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thewalkingwillowtree · 2 years ago

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His Fierce Flower - Bonus #1

This is a series of little moments during Neteyam and Enyu's married life, based off this lovely ask HERE.

Neteyam leaned his forearms against the wooden fence, where he stood on the outskirts of the training enclosure, surveying the potential new recruits. They were all young- baby faced but had the word determination pouring out of them and he remembered that not too long ago that was him in their place.

The recruits were in the middle of target practice and kept nervously glancing in his direction- like they always did whenever he would spontaneously visit. He knew he must have looked intimidating, dressed in his full warrior’s garb- war paint and all, along with his usual serious and intense expression he kept reserved for the public.

“T’qeres, that one there keeps holding his aim too long,” he called out loud, jerking his head in a young one’s direction.

T’qeres, a member of his team, moved to immediately correct the now nervous Na’vi’s stance, showing him how to correctly hold his bow.

A peel of laughter Neteyam instantly recognized, distracted him. He spotted Enyu a few feet away, walking along with some of the members of her harvest group and much to his annoyance- as always, Yaćksön was there too. Seemed like the harvesters were done for the day.

He openly stared- his soft gaze turning heated. Possessive. His eyes followed her, observing her beauty, her carefree disposition and how she’d tilt her head back, exposing her neck to the world. “Good ,” he thought. Let them see the marks he’d left there. Let them see she was taken. Let them see she was his.

“You’re doing that thing again bro. You’re all intense and shit. It’s kinda scary.” Lo’ak walked over to lean against the wooden fence as well, pulling Neteyam’s attention away from his mate.

“What thing?”

“The staring thing…at Enyu,” he replied, jerking his head in her direction.

“So? She’s my-”

“Wife? Mate? Woman?” Lo’ak rolled his eyes, then turned to scrutinise the training younglings. “Yeah ‘Teyam, I know. Just like I knew all the other thousand times you’ve reminded me and anyone else who’d listen.”

Neteyam raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see the problem here.”

Lo’ak cackled loudly, catching the attention of a few others milling about. He was immensely amused by his brother’s behaviour. He was such a goner.

“Nothing man. You do you. I mean, I don’t know why I’m surprised, you two have always been disgustingly obsessed with each other, and I’m talking way before all your feelings reveal and shit. But now, it’s like ten- no a thousand times worse. You’re like a fucking lunatic the way you look at her.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw and called out another correction to a Na’vi who was hunching their shoulders too much. “Alright, fine. So how do I look at her then?” He asked, slightly annoyed. His siblings were slowly driving him nuts lately with their comments and digs about him and his mate.

“Like a predator, hunting their prey.”

‘Well she is mine,’ he thought sardonically.

Lo’ak glanced back at Enyu who was in deep conversation with another Na’vi. “She seems happy though, which is good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, you skxawng?”

“Just making sure I don’t need to knock you out is all, I’m looking out for her,” he shrugged. “...I'm glad you’re happy though. I know I’ve been a shit brother at times…I’m glad Eynu was there for you when I should’ve been.”

The eldest Sully tensed at his brother’s words.

“It kinda sucks that you’ve moved out though- now it’s just dad and me against the girls… Fuck. I still can’t believe you guys are actually mated mated now. But I really am happy for you two.”

Neteyam side-eyed his brother, it was always strange to hear him speak this way. Half the time Lo’ak was constantly complaining about him and Enyu being too “annoyingly gross,” and that he, “hoped someone would shoot him if he ever got as pathetic as Neteyam.”

“What ‘Teyam?” Lo’ak huffed.

“Nothing. I’ve never heard you say the word happy so many times before. It’s a little unnerving. What the hell has O’tley done to you?” He grinned then elbowed his scowling brother. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Thanks bro…everything you said, that all means a lot. I mean it Lo’ak.”

“No biggy.”

“Speaking of O’tley. How’s that going?” He asked, pushing his luck. Lo’ak was pretty tight lipped about his relationship with the Tipani female.

Lo’ak’s head snapped and he shot him a sharp, suspicious glare. “Did Tiny say something to you?!”

“W-what? No!” He raised his hands in defence. “Bro I don’t know anything okay, I was just making conversation. No need to bite my head off.”

“Sorry,” Lo’ak mumbled, head hung low in contemplation. “I’m going to ask her to be my mate,” he admitted, sheepishly.

Neteyam stilled, ears twitching in shock, eyes growing wide.

“I don't want to wait anymore. I haven’t asked her yet. So don’t go yammering,” he grumbled. “Is it weird that I’m nervous? Tiny says I don’t have to worry, that she’ll say yes in a heartbeat but-” he rubbed his palms together and grinned, “I can’t help it. That normal?”

“Being nervous? Yeah bro it’s normal,” he said, returning his grin. “And my mate is right- hey stop with the scoffs every time I say it. I’m telling you the moment O’tley is officially yours, you're going to want to say it too. You’re going to want the world to know she’s yours. Just facts. But Enyu is right. You have nothing to worry about. O’tley is your person bro, she’s the one.” Neteyam ruffled his brother’s head, a bit rough but affectionately. “I am overjoyed for you brother. You have found your forever.”

“Hey you two!” They both turned to see Enyu heading towards them. Straightening up, he had to force his tail to rein still, but it was no use, it swung excitedly at the sight of his mate.

His mate. Shit.

They were only mated a few weeks now, and yet he still couldn’t believe it sometimes. He was truly the luckiest Na’vi in the world.

Lo’ak intercepted her before Neteyam could, tossing an arm around her shoulder. “Hey Tiny, how’s my favourite sister in law today?” He asked, enjoying his brother’s scowl.

She smiled, softly. “I’m your only sister in law, Lo’ but I’m great, thanks. How are you?”

Neteyam returned to his hunched position on the fence, ignoring them as they chatted and tried not to show his annoyance or petty jealousy. He promised Enyu he would work on his “sharing”.

He had just corrected another Na’vi’s form when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him. Enyu pressed a kiss against his bicep before nuzzling her cheek against him.

Lo’ak muttered a “Later,” then strode off, leaving the pair alone.

“You two okay?”

“Yeah. He just told me about O’tley.”

“Oh thank Eywa. I’ve been holding on to that one for so long now,” she sighed, dramatically and he chuckled, reaching down to absentmindedly play with her fingers, bringing them to his lips to kiss affectionately.

“Do you approve though?”

“Of O’tley? Yes. I honestly couldn’t think of anyone better for him. They are as you so like to say “perfect for each other”, no?” He glanced at her when she shifted to his side, zeroing on her lips for a second before turning away again. “He’s changed too I find.”

“Lo’ak?”

“Mhm. He’s still him obviously but- more…mature?”

“Oh yeah, I see it too. That’s all O’tley’s doing I suspect. She’s changed too, I find. Not as savage as when she first arrived.” They both chuckled.

His voice rose when he called out, “Segine! Your posture! How many times do you need to be corrected?!”

“Y- yes Sir. Sorry Sir,” the teenaged boy stuttered.

