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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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I was thinking about Danny talking about Dan to the Justice League and all it would take would be a little slip of the tongue for Danny's "he's my evil future self" to be heard as "he's my evil future son." Because it's one thing to have futures where You turn evil, but another thing to have futures where your family members, your KIDS, turn evil.

Phantom was new to the Justice League team. He had been inducted only three months ago and could be seen coming and going at odd hours. No one really knew much about him.

Phantom was recommended by Wonder Woman during the last selection. Apparently, she knew him due to a mutual acquaintance, a woman named Pandora, who had asked the princess to meet the boy—teenager? Man? It was hard to know what to call him because his physical appearance was that of a youth when he was immortal. She rarely nominated anyone for membership, but the person was precious to the team when she did.

And the ghost was.

Although he needed some formal training, Phantom had an excellent grasp of his powers and the cleverness to pull off moves with them, which Batman even praised. Many of the members adored Phantom's willingness to take on any role in a team.

He never complained about letting someone else take the lead, followed orders without much trouble, blended well with anyone as a teammate, and, most of all, had compassion for civilians. Phantom was often the hero who lingered after a battle to help clean up and provide relief aid.

Civilians adored him, and his fans were growing in numbers.

Despite all of this, Phantom wasn't really close with anyone. The ghost rarely lingered after his missions or monitor duty. He flew in, kept to himself, and left out once he was done.

Phantom never started or helped the conversation progress if it was not mission-related. He wasn't as bad as Batman, but he made it hard to connect to him. Diana assured everyone it wasn't because Phantom did not like them—he was only shy.

It was hard to put the being who single-handedly held off Superman the last time he was mind-controlled next to the word shy. Yet they've seen it.

They saw him nervously play with his gloves as someone spoke to him, struggled to think of what to say in conversations, and even ducked his head when he got too anxious.

It was like whiplash to see the ghost go from a shy, nervous teenager to the one that stopped and held Superman in a taekwondo hold until Batman could stab the needle to get him free of mind control.

Then, that same powerful fighter drags himself to the crowd and the smocking city, ready to assist in any way.

Despite being exhausted and covered in wounds, Phantom helped the crew in charge of clearing the debris by lifting heavy objects and scanning the building for people needing medical attention.

Phantom had been more than willing to follow emergency services' commands, personally thanking the EMTs and firefighters once the chaos was over. When a little boy asked for a photo, Phantom told him they could take one when everything settled.

No one expected the ghost to keep to his word, finding the boy and his mother later at a hospital for that photo. He has been awfully apologetic that the camera could only catch a blurry outline of him with his glowing green eyes.

The little boy hadn't stopped grinning despite suffering a broken leg.

He was literally the sweetest little hero—Bruce had to remind himself that he was not an actual child and was, in fact, thousands of years old whenever he saw the ghost fidgeting with something while on monitor duty.

That's why, the day Phantom threw himself into one of the lounges couches with a distressed sigh, everyone in the area surrounded him.

"Everything alright, Phantom?" Asked Oliver as the ghost's glow flickered in and out of his usual glow.

The immortal did not remove his hands from his face but nodded. His glow lowered again as if reacting to his lie.

The heroes gave each other loaded looks before Diana stepped forward. "You seemed troubled, dear friend. Are you willing to allow us to lead an ear to your woes?"

"Dan is just giving me trouble," Phantom mumbled, his words muffled by his hands.

Wonder glanced at the others, but when they shrugged in confusion, she sat next to the teenager. Placing one supporting hand on his shoulder, she rubbed it gently and leaned towards him. "Who is Dan?"

"Me."

Barry blinks. "You?"

"Yeah, the evil me of the future."

Phantom becoming evil? That was inconceivable.

"Did something happen to make you think you're going evil?" Barry asks gently, taking the other open seat on Phantom's left. He places a warm hand on Phantom's hunched-over back and is violently reminded of how tiny the boy must have been when he died.

It breaks his heart. He's smaller than Wally.

"The ancient of Time showed me that he destroyed the world. I helped create him, so I had to be the one to stop him. For the good of the world."

Diana sucks in a gasp, making Oliver, Hal, Barry, and Dinah weary at once. She made the hand motion, signaling that she would explain later, making the other heroes nod. "I know you may blame yourself, but that was merely a warning from the gods. You still have time to change the outcome."

Phantom glances up from behind his fingers. "You really think so?"

"Yes, of course."

The ghost offers everyone a small smile before vanishing from sight. There are gasps and a desperate cry for his name, but eventually, they realize the ghost has left.

"What was that about?" Hal asks after a moment.

Wonder Woman stands, striding over to the large windows of the watch tower. Her eyes turn to the brightest star visible with a small, sad smile. "Clockwork is the name of the ancient- one of the gods- that controls time. He rarely has champions, but when he does, he often gives them glances of their future. Many claim it's more of a curse than a blessing, for they often see the worse of what is to become."

Dinah straightens. "You're saying Phantom really will go evil?"

"No." Diana closes her eyes. "Ghosts are formed in three ways. The first is death. Someone or something dies, and they are formed from the souls getting attached to ectoplasm. The second is that they are bestowed a duty and are created to keep that duty alive. It often governs a part of our reality- space, dreams, wishes, and even plants. The last is the least common due to how rare it is for ghosts to have powerful enough cores. It is to be born from a stronger ghost, taking pieces of their core and growing into their own person."

Diana turns back to the confused-looking heroes to deliver her blow. "Phantom said it was himself that turned evil, but referred to himself as "Dan". Ghosts do not change their names, for their names are part of what holds their cores together. This means Dan is not him but came from him. His son will grow to be evil, and Phantom will likely have to put him down per Clockwork's instructions for the good of the world."

Hal bites out a curse. "That's sick. How could the time god ask Phantom to kill his own kid? Even if he is evil, Phantom doesn't deserve to have that duty placed on his shoulders. He's just a kid."

"But he isn't," Barry sighs. "Phantom is older than ancient Egypt. He just looks like a kid."

"It does not matter." Wonder Woman declares. "Clockwork's warnings can be overturned. We just need to help Dan off the road of darkness while he is still young."

They call for a Justice League meeting, one that only includes the original team that founded the league, to discuss a strategy plan. At first, some want to change the meeting to discuss how to put down Dan, wondering if being Phantom's son made him just as powerful before Batman stands up.

Bruce does not like the idea that the boy will end up destroying the world, but he is the most outspoken about Dan's innocence in the present day. His scorching words make a few ashamed of themselves for giving up on saving the boy before even meeting him.

The meeting drags on for hours until they eventually agree that they will monitor the child. If they realize he is too far gone to save, they will be the ones to end him. Phantom did not deserve to be the killer.

Clark asked Phantom to bring Dan around and introduce him. They dress the indentation as a league-wide party for the member's family (those in the know). The ghost looked spooked before he agreed to bring his child to meet the team.

A week later, every hero smiles politely at the six-foot-tall man with flaming hair who introduces himself as Dan. He's as bulky as Bane, and his low, dark voice echoes through the room. It's comedic compared to the cracking voice of his father, who has to flout to make them the same height.

As soon as the pair of ghosts fly away to speak to Supergirl and Robin, Barry grabs Bruce's cape. "That's a full-grown man."

"I know"

"Bats, that man is built like a brick house. "

"Yes"

"I thought Phantom said he was three? How in the Speed force is that man three?"

"It seems ghosts age differently. Or they are formed to take on the age they desire. I need to do research."

While the surrounding founding members whisper to each other, more heroes arrive at the makeshift party, some in their costumes and some in their civilian identities.

There are various reactions to Dan. A few consider him Phantom's father or brother, but both ghosts quickly make faces. Phantom reminds someone no less than five times that Dan is his future self.

Wonder Woman has to follow the pair whispering to confuse members about the cultural differences between ghosts and children. She doesn't have to explain that to the magic users or those who have worked with ghosts before.

There were a few who had vastly different reactions.

The members of Young Justice, including Secret, all backed up the claims that ghosts did not change their names and were treating Dan as a Phantom's son without blinking an eye.

John Constantine looked at Dan and cooed. "Aw, a baby core. How old is he?"

Phantom cracks a smile while Dan scoffs. "Three"

"Adorable." He raised his flask in salute, "He's powerful. You must be so proud."

Phantom's smile becomes strained. "Thank you."

Across the room, the founding members swear they will save Dan no matter what, as the larger ghost rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #misunderstandings #The cinnamon roll's son #Danny is the office (Justice Leauge) sweet heart #They think Dan is destined to destroy the world #So they will baby this full grown man to teach him right from wrong #Dan's core is only three years in that time 's earth #So he does register as a BABY GHOST #Part 1

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chrisdr3 · 6 months

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Let's just sleep ~ DR3

Fluff

Summary: Y/N somehow manages to sleep literally anywhere and no one can stop her, even if it's Daniel's home race.

Everyone knowing you knows that you can sleep everywhere. Literally. You can sleep anywhere that's comfy enough for you and noise doesn't affect you at all. And the best part is that Daniel doesn't mind. He always finds you sleeping in weird "comfy" positions and covers you with his jackets and hoodies or takes you to comfier places, but in all of the cases, he lets you sleep. Even in his races.

It was his home race and you went with him, you managed to take the whole week off to be with him and support him. It meant so much to Daniel that you could be there to cheer for him. So much that he was on cloud 9 all the week and his lap times and records increased rapidly, just because of you.

The day of the race, you walked in the paddock holding hands, smiling and giggling to journalists and cameras. Daniel was in a very good mood, his signature smile not leaving his face. He was so excited that he stayed an hour straight signing autographs and merch, taking photos with fans and recieving their gifts.

You finally got in the garage and Daniel changed in his race suit and you were given a headset to listen to the team radio to and from Daniel whilst in the race. You sat on the side, watching Daniel chat with some mechanics and his race engineer, then you watched him do his warm-up and prepare to get in the car.

When they moved the car in the starting line, he kissed you and went with the car. You went in his driver's room, sat in a chair and started watching the race from a TV monitor on the wall. You were listening to the radio messages he was sending, as you were connected to his radio channel.

He was leading the race, blocking Max from overtaking him with everything he's got, his voice filled with happiness as he was talking to the team. He pushed the car nearly to the limit, managing to get 5 seconds ahead of Max.

As he was determined and happy to lead his home race, he started humming a random song. Meanwhile, back in his driver's room, sleep got the best of you. Your eyes started to feel heavy and you gave up. You laid on his massage bed, using his hoodie as a blanket. You drifted off to sleep quickly, his voice a lullaby to your ears.

You were still asleep when the checkered flag was waved, making Daniel the winner of his home race. He got out and hugged his team engineers, friends and family, getting a bit worried as he didn't saw you with them, supposing you were curled up in a weird position in a corner of the garage, sleeping.

