, kissing his cheek softly. “How much I love you.”

You felt Spencer freeze for a moment, and you looked up to find his eyes on you.

“You…”

“You don’t have to say it back Spence.” You slid your hand up, and cupped his jaw. “It’s a really big commitment. But you not saying it immediately back doesn’t mean you don’t care about me or don’t love me back. You might just not be ready to say it out lou–”

“Look who’s the one rambling now?” He smirked slightly, making fun of your conversation from the previous night, in which you cut him off with a kiss when he was too busy telling you about something that wasn’t relevant to the task at hand. Spencer followed your model and cut you off with a kiss that you melted into. “I love you too.”

______________________________________________________________

Spencer had been sitting next to your hospital bed for a whole day now. He was exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, covered in blood, and looked like shit–but none of that mattered since you had been in a medically-induced coma since the ambulance brought you to the hospital.

Watching as you coded not one, but twice during the ride to the hospital just continued to confirm Spencer’s greatest fear. Hearing your heartbeat flatline is something he never ever wants to experience again. Ever.

The room was filled with vases of flowers. It made the air sickly sweet, the bitter opposite of how he was feeling, looking down at your sleeping body. But he knows you would have found some of them funny.

There was a vase of red and white camellias, meaning you were the “flame” of someone’s heart, but also adorable. Someone else had sent you declarations of love (red tulips) with hints of declaring war (tansies) throughout. But the one from Spencer was the best.

He had bought you a bouquet of red poppies: meaning consolation. Spencer had gotten you a consolation prize for being on the team and getting stabbed in the stomach. He was hoping your sense of humor would still be intact when you woke up. If not, then they were also from Derek.

Just then, the machine made a sound Spencer hadn’t heard before. Then it made it again. A long beep, loud enough to wake the dead, but somehow not you. A nurse came running in and ushered him out of the room, much to his opposition.

He fought with two different nurses, trying to stay in the room with you. Apparently having three Phds means nothing when they aren’t the right ones to keep him in that room with you. And regardless of his relationship status, he was now stuck back in the waiting room with the other peasants.

“So….”

Spencer looked up at Derek.

“So?”

“How long.”

“Not in the mood right now Derek.”

“No, no. I wanna know–how long have you two been sneakin’ around. I mean, for gods sake Reid, you managed to keep a relationship hidden from some of the best profilers in the country..”

“Well.” He grumbled, looking back at the hallway you were down. “Over a year now–almost two.”

“I’m sorry–two? Two years?.”

Spencer nodded, looking back at Derek.

“Damn.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Now I–”

Whatever Derek was going to say was paused when a nurse walked in, a slight splatter of blood over her scrubs. Both of them turned their attention to her, fearing the worst by the solemn look on her face.

“She’s awake.”

“Holy shit.” Derek mumbled while Spencer let out a breath he had been holding for what felt like millenia.

“But.” The nurse continued. “She can only see one person at a time. And she’s asking for Agent Hotchner.”

Neither of them had realized that the solemn looking section chief was sitting quietly in the corner. Derek and Spencer shared a look with another, while Hotch got up from his chair and followed the nurse down the hallway and into your room.

“Aaron.” You smiled at him, though it was an exhausted smile. “Thought you’d come in with blood on your shirt from having to fight through Spencer and Derek.”

Hotch chuckled and closed the door behind him, sitting down next to you and placing a hand on yours, squeezing it. “The nurse shot them both a look and told them ‘not to try anything’. But I do have to ask, why me.”

You closed your eyes. “I want to give you my recount of what happened while I can still see it.”

“Y/n you do–”

“Hotch I want to. I watched as she stabbed that woman over and over. I watched as that asshole buried her body. I want to tell you what I saw. I want to tell you so that there’s no fucking way either of them will ever see the light of day again.”

Hotch didn’t feel like now was the appropriate time to mention that one of the unsubs was dead. He wanted to hear your memory of the events. He pulled out a mini black notebook, and a pen, from inside his suit jacket pocket. “Whenever you’re ready Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

“Hello everyone, my name is Doctor Y/n Y/l/n, and I am going to be your speaker today. I have been with the BAU for about a month, and they wanted me to come in and speak to you about it—a newbie’s experience.”