“Sorry baby,” he said, softly before returning to their conversation. “I’m surprised at my mother though.”

“What do you mean?”

“With O’tley I mean. You know mom, she doesn’t trust easily. Especially outsiders- which is funny considering who she mated with- but anyway, look at how long it took her to even warm up to Spider. I’m pretty sure the only reason she is so accepting of him this past year is because it’s finally registered to her how important he is to Kiri.”

Enyu laughed. “That’s so true. O’tley’s pretty difficult not to like though and if you really think about it, she reminds me a lot like you’re mother.”

“Shit you’re right, they are so similar.”

They stayed that way- her hugging him, him still fiddling with her slim fingers, both silently watching the end of the training until it was finished.

Later on they walked hand in hand together, towards the communal area, where a grand feast was being set up, chatting about this and that.

The quiet of the night was pierced by a guttural roar then a low rough grunt. Neteyam’s taut body went limp as he heaved, coming down from his high.

Heaven. Bliss. Ecstasy.

“Did I do good?” Enyu rasped hopefully, her voice sounding raw.

He let out a shaky laugh then peaked down from the arm slung across his eyes- right at his pretty little mate between his spread thighs. She was all swollen shiny lips, grinning up at him expectantly. He groaned at the sight of her when she began licking her lips and fingers with a hum- cleaning every drop possible.

“Uh-” he blinked then cleared his throat. “I think you broke me actually, so I’d say you did more than good, Flower.” She giggled. “I’m going to need a minute,” he croaked.

Her proud grin grew and a little purple blush tinted her cheeks. She sat up gingerly and wiped her hands on the edge of a blanket then got up to drink some much needed water- they’d been at it for hours.

His eyes followed her, greedily enjoying her bare form and that deep dark part inside of him screamed, Mine .

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I? I… kind of lost control a few times tonight.”

Enyu swallowed a mouthful then shook her head, blushing again. “No. I- I liked it actually. It felt good.”

He threw an arm behind his head, tilting up to see her better and smirked cockily. “Oh yeah? You mean when I got rough?”

Images of him gripping her hips and thighs bruisingly, flashed in her mind. Him, splaying her wide as he ruthlessly moved above her, leaving her spent and completely breathless before he was twisting her again in whatever position he wanted. It had taken every once of her strength to push him back against their furs, crawling downwards so that she could be in control for once- immediately silencing him with her first lick.

Her blush deepened even more and she nodded shyly, avoiding his stare. “You’ve been rough before but. That was new, different. Good, different though.” She bit her lip. “...I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

“Hmm.” He clicked his tongue then said, “Good to know.”

Her brows furrowed as she gulped another healthy mouthful. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He laughed.

“Like- like that! Like you want to devour me!”

“I do want to devour you though,” he said, honestly.

“You just did! Four times ‘Teyam! I’m going to have to ask Kiri for that bruise balm again tomorrow,” she complained, rubbing at her hip. “You’re lucky I’m even standing right now.”

He sat up and used a blanket to wipe at his sweat slicked chest, then to his lower regions to rid the traces of sticky residue. He was already hard again. “I guess I’ll have to do better next time then. I mean if you could stand, I probably didn’t do it right,” he joked.

“Neteyam Sully. You are insatiable, you know that?”

“Thank you baby.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Alright, enough you." She cleaned up as best she could. Dabbing away the mess between her legs that went running down her thighs- ignoring her ogling husband who said that, "that was his job."

“Turn over,” she ordered with a jerk of her chin when she had finished sponging at her chest and neck, drying her now clean hands.

“Yes ma’am.”

Enyu straddled him, with a slight wince, perching on his lower back as she warmed up barli oil between her palms. She gasped when she saw the deep crescent moon prints she had left all over his muscular back. Glancing back, she noticed them on his butt cheeks too.

Neteyam laid flat on his stomach, head resting on his folded arms as she began to massage his neck. Strong, nimble fingers working through the knots and kinks, slowly moving across his broad shoulders and down the expanse of his back.

As she worked, they chatted mindlessly about their day and made plans for their weekly date night.

“So something interesting happened today,” she said nervously.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbled.

“Saubru offered me her position in the school.”

“What?” He tried to try to lift up but she had rubbed at a stiff muscle which caused him to fall back with a grunt. He moaned in a mixture of mild discomfort and pleasure as she kneaded the tight spot. “Are you serious, Flower?”

“It’s insane right?”

“I mean it’s Saubru, so yeah… I didn’t believe the- ah! Shit baby, easy. I didn’t believe the rumours about her when I first heard about her retirement, and I don’t think she said anything to my dad. What- well what did you say?”

“That I’d have to think about it…but I don’t know ‘Tey.”

He frowned, not liking her tone. “Hey, hang on, stop for a second. Come here.”

She flopped next to him and he tugged her close, slotting his thigh between hers. His eyes traced her face momentarily before he kissed her furrowed brow and frowning lips, sweetly.

“What’s with the sulking? What’s making you want to say no?”

She thought for a second. “I’m already good at what I do, I’ve been a harvester for years now. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was nervous leaving the comfort of it. And this is the Saubru we’re talking about. She’s a legend. Ancient! It's a big role to fill. It’s a really big role to fill, I mean these are young minds she’s shaping. What if- what if I don’t match up?”

“Are you kidding me? Baby, you’ve been helping with the school for a long time now, she clearly sees your potential. I mean Enyu, the sheer fact that she’s a legend and she asked you- out of all the others she’s worked with, she asked you. That says something.”

The Na’vi in particular was the clan’s current oldest member. She was an educator. The best of the best, teaching littles ones- Tuk’s age and under. Teaching was Enyu’s dream job and she had gotten a taste of it when she was given the opportunity to finally tutor for her field and smaller tastes whenever the school took her up on her volunteer offers.

He kissed her forehead again and smoothed his palm up her back in comfort. “You’re amazing, you know that? And whatever decision you make, I’m proud of you either way.”

She smiled. “What do you think I should do?”

“No, this is all you. I can’t tell you what I think.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m thinking purely selfish thoughts. That’s why.”

There were only two thoughts in particular. One, no more Yaćksön hanging around his wife and two, no more Enyu leaving the clan to forage anymore. She’d be safe and sound at all times and he wouldn’t have to scold her anymore about leaving her group to wander off alone or for not paying attention to her surroundings.

After the war he noticed she had been avoiding the fool, his gut told him something had happened and he was right. He managed to coax the truth from her and was livid when she told him about the incident in the cave. It took everything within him not to go after Yaćksön but when his wife had firmly told him she had it settled he knew he had to leave it at that. It didn’t stop him from keeping a watchful eye out though.

She clambered onto his back again to resume her massaging. “Of course you are thinking that way,” she giggled. “Well I don’t know what I’m going to do yet but I have time. She gave me two weeks to decide. And get this, she said she’d be my tutor until the final handover and everything! Insane right?”

“That’s crazy, Flower! I’m so happy for you. Oh wait, if you say yes, Tuk is going to freak. She’ll get to see you all day.”