He got his trophy, celebrated in the podiums , did the post race interviews quickly, then changed into teamwear and started searching all over the garage for you. After a bit of searching he found you in his driver's room, laying in his massage bed, the headset still in your ears, his hoodie wrapped around you and the TV still open, playing the remaining post race interviews.

He closed the TV, removed the headset and the hoodie form your sleeping figure and took you in his arms, laying down in the couch with you and cuddling your warm body, whilst completely ignoring his team calls and post race duties, drifting off to sleep, exhausted from pushing himself to the edge.

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #formula one #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo f1

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bellrose · 19 days

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A Kindness

Summary: Your brother has been lost to the flames at Rook’s Rest and the anxious whispers of the Court do not give any consolation. However, the words of a knight in green do. How you wish you could give him a kindness in return.

Gwayne Hightower x female reader

Warnings: Angst. Loss of a family member. Descriptions of injuries by dragon fire

Word count: 2.615

The host had returned to Kings Landing with a fanfare akin to a funeral march.

The flies buzzing like bees amongst the rotten flesh of Meleys a song for the dead. Vhagar had been there on the battlefield, the King himself fallen from the sky, and the hope you held close to your heart and in prayer had been a child’s dream.

Your brother isn’t among the men climbing stiffly from their horses. Nor the men carrying the banners with their ragged edges, specks of rusty brown marring the King’s crest. He won’t drink with his fellow brothers in arms, revelling together in their victory until the cups double in their quantity. He will never smile again. A crooked smile, for he had lost a tooth during a tourney right before attaining knighthood.

No, he will never return.

You’d known when Father received the raven and his hands shook to hold the message. The sight of Meleys’ severed head being paraded through the streets a finality. It is an omen, the folks whispered to themselves. For who dares to slay such a formidable creature? Your brother laid rotting like the mighty beast and the hapless mass of fallen soldiers. Overlooked by Sisters guiding them through their final hour, if they were lucky that is.

The dead don’t speak. They wait to be reunited with their families. Or to be lost in a field.

Nameless. Forgotten.

Turned black like coal at the bottom of the hearth they’d whisper. Faces molten into an eternal scream they'd hush behind fans flapping away the noon sun. I heard they fed the remains of those poor boys to one of those beasts, for the sheep had fled. How awful!

There are others who share your grief, who barely leave the Sept or gorge themselves on any rumour that might bring reprieve. The Ladies of the Court give you their pity, their condolences, though it is half-hearted and they refuse to look upon you truly. You do not blame them.

Rumours cannot explain the seven hells that had opened up on those grounds, and with the King’s condition a barely kept secret, they grow less sensical by the day.

Father would know, for he wakes up with a tome in his hand and an age old tale on his tongue. Surely he must know the truth? You wish he would speak to you, but he has thrown himself into his duties and refuses to receive you in his small chambers.

Ladies smile demurely and sip politely on sweet reds. They don’t scream. There are no more tears to cry. You’ve exhausted your grief to the point your eyes feel dry and brittle. Like parchment, and you wonder how long it will take until you, too, shall crumble underneath the dragon’s might.

“Lady Waye says the Queen has shadows underneath her eyes as deep as the night,” Edeva murmurs to your right, low enough that only your ears catch it. “That her whispering has returned tenfold.”

“I think her Queen’s Ladies in waiting should put their grave concerns into action instead of turning to gossiping,” you bite, a bit louder than intended, only it gets lost in the clamour of tinkling glasses and a bard playing the lute.

Edeva has been your companion, a good friend to turn to in the halls of the Keep, and you feel ashamed for pushing her aside. She tries to distract you by pointing out the dish full of lush summer fruits being set upon the table by a servant. However, the sight of their ripe, glossy skins makes you nauseous.

Without announcing your leave, you slide past the gowns and grapes further into the Keep. You have no destination in mind, other than it has to be anywhere but here.

The stairs blur beneath your heavy skirt. Every breath locked high in your throat. You turn a corner, another, the colourful tapestries twirling in your periphery. The stories they tell a mockery. A servant leaps out of your way. Another step of stairs, and then - the sound you keep hidden escapes into a shocked huff when you collide against something solid.

A hand grabs your wrist to steady you, warm through the dark brocade.

It does not take long to recognize who stands before you. The tower spewing flames engraved on the leather doublet telling enough. His ruddy hair brings forth the invitation to a dance, that same hand guiding you over gleaming stone to the cacophony of a summer ball away in the past. Father telling another tale of a tourney. That dreadful day when the Stranger took Queen Aemma and her newborn son, when Prince Daemon drove him to the ground on his black steed.

You will never claim to know him well. Only a flash of red and green through the years when your paths crossed before taking residence in the Red Keep. Like so many faces he is out of your reach, a familiarity, but not an acquaintance.

Ser Gwayne Hightower's face does not bear any scars of Daemon’s lance. These are the nicks and scratches of a different battle.

He had been there. He had stood on the field where your brother met his grisly demise.

“Apologies Ser,” you whisper, voice cracking around the syllables. You retract your hand and slowly bow your head and knees in curtsy.

“The apologies are all mine, my Lady. The halls of the Keep are mighty. I fear my feet get lost in their splendour,” he says, the hint of a smile on his face a tad tight-lipped.

The steps of the seat of the Hightowers can be more daunting, and the structure itself grander than the Red Keep could ever be. You feel there is more to the white lie, a contempt.

There is a horror hidden in the ashes stubbornly clinging to the grooves and fibres of his clothing. His face has been scrubbed clean on the road, but the dirt of travel still sticks in his hairline, a little smudge behind his ear. You imagine you can smell it, even if leather and the natural musk of men try to hide it so. The stench of dragon fire; of burnt flesh and desperation, of loss - and if you cannot smell it you can see it in his eyes.

Gwayne does not possess the doe brown of the Dowager Queen. His eyes shine brighter. Like the precious gems Lady Nelda likes to wear around her neck whenever the occasion arises. On another day they would have been inquisitive. A bit haughty. Now they are exhausted. Duller. Something unsettling swirling in those depths. You are hit with a different kind of familiarity, one of understanding.

“My Lady,” he bows.

The moment is gone. Gwayne averts his gaze to a point further down the hallway and you wish he would look upon you again.

The knight in green has taken but a few steps before you find your voice.

“My brother... Ser, I-”

He halts. The expression on his face is a mystery, though his shoulders stiffen.

“Was he in the company at Rook’s Rest?" he asks lowly.

Your nails bite in the palm of your hands. “Yes. He was.”

Gwayne turns back around. A scrutiny in those dimmed gems when they rove from your balled fists to your face, and you cannot start to guess what he finds there. The despair bottling inside overflows into a torrent.

“The men- They say dragon fire melts the flesh like wax. Turns the bones to dust, to scatter in the storm. That there is nothing left of their prey but soil to grow our gardens.” Something changes in his stance, the dullness receding and it encourages you even more. “Is that what is left of my brother? Dust? We cannot bury what is lost on the wind.”

“I do not know, my Lady.” Gwayne takes another step forward. “I do not know of the fate of your brother. I wish I could give you that amenity, to ease your mind.”

“Does it ease your mind, Ser?” you ask, aware how your tone is rising in pitch. Shrill. “To have witnessed the dragons dance and live to tell the tale?”

And how dare you pose such a question? When it is loud and clear he has witnessed the unspeakable that the fiery beasts left in their wake? But he is here, standing, breathing, and he sees.

“I wish it were that easy,” he answers, wavering before he rightens his shoulders, clenching his jaw. “We need to be brave, my Lady. Be brave for your brother. Be brave and find it on your own, as I cannot give you the solace you seek.”

“It is not solace that I seek. I-”

He cuts you off. “You want answers. You want an elaborate summation of his gruesome faith, is that it?”

Gwayne takes another step forward, closer now, and you have to lift up your chin to follow. At first you believe it is rage that meets you, anger at your accusation. It is helplessness instead.

“Many good men died at the foredoor of Rook’s Rest. The dragons tear off each other’s limbs in the clouds, trampling them all underneath their feet and breath. What folly…”

He drifts off, his attention now on one of the many tapestries adorning the walls. A wry chuckle bursts from his lips. “It seems the many days on the road have disrupted my manners.”

“I fear there is no propriety in grief Ser,” you confess quietly.

Gwayne tilts his head sideways, considering your words, before he smiles once more. A real one this time, still edged in a shared sorrow, but it’s warmer.

“I guess not.”

“I do not know what I seek.”

“Then stop seeking.” His eyes find yours again, and his next words are spoken earnestly, kindly. “Do not tarnish what is the memory of your sibling, my Lady. He would have wished to be remembered whole, for then he cannot be lost to the winds.”

Gwayne grabs your right hand, unfolding the balled fist. His thumb stroking over the indents your nails left behind and turning the palm downward. His lips are warm when they touch your skin, lingering for a moment too long.

“A good day, my Lady.”

“Good day, Ser.”

You watch him go. Steady steps carrying him down the hallway. His words mulling over in your mind and for the first time in the past moon, ever since your brother left the Keep, you feel a peace.

The stone steps underneath the soles of your shoes are still a bit damp, the ground forth uneven where hoofs have trampled and disturbed the earth.

There’s a flurry of activity in the yard. Green with golden dragons on shields and banners, knights gleaming like silver coins rolling on a hardwood table. For a fleeting moment, you expect to see another face, one with a crooked smile who belongs only in your dreams now.

And then you see him.

Dressed in his armour bounding towards his horse, as if he cannot wait long enough to leave. As if Kings Landing is worse than what awaits outside its seven gates. Perhaps it was, or he would rather not delay the inevitable. And what is that? A quick death? No.

Ser Gwayne offered you a kindness with his understanding, and you wish to understand him in return. To offer something steady in a world that is tilting on its axis the longer the war continues.

Deep in the pocket between the fabrics of your skirt, your hand grasps the hidden piece of cloth. The stitches tickle your skin. It steadies you, dousing the nervous thoughts that have been following you all morning.

It’s not a handkerchief. Not in the traditional sense. You found it among the garments in the chest of your quarters. Dark green, almost blue, and the moment you touched it, an idea would not leave you alone.

The needle still feels clumsy at times between your finger tips, as you were never the patient pupil your mother had wished you to be and rather spent your time learning the harp, but the flowers they bore are delicate. Pretty. Refined. White petals with a core of deep orange; the colour of the sun peeking over the horizon. Your Septa would have been proud. Though, she would admonish the purpose behind it.

A kindness. Be brave.

It is that sentiment that moves you forward, past the guards standing sentry near the stairs and interweaving through the crowd filling the yard. His destrier, standing out with its magnificent armour, shining on the morrow, is in the hands of a squire. Gwayne does not see you coming, too busy speaking to the boy. Voice short and clipped.