That earned you a couple of laughs scattered throughout the crowd. You were asked to come in and speak about what it’s like to join the BAU to anyone interested in becoming profilers. You were not expecting for it to be a full house, but every single seat had someone in it, with overflow huddling around the back of the lecture hall by the walls.

“Now, I’ll try to stay within my time limit since I know standing and listening to someone blab on about themselves is not the ideal situation; however. That’s exactly what you signed up for. So–.”

Spencer stood in the back of the room, watching you speak to all of these students with ease–your peers really. Some of them even older than you, and yet, there you were, confidently smiling and maintaining their interest. It baffled Spencer.

He wished he knew how you were able to captivate so easily, especially since he was completely enamored by you. Derek knew it too—well the whole team really knew, except for you.

The crowds laugh pulled him out of his thoughts as you continued on.

“Right. Now.” You clicked the little clicker and the pictures shifted behind you. “It’s time to get serious. I know I said that already, but I mean it this time.” You smirked a little bit and went onto the next slide.

“The first case I ever worked with the BAU, I was just a temp filling in Elle Greenaway while she was away on some family matter. I was assisting in some case where—”

Spencer’s train of thought got the better of him. All he could do was think about the day you subbed in for Elle. He could remember it like yesterday, even though it was almost forty days ago, not that he was counting. He didn’t remember much of the case though, which was a sore subject that Derek and JJ would tease him about still.

“Does anyone have any questions about the process?” Your voice brought him back to the lecture hall once again.

“How old are you?” Some random guy’s voice rang out amongst the crowd.

“Well.” You laughed. “I’m twenty-two.”

Spencer heard some of the people around murmur, and he chose to ignore whatever they were saying about you, since he wasn’t one to win most fights.

“Why the BAU?”

You paused and bit your cheek, thinking really hard about that question.

“Honestly? I was obsessed with the serial killer documentaries when I was like fifteen/sixteen, and then one of my family members was murdered when I was fourteen. It’s not something I talk about a lot, but I remember my biggest question was why. It’s why I was so obsessed with those documentaries, because I wanted to know why someone felt that they could just take someone away from a family, from the world, and I realized that the only way I could find out the answer was if I did it myself.”

There was a murmuring throughout the crowd once again.

“I don’t think I’ll find the answer any time soon, if at all. But I love being able to protect people. I love being able to know that what I’m doing every day matters–to everyone sure, but mostly to me.”

Spencer, and the rest of the team, had no idea you were connected to such a tragic event at such a young age. You didn’t show the signs of someone who had gone through something like that. But now that he knew, he wanted to find out everything about it, find a way to bing you peace of mind. God, it sounded so stupid. He barely even knew you.

He was lucky you were extraverted in that since he could barely form a sentence around you. God he couldn’t wait to listen to you talk to him on the car ride back to the BAU.

______________________________________________________________

You ended up talking to Spencer last.

One by one you smiled at your friends, reassured them you were feeling better, and told them you would rest.

But then, Spencer was standing in the doorway, and he was looking at you with such pain, with such distraughtness, that tears started to stream out of your eyes–you didn’t notice. But Spencer did. He quickly closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed. Clasping your hand in his, he used his other hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “Sweetheat, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He whispered, trying to provide you with some comfort.

“Did…Did you get my necklace back…”

That was not where Spencer thought this conversation was going. “I–”

“Be-Because I can't ... .Spence I’m so sorry. She just snatched it off of my neck while I was unconscious and, and, and she put it on, and fuck–”

Spencer squeezed your hand, causing your rampage to stop, but the tears pushed on. “We have it.” He said quietly. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever letting anyone else take that necklace okay?”

You nodded and used your other hand to wipe at your cheeks, managing to get rid of the tears.

Spencer kissed your hand again. “It’s at home, right on the kitchen counter. I got it professionally cleaned and everything.”

You nodded and sighed. After a moment of silence, you peered around his frame, taking in all of the flowers and balloons and cards that people had left you.

“wow…This is…”

“A lot?”

You nodded, brows furrowing as you bit the inside of your cheek. Spencer watched as your eyes slowly scanned across the flowers in the room, landing on the bouquet from Derek.