When Enyu eventually finished ridding him of his tension and he was completely pliable beneath her hands, she laid on top of him, pressing her chest against his back and snuggled into his neck. His eyes were closed- on the cusp of sleep.

Groggily he said, “Mm, you have magic fingers, you know that? The things you can do, oh my-”

“Tey!” She giggled. “Kiss,” she begged.

He tilted his head out from the cocoon of his arms and they kissed lazily, as if they had all the time in the world.

Neteyam smiled against her lips when she sighed in complete contentment.

“Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a little sweet Na’vi and she lived in a cave far far away all by herself but she was lonely and needed a friend. So one day she- ‘Teyam! You’re not listening to me! You have to pay attention.”

Enyu pressed her lips together to stifle her laughter at the pair, turning in the crook of her mate’s shoulder to hide her amusement before she too got scolded by the bossy little girl.

It was late at night- way past Tuk’s bedtime to be exact and they were in the middle of an unanticipated story time session. She and Neteyam were laid stretched out in their bed of soft blankets and leathers with his baby sister cuddled on top of his chest as they tried their hardest to pay serious attention to her.

“I was just resting my eyes Tuk, I promise I’m listening,” he grouched, he was not entirely happy with the way the night was playing out. He had other plans in mind. Adult themed plans.

Tuk tilted her little head, squinting as if she didn’t believe him. “Why are you so grumpy? I'm telling you a nice story.”

Neteyam puffed out his cheeks then gave his sister a genuine smile and tickled her side. “I’m grumpy because it’s late and you’re supposed to be in your own bed. We talked about this, remember?”

She glowered at him- clearly offended, before clambering off him- all bony knees and elbows poking his ribs and gut, and straight into Enyu’s arms instead. His sister then stuck out her tongue in retaliation at him when Enyu cuddled her closer.

Wiping his hands down his face in frustration he let out a low groan as Tuk continued her storytelling.

Tuk’s story- like always, was an odd mix of human and Na’vi tales, big bad wolves who huffed and puffed, Na’vis who’s noses grew if they told lies and ikrans who could fly into space.

She eventually fell asleep- dead to the world, nestled between her and Neteyam, cheek smushed against Enyu’s chest, one hand still clutching her brother’s fingers. She loved and always demanded cuddles whenever she spent the night with them. It was no use getting her to sleep in the little pallet of furs Neteyam had made specially for her.

Enyu’s eyes snapped up, locking with her husband’s tired glare, when she felt his tail caressing her thigh.

“This is becoming a problem,” he whispered.

“I think it’s sweet.”

He leaned up on the arm that wasn’t currently occupied in Tuk’s clutches and scowled at her as if she were insane.

“Sweet? Baby, this is the fourth time this week…you can’t keep saying yes and letting her have her way. What about me? I’m your mate.”

Mirth danced in her eyes at the cross expression on his face. “Ma’Tayam, are you…jealous of your baby sister?”

“Yes. She is purposely hogging you!” He hissed quietly, glancing down to make sure that Tuk was indeed deep in sleep before he continued. “She sees you all day in school now and then comes to our home and stays here all night, cuddling you!”

Enyu pressed her lips together, praying to Eywa to help her keep it together. It was always a little entertaining when her husband got like this but she couldn’t dare laugh. She had made the mistake of doing it once before and he had immediately called a family meeting to show her just how serious he was. Lo’ak and Kiri had both shot her daggers for having to sit through his entire speech about ‘boundaries’.

“This ends tonight. I’m putting a stop to it.” And with that he extracted his hand then turned his back on them, intending to sleep.

With an impatient huff he turned and leaned over once again, giving her a chase kiss on the lips and a grumpy muffled “I love you” before going back to his sulking position.

They had been having similar problems even before they were mated and Neteyam couldn't wait to finally move them out of his family's home, hoping it would solve the ‘boundaries’ issue. Since she and Neteyam had moved into their own little tent two months ago however, Tuk, who was probably more excited than the two of them combined, was their most regular visitor.

She had been inviting herself over for ‘sleepovers’ and Enyu being the sucker she was, always found it hard to say no. At first it was cute- and it still was, but the more it occurred, the more frustrated her husband got.

To put it straight…he was having a hard time sharing her but she understood, some nights she wished it were just the two of them as well.

Quite early the next morning, after breakfast was served along with a rather aggressive game of ‘I spy’, Neytiri came over to pick up Tuk.

The seven year old was quite pouty when Neteyam sat her down to gently break the news that the sleepovers could no longer be as often.

“But why?”

“Because…well, you know how Enyu and I are mates right? Well I want to be able to spend some alone time with her when I come home.”

Tuk screwed up her face as if what Neteyam said was the most absurd thing she ever heard. “But I want to spend time with her too.”

“And you can, I’m not stopping you, I’m just saying that we could maybe have less sleepovers.”

Tuk, who was sitting in Enyu’s lap, leaned back against her chest with a little huff. She hugged the older Na’vi’s arms as though Neteyam was planning on taking Enyu away right then and there.

“You’re just being selfish, ‘Teyam.”

He rubbed his forehead, “Tuk, I promise I’m not trying to be, it’s just Enyu is my wife and-”

“Well she’s my best friend! You just don’t want to share her!” Enyu hid her smile in Tuk’s hair.

“Tuktirey…mom, can you please help me out here?”

“Hmm?” Neytir paused mid chew. “Oh I could, but you’re doing so well. Think of it as practice for when you have your own little ones,” his mother said with a knowing smile. She shot Enyu a wink then, like an unbothered queen, she went back to munching on the breakfast spread Enyu had laid out. Enyu had a sneaky suspicion that the entire ordeal was quite entertaining to her mother in law.

Eventually after much back and forth, Neteyam and his sister decided to 'compromise' . Tuk was a natural negotiator and managed to bargain her way to sleepovers, six nights a month.

The moment his mother and sister left, Neteyam tied the knot to their entrance extra tight then tackled Enyu, with a mumbled “finally ”. She shrieked and laughed as he pressed her into their bed, playfully covering her with kisses on every inch of her face before finally claiming her lips.

Those kisses turned heated and hungry and her body, so responsive to everything he did, felt hot and needy, aching parts instantly begging to be touched.

Her mate kissed down her body, lapping, sucking at the column of her throat, across her collar bones, pausing to give special attention to her feather covered breasts, where his hand was already inching towards.

“Don’t you dare.” She grabbed the back of his braids, raising him so he could see how serious she was. “You keep ruining them faster than I can replace them.”

“Then stop talking and take it off already,” he ordered in that bossy tone of his that always seemed to make her brain short circuit. “Baby. I’m not going to ask you again. Time is wasting, I could have made you come by now. I have to make up for what I missed out on last night.”

She hurriedly removed it and squirmed when he feathered his lips across her nipples.

His hand had just curled around her loincloth, with every intention of ripping it away when they heard Kiri call from outside. “I’m coming in! You two better be decent and not fooling around at this hour.”

Neteyam didn’t let Enyu go though, if anything, he slipped right between her thighs, tightening his tail around one of her ankles to keep her from trying to escape.