“Ser Gwayne?”

The squire bows and runs off. Gwayne watches him go for a quick second before his gaze lands on your form. There’s surprise in the way his brows raise, the corner of his mouth turning up just so.

“My Lady,” he says, loosely gripping the reins of his horse. The destrier noses the pauldron at his shoulder. “How may I help you?”

Promise me to return all these men to their families, to come back, but that would be too much to ask and too forward, as if bestowing him with your needlework isn’t daunting enough.

“I sincerely regret not thanking you properly for what you said to me that day,” you state politely.

His head tilts down in understanding. The sun catches the red in his hair like honey. “Your regrets are misplaced. You do not need to thank me.”

“You misunderstand me Ser, I do.” Bolder now, you fish out the embroidered cloth from the hidden place of your dress. “You will be in my prayers, but please take this as a token of good fortune.”

He accepts the cloth mutely, brows rising further and gloved fingers studying the wreath of flowers you stitched along the edges. For a moment you fear the gift is too unbefitting after all, that the warmth that you had felt besides the kiss upon your hand a figment of your imagination. That he will reject it.

He’s quick to crush those doubts, but not quick enough to halt the blush of regret that is slowly blooming on your nape.

“I will cherish this gesture my Lady,” he says, eyes glittering. “But do not trouble yourself with concerns on my behalf, there are much more important matters to ponder.”

“This I cannot promise you Ser,” you answer honestly. “I’ll be awaiting your return.”

“That sight alone might make me forget the pungency these streets carry,” Gwayne parries, a hint of smugness that is purely in jest, and studies the cloth again. “White Lelas... They grow near Goldengrove, do they not?”

“Yes. My late mother used to put them in my crib when I was a mere babe, as my father tells me.” You think of the washed white stone of your grandfathers’ Keep and tall grasses holding a vast array of flowers. Too many to count. “I barely remember what they smell like, but I always thought they were quite charming.”

“Quite indeed,” Gwayne hums, though he is not looking at the cloth anymore. He turns towards his horse, looping it around a buckle on the saddle in a strong knot. The fabric will sway against his leg with every step the steed took. It will be with him when he confronts the enemies of the Crown.

A memory, a constant.

“I hope the day will be upon us soon my Lady,” he says and the kiss on the back of your hand is a farewell.

For now.

Did I purposefully mirror the phrasing of “turned to dust” from Cole's we're-all-going-to die-anyway spiel for possible parallels and continuation purposes? Why, yes. Maybe. It was never my intention to write this anyway but the brainrot is real. Damn you, Freddie!

Thank you for reading

#gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader #hotd fic #hotd #house of the dragon #rose's fics

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theemporium · 5 months

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blue-"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." nico being devastated he’s hurt and just needs to be held by his girlfriend

i made it a bit more emotional hurt than physical! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

29. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

It was bittersweet.

He knew it was coming. The team knew it was coming. The fans knew it was coming. It had been a rough year with messy strategies, tough injuries and bad luck slapping them in the face after the season they had the previous year. It was rough and it weighed down on everyone and it was shattering.

But, deep down, there was this little spark of hope in his chest.

Hope that they could pull through and do the impossible. Hope that they could defy the odds and make it through to the playoffs. Hope that they would click and be the amazing team he knew they could be.

He had so much fucking hope and it was completely washed away the second that final buzzer went, the reality that they had been eliminated finally settling amongst them as they looked at each other on the ice.

But Nico stepped up. He was the captain. He had these boys looking up to him and seeking him out as a pillar of comfort and reassurance. He couldn’t be moping around the locker room, not when he had to take care of his boys first. Not when he had to face the media and drag the interview out as long as he could so the other boys didn’t have to spend too long with them. Not when he had to deal with whatever debrief meetings and logistics the coaches and team wanted to have.

They may have been eliminated but he still had his duties to perform.

He felt like he was running on pure muscle memory by the time he left the Rock, settling behind the wheel of his car with a heavy sigh. His brain was racing with a million different thoughts as he drove home, plaguing him with what if’s and could have been’s. Despite the exhaustion settling in his body, his mind felt far too wired and overwhelming and, fuck, he just wanted it to stop.

And then he walked through the door and saw you cuddled up on the couch, drowning in one of his hoodies and a blanket his mother had gifted you both when you moved in, and the last of his resolve crumbled.

“Hey, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet and soothing as he dropped his bags at the door and quickly made his way towards you. He didn’t even hesitate as he practically draped himself on top of you, burying his face into the fabric of your—his—hoodie.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out because the words had been on the tip of his tongue. They had been lingering in the back of his head since the season had started, had been lingering after every loss and hardship the team and fans had to face.

“Shhh, it’s not your fault, Nico,” you cooed, your arms winding around his body to hold him tight. Because somehow you knew what was going through his head, you knew the way he was spiralling, you just knew him. “None of this is your fault.”

“Just their faces—” he cut himself off with an unpleasant sound, something stuck between a sob and a scoff. Instead, he nuzzled himself closer like he could bury himself between your ribs and stay there forever.

“I know, baby, I know.” Your fingers ran through his hair, your nails lightly scraping along his scalp in an attempt to soothe him. “Last year wasn’t a fluke, okay? This year was the fluke. Next season will be your season, I just know it.”

“You don’t know that,” he murmured, his words twisting the self-deprecating knife lodged in his heart since the season had started going downhill.

“I know everything,” you corrected before lightly tugging on his hair until he lifted his head. You flashed him a soft smile, your hands gently holding his face as your thumb smoothed over the small scar on his cheek. “You’re gonna lead that team to the win you all deserve, Nico. I know that. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He could only muster a small smile.

“And I will happily remind you until you believe in yourself again,” you added before leaning over to peck his lips, feeling the tension in his body finally start to leave for the first time since he entered the apartment.

“I love you,” he murmured when he couldn’t find any other words to capture how he was feeling.

“I love you too, baby.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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fanfiction4sooya · 4 months

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Request: Reader waking up Tiffany on her birthday by going down on her. Thanks🙏

It took me ages, but I am slowly getting back to my old reqs. Thank you for waiting, baby! 💖💖 hope ya'll like it

cw: somnophilia, oral sex, cursing, humping, stablished relantionship, not really proof read, no mommy kink this time for once;

You were planning this little surprise for a few weeks now. You took Tifanny for a little weekend trip for her birthday, only the two of you in a cabin in the woods away from people, her fans, away from job duties, anything that would exhaust her more on such special occasion.

The night before you had a great time; you ate nice food and drank two bottles of wine. It was perfect.

Actually, almost perfect, since you two got so drunk your attempt to have sex went south because you two literally fell asleep naked in each others arms without even begining the act itself.

You woke up first, looking around, your head throbbed a bit but iit was manageable; your eyes scanned the room and there she was. Her ever so perfect hair a bit messy on her face, her eyes closed in a deep slumber, her lips slightly apart. You heart skipped a beat. You smiled, trying to recall the last time you saw her so disheveled.

Slowly you sat down, pulling the covers on the way, smiling again as you remembered the last night failed sex. You two were completely naked. You shivered. The thought of taking her like that went through your mind like a lightning, quickly arousing you.

"Would it be a good present?" You talked to yourself, you little mischievous thought only growing as your neediness grew as well.

Your gaze traveled around her naked form; her perky tits and slightly muscled abdomen, her milky thighs and the little bush of hair on her pretty pussy. Your mouth wattered. The need of drinking her sweet juices while she was in such state of vulnerability made yourself throb.

Slowly you crawled by her knees, lightly pushing her legs apart so she wouldn't notice you just yet; laying on your stomach you bit your lip when you faced her pussy. It looked so pretty from this close you always got a bit shocked.

Positioning yourself closer, you inhaled her scent, whimpering; you put your tongue out, licking just the tip of her hooded clit, that action eliciting goosebumps on your skin and in hers too. You hugged her legs in a lighter way to better angle your face and did it again, this time not only licking but attatching yourself on it to suck.

You watched her stir just a bit, thankfully she was a heavy sleeper and the wine also had a part on the job of keeping her knocked out.

You felt her slit drip a bit of her arousal onto your chin and her nipples get slightly hard, your pussy throbbed in response as you humped the mattress, feeling your own arousal slick through your folds.

Gathering her slick on your tongue you hummed against her core upon tasting that divine flavour, unconsciously closing your eyes in approval. You were so lost in her that you didn't even aknowledged her eyes open and her gaze fixated on your face.

Tiffany bit her lip trying to suppress a moan in order not to startle you. Her body jolted forward when you gave her a particularly hard lick and her hand instinctively found your hair.

"Fuck baby" Her voice sounded hoarse from sleep and you smiled against her sensitive clit, still attached to it as if your life depended on it. "Such a good girl" She caressed your hair, tossing her head back a bit.

She held your head a bit closer, moaning just a little higher; you felt how she was getting wetter by the second, your chin coated in her juices. You closed your eyes, rubbing your tongue on her pussy up and down, not stopping for anything except her command. But she wouldn't stop too, she wouldn't dare to lose that contact. Not when her pretty girl made her feel so good, so satisfied.

"Don't stop b-baby, I'm almost there" Tiff said in a shaky breath, her legs slitghly trembling. "You do me so good, darling" You rolled your eyes upon hearing her say that in that lustful tone.

You lost count of how many minutes you spent sucking her off with your whole might, humping the matress as if you were her little pet in heat.

"I am gonna cum all over your face baby" She held your head in place, forcing your mouth against her core. Cursing, moaning, in the wildest of ways. Her juices gushed in your face and you made sure to collect all of it, your own orgasm hitting you blindly hard.

It took you a while to stop sucking her off, your own dizzy state taking over your body as she praised you again and again, caressing your head.

When you finally stopped what you were doing, she was shaking harder than you ever saw her do it, pulling you for a deep passionate kiss.

"Happy birthday, Tiff" You said a bit out of breath.

"Happy birthday to me, my darling" She answered against your lips, kissing them again.

#gxg smut #snsd smut #snsd tiffany #tiffany x fem reader #tiffany smut

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marutairofficial · 10 months

Text

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#wall mounted exhaust fans #greenhouse exhaust fans #heavy duty exhaust fans

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pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Search & Rescue part 3

Lo’ak x Omatikayan fem reader

Warnings: cursing, angst (some at the very end as well, if you read between the lines) heavy drinking/smoking/drug use, soft dom lo’ak, oral, p in v, choking, biting, praise kink (if you squint), slight voyeurism kink, creampie.

Synopsis: Lo’ak has a bit of a reputation that he’s been trying so hard to break out of. He just needs the right girl to come and rescue him. Looks like he found her tonight.