“Is someone trying to declare war on me?” Your laugh was a bit garbled as you swallowed down the rest of your tears, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Morgan thought you would think that was funny.” He whispered, his eyes only focused on you. On the way your lips parted when a particular inhale hurt your chest since they had only taken the catheter out an hour ago, or the way your chest rose and fell, the bruises scattered across were blooming into nasty blues, purples, and greens.

“Who got me poppies?”

Spencer met your eyes, a small cheeky smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm with no mirth behind it, a grin spread widely across your face. “I’m sorry. But did you get me a consolation prize for surviving?”

Spencer nodded, watching as you laughed to yourself, wincing when it would hurt a bit too much. “I love them, Spence.”

“Good.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There were more flowers you couldn’t see, at your home. There was vase upon vase, filled with plenty of flowers for you to decode their accidental (or purposeful) messages, each with their own ‘get well!’ card attached. There was only one bouquet that mattered above the rest, made of completely fake flowers. There were bright red Salvia Splendens, contrasting against the white of the kitchen counter, waiting for you to come home and see them.

Spencer had thought that he should buy you flowers that lasted forever, just as long as his love would, just as long as he would forever be yours.

______________________________________________________________

SSMFM Taglist: @raely-study @multifandoms-assemble @marylovesevanpeters@shqwqrma @niya06 @freefallthoughts @fansformentalydistroyedmen @r-3dlips @xholdinmebackxx @universallyblizzardlove

Reid Taglist: @s1lariathas

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader angst

121 notes · View notes

thewritersaddictions · 10 months ago

Text

Request: (ST) The Adults- Billy Hargrove : Both Ways

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Curvy!Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, 18+, PinV, Spanking, Assplay, cute nicknames, fluffy smut, dirty talk, Billy Hargrove is an ass man. Like he loves a big jiggly ass.

Summary: Billy trusts you enough to talk about how he wouldn't mind letting you peg him.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 2.3k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List p2

Billys hands are bruising your hips as he continues his rapid thrusts. Your knuckles are currently turning white from the death grip you’ve got on the bed frame in front of you. The bedframe hits the wall with each thrust of Billyys hips into yours. Your whole body is glistening with sweat, but Billy won’t let you go until you’re coming around his cock again.

“Look at this pretty ass.” Billy grunts through his teeth as he shifts on his knees. You’re glad that you and Billy finally made it out of each other parents house, and now have a apartment of your own. Dealing with only the furoius couple on the other side of the wall. The awkward meets in the elevator or at your front doors. You moan at his words, and push your ass back to met his thursts. Billys hand lands on your meaty ass with a heavy slap. The echo of the slap bounces on the bedroom walls, and the sensation has your squeezing him tighter and your moans are turning more like screams of ecstasy.

Another hard slap lands on your ass. Your ass jiggles from the force of Billy large hand falling down to your plush skin. Even though Billy hands are a little callussed and rough around the edges he still manages to rub sweet circles of comfort into your raw skin. “I can you squeezin’ me. I know you like it when I… fuck… when I slap this delicious ass baby.” Billy grunts out as his hips thursts into your ass with no mercy. Your eyes squeeze shut and even though your mouth opens nothing comes out as you cum around Billy cock.

Billys thurst start to fall out as he thrusts a few more tiems before filling the condom. He slips out when you fall limp to the soft, and cold mattress. He’s goen for a few moments but it gives you time to gather your breath and self as your role over from your stomach to your back. Billy comes back and its the first time you’ve seen his face since you ended up on your knees and your ass high in the air. In Billys hand he’s got a wet washcloth, he climbs the bed and slots himself betoween your legs. You squirm at the cold feeling between your legs.” Stop fuckin’ squirmin’ so much. Let me be a damn gentleman.” You giggle, and nod your head. The rag gets thrown into the firty laundry bin, and Billy lands down beside you with a plop.

The silence is comfortable, nothing that the two of you can’t deal with. But something is on the tip of your tongue, and the longer the two of you sit in this silence the harder you fear it’s going to be to tell him. “Billy?” You whisper, the only light coming into the room is from the open window. He hums but he sounds like he’s on the edge of sleep, so you just mutter a sweet “I love you.” Into the night air and curl up beside him a throw blanket at the edge of the bed being used at cover for the night.