“Tey-” She tried to protest.

“Kiri, you need to leave, now!”

They heard her snort. “Nope, I’m here to see Enyu, we have plans and O’tley is already waiting, so you better let her out or I’m coming in. I swear I’m already feeling the nausea brewing just by interacting for such a short time, you guys don’t want me barfing, right?”

He had this coming- she was doing this on purpose he knew. He had publicly chastised both her and Spider- Spider mostly, while they flirted and whispered from their seats in the back of a warrior's meeting. In his defence, the meeting was a serious matter, Kiri was not even supposed to be in attendance either. He was also the Second in Command and he had to lead by example- he could not make exceptions. His father certainly didn't.

Neteyam face planted into her chest with an agitated groan and Enyu snickered. Kiri was not bluffing, she’d really walk right in.

“What plans could you have possibly made for this ungodly hour? It’s supposed to be our day off!” He seethed, quietly, narrowing his gaze on Enyu.

She gave him a meek smile. “I’m starting back with my bow lessons. O’tley’s going to be training Kiri and I. I forgot it was today.”

He frowned and closed his eyes as if pained. “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?”

“I’m sorr-”

“Do you feel what you are doing to me?”

He grabbed her wrist and guided her hand downward to palm at the impressive bulge under his loincloth and she gasped- automatically squeezing her fingers around him. They hadn’t done anything in almost three days. It had obviously been taking a toll on him.

“Shit,” he groaned. “Stop, that’s not helping baby.”

“Enyu!” His sister bellowed again, reminding them that she was just outside.

“For Eywa sake! Yes alright, give her a few minutes to get dressed Kiri!” He called out, but then he caged in his mate, hands on either side of her head as he whispered in a deep and dangerous tone. “You better not invite anyone over later. I will deal with you tonight, wife. I’m thinking I need to remind you of why we need alone time together.”

Her body broke out in goose pimples and she felt heat pool in her lower abdomen. He nipped her ear and pinched one of her nipples before sitting up.

When she didn’t move he held back a smile, obviously pleased with himself. “Flower. Kiri’s waiting.”

She blinked. “Huh? Oh right,” she said, sheepishly, blushing like crazy as she hurriedly got dressed.

Oh the things he made her feel. She couldn’t wait for tonight.

“We’re going to have to start packing soon. The big move is starting up.”

“We still have some time, we won’t be leaving until the last group anyway, right?” Enyu combed through the section she had just parted, then began to plait the hair, skilled, nimble fingers moving quickly.

“Well, I was actually thinking of us leaving with the first fleet, instead of going with my parents. We’d get to settle down early, explore the new lands a bit. Just the two of us… kind of like a honeymoon, maybe? You know since we never had one.”

Honeymoons were a human tradition, and when Enyu had first heard about it she jumped at the chance of her and Neteyam having one. Only they never seemed to have gotten around to it.

Her husband had been Second in Command for the past five months but he was still adjusting to the role and all the new responsibilities that came with it- it was no simple task. And only a month ago she too switched jobs. She now worked with the school, teaching the little ones- Tuk’s age and under. So the reality was that it was a bit difficult for them to just escape on a romantic getaway at a moment’s notice.

Enyu’s hands paused in Neteyam’s hair when she heard his suggestion. “Really?”

Neteyam turned to face her- his first half done braid slipping from her fingertips. Her eyes roamed over his freshly washed hair which framed his face. She loved when it was loose and flowing.

He shrugged, “I mean, it’s just a thought. The school is going to be on break until after anyway, so it won’t really affect you and-”

“Yes.”

His lips quirked. “Yes? Just like that?”

“Yes. I want to go,” she replied with an excited beam. However, it faded quickly and turned to worry as her mind whirled. “Oh Eywa! We have so much to do then. We have so much to pack and I have to make sure our new bedding is completed in time. I have laundry to do and-” she gasped, “Oh Great Mother, Tey! How could we forget, we still have to go through the hmmm-”

In true Neteyam fashion, her husband cut her off with a kiss. “Breathe, Flower,” he said, when he pulled back.

She frowned. “But you don’t under-”

Kiss.

“Tey!”

Kiss.

“Wait-”

“Enyu… baby. Don’t make me shut you up like I used to before,” he teased in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows.

That sure did it. She giggled girlishly when she remembered all those times in their friendship, how he’d shut her up by tickling her until she had tears streaming down her face, gasping for air. Now, whenever she’d go on one of her tangents he’d just kiss the heck out of her. She liked that better.

He circled her ankles in his large palms and tugged her close, resting her spread thighs over his folded ones, large hands smoothing over her soft skin. “Hi wife.”

She smiled. “Hi, husband.”

“Shit. I love hearing you say that, I don’t care if Kiri says it’s corny…Are you all calm now?”

She shrugged and reached up to tether her fingers in his loose hair, marvelling at its softness. “Mmm, not really. This hair is doing all sorts of things to me.”

His bark of laughter was like music to her ears and when he scooped her up, callused fingers kneading into the flesh of her butt cheeks as he rested her high on his abs, he said, “You’re making me blush here, Flower.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

His eyes glinted dangerously and she bit the inside of her cheek to ground herself, when it caused her to shiver. Those were her magic words, lately whenever she said them, he took it personally and made it his duty to really, “show her what he was going to go about it”.

“Nothing yet.” He placed her back down- much to her disappointment, then turned his back to her once again and shook out his hair. “I’ll deal with you later tonight when we get back from the Eywa prayer.”

She scowled but moved anyway to continue sectioning his hair. “You know we have time right? How about after I’m done with your hair?” She asked, hopefully.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“You’re being mean today. I don’t like it.”

“Because I’m not giving you sex?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. “Aw baby, I’m sorry…but I’m just giving you a little taste of your own medicine. You know I always give in to your demands…but just this once you get to feel how I do when you’re always inviting my sisters over or ditching me to hang out with my mother and grandmother.”

“Well I don’t like it.”

Her mate laughed again. “Well now you know how I feel.”

There’s just something about brand new, freshly washed, furs and leathers that always made Enyu happy. She loved the process of putting it all together, meticulously arranging the soft blankets and cushions then getting to lay in it after.

Which was what she was currently doing, humming cheerfully and shaking and wiggling in an odd but cute dance. Her mate shot her an amused look from his position in the middle of the tent where he was carving a beautifully intricate design onto their new family table. He loved seeing her like this. Carefree. Happy.

When she finished making the bed to her liking, she stood and looked around with a huge grin. Their new home was slowly but surely coming along quite nicely. It was much bigger than the one they had at high camp, and they had a lot more furniture too. Thankfully the move wasn’t as daunting as she’d thought and curtesy Norm, the rest of their belongings would be shipped soon.

Last week, when Neteyam had set up her cute little kitchenette she squealed and then proceeded to generously thank him for it. He and his woodwork friend had spent what little of their free time over the past few months, diligently working on making sure it was perfect. And it was. Perfect. They had quite a few things left to complete. Neteyam had on the top of his list to put in a request from the weavers, to loom them some privacy drapes. His family would be arriving to the new camp in two weeks time and he wanted to be prepared.