🔞mdni🔞

It had been exactly a month since you left lo’ak. He had been counting the days miserably. You took this time away from him to focus on yourself. You became a trainer for the younger warriors. You started spending more needed time alone. Reflecting on everything you wanted to accomplish, everything you wanted to do. You were elevating while lo’ak was spiraling out of control.

When you left, he drowned himself in his thoughts. Drinking from sun up to sun down. Isolating himself from everyone he loved. He recently indulged in a new habit. When he visited the lab, as he did often, he found a secret stash of Xanax. He didn’t know what it meant, but he read the effects on the bottle, and that was all he needed. Something to numb him from the pain he was feeling.

He’d tell people he was sick to get out of duties. He’s lied to the people that cared about him just to hide his addictions. The only person who wasn’t buying it was Neteyam.

“Lo’ak? I-I just came by to check on you. No one has seen you for a while. We’re all worried. I’m worried.” Neteyam’s calm voice was muffled through the hut door. Lo’ak laid sprawled out on the cot, looking up at the ceiling as tears ran down his still face. Smoke filled the hut, and empty alcohol bottles piled around him. Neteyam noticed the smoke seeping through the bottom of the door, and that was his last straw.

“Lo’ak! Im coming in, I don’t know what’s going on with y-“ Neteyam spoke as he opened the door, immediately cut off by lo’aks state. Neteyam coughed, fanning the smoke out of his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Neteyam asked in a concerned tone. Walking alittle closer to lo’ak. “You know…I was really trying to reinvent myself for her. Then that bitch came in and ruined everything. Now look at me.” Lo’ak chuckled deliriously, reaching over to grab the alcohol bottle, taking a few gulps before placing it down on the ground lazily.

Neteyam sighed, backing up against the wall before sliding down. “This won’t get her back. You do know that? You’re a drunk mess, lo’ak. You need help. And I’m here for you.” Neteyam confessed, looking around lo’aks dirty hut.

“I-I need her to come save me. So, maybe it will bring her back. I need her, more than words can describe.” He slurred, tears welling in his eyes. And there it was, the pain again. He hated when the drugs wore off, it meant he had to sit with his feelings, and he refused to do that. He reached next to him, grabbing the bottle of Xanax.

“What’s that? Huh? LO’AK!” Neteyam shouted, as lo’ak ignored him. Hurrying to take a handful of the pills, chugging them down with his favorite alcohol. “Something to numb the pain. It’s fine.” Lo’ak strained, wiping his mouth of the access drink running down his chin.

“Oh wow.” Neteyam said in disbelief, almost on the verge of tears as he watched his younger brother drown himself in sorrow. “Y/n CANNOT rescue you from this. And it’s selfish of you to think that she can.”

“Call me what you want, neteyam. She likes to save, and I like to be saved. So I’m just playing my part. I need her back. You don’t understand.” Lo’ak spoke in an exhausted tone. He was dying slowly. He was too sad to eat, drink, shower. His eyes were low and heavy, and he was getting skinnier by the day.

“You always show her your worst. How about you give her your best for once!” Neteyam shouted, face screwed in confusion. “So that I know it’s real…” lo’ak whispered, but loud enough for Neteyam to hear. “All these girls want to fuck me for one reason and one reason only.” He chuckled, taking another swig of alcohol.

“And what’s that, lo’ak?” Neteyam sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Lo’ak’s head snapped to Neteyam, eyes as wide as they could be in his state.

“Because they can’t get to you…” lo’ak muttered, finally sitting up on the side of the bed lazily. Neteyams eyes widened, hand dropping to his side. “What?”

“You don’t get it. You’re the best warrior here, next in line after dad…and then there’s me. You’re taken already. So who’s the next best thing?” Lo’ak started, and neteyams facial expression softened.

“Everytime they see me for who i am…they leave me. But y/n…she didn’t. She was willing to help me until that bitch ruined it. She was different. She didn’t want you, or another warrior. She wanted me, and I fucked it up. I’ll always come second to you, and I get that. But it wasn’t like that with y/n. She saw me, and stayed.”

“Lo’ak i didn’t know you felt that way. I-I just thought-“ Neteyam stuttered before being cut off. “You thought that I’ve been just fucking girls for the fun of it. Which is partly true, but not all.” Lo’ak sighed, throwing his head down into his hands, rubbing through his hair in frustration.

“All I’m doing is searching for a mate. I can admit that the way I’m going about it is reckless but….that’s the end goal.” Lo’ak finally admitted. Neteyam was speechless. He had no idea that lo’ak felt 2nd best to him. And he felt like a terrible brother for not realizing his pain sooner.

“Lo’ak i-I’m sorry. I had no idea that you felt this way. You never talk about this kind of stuff with me. But you can. I’m always here to listen. And I’ll do anything in my power to help you out of this mess.” Neteyam spoke calmly. Lo’ak’s ears shot up before his head did.

“Anything?” Lo’ak asked, eyebrow cocked as a smirk crept across his face. Neteyams eyes narrowed, eyeing his brother up and down all knowingly.

You had been training the young warriors in the common area all afternoon, and the sun was setting. You enjoyed it, and you were glad that Jake trusted you enough to take over since his youngest son had been MIA.

“y/n! I think I broke my bowwww!” Sarzí, your little sister, whined. Holding her bow up to you with teary eyes. You took it from her gently, examining the broken bow before you smiled.

“You know…I’ve broken so many bows when I was training?” You spoke softly, bending down to be eye level with the young girl.

“R-Really?” Sarzí sniffled, wiping her teary eyes with the back of her hand. You smiled, looking down at the broken bow.

“Oh yes! Jake would make me a new one every week. And mines were usually broken in half. Yours just needs alittle fixing.” You started, bringing her hands away from her eyes so that you could wipe her tears for her.

“How about you take mine. What do you say to that, huh?” You smiled, taking the bow from around your body. You little sisters eyes lit up, a bright smile creeping across her face.

“No way! Everyone is going to be soooo jealous!” She smiled, taking the bow out of your hands gently. “Fuck yeah they are!” You laughed, holding your hand up to give your sister a high five.“Fuck yeah!” Sarzí shouted, holding her hand up and your eyes went wide, looking around the common area.

“No! d-don’t say that you little twerp! Mom’s gonna kill me!” You laughed tickling Sarzí. She laughed as well before you pulled her in for a hug.

“Now go, ok? I’m ending the session soon, so we’ll leave in a few.” You smiled, pointing to the other warriors who were practicing. Your sister looked at you, and then slightly behind you, signaling that it was someone there.

“Teyam!” Your sister shouted in excitement, running past you to Neteyam. He swung her around a few times before picking her up in his arms.

“Sarzí! My favorite little warrior!” He chuckled, walking closer to you with your sister in his arm. You smiled at the interaction, meeting him halfway.“Neteyam.” You spoke firmly with a smile, signing a greeting to him as he did the same.

“Hey, do you mind if I steal your big sister for a quick second?” Neteyam asked Sarzí with a smile, placing her down on the ground. She nodded before looking up at you with a smile.

“Go ahead, I’ll come get you soon.” You chuckled before your sister skipped off to the other kids in the distance.

“How are you?” Neteyam asked, motioning for you to walk with him. “I’m doing well…better.” You nodded. You hesitated but the feelings you had for lo’ak were so strong, you just had to know:

“How’s lo’ak? Is he ok? I haven’t seen him in a while. Not that I’m looking for him, but I usually see him around.” You rambled before Neteyam stopped you.

“Y/n…” he sighed before stopping all movement, shifting to stand infront of you. His demeanor had changed to that of concern and fear.

“He’s not doing well. At all.” Neteyam shook his head, fiddling with his fingers anxiously. A confused look wiped across your face. Almost frightened for what Neteyam meant.

“He’s…on heavy drugs y/n.” Neteyam whispered the last part. Your eyes widened, and your stomach dropped to your feet. A wave of sadness washed across you quickly.

“He won’t leave his hut, and it’s a fucking mess. Alcohol bottles, pills bottles everywhere. He won’t eat, bathe, drink anything other than alcohol. He’s smoking more than usual and I just…I don’t know what to do.” He rambled, running his hands through his hair in frustration.“Do your parents know?” You asked.

“Hell no, and I don’t plan on telling them. They’d kill him.” he explained. You sighed, trying your best to hold back tears. It pained you to know that this was your fault, and that you didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself before you left that morning.

“He wanted me to tell you that he loves you, and that he wishes things could be different. He knew that you wouldn’t want to see him, so I came here to deliver that message.” He smiled weakly with nothing but sadness behind his eyes.

“Where is he? At his hut?” You asked. Neteyam nodded. “He’s been in there for a month.” He sighed. “Can you finish my training session with the children, and walk Sarzí home? Please? I’ll go talk to him.” You asked softly. Neteyam smiled.

“Of course. Please help my brother. He needs you.” Neteyam spoke lowly, caressing your shoulder before walking off in the direction of the children.

The walk to his hut was short yet nerve racking. This would be the first time you’d seen him since you left him. Something you swore you wouldn’t do, but the situation that transpired left you no choice.

You got to his hut door, and the smoke immediately filled your lungs. It was clear that he had been getting high all day as the smoke seeped out from under the door. You closed you eyes, bracing yourself for the worst but hoping for the best before you opened the door.

Smoke poured out of his hut causing you to choke before waving the smoke away. You were met with a whimpering/moaning lo’ak, curled up in a ball on his bed. He was shaking aggressively, and sweating. You let the room air out quickly before closing the door behind you.

“Lo’ak?” You muttered, walking closer to him. His pain and agony filled the room. You kneeled down beside him. You hesitated but finally ran your hand across his bicep. You flipped him around, and his eyes were closed, still whimpering in agony as he shook violently.

“LO’AK! LO’AK WAKE UP, BABY! PLEASE!”

You shouted, smacking his damp cheek a few times. With a loud gasp, he woke up. His eyes were wide and his breathing was heavy. He immediately wailed, tears running down his face as he screamed in pain.“Its alright, it’s alright! I’m here with you now!” Your voice was shaky as you wrapped him in your arms.

“I-im so sorry y/n! I’m so so sorry! Please don’t leave me! Please!” He whimpered, laying his head on your chest. You caressed the back of his head, swaying him back and forth in your arms.

“I’m not leaving! I’m here! Look at me!” You exclaimed, holding either sides of his head to get him to look at you. Your eyes locked with his desperate ones. “I’m here. I’m sorry for leaving you before, I just needed time. But I’m here!” You smiled at him lightheartedly. He sniffled, wiping his tears quickly. You swiftly walked to his drawer, grabbing a dry cloth before making your way back over to him. You wiped his face and chest as he stared at you.

“You wanna tell me what’s been going on? I talked to your brother, and he told me some shit I didn’t want to hear.” You glared at him, eyebrow cocked as you awaited an answer, still wiping his soaking wet body.