The two of you can talk tomorrow about what you’d like to add to your sex life.

Except the two of you don't get to talk the next day, the next week or even in the next month. Life all of the sudden decides it’s ready to take the both of you for a ride. Billy gets a solid promotion at his job, leading him to not be home most nights. You on the other hand are thriving in your own workforce, being a nurse at such a young age has both its ups and downs. It’s not till a month later and your scheduled date night you are able to actually talk with your boyfriend and see his beautiful face while he’s not sleeping and drooling all over the pillow.

Billy had called you earlier in the afternoon telling you to come home, get dressed for a night out on the town, and then to go to the only not shitty restaurant in town. Your heels are stead-fast on the hard concrete as you wait for your boyfriend to appear. The waiter brings you to the table, and as you wait you look through the menu. Of course in Billy fashion your thoughts are transplanted the minute that his hands on you. “You look sweetheart.” He murmurs into the shell of your ear and it sends a welcome wave of shivers down your spine.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You comment as he shucks off his dress jacket and sits down in front of you. He smirks and grabs the menu. The rest of the night is amazing. The conversation comes to life after your waiter comes back to take your orders. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” You say, your voice dipping into sadness. Billy looks at you with such adornment, “That may be true, but we still sleep in the same bed.” He offers trying to soften the blow that is your fucked up work schedules.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” You say as you bring the spoon up to your mouth and you can panic behind Billy's eyes. He nods, “Don’t worry it’s nothing bad, at least I don’t think it’s anything bad.” You add, but the fear never leaves the back of Billy's blue eyes. The rest of the dinner is spent talking less, and eating more. Billy picks up the check, and it doesn’t take long before the two of you are jumping into your cars and are driving back home. You both arrive home at the same time, and when you both make it to the front door something slips from Billy's mouth.

“I want you.” His admission makes you grow hot everywhere. You lean up into his space, a hand cupping his cheek softly as your murmur against his lips. “I want you Billy.” His eyes are filled with lust, and he grabs you by the waist to push you into the apartment. Your lips are feverish, and your hands go in random directions. Trying desperately to get every bit of each other in your hands. Billy's hands are attached to your hips pulling you close to his chest and the tent in his pants. He groans into your mouth, and then he’s kicking the door to close it.

The back of your knees hit the side of the couch and Billy lets you fall to your back. “God you’re fuckin’ beautiful.” Your cheeks are already hot with lust, but with Billy's words and voice you grow even hotter. Billy throws his shirt across the apartment, his bare chest has you biting your lips between your teeth. With such a long wait Billy doesn’t have too much patience left before he’s falling to his knees between your legs bunching your skirt around your hips. Damp panties are revealed, and you can feel the cocky smirk written all over your boyfriend's face.

Billy doesn’t let up once his lips are attached to your dripping cunt. You barely manage to get a single breath in as the man between your thighs has his tongue deep in your weeping cunt. Your nails graze his scalp and he groans into your cunt letting you know he likes it. Your legs are open wide making room for the large man, but you can feel your first orgasms rearing its beautiful head. Your spine is lighting up and it's going to come sooner rather than later. Your legs start to shake, and your toes curl under the delicious pressure that is Billy’s tongue. His hands are gripping your thighs so tight that you’re sure you’ll have bruises on his hands there in the morning, but you don’t care as your spine explodes with ecstasy and your head becomes dizzy with over stimulation from Billy's tongue.

It’s only when you start to push Billy away does his tongue and lips leave your sore cunt. Billy’s lips are red, and his eyes are glazed over with lust. His lips are your before you have a chance to catch your breath, and you can taste yourself on him. While the two of you kiss and bite each other's lips Billy's nimble fingers manage to undo the buttons of your dinner blouse leaving you half exposed to him. Between your legs you can feel the raging hard on in his jeans. Billy wraps his arms around your frame lifting you back up into his arms and he shifts slightly and before you know it you're in his lap with his back resting against the firm back of the couch. His hard on pressing perfectly into your wet cunt. You moan at the feeling, and grind into it. Your shirt goes flying and Billy works on your bra as you try to get the damn belt out of the loops of his tight jeans.