Enyu was loving their new location- not that she saw much of it in the past few weeks they had been there. They had thoroughly enjoyed their honeymoon. It was magical and she blushed whenever she remembered what they had done the entire time. So much for exploring the lands.

The tent was filled with a comfortable silence. Neteyam- still carving his design and she- nestled in their bed as she mended a tear in one of his loincloths.

“Teyam, do you have any single males in your unit? Handsome ones preferably.”

His chiselling stopped and his head flashed so fast in her direction that an audible crack of his neck was heard.

He frowned deeply. “Come again, baby?”

She looked up and huffed a laugh at his expression. “Not for me silly. I’m still on my mission to help F’valii find a mate, remember? Wingwomaning.”

“Oh, right,” he said, relaxing before returning to his task. “Um yeah I guess. There’s three unmated guys, A’oak, Tqeres and Bwo. No wait, not Bwo, he just started a courtship.”

“Hmm, well you know F’valii right? Do any of them seem like they’d be a good match for her?”

He glanced at her with an unsure frown and a single curled lip. “Flower, my guys are warriors, they’ve fought many battles and have nerves of steel but even I know your friend would chew them up and spit them out. F’valii is intimidating as shit.”

“No she’s not- okay fine, maybe a little but she’s got a secret soft side and she just needs someone sweet and patient and I’m running out of options. She is oddly very specific about what she's looking for.”

“What about that Avator guy, umm Steve? He’s a little older than her but he seems sweet as you say. He’s good friends with Spider.”

“Steve. Hmm. I don’t know him. I'll ask Spider to introduce me.”

She got up to put away her sewing, stopping on the way to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you ‘Tey.”

They were fighting. Enyu hated it and Neteyam hated it. But if there was anything marriage had taught them it was that it was better to get it out than keep it bottled up.

“I already said no, you’re not going without me.”

“You’re being ridiculous Neteyam! I’m going. I’ve always wanted to go and now I am. And plus I’ll be fine, it’s not like I’m going by myself, it's a big group.”

“I don’t give a crap about that because you’re not going. Like I said, it’s not safe.”

Fury blazed behind her eyes. “I’m not even going to be gone for long! Even Spider will be there. I’ll just stick with him if it will make you feel better.”

“Spider is going to be preoccupied with protecting his own mate. I know my sister, she’s a handful.”

“Fine, then I’ll stick with another warrior, like I said, it’s a big group.”

“Great Mother…woman, why do you insist on being so stubborn?”

“Net-”

“For shit’s sake, En’yuna, would you listen to me?! I’m only looking out for you here!”

“I don’t need you to, Neteyam! You can’t always protect me from everything! I hate that you feel like you have too!”

“Feel like I have too? Feel like I have too ? Baby, you are my wife! You are mine! Mine! I protect what’s mine. So if I want to protect you, I damn well will- you better get that through your pretty little head right now. And for the last goddamn time, you are not going!”

She folded her arms and looked away, hot tears staining her face, brows furrowed and lips pressed together. She thought that he was being unreasonable and was three seconds away from walking out the tent. They were getting nowhere.

Neteyam rubbed the heels of his palms into eyes and blew out a frustrated breath, trying to calm himself. He hated that she was crying, even more he hated knowing that he was the cause of her sadness. They’d been fighting for almost an hour now- since he’d gotten home to be exact, going in the same circle. Over and over. They needed to stop.

Hugging her from behind, he pressed his lips against her temple and spoke in a firm but softer tone. “Flower, please hear what I’m trying to say. I’ve been on that terrain before. It is dangerous and littered with predators. Not only that but there are land mines left behind by the RDA that we still haven’t found. I get that your friends are going to the waterfall and you want to go too…but I do not and will not trust them with your protection.”

She sniffled and remained stiff in his arms but he took it as a good sign since she didn’t try to break free from his hold.

“I promise you, I will take you myself the moment I get the chance too, and they are more than free to come along if they so choose. But you are not going, not without me. I’m sorry baby, but I won’t allow it. Please don’t try and fight me on this anymore.”

“Fine,” she said relenting, wiping her tears away. “I’m still mad at you right now though. So I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Baby-”

“I’ll see you in an hour,” she said, cutting him off, breaking free of his hold and walking off without a glance.

Neteyam hated watching her walk away but he knew he would only make things worse by stopping her.

Some of her ex-roommates, their friends and a few other Na’vis had planned a grand trip to visit the Great Indomi Waterfall. Enyu had always wanted to go and had happily told him the news as soon as he came home. Only he had all but told her a big fat NO, thus ensuing their argument.

With a frustrated groan, he threw himself onto their sheets and closed his eyes. A headache was brewing.

They didn’t fight very often, so this was rare for him. Thinking over their argument, he knew he could have handled it better. He should have. Blinded by his need to protect her, he was too harsh. He felt a pang in his chest, instant regret bloomed. Guilt. Neteyam also felt as if something was missing. He missed her already.

And so he laid there, mentally counting down the hour. If she wasn’t back when time was up he was going after her.

Around the forty minute mark, he got up and removed his warrior garb. He straightened their bed as best he could to how she usually liked it then peaked at the meal she had prepared for them.

Shit . He’d gone and ruined their special night. It was supposed to be date night.

“Hey.” His heart leapt. She was back.

“Flower…I am so sor-”

“Wait.” When she came closer, his heart broke a little more. She wasn’t crying but eyes were red rimmed and puffy.

“Can you just hug me please?”

He rushed forward immediately to wrap her up and she melted into his embrace, hiding her face in his chest, centring herself with his scent. Like they had done many times over the years, they swayed back and forth basking in each other’s comfort.

They were going to be okay. After all, they had each other for the rest of their lives.

I honestly had so much fun writing these moments.

Please reblog, like and let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments, I love hearing from you all :)

Take care for now.

P.s I'm tagging those of you who asked during the series but now that it's ended, please feel free to let me know if you want to be removed from future posts like this :)

@love13tter @behindthearcane @gyuventure @jackiehollanderr @melsunshine @goddesslilithmoriarty @kachowness @gamorxa @arminsgfloll @mrslandryy

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

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taylorcline · 1 year ago

Text

there's nothing like new york. the city that never sleeps. oh, taylor loves it. it's so timeless. whenever she wasn't touring, nashville was always the home base. always. it was where her family was and the place she felt most like herself. but she had found herself with an la condo, too. maybe this was the next city that she needed to get a place in. another thing she loves? award shows. they're just so fun. she'll probably always feel nervous, but she loves any opportunity to get dressed up and mingle with others in the industry. this particular award show she was looking forward to see someone special. taylor abbott: twilight heartthrob, the current object of every teenage girl's obsession, and the reason why she has so many butterflies lately. it was no secret that taylor cline's dating history was the talk of gossip. any woman in the industry could tell you, women can't write songs about their exes without being seen as obessesive and crazy. but men? men are untouchable and they know it. so instead of receiving backlash for breaking up with his girlfriend over a twenty seven second phone call because he met a brunette actress on his video shoot, taylor got all of it for mocking him with his doll on video. suddenly she was the immature one for acting like a kid, even though she literally was one. but he was just a kid! he didn't know any better! she's crazy, no wonder he dumped her! the cherry on top being the cheap attempt of song writing that was released this past summer. a five year old could've written a better song than that. so he was mad that she was mad. it's not her fault he didn't have the balls to break up with her in person. besides, he should feel so lucky the other songs she had written about him were not seeing the light of day. well, there was always another album. after all, the brunette actress was just so much better than her.