“I-ive been getting high and drinking more.” His voice was shaky, his teeth chattering against each other as he whimpered. Your eyes wandered to the ground beneath you, dozens of empty pill bottles laid out. Your head snapped back to him, with an all-knowing glare on your face.

“And I’m guessing you’re having withdrawals from….the weed right?” You asked sarcastically. He sighed, rolling his eyes as his body shook violently.“Xanax…o-only for the pain. It’s helps me.” He whined, wiggling under the dry towel.

“This is helping you? Look at you. You were a mess when I found you and you’re even worse now.” You chuckled, lightening the mood. He managed to snicker even throughout his pain.

“Yeah yeah. Because I need you, don’t you get it? The days we were together were the best. I didn’t even touch any alcohol, I was too drunk off of you.” He explained. You blushed, moving down to his legs with the cloth.

“As much as you love me, I cannot be your only motivation, your only source of happiness. It’s not healthy for you or me.” You confessed, glancing up at him before continuing to dry him off.

“But you ARE truly my only source of happiness. I don’t know what I’d do without you…as you can see. Just look at me. I know it’s not healthy, and I don’t want to put any pressure on you. But I can’t help the way I feel about you anymore. I refuse.” He confessed. You sighed, hesitating before speaking.

“I love you, lo’ak. Always will. And I’ll do anything to help you out of this. I hate seeing you like this.” You strained, on the verge of tears. He sat up slowly, caressing your cheek with his shaky hands. You nuzzled your head into his embrace, grabbing the back of his hand.

“It’s all my fault. And I’m a fucking idiot for letting myself get to this point. I’m a mess, and I understand if you’re done trying to rescue me. It’s not your job to do this.” He shook his head, rubbing his thumb across your cheek to wipe your tears.

“It is my job….as your girlfriend. I’m by your side no matter what. I’m not leaving you again.” You smiled, grabbing his free hand in yours as you two stared into each others eyes. You pulled him in for a well needed hug, and he obliged. Despite lo’aks state, your hug stopped his shaking momentarily. It was warm, and comforting until you realized he hadn’t bathed in a couple of weeks.

“Baby, when’s the last time you touched water?” You asked, voice muffled in his chest. His eyes widened, realizing that he’d made, yet another, terrible impression on you. “I-uhh…” he stuttered, looking around the room in embarrassment before letting you go.

“What am I going to do with you? Huh?” You chuckled, standing to your feet before you reached out for his hand. He smiled sarcastically, taking your hand to stand to his feet. You held his waist to keep him steady.

“I’ll be good from now on, I promise.” He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your neck, walking out of the hut with you.

You were sitting on the shore next to the stream. You were watching after lo’ak as he bathed in the river. He seemed to stop shaking once he hit the water, and he’d been in there for the last 20 minutes.

“You doing ok over there?” You asked, watching him grab water to throw on his chest.“Yeah, I’m feeling alittle better. I could still use a Xanax though.” He confessed, laughing to himself.

“Yeah right. Not on my watch. All of that shit comes out of your hut TO-MOR-ROW! No more drugs or drinking for a while.” You commanded.

“Damn, no weed either?” He asked walking closer to the waterfall, letting it run over his hands.

“NO WEED EITHER!” You shouted, glaring at him with a pointed finger. He hissed, walking into the waterfall to let it run over his entire body. You watched him intently, there was nothing else you could do.

He stood directly under the stream, letting it run down his hair and face. He’d occasionally run his hands over his face and through his hair, flexing his biceps and abs. There was a point where he reached down to grab his cock, stroking it softly as the water ran over it. Innocent to him but a turn on for you.

“Like what you see?” He spoke softly, completely breaking you out of your trance. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t.” You smirked, locking eyes with him.

“Then bring your pretty ass over here. I’ve been missing you like crazy.” He spoke lowly, so incredibly desperate for you. He ran his large hand down his body again, grabbing his cock to jerk it slowly. He stared in your eyes the entire time, eyes full of lust. As if he was ready to devour you whole. Your body tensed up, and your breathing hitched. He noticed a change in you immediately, and chuckled out loud.

“Just come bathe with me. That’s all.” He reassured, contradicting himself with his hand still stroking his cock. From the base, all the way to the tip, smearing his oozing precum.

“Mhmm, just bathing right?” You asked, eyebrow cocked as you stood to your feet, untying your cloths to let them drop to the ground. He eyed you up and down intently, keeping the same rhythm on his aching cock.

“Sure. Just come here.” He motioned with his finger, and you quickly obliged. Walking into the water towards him until you two were finally face to face. Your chest pressed against his defined abs as he looked down at you. He jerked his cock in the direction of your core, his swollen tip lightly pressing against your clit with every thrust into his hand.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” He whispered “Oh yeah?” You asked, running your dainty hands up his chest.“Yeah. I haven’t had sex with any other girl since you left me. My body yerns for you and ONLY you now. No one can satisfy me the way that you do. Mentally, physically….emotionally. My body needs you, I need you.” He spoke low and sensual, placing his large hand on the side of your neck.

“I’m not fucking you, lo’ak.” You spoke in your melodic tone, caressing his strong arms as you eyed his abs and chest. He smirked, knowing that you two were way past that. You leaned in, kissing his damp chest, leaving small hickeys. He groaned, letting his cock go to reach around, grabbing your plump ass in his large hands.

You slowly slid down in his embrace, submerging yourself into the water until you were chin deep. Your hair was soaked from the waterfall, loose curls cascading down the sides of your head and into the water. You stared up at him with your lustful eyes as you licked his swollen tip.

“Oh! my fucking- stop looking at me like that.” He moaned, watching you explore his cock; licking every ridge, every vein. Sucking the precum out of his tip gently. When you heard those words he spoke, your eye contact darted up to his again.

You stiffened your tongue, gently flapping it against his hole, making him quiver under your embrace. “P-Please don’t tease me. I can’t take that right now.” He whimpered, caressing the back of your head. Seeing as he’d been through enough the past few weeks, you decided to give him what he wanted.

You grabbed the base to keep him steady in the water. Without warning, you took all of him in your mouth until the tip of your nose pressed against his pelvis. He whined loudly fisting your long hair, using it as leverage to thrust into your mouth softly.

You met his thrusts, bobbing your head on his shaft. You swirled your tongue around the entirety of his length, making him pout down at you, eyebrows scrunched together as he let out soft whimpers.

“Fuuuck! P-Please baby!” He cried, legs shaking from his in coming orgasm. It was no secret that lo’ak was a sex-a-holic, and he hadn’t released any tension since the day you left him. This would be the first time he had a proper release in an entire month, which was all new to him. So this one was going to be intense.

You sucked him one last time before backing up with a loud pop. You replaced your mouth with your dainty hand, pumping him at a steady pace. “Please what?” You asked, glaring up at him as spit cascaded down your chin. “Pl-please fuck me. I’m begging you.”

He whined, placing a finger under your chin. You grinned, standing before him. “Please…” he whispered, pulling you closer by your waist.

Without a second to spare, you pushed him up against the large rock behind the waterfall. You took the opportunity to kiss every inch of his chest, feeling on his strong arms that were wrapped around your waist. You pryed them off of you, pinning them to the wall as you stood on your tippy toes, attacking his unscathed neck. He bit his lip, watching you go completely feral on him.

He bent down, finding your lips to engage in a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other before you pulled away, a line of spit connecting the two of you. He took this opportunity to regain his dominance somewhat, turning you around so that your back was against the rock, him towering over you.

“Never knew you could be so nasty.” He spoke lowly, seductive. His hands were planted next to your head as he stared at you with nothing but sex on his mind. You could feel it radiating off of his wet skin. You managed to turn around in his embrace, backing your ass into his pelvis. He let out a breathily moan in your ear.

“For you I am. Only for you, my love.” You moaned, feeling his tip poke at your dripping entrance. Without question, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding into you slowly. A series of loud moans fell from both of your mouths, so filled with desperation.

His hands slowly slid into fists on the rock, head buried in your shoulder to muffle his cries once he started thrusting into you. You held onto his wrists for support as your head laid back against his broad chest. His thrusts were hard and needy, almost as if he’d been dying for this moment.

“I-I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He whined in between small pecks to your neck, sending you spiraling. You were a moaning mess under him, tears already forming In the corners of your eyes from the constant pounding to your sweet spot.

“I-I’ve ngh!- i’ve missed you too, lo’ak.” You whimpered before biting your lip, trying your best to suppress your loud moans. He wrapped one of his strong arms around your neck, and you instantly gripped it. He used the hold on you as leverage to send you deeper strokes, deeper than he’d ever been before.

“Mmm lo’, i-its so deep!” You moaned through a clenched jaw, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pounded into you with no mercy.

“I-I know, I know! Just take it for me.” He moaned, eyes rolling to back of his head as well. His mouth slightly agape as his head laid upon your shoulder. You felt his cock twitch inside of you, signaling that he was close, and so were you. Lines of your juices tricked down your thighs with every hard thrust. Your legs started to tremble and your stomach tightened.

“You’re gonna make me fucking cum!” You whimpered, voice rippling from the pounding you were receiving. He sped up, loud clapping sounds taking over the still forest.

“Fuuuuck, I-I’m close too. B-But I don’t want this to end. Not yet, baby! I-I can’t!” He growled, pulling out of you for a moment before slamming back into you. His and your legs buckling for a second before you both regained balance.

“Yesss!!!” You screamed, feeling that lingering orgasmic feeling in your stomach for longer than you’d ever had. He repeated the action, pulling out of you to slam back into you with full force.

“Shit! You feel so fucking good!” He whined, a single tear falling from his eye. In between this action, he pumped into you hard and steady, maintaining your peek for as long as possible.

As soon as he felt you clench around him, he’d pull out and slam back into you. Your legs trembled from the edging, it was becoming too much for you.

“Lo’ak, I-I can’t take it.” You moaned deliriously, your body going limp under him. He held you up by your waist, pushing you against the rock, sandwiching you in to keep you up.

“Yes you can, baby. I can’t let this end yet, I need you!” He whimpered in your ear before nibbling on it, sending you hard strokes. You moaned loudly, leaning your head against the wall as your legs trembled. He pulled out again for a longer time. He watched you shake underneath him, so desperate for a release.

“Lo’ak please! I- i need to cum!” You moaned breathily, holding onto the rock for dear life as you trembled. “I-I’m afraid you’re going to leave me again. Just let me savor this.” He groaned, desperate for a release too. He slammed back into you, immediately thrusting into you at a fast pace.

“Lo’ak I SWEAR I-I’m not leaving you again! You don’t have to to worry about that…j-just let me fucking cum please!” You screamed.

“PROMISE!” He growled, his dominance and animalistic urges taking the forefront. He tightened his grip around your neck, making it hard for you to breath. “I PROMISE!” You strained, tapping his arm for him to loosen up.