Billy ends up having to help you with his belt but you aren’t waiting much longer because once you’ve got the belt on the floor your hands are digging down into his jeans and boxer to pull out his thick cock. His cock is heavy and hot to the touch, and it has you dripping, wetting the jeans. With his leaky cock sitting between the two of you, Billy is quick to get rid of any other materials in the way. Your lips are warm when Billy takes your face delicately in his hands and brings his lips up to meet yours. Billy swipes his tongue over your lower lip, asking for entrance into your wet mouth, and you let him. There’s no battle for dominance cause you already know where the dominance is. Billy pulls you closer, your clit rubbing ever so slightly over the leaky head of his cock. You both moan into each other mouths, and Billys' hands roam all over your back.

Your hips are thrust up, and then your ass is groped by your boyfriend. The edge of the couch burns your skin just a little. Your breasts press into the couch cushion, but nothing feels better than the way his cock seethes into your wet cunt. The sounds echo in the living room. You can’t look at Billy, not with how his hand has your head pushed into the cushion. Your feet dangle off the side as Billy thrusts start slow, and then he rapidly picks up speed. Skin slapping and the wet noises are making your head so clouded with lust.

Your breath is taken away when Billy’s thrust picks up speed. “Fuck!’ Billy groans out with pleasure as he continues to fuck you at an unforgiving pace. Nothing else mattress besides the feeling of his hands on your hips and the way his hip bones meet yours. His fingers are digging into the plush flesh around your hips. Your hips rock back, Billy’s hand moves from your hip to your back, pressing your spine down. With this new position, everything feels better. It feels like Billy is ripping you apart, and that feeling is completely altered.

You feel the smallest press of his thumb. “Oh!” You shriek, The longer Billy’s thumb presses into your hole, the more everything feels like your body is on fire. “You like that, don’t you?” Billy asks as you feel cold wetness fall to your hot flesh. The two of you had never talked about assplay before, but the more Billy pressed his thumb into your aching hole, the more you couldn’t give a shit. His thrusts haven’t lost their power, so you let him continue to play with your body however he sees fit. You feel your orgasms start to build up. Your spine is hot, and the bubble boiling over the edge before exploding. Your legs are coated in your slick, and Billy isn’t far behind you with hit hips snapping into yours. Billy grunts his hold on you, getting tighter by the second. He finishes deep inside of you, watching it come pouring out when he pulls out with a hiss from your lips.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you just yet,” Billy says with a promise. He picks you up gently and walks the both of you towards your bedroom. He places you on top of the mattress with ease, and then he’s on top of you. Billy’s long blonde hair tickles your hot skin, but his kisses cool it. Your arms are hanging lazily over his shoulders. Your lips are pressed together for what feels like forever, but then Billy is slipping back into your wet hole. You hum with satisfaction and moan when his long rough fingers come down to play with your clit. “FUCK!” You scream, and your head rolls back into the pillow. “That’s it, good girl.” He mutters into the hot air; your blunt nails fall down his back, leaving red marks in their wake, but Billy doesn’t care he’ll wear them with pride all over town.

Your hand holds onto Billy’s ass, keeping his short but fast thrust close to you. Skin slaps, and you love the sound as your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his ass. You aren’t sure why you do it, but your hand lifts, and you slap the flesh of his ass. Billy’s thrust pauses his eyes are unreadable. But there’s a tinge of red filtering onto his features. No words are spoken between the two of you, but when you slap his ass again, you feel his thrust pick up in speed and his cock twitch in your cunt. “Oh fuck, Billy,” You mutter biting hard down on your lip. With every slap, his thrusts are harder, and he feels thicker in your tight hole.

His grunts sound like heaven to your ears, and when he rests his head on your shoulder, you know you’ve found something that this rugged man loves. “Say it, Billy.” “Say what?” He grunts, “Say you like when I slap your ass.” You demand even though your breath is ragged and your head falls back into the pillows. “Say it, please.” You beg him, and with one powerful thrust, Billy is telling you. “Yeah, I like it, baby, I like when you slap my ass. It makes me so hard, baby. Fuck you’re gonna kill me.” He mutters between the soft skin of your shoulder and neck.

Completed on: 02/13/24

Posted on: 02/17/24

The Adults-

121 notes · View notes