but taylor-- taylor abbott came out of left field. the blonde didn't consider herself an actress. no way. sure she did a csi episode or two, but a rom com? it was simply insane. she loves rom coms and a song on the soundtrack? there were no words. meeting him was a breath of fresh air, if you will. not that she was really looking to date, the media would make a joke to stay away from her because she will write a song about you and ruin your life. (and it's a promise, she can assure.) however, with all the time the two had spent together, she couldn't help it. enchanted, from the moment she met him. the need to want to know everything about him, seeing things that reminded her of him and wanting to tell him about it, being excited and wanting him to be one of the first to know about things, the sickness she felt when they were apart. nothing about it felt platonic. it was more of a 'oh my god, if i don't hold his hand, i'm going to drive off a cliff' way. she had always been a hopeless romantic, falling fast, it was both a pro and con. it felt utterly ridiculous. well it did until she found out it was very much mutual. and now all she wanted to do was protect it. it was all so delicate and she wanted it to work so bad. plus, it was a funny thing, dating someone with the exact same name as you. taylor squared. nothing like it.

"taylor brooke!" "you don't have to middle name me, mom, i'm ready!" taylor announced, taking one last look in the mirror, red lipstick complimenting her silver dress. the carpet, a nomination, a quick outfit change, and a performance. then she could spend all the time she wanted with her other half. leaving the hotel and settling into the limo, she pulled out her phone from her bag. a few notifications graced the front of her maroon lg env2, the (1) missed call from tay tay <3 and the voicemail notification immediately catching her eye. hm? she has to fight back the huge smile as she hears his voice on the other line. oh, is she completely enamored with him. he's everything she's ever wanted and more. cliché? maybe she's just really happy. the flashing of the lights almost enough to blind a person, but never fully. this was the life she chose, after all. there's a sea of hellos, hi, oh it's so great to see you, how are you? as she makes her way through the crowd, blue eyes finally settling on a pair of green ones. the amount of time it takes for her face light up? a second tops. well, there was still some time before the show officially started, right? everyone move out of her way, please and thank you. excusing herself with a smile from her previous conversation, he now had all her attention. "so, you leave all your costars really cute voicemails, or am i just the lucky one?" taylor teased, pearly whites on full display.

a distinct, crisp bite of a september evening whistled through stand lights of new york. ribbons of hazy fog cuddled against the blades of grass that lined the corridor of radio city music hall, colliding abruptly with the geometric design of idle porticos. fingertips crested the lip of the opening of his suit chest, smoothing the soft grey fabric as if it were the millionth time he had done so that night. nerves sprouted from the depths of his feet, slowly cascading up a warm, novel sensation to his neck. the hollow dome held a multitude of collaborative echoes, including a sea of audiences matched with the appearances of celebrities of all walks of life. tonight, taylor abbott was simply another fan. a fan of taylor cline’s, that was evident. the relationship was still so brand new, clunky footing of an actor paired tantalizingly with america’s sweetheart. their origins were deeply rooted earlier that year. flushes of longing gazes and petrified conversations that he pleaded wouldn’t allow his soft crush to show form. at least, not yet. they were co-stars, sharing time onscreen while harbouring the inevitable feelings that he adorned for her now. it was somewhat spontaneous, how overnight he morphed from laggy co worker to imagining her delicate, dainty hands enfolded in his own. how each breath he inhaled was swiftly evaporated from his chest within nanoseconds as his jade irises settled on her. even for just a split moment, that was all it took for taylor cline to completely and irrevocably encapsulate him. but he was a nervous, rattled actor on the cusp of what he had hoped was a fulfilling career ahead. taylor cline had everyone’s attention. it was a risk, to believe he had any shot of mutuality, and yet? there he was, now into an amber, sun-setting september night as a plus one to witness greatness. within the last few months of keeping company, the nineteen year-old sat front row at the abundance of potential of her career. of course, that reasoning wasn’t a tactic in climbing any sort of social ladder at hand to abuse and manipulate the trust the two had already set out for one another. paparazzi had a predominate role in stirring up fabricated mess to evoke a reaction to those they spoke about. taylor was still wobbly fumbling through the highs and lows of newfound fame, an unsung blessing to be traipsing through it with the curly tow-headed singer by his side. he beamed with unadulterated pride of her accomplishments. if the future was any indication, he anticipated it to be just the beginning for her. whipping his razor phone out of his breast pocket, nimble fingers made work of him calling his girlfriend, hoping against all hope he would receive her voicemail. when it rung and beeped, that was his signal to speak, clearing the lump that invaded his throat before forming his words. “hey, cline. superstar. should i gear myself up to share you with all of these people who love you? kidding. i know how to share. i just wanted to let you know that i’m so proud of you, you deserve this. i’m right here cheering you on…just call me your biggest fan. break a leg tonight, sincerely your valentine’s day costar,” taylor concluded, a flash of a smile curled at each corner of his lips, front teeth sinking into the border of his bottom lip. ending the call, he shoved the device back into its rightful place, a slow sigh escaping into the air as he was ushered into the building. tonight, he wanted nothing more than to celebrate taylor. the girl whom he was gracious enough to call his girlfriend. girlfriend…girlfriend. girlfriend. that word was something to get used to.

#how you held me in your arms that september night.

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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

Text

Cute

Void/Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2939 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader finally gets up the courage to tell Stiles about her feelings for him but Stiles isn’t really himself at the time.

—————————————————————————————————

You should have seen this coming.

Of course Stiles was never going to go for a girl like you. All your lives he had been absolutely obsessed with Lydia Martin and lord knows you looked nothing like her. You were never going to look anything like her, but it was easy to ignore when it was just her.

Stiles had always liked her, drooling over her in math class and talking about her every chance he got but you both knew he had about as much of a chance with her as you did with him.

It wasn’t going to happen.

...but now he had Malia.

She was just as thin and gorgeous as Lydia was, but she was actually into him. She wanted to go out with him and there was nothing stopping them from going for it, why would there be?

It wasn’t like Stiles had any clue that you had been in love with him since middle school or that you were actively more and more in love with him as time went on.

He didn’t know you thought about him as much as he thought about them, or beat yourself up because you were never going to be a size three like Lydia was.

You adored him, but he was never going to see that.

It made you feel so empty, like the last seven years didn’t mean anything to him which wasn’t even close to true. You knew that both Scott and Stiles cared a lot for you, like they cared for each other but it wasn’t enough.