“Cum.” Was all he said before sending you the hardest stroke of the night, leaving it there. You screamed loudly, legs trembling as your juices ran down your legs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you leaned back into him in complete exhaustion. Without a second to spare, he began to move inside of you again, chasing his own orgasm.

“Oh my fucking God! I’m cumming, y/n. I’m cumming, fuuuuck!” He whimpered, legs trembling against yours as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He sent you another hard thrust, leaving himself deep inside of you as he painted your walls with his seed. The feeling alone could’ve made you cum for a second time.

“Yesss, give me all of it!” You moaned, bending over slightly, just for his seed to seep deeper into your womb. He held you tightly, sinking his fangs into your neck to suppress his muffled cries. The sharp pain making you hiss lowly. He detached, blood running down his lips as he licked your wound clean.

“I-im sorry. I got carried away. I-I didn’t mean t-“ he rambled before you cut him off.“I’m fine, lo’ak.” You moaned. He pulled out of you, watching the access cum leak out of your tight cunt. You turned around in his embrace, bringing him closer to you.

“You make me feel so good. Don’t apologize for that.” You shook your head, smiling up at him. He smirked at you, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

After that, you two cleaned each other for the second time before making your way back to his hut. You got dressed in one of his huge t-shirts again, and curled up into bed with him. You two talked for most of the night before you knocked out in his arms. However, he couldn’t seem to sleep, not without his aid. He’d been doing Xanax for a month straight, and it was hard to just quit that.

As you slept against his chest comfortably, he held you tightly, glaring at the bottle of Xanax behind you. He couldn’t help the urge to down the entire bottle. And for what? You were literally in his arms, yet he still craved the drug. He sighed, reaching over you quietly to grab the bottle. He untwisted the cap, downing the 10 pills that were left. No water was needed, when he swallowed them.

He put the bottle back, wrapping you tightly in his arms before he closed his eyes. The voices in his head slowly died down as the drug consumed him. That numb feeling he had been searching for finally settling in as he drifted off into a deep…deep…deep slumber.

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @blueslxt-primary @jackchampismybbg @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @loaksbabyy

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lovemyavatar · 2 years

Text

STAR GIRL

| Lo'ak x F!Avatar!Reader |

Summary: time heals all wounds

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, reconciliation, (aged up) nsfw, switch Lo’ak, mating WHOOP WHOOP

chapter seven chapter nine

Chapter Eight

Lo’ak has never been quiet.

He’s never been one to sit still, to remain in one place for too long. He’s antsy by nature, constantly moving, acting on every whim that pops into his head. Nothing like his older brother, he’s reckless, impulsive, never too far from trouble.

It’s why his current subdued demeanor has caused such a stir within the clan. Things have been quiet, without event for a solid five day stretch. It’s nearly unheard of, going so long between stories of Lo’ak’s misadventures.

He’s simply goes about his business in silence. Completes his chores without protest, obeys orders the first time. Doesn’t argue with anyone, not even Jake. Not even Neytiri.

She’s tried, sitting beside him at meals, seeking him out during the day. She’ll run her fingers over his braids, cooing under her breath when he won’t even look at her. But he’s stonewalling her. Hasn’t even so much as spoken a single word to his mother since you left.

Whispers follow him like jagged shadows, questions of what happened and, where is Y/N making his ears twitch with unease.

For the first time in years, his family is truly worried. He’s been a bit of an outcast since childhood, marching to his own beat. But his head always remained high, spine straight with confidence despite his inclination toward loneliness.

It’s nothing like the picture of him now. Between duties he wanders aimlessly, eyes glazed and dull. There’s no energy behind his stride, he merely sulks around like a scorned child. His shoulders droop, as if heavy from the lingering devastation plaguing his soul.

When he doesn’t feel like moping openly, his sits near the edge of the forest, knees tucked into his chest, arms wrapped around himself as if they’re a lifeline, keeping him whole. If he’s feeling truly vindictive, if he wants to punish himself exceptionally hard, he’ll go to your secret spot and just cry.

The only thing that’s given him motivation to get out of bed, provided a tiny semblance of peace, are his continued efforts to win you back.

The day you left him, nearly a week ago, haunts him. It replays each time his eyes close, even if only to blink. He’s cursed himself a million times for letting you go, for watching you fly away as if the last several months meant nothing.

To him, they are everything.

And he’s determined to prove it to you. He hasn’t stopped looking after you, making sure you’re safe at the very least. He knows you’re hurting just as he is, but if anything harmed you physically—if your perfect skin acquired any scars because of him—he’d never forgive himself.

When you took to the sky that day, he was quick to follow on his own Ikran. He kept a wide birth between you, a large enough distance to remain undetected in your distracted state. Every sway, every near fall due to both your and the animal’s exhaustion made his heart drop.

You wandered for a bit, circling the area until you seemed to find whatever it was you were looking for. He trailed you all the way back to the lab, only Eywa knows how you actually managed to spot it while high above the clouds.

He found a place to hide among the trees, silently watching as you staggered your way inside the small building. Mixed emotions made his chest ache, relief that you were somewhere safe, and grief that it wasn’t with him.

There hasn’t been a single day where he doesn’t manage to sneak back to see you. He feels a bit like a creep, ducking into the foliage to watch you. The slight embarrassment isn’t nearly enough to deter him, every tiny glimpse only fanning the flame of determination.

The first day, you woke to find a bushel of plants outside the lab door. It was an odd mix of flowers and leaves, but nearly every color under the sun was present, creating a beautiful mix.

Next, a basket of yovo fruit, the same food the two of you shared during your first real encounter all those months ago.

Then, it was jewelry. Bracelets, arm bands, each piece expertly woven and adorned with personalized beads. Your fingertips spent extra time trailing over small letters, carved into the bead at the center of a choker. An L for him, the first letter of your name right beside it.

On the fourth day, you could tell he was getting desperate. When you opened the lab door, all that greeted you was your journal, placed neatly on the ground with your throat microphone laying on the cover. It made your breath hitch, eyes trailing up toward the trees. You scanned the area, unable to shake the feeling that he was close by.

He risked the wrath of his parents to get the items back for you, a thought that made your stomach twist with emotions you’d desperately tried ignoring.

On day five, there was nothing. You’d be lying if you said your ears hadn’t flattened in disappointment, heart hadn’t dropped at the idea that he’d given up on you. You retreated back into the lab, resuming your usual activities, though your mind was decidedly elsewhere.

You’ve barely slept, eaten only what Meg manages to shove into your hands when you aren’t paying attention. The pain in your chest has dulled to a constant ache, an all-consuming reminder of why you’re back here in the first place.

The days stretch on and on, as you yearn to be within the forest. Your soul cries out to be reunited with the clan, with Home Tree and the few people you know love and care about you, like Kiri and Tuk. Their sudden absence in your life has left a gaping hole, a wound now filled only with the bitter sting of loneliness.

But fear overrides your desire to flea toward familiarity. To go back there—to face Jake and Neytiri—it would be like walking yourself to the gallows. You’d be offering yourself for banishment, or worse. So, no matter how badly you want to return, you know it’s for the best if you don’t.

“Please, take pity on the poor boy.” Meg’s sudden voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

You look up from your work station, where everything is now packed neatly in cardboard boxes. Your eyes find her as she walks into the room, her own items held tightly in her arms. Your brows furrow with confusion, unsure what she’s referring to.

The two of you have talked endlessly about Lo’ak, and the subsequent downfall of your relationship. You’ve poured your heart out, barring every scar the two of you engrained in the organ. She’s listened and given much needed advice but still, the statement seems random.

“Oh, come on.” She unceremoniously dumps her armful of office supplies onto her desk, hand sweeping toward the lab door. “He’s been sulking out there for, like, three hours.”

Your eyes pop wide, heart leaping in your chest. Lo’ak is here? The thought makes your stomach twist with anxiety. You haven’t seen so much as a glimpse of him since your conversation in the forest all those days ago.

“Meg!” You chastise, gaze snapping toward the nearest window, shocked she waited this long to say anything.

“I thought you knew!” She’s quick to defend, hands raising in a show of surrender.

A slow breath leaves your lungs as your eyes hesitantly flick toward her again. Her expression softens at the look of turmoil written all over your face.

“You should go tell him the news.” Her voice is gentle, eyes knowing as she begins organizing her things.

Your chest tightens with uncertainty. Every second of every day since you left him, your heart has yearned to be close to his again. It’s taken much rationalization to prevent yourself from flying back to the clan and falling into his arms.

No matter how much you want him, miss him, ache for him, you’ve convinced yourself it’s just not what’s best. There are too many forces working against you. Too many voices calling out everything that’s wrong with the union.

Early on in the week, you resigned yourself to never seeing him again. The fact that he would be safe, would get to stay with his family, brought a bit of comfort to your shattered heart.

That is, until things changed here at the lab, forcing you to make a more permanent decision.

“Yeah.” You nod absently in agreement, bottom lip tucking between sharp teeth.

Your gaze flickers over the closed lab door, stomach dipping. You didn’t expect for it to happen like this. Honestly, you wanted this conversation to be on your terms. It would’ve been so much easier to tell him if you had time to rehearse, time to think about how to break the news gently.

“Go on.” Meg crosses the room with a dramatic roll of her eyes. Her hands wrap around your shoulders, firmly guiding you toward the door.

“Wait—” You panic a bit, unease tightening your chest. Your heels dig into the tiled floor, but it’s no use.

Within seconds, she rips the door open, shoving you outside with a hand against your back. Before you can even catch your balance, just as you turn around, the large metal slab slams in your face.

Your gaze is locked on the structure, heart slamming between your ribs. Your lungs tremble as you force a calming breath from your lips. A tap on the window beside the door makes your attention shift, landing on Meg as she shoos you away.

Your expression pinches, hands tightening into fists as you force yourself to face him.

He’s just scrambled up from the dirt, muscles rigid at the sound of movement for the first time since he arrived. He stands several feet away, looking every bit the mess you feel. His braids are unkempt, face sunken with the effects of barely eating or sleeping for nearly a week.

The sight of him sends a shockwave through your system. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the rush of emotion that overtakes you as his eyes desperately bore into yours. Your heart swells and clenches in your chest, stomach rolling with uncertainty.

“Why is everything in boxes?” The question releases from his lungs in one swift breath, voice barely above a broken whisper.

His gaze sweeps from your head to your toes, just to prove to himself that you’re still okay. That you’re really standing right here in front of him. He watches as you curl inward, arms wrapping around your middle, and his heart splinters. His hands ball into fists at his hips to prevent himself from reaching out.

You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. You’d almost forgotten how intense his gaze is, how he makes your stomach flutter with a simple glance.

“The lab is moving.” You visibly wince at the way his eyes bulge, wishing you’d found a more gentle way to phrase the bombshell.

“No, no.” He charges forward a few steps, arms outstretched before forcing himself to stop. To give you space. His breath catches, panic gripping his chest. “Y/N, you can’t do this.”

“Lo’ak…” You prod carefully, a tiny step closing another fraction of the distance between you.

“I know you're upset with me, but I—you can't just disappear!” His voice raises, aching to grab you and never let go. He wants nothing more than to throw you over his shoulder. Bring you back and force you to hear him out.

He can only take so much, and his resistance is wearing thin. It’s why he showed up today. He just couldn’t wait a second longer to see you, to talk to you. The need to fix things between you is overwhelming, he can’t focus on anything else until you’re back in his arms safely.

“Lo'ak.” His name is a pointed hiss as you step forward again, now only a foot of space separating you. One of your hands lifts, palm facing him in an attempt to calm his unease.

“Y/N, I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll even go with you!” His eyes round desperately, chin wobbling with rising emotion. “I don’t know how to do any of your science stuff, but I’ll learn! I’ll do anything—”

“Lo'ak!” You yell sharply, cutting off his panic before he completely unravels in front of you.

He stops, breath hitching. His vision blurs, devastation clawing at his chest as he imagines how unfulfilling a life of never seeing you again would be.

“I’m not going with them.” You catch his eyes, willing him to understand what you’re trying to say.

“What?” He breathes, truly expecting you to say anything but that.

It feels like his chest in caving in, a painful mix of emotion swelling between his ribs. A tiny flicker of hope ignites within his soul as his gaze searches yours, waiting for you to proclaim that this is all some sick joke.

“I want to come home.” The words fall from trembling lips, only a quiet murmur, but they set him ablaze.

When Meg told you about the move, and the correspondence they’d received just yesterday, it helped put your conflicting thoughts to rest. It was clear instantly what you should’ve known all along—there’s no better place for you than at Lo’ak’s side. Despite the forces stacked against you.

A ragged sob bursts from Lo’ak’s chest as he closes the distance between you. In an instant, his hands are on you, fingers sinking into the braids at the back of your head. He jerks you forward, claiming your lips with his in a bruising kiss.

You lean into him, arms winding around his neck to keep him close. Your mouth is feverish on his, a wild release of days of pent up longing. Tears roll freely from your eyes and his, coating both your cheeks with moisture. Your lips meld together, tongues exploring as if for the first time again.

When his lungs cry out from lack of air, he reluctantly pulls back, forehead pressing into yours. He feels like he might just die if he isn’t touching you in as many places as possible. Your chest heaves with the effort of calming your ragged breath.

He only manages to take in a single gulp before the need to reattach his lips to your skin becomes overwhelming. He peppers gentle kisses along your cheeks, the curve of your jaw, all the way down the column of your neck. When he reaches the place just above your collarbone, he pulls away, eyes catching on his craftsmanship.

“You’re wearing it.” He breathes, surprised. He hadn’t even noticed it until now.

“I haven’t taken it off.” One of your hands leaves his neck, fingertips running over the choker you’ve been wearing nonstop since it arrived.

His lips pull into a wobbly grin, heart exploding with relief. Maybe that means you forgive him, or that you’re willing to give him another chance at the very least. He leans forward to capture your lips again, but you sway back, keeping him a few inches away.

“Lo’ak—” You try, knowing what you need to tell him can’t wait much longer.

“No, don’t say anything.” His head shakes, heavy-lidded eyes searing a hole straight to your lower belly as he connects your lips again.

You hum against him, back arching as his fingers trail a light path down your spine. You can’t help but respond with equal passion after having no real contact with him for days. But still, the words gnaw at the back of your mind, forcing you to pull away with a gasp.

“It’s—this is important.” A small giggle bubbles in your chest as his brows pinch in irritation, lips chasing yours again.

He growls in displeasure as you deny him, arms tightening around your waist. One of your hands snakes between you, shoving against his chest lightly. He barely moves an inch, only giving you the tiniest fraction of space.

“I’m trying to tell you that I love you, you skxawng (idiot)!” You laugh, hand slapping against his chest lightly.

His brows lift, lips quirking into a tiny smile of disbelief. His wide eyes search yours, hot moisture blurring his vision. He blinks the tears away, a huge grin splitting his face as he drops his arms from around your waist. There’s barely a second for confusion to set in before his fingers hook the backs of your knees, pulling you off the ground.

You can’t help but yelp in surprise, legs closing around his hips instantly. Your ankles cross at his back, arms locking together behind his neck. There’s only an inch of space between you, just enough to smile down at him as he lifts his face toward yours.

“I’ll only ask once, I promise, I just need to hear it.” His eyes glimmer with hope, with desperation as they bore into yours. “Does this mean…?”

Fingertips dance along his temples, thumbs gently clearing the tears that have gathered beneath his eyes. Your smile deepens, heart swelling in your chest. For the first time in days, your mind is at ease. The pain in your chest is gone, replaced with nothing but warm affection.

“I’m yours, Lo’ak.” You watch as the whispered affirmation washes over him.

His eyes flutter closed, a contented smile lifting his lips. He lets out a sigh of relief, tense muscles finally releasing. One of his hands leaves your back to cradle your head as he guides your mouth back to his.

The kiss is gentle this time, soft and slow as he pours every last bit of his joy and love into you. You don’t even realize you’re moving until he steps over something, jostling your body in his arms slightly. You’re quick to deepen the kiss, limbs tightening around him.

He keeps moving, blindly carrying you to the place he knows his Ikran is waiting.

“I’ll send your stuff!” You hear Meg call out distantly, laughter shaking her voice. You wave her off without looking, without detaching yourself from Lo’ak.

The two of you keep moving like this, firmly wound together, lips passionately making up for lost time. Within another minute he has to pull away, reluctantly removing his lips from yours. His nose brushes yours, dragging up and down the smooth skin to maintain as much contact as possible.

“Hold on, baby.” He whispers, blindly connecting his and the Ikran’s queue before mounting its back.

You shift in his arms, surprise momentarily breaking the spell of rising lust. You hadn’t even realized it was here, didn’t even notice that he’d climbed the animal until warm hands gently guided you to sit in front of him.

Long fingers slip along your jaw, tenderly angling your face toward his. Glittering yellow shines down at you, a sort of broken uncertainty darkening it’s usual bright color.

“Are you sure about this? If you leave with me, I’m never letting you go.” He’s completely serious, voice rough as he makes the declaration.

If you do this, become his, there’s nothing that could ever pull you away from him again. He’ll stay by your side from sunrise to eclipse if that’s what it takes. Once you’re his nothing, and no one, will ever take you from him again.

“Lo’ak…” His name is a breathless whisper as your hands smooth over the column of his neck. “I’ve wanted you since you pointed an arrow at me, twice. I’ve wanted you since you taught me how to run, to climb, to hunt. I’ve wanted you during every training session, every game, every single moment we’ve been apart.”

“I want you. I love you. I see you.” Every affirmation is accented with a searing kiss on his lips.

You pull back, heavy-lidded gaze catching his as he shivers beneath you. The words cause a tremor to roll up his spine, stomach twisting with hot desire. It’s everything he’s been desperate to hear his entire life. The words, coming from your beautiful mouth, are almost enough to ruin him on the spot.

His lips claim yours in a rough kiss, a deep groan of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His Ikran shifts beneath you, large wings stretching as if getting ready to take flight.

“Eyes on the sky, yawnetu (love).” You pull away with a laugh, believing that in his current state, he would actually try to fly blind if it meant he could keep kissing you.

He grins down at you, pecking your lips one last time before taking to the sky. You settle into him, head resting against his chest, the steady thrum of his heart calming your still fried nerves. The journey is short, within minutes you're on the ground once again.

Lo'ak jumps deftly from his Ikran, disconnecting their queues before lifting a helping hand in your direction. He grins up at you, unable to hide the overwhelming joy he feels at having you by his side again. It still doesn't feel real. A tinge of anxiety still plagues the back of his mind with whispers that it's too good to be true, that he doesn't deserve you.

The second your feet meet the warm earth, he pulls you into him, arm snaking around your back to press your front against his chest. His free hand cups your jaw, guiding your mouth back to his. Your arms curl around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer.

He walks you backward, groaning into the kiss. Warmth fills his chest, overwhelms his senses as he’s overcome with the desire to make you his. You don’t even realize where you are, not until the sound of running water fills your ears as you move closer to the source.

You break away from the kiss, trying soothe ragged breaths, eyes scanning the area. A grin splits your lips as Lo’ak maintains contact, skimming his mouth down the column of your throat. A shiver rolls along your spine as you hold onto him, heart swelling with love and appreciation.

He’s brought you to the pond, the place you’ve shared so many special moments. It’s fitting, you think, for your reunion to happen here. Moisture prickles at the corners of your eyes at the small act of thoughtfulness.

“Lo’ak, there’s—there’s something I need to tell you…” You pant, head tilting back as his lips kiss and suckle at your collarbone.

He hums against you in protest, his only response other than continuing to lavish your skin with adoration. Your brows furrow, hands moving to cradle the sides of his head. A tiny moan spills from your lips when he licks a slow line down to the swell of your breasts.

“It’s important.” You insist, the words eating at the back of your mind, threatening to break the blissful spell of his touch. Just the thought of telling him, of ruining such a wonderful moment, has your stomach twisting with anxiety. But you know it’s necessary. “It might change things.”

His head shakes in your hold, pulling away just enough to brush his nose along yours.

“Nothing could ever change how I feel about you.” The words are a breathless promise against your lips as he kisses them softly. “Please, just tell me after.”

He moves back again, rounded eyes boring into yours. Within the bright yellow swirls love, hope, worry, and finally, a tinge of desperation. He’s silently pleading with you not to do this, not to say anything that could potentially pull you from him. From this moment.

A soft breath leaves your lips, fingers smoothing into his braids. His eyes flutter, head tilting back slightly as the sensation washes over him. His shoulders drop, tension leaving his tired muscles as he gives into the feeling of the light tug against his scalp.

“After what exactly?” Your lips quirk into a tiny smirk, voice teasing as you watch him melt at your simple touch.

His eyes pop open, heavy-lidded and a bit dazed as they catch yours. “Did you really think you’d be leaving here without becoming my mate?”

A shiver rolls down your spine, heat settling in your lower belly at his hoarse tone. His sweltering gaze flicks to your mouth for a brief moment before his lips claim yours in a passionate kiss.

He can’t get enough. No matter how much of his skin touches yours, he wants—needs more. Something intense swells in his chest, makes him feel lightheaded, knees buckling under his weight. He folds to the earth slowly, taking you down with him.