You wanted Stiles to daydream about you, to see you, because you were right in front of him. You would have done anything for him, and did, but for some reason, it was still like you didn’t exist.

It was getting old.

Really old, and the more you thought about it, the more the reality of the situation upset you. You had been there for Stiles all his life.

You were right by his side when his mom got sick, and beat up Jackson Whittemore once in the eighth grade for calling him a geek, but none of that seemed to matter to him.

Stiles still couldn’t see you.

“You’ve been staring at them for thirty minutes” Scott hummed, shaking you out of your thoughts with a bump to your shoulder with his own. You were searching for anything that could explain the strange occurrences around here as of late, but there was nothing.

It wasn’t your fault watching Stiles canoodle with his new girlfriend was more entertaining than looking through some dusty old book.

“I have not” you sighed, shooting him an almost defensive look as you glanced back down at the book in question. Had he been anyone else you may have pretended to have your shit together, but Scott knew better.

He knew the two of you better than anyone else in the world, and even if he wasn’t the true alpha, which he also happened to be, it wasn’t hard to see what was going on.

You clearly liked him, in a way that wasn’t just platonic like your relationship was. You had never gotten so shook up when Scott was seeing a girl, he would have noticed.

“It’s okay, I get it” he tried, hoping that you weren’t going to try and shut him out over this again. Scott had tried to have this conversation with you a few times already, and it never worked out the way he wanted.

You always got cagey and didn’t want to talk about it.

“No you don’t, Scott. You’ve dated every girl you ever had a crush on, because you’re you” you grumbled, poking him in the abs as aggressively as you could without hurting him to prove your point.

He didn’t ever have to worry about the things you did.

Not only was Scott one of the sweetest and most brave men you’d ever known, but he also couldn’t have been in better shape if he wanted to. He looked like one of those perfectly sculpted men in the movies, with six pack abs and chiseled muscles.

It wasn’t like he constantly had to live with the knowledge that the person he loved most in this world didn’t love him back because he wasn’t good enough. You knew that Stiles didn’t feel the same way about you because you weren’t as skinny as you could have been, or as pretty as the others were.

At this point, you doubted he even saw you as a girl at all because you were just his best friend, and that was it. That was what you’d always been and considering how oblivious he was to the feelings you had for him, it wasn’t surprising.

You weren’t even on his radar in that way.

“First of all, ow! Second of all, you’re super cute, why wouldn’t he be into you?” Scott wondered, that same supportive, loving tone that was always in his voice making itself known to you. He really did believe that, not that it made you feel better.

Cute.

That was all you were ever going to be.

Puppies were cute, and everyone loved them but no one was actively dreaming of taking their favorite puppy out on a date or dreaming about a puppy out loud to their friends. You didn’t date someone just because they were cute, which was the whole problem.

You didn’t want to be cute.

You wanted to be beautiful, to be hot, to be drop dead gorgeous in the way that Lydia was, and it killed you every day that you weren’t.

“Thanks Scott, but I don’t think cute is gonna cut it” you decided, closing the book in front of you as a way of closing this conversation before getting up and heading out of the library.

It didn’t make any sense to Scott.

It was clear to him that you and Stiles had something that could very well be a great relationship but you kept getting in your own way and it wasn’t like Stiles knew what he was doing.

Some days, Scott worried he’d leave his head at home if it wasn’t attached.

“Hey Y/N, think about it” he called, catching the way you turned around to look at him before heading out to the parking lot.

There was no way Stiles was going to come to the conclusion that you cared about him as anything more than a friend on his own, and until you got that push to do it yourself, it wasn’t going to happen.

He just had to wait for one or both of you to take that chance.

Scott had a point.

Of course he did, Scott usually had a point as much as you hated to admit it. You were super cute, and while it might not have been enough, there really weren’t that many reasons why Stiles wouldn’t be into you.

Now, all you had to do was figure out what you were going to do about it, before all desire to do so left your body completely if it hadn’t already.

You had only been trying to sike yourself up about this for the past hour in the rear view mirror and it just wasn’t happening.

You felt like an idiot.

Here you were, sitting across the street from Stiles’ house like a creep, without a single idea of what you were actually going to say to him if you ever made it to his front door. It didn’t make any sense, this was a guy you’d known since you were a kid.

You had never had a problem saying anything to him or doing whatever you wanted, but now, the idea of even looking him in the face was enough to make you want to be sick. It was hardly fair but you had done this to yourself after all.

It was perfectly fine before, even if you were unhappy. No one else had to know that you had feelings for him and you could just suffer in silence but now that you had Scott in your corner, it was hard not to want to try.

Surely your shared best friend was the best authority on whether or not there was anything between you and Stiles. If anyone was going to know anything, it was the true alpha, after all.

That was like, his whole thing.

“You can do this. You’ve fought monsters, this is just Stiles” you reminded yourself, before pushing the mirror away completely, getting out of the car before you could buckle back up and drive home. It was now or never, and whatever happens, happens.

You couldn’t worry about it now.

“Hey Stiles, are you feeling better?” you hummed, the words barely registering under your breath as you tried to figure out what you wanted to say. You’d had this nightmare a million times over but you’d never actually considered doing it on your own.

Now that you were, the words just weren’t coming to you like they should have been.

“I just had something I wanted to run by you” you tried, testing out how that would sound before immediately scrapping it. That sounded like you were making some kind of business proposal and you certainly weren’t.

It had to be perfect.

Not that you had time to actually nail down what you wanted to say before you found yourself at his front door, already having knocked out of habit. Again, you briefly considered sprinting back to your car before it opened but you couldn’t make your feet move.

You knew that you had to do this.

“Hey Stiles, I was hoping we could talk” the words left your lips before you could police them, as soon as the door opened. You knew that it was hardly the smoothest you could have been but at this point, there was nothing between the two of you to soften the blow.

You just had to get this over with. If he accepted your feelings, he accepted them but if he didn’t, there was nothing you could do to change that either.

Naturally, those words freaked Stiles out a little because he assumed something terrible had happened but you didn’t seem as panicked as you should have been if someone was dying. This was a little more than your usual high strung but not by much.

“Yeah for sure, are you okay?” he allowed, moving away from the doorframe to let you in before closing the door behind you both. His dad was working late again, so it would just be the two of you but that had never been a problem before.

Especially lately, you and Stiles had killed time on several nights when Scott was busy with the pack or on date night. It wasn’t strange for you to be alone together, normally but there was a strange air about it today.

You just couldn’t tell if it was coming from him or you.

You knew that Stiles had been having a little trouble sleeping lately, and the nightmares were driving him crazy but the pack was going to handle it.

The pack always took care of those kinds of things and you both knew Scott wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.

All he had to do was wait it out and try to relax in the meantime.

…And of course, you were having a hard time being your calm and collected self as you tried to figure out the best way to go about this whole thing.

It wasn’t every day you confessed your feelings to your best friend after all.