You don’t skip a beat, easily settling into his lap. Your thighs part, creating space for him to slide between them as your knees press into the dirt on either side of his hips. A stream of low moans waft over you, and you realize he’s trembling.

Your hands smooth down his hair, cupping the sides of his neck gently. The soft press of your fingers under his jaw guides him back, just enough to allow you to pepper sweet kisses over the overheated skin of his face.

“Lo’ak?” You breathe, slightly concerned by his flustered state.

“I-I need…” His chest heaves with ragged pants as his eyes glimmer up at you, almost pleadingly.

It’s all too much, having you in his arms again. Knowing that you’re safe, that you love him the way he loves you, it’s overwhelming in the best way possible. The rush of emotion he’s desperately been avoiding for days crashes over him relentlessly, making his mind go fuzzy.

Sharp teeth catch your lower lip, slick center clenching with desire as you realize what’s going on. He’s fallen into this state before, after particularly hard days with his dad or siblings. It’s few and far between, his natural inclination toward dominance usually taking precedence.

Right now, he needs reassurance, praise, and you’re more than happy to give it to him.

“Okay, it’s okay.” You coo softly, lips trailing a searing path along his throat. His head tilts back, giving you space to explore sticky skin. “I got you.”

Your hips grind against the hard length trapped beneath his loincloth, your own garment moistening at the idea of taking care of him. His jaw goes slack, mouth falling open as soft moans rumble from his chest.

“Oel ngati kameie (I see you).” Your voice is a low whisper directly into his ear, tongue flicking against the outer edge.

It twitches under your light touch, flattening against his head. He shifts beneath you, a quiet whimper leaving his open mouth. Slowly, one of your hands snakes down his chest, his stomach, all the way to his straining cock.

His hips jerk when you squeeze him gently, warm breath fanning your chest as his forehead falls into you, grunting at the surge of pleasure. Gently, you untie the strings securing his loincloth, letting his cock spring free. It bounces against his stomach, heavy with desire.

“I love you.” You murmur into his hair, free hand massaging his scalp while the other lightly grips his cock.

Another broken whimper rumbles against your chest as you pump him slowly. His arms tighten around your middle, trapping your arm within the minuscule space between you. Warmth floods you system when he drags his fangs against your collarbone, suckling bruises into your skin along the way.

Your pace increases, fingers twisting so your thumb can catch the underside of his tip the way that makes him fall apart. His hips rut into yours, jostling you a bit, a low groan vibrating from his chest to yours. You can’t help but grind down onto him, seeking relief for your aching core.

His palms trail down your sides, long fingers curling around your waist. Without warning, he lifts you, easily maneuvering you into the position he wants. One of his hands grips your knee, untucking it from around his back so he can settle you onto one of his legs.

Heat prickles at your skin when your slick sex lands firmly against one of his thighs. The muscle flexes beneath you, creating much needed friction. You hum in satisfaction, rolling yourself over his leg at a steady pace.

His head lifts, heavy-lidded eyes searching for yours. But they’re already closed, head thrown back in ecstasy as the coil of pleasure tightens in your lower belly. They pop open at the sensation of fingers around your throat, squeezing gently to get your attention.

“Look at me, baby girl.” He rasps, trying desperately to stave off his mounting release.

Your breath hitches, an unbearably hot wave of desire landing between your legs at the sudden show of dominance. Your head lifts, eyes catching his in a heated standoff. His chest heaves, heart thrumming wildly between his ribs.

After a few beats you can’t take it anymore, the warmth in your core, the longing in your chest too intense to ignore for a second longer. Your free arm winds around his neck, fingers blindly searching until they find his queue.

A hoarse gasp lodges in his throat as you guide the thick braid forward, bringing it between your bodies. Your other hand leaves his cock, now coated with precum, quickly grabbing your own queue.

“Are—are you sure?” He pants, feeling like his chest might rupture at any moment. Excitement and apprehension swell within him, as he silently begs Eywa that you won’t deny him this time.

“Yes.” The confirmation is a breathless sound against his skin as you lean forward, pressing your forehead into his for support.

You’ve never been more sure of anything as you bring the ends of your queues together, tendrils curling into one another.

Sensation explodes within you, more intense than you’ve ever felt before. Every piece of Lo’ak rushes into you. His thoughts, emotions, the weight of your body against his. It’s all there, as if you’re experiencing it yourself. It makes your spine straighten, muscles tensing against the onslaught of stimulation.

Beneath you, Lo’ak’s eyes pop open, pupils blowing wide as he feels everything. Every shift and sway of your body against his. The way you love him, cherish him is overwhelming, the flood of affirmation swelling around his heart until he fears it may give out.

His skin warms, shocked at the depth of your feelings for him. It surpasses even his wildest dreams, the most outlandish fantasies he never allowed himself to dwell on. He can't help but moan desperately, hand leaving your throat to eagerly tear at the tie of your loincloth.

Once your glistening pussy is on display for him, he grips your hips, lifting you from his thigh to drag your slit along his throbbing length. A long moan falls from your lips, arms winding around his neck as he teases your entrance. The two of you have never done this, never gone this far.

You've both explored each other's bodies, brought each other pleasure, but this always seemed too intimate. Too sacred for anything other than this moment, when you come together as one before Eywa.

Lo'ak's entire body is quaking with the effort of holding back, of taking this slow for you. If it was up to him, he'd ram his cock into your waiting pussy hard enough to make you see stars, claiming you as his once and for all. But he wants this to happen on your terms, wants you to feel in control of how this happens for the first time.

“Just...just do it!” You gasp, seeing everything he's imagining so clearly in your own mind, the idea may as well have been yours.

“Fuck.” He groans, having forgotten about the bond, forgotten that your thoughts are temporarily shared.

His fingers twitch against your hips, hold tightening to an almost painful level. Growing impatient, you reach down between your sticky hips, fingers curling around his hard cock. He grunts against your temple, lips trailing a searing path down the side of your face.

You align his tip with your entrance, sinking down onto him in one swift motion. A loud cry leaves your lips, head thrown back as his thick cock bottoms out, stretching your slick walls. Your muscles spasm around him, the pleasurable sting bringing tears to your eyes.

“Shit! Slow down, baby. You're going to hurt yourself.” Lo'ak's jaw clenches, vice-like grip forcing you to still on his lap.

“I—I'm okay.” You pant, overcome with the unfamiliar burn of his girth inside you.

“I can fucking feel it.” He snaps, voice hoarse as he fights the urge to move. One of his hands curls around the back of your neck, jerking your head up so your eyes are forced to meet his. “Now ride me. Slowly.”

You have no choice but to obey the command, body responding faster than your brain can catch up. Your hips lift, eyes fluttering at the friction against your most intimate place. Heated gazes remain locked as you lower yourself back down, quiet moans fanning the skin of his face.

Your lips part, jaw falling slack as you find a comfortable rhythm. It's such an odd sensation, feeling both your body and his. You feel the way his cock throbs, aching to find release. The hardness, the strength against your soft warmth, it's incredible and overwhelming all at once.

Lo’ak grunts with every thrust, eyes fluttering when you clench and tremble around him. He leans forward, face nuzzling against yours until he finds your lips. The kiss is languid, passionate as your hips continue their unhurried pace.

The now familiar coil of pleasure in your lower belly makes your breath hitch, muscles tightening in preparation for an intense orgasm. One of your hands leaves his neck, knowing you need more to get there. This feels better than you could’ve ever imagined, but part of you wishes he would take control, would dominate you the way you know he wants to.

Your fingers have barely just grazed your clit when Lo’ak suddenly shifts positions. He raises onto his knees, arms holding you tightly as he lowers you onto the ground, until your back falls against the warm earth.

There’s only enough time to suck in a single breath before his cock rams into you roughly. The air lodges in your chest, spine bowing as white-hot pleasure grips you.

“Is this what you want, star girl?” He rasps into your ear, holding himself up with a hand on either side of your head.

You whimper at the nickname, uncontrollable moans falling from your swollen lips. Your skin scrapes against the coarse grass with the force of his thrusts as he fucks you hard. A yelp of surprise echoes through the trees when he nips at the skin of your neck, lightly enough not to draw blood, just to produce a pleasurable sting.

“Need your words, baby girl.” His hips tremble and jerk as his own orgasm quickly approaches.

“Yes, yes, Lo’ak! Fuck me! Make me yours!” You wail, moisture prickling at the corners of your eyes.

He growls, deep within his chest, pace becoming feverish as he chases both your release and his. One of his hands closes around your neck lightly, the other moving down to circle your clit. The moment his rough skin touches yours, you explode, the most intense wave of pleasure you’ve ever experienced ripping through you.

You scream, chanting his name like a prayer as your core tightens, clamping down on his cock before trembling with the force of your orgasm. He instantly follows, a long moan rumbling between you as he spills into your pulsing sex. His cock presses so deeply into your pussy he feels the resistance of your womb, the sensation making his eyes roll back.

“That’s one.” He pants above you, ragged breaths falling from his heaving chest as he leans back, sweltering gaze flicking over your glistening body.

“What?” Your brows pinch in confusion, mind hazy with lingering desire. Your eyelids droop, muscles falling slack beneath him as the afterglow of your release washes over you.

The corner of his lips quirks in a self-assured grin as he peers down at you, totally fucked out from his cock. It makes his chest swell with pride, a new possessiveness fanning the flames of his love for you. Now that he has you fully, now that you’re his in the eyes of the Great Mother, there’s nothing that could separate him from you.

“I’m making you cum at least once for every day that my own stupidity kept you from me.” He declares easily, loving the sight of your eyes popping wide in surprise.

“Oh, god.” You giggle, unsure if your body is up to the task.

“Come on, muntxa (mate).” He pulls his cock from your sopping pussy gently, shuttering at the way your walls clench around him. “Let’s get cleaned up so I can have my way with you again.”

You can’t help but match his huge grin, lips finding his in a sweet kiss as he helps you onto your feet slowly. His arms wrap around your waist, hugging you to his chest as he gradually lowers you both into the cool water of the pond, queues still connected.

A contented sigh falls from your swollen lips, head rolling back into the soothing water. This is how the two of you spend the remaining hours of eclipse. Swimming, kissing, murmuring sweet nothings as you make up for lost time. Lo’ak makes good on his promise, lavishing your body with levels of pleasure previously unknown well into the night.

By the time the sun peaks around the moon, you’re fast asleep against the earth, back flush to his chest, arms and legs entwined. The outside world totally forgotten as you sink into each other, into the newfound bond you share.

Inside your little bubble of bliss, nothing can hurt you, can try to tear you apart. You relish in the warmth, the love you two share. As long as you have that, it doesn’t matter what’s waiting for you around the corner.

The dark storm clouds of doubt have long parted, replaced with a calm assurance that no matter what reality greets you the next day, you’ll walk through it together.

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