“I’m alright, I just have something I want to talk to you about is all” you shrugged, sitting down on the couch. This was a lot harder to do than you could have ever thought, and it just seemed like it wasn’t going anywhere.

There was only so much stalling you could do before you had to tell him the truth.

“Okay, I guess I’m just gonna put it all out there,” you sighed, your hands falling on your thighs. This was your last chance to walk away and no one would ever have to know what it was you were hiding, and that almost seemed like the right thing to do.

Though, the way he was looking at you took that all away.

You knew that if you ever had a chance at being with him in the way you wanted, you had to be able to tell him how you felt, at the very least.

Here goes nothing.

“I’m in love-with you” you allowed, exhaling as if you’d been holding that in your lungs all this time, which you pretty much had. You had no idea how this was supposed to feel, but you were pretty confident it wasn’t like this.

He didn’t even say anything at first.

All you could see was Stiles rubbing his temple out of the corner of your eye, his eyes screwed shut. It was hardly the reaction you had been expecting but at that moment, it didn’t even matter. You knew what he’d been going through, and it worried you.

It always worried you, especially knowing about his mom and all the stress he’d been under lately.

Needless to say, you were more than happy to forget about everything you’d just said in favor of making sure he was alright, especially if your words had upset him.

If he didn’t feel the same, you would have happily moved on as if this moment had never happened. It would be easier than having to swallow that rejection.

You didn’t know if you could handle that after all this.

You had been hiding your feelings for Stiles all this time, and now that you said it out loud, you hoped you’d feel better but you just didn’t. This whole thing was really starting to seem like a mistake, and you didn’t even know everything yet.

Neither did Stiles.

In reality, he was more than thrilled at your confession but something was wrong. He felt like he wasn’t in control, like he wasn’t even in his own body anymore. It didn’t make any sense but he had never had a feeling like this before.

Stiles was vulnerable.

Before this moment, the Nogitsune hadn’t been able to break through to the surface but you provided the crack in his armor that it needed to escape. It was perfect, at least for the void, it certainly wasn't going to be pleasant for you.

After all, it had been a long time since it had seen the light of day and it was hungry, hungry and wearing your little lover boy like a cheap Halloween costume. Of course it was going to use that against you, void would be an idiot not to.

Your love for the boy made you little more than an exposed nerve, one that the Nogitsune could poke and prod at all it pleased until it was satisfied.

...and it certainly intended to.

All at once, there was a huge change in the room between the two of you, and more specifically, in Stiles.

There was a cold, darkness to him that you had never seen which you didn’t even realize was there until he started laughing, a deep chuckle leaving his throat.

You weren’t ready for it, but what you were less ready for was what happened when he spoke.

“Did you really think I could ever feel like that, for you? We both know that’s a little crazy” he scoffed, an almost mocking tone that didn’t sound like Stiles at all. It shocked you, in all honesty, but not for the reason you may have thought.

Deep down, you knew that Stiles wouldn’t be interested in you but you never could have imagined him being so aggressive and cruel in his rejection of you.

He’d never spoken to anyone like that before, especially not you.

“I just-” you tried, but he stopped you before you could even try to get through this whole thing with any dignity at all. For the Nogitsune, this was all fun and games, but for you, it was so much more than that.

This was quite possibly the worst moment of your life.

“You aren’t blind, you had to have known this wasn’t going to work out the way you wanted. I mean, look at you?”

Stiles was screaming, using everything he had to try and get through to you, to overpower whatever this thing in his head was, but he couldn’t make it happen. It was too much, too strong, and all he could do was sit back and let it happen.

He knew it was breaking your heart, he could see it in your face but no matter how hard he fought, there was nothing he could do to get back in control. He felt like he was locked in a cage in his own head, and someone else had the key.

He just didn't know who.

You sat there for a second more as you tried to process whatever it was that was happening right now before you felt tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, and decided that it was probably time to leave.

Staying here any longer was just going to make this worse. Besides, it wasn’t as if Stiles was in the mood to talk this out or even treat you like a person.

Clearly, Scott was wrong, being cute wasn’t enough to make someone care about you.

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justzawe · 2 years ago

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Zawe Ashton is one of the most enchanting and talented British actresses to have graced our studio. Zawe is currently earning raves for her work in Mr. Malcolm’s List playing Julia Thistlewaite, a young woman jilted by London’s most eligible bachelor (alongside a stellar cast, which includes Freida Pinto, Ashley Park, and Theo James). We had a blast shooting in Brooklyn where she was about to attend the NYC premiere. One of our favorite designer and muses Batsheva picked a few frocks that worked well for Zawe’s swiftly changing shape. For now consider a wonderful escape into Mr. Malcolm’s world if you haven’t already…and check out Zawe’s favorite green clean beauty and lates bare essentials.

The Bare Magazine: Can you share a bit about the New York City screening of “Mr. Malcolm’s List”?

Zawe Ashton: It was an amazing thing to open this film in New York, one my favorite cities in the world—made more special by my time spent on Broadway in 2019 before all the theaters shut down because of the pandemic. The response to the movie has been so warm and so supportive, we’re so grateful as a team. We’re an independent film that took 27 days to make up against some huge franchise releases this summer, so it means so much to see the positive responses. Being here in the city, safely, after shooting this film in deepest lock down in Dublin, is such a wonderful full circle. To be part of the new wave of theatrical releases, encouraging people back to the cinema feels tremendous.

Bare: Did you enjoy your visit to our Brooklyn studio as much as we enjoyed having you?

ZA: I adore Brooklyn, I love being by the water in the city. As if you have the Statue of Liberty at the end of your street! In another multiverse, I’m an achingly cool photographer living and working in Brooklyn, with a light filled studio just like this!

Bare: What do you hope viewers take away from this film?

ZA: I think this is a very kind film. We need that right now. There are serious threats we face in our world. As an artist, I can try and polish my corner as best as possible and put work out there that feels like it helps in some way. This film is pure escapist rom-com-regency-romance joy! It’s pretty much the first feature film in this genre with an inclusive cast in leading roles of all types—romantic lead, protagonist, antagonist.etc. It’s a needle mover in that way and there’s a real powerful legacy to that, as well as it being so light and wholeheartedly entertaining. I had so many formative experiences watching films of this genre, mostly because I had grown up wanting to see my imaginings of books of this era brought to life, and when they were , no one in them looked like me. So, if we can change that formative experience for the next generation, as a team of actors, we will have fulfilled a purpose beyond just movie making. I also have a real intentionality in my work to amplify the visions of fledgling female filmmakers, and Emma Holly Jones has delivered her first feature with Mr. Malcolm’s List along with an all female producing and writing team. So, there’s lots of reasons to support this film!

Bare: You mentioned in our studio that you are trying to use clean everything, especially lippies...are there any all-natural beauty products you’re especially into lately?

ZA: You’ve just introduced me to Pacifica, which I’m already obsessed with! Their coconut cream deodorant is amazing, it’s not sexy to talk about deodorant necessarily but so many of them are toxic and can cause chemical build up in that very vulnerable area near the breast. I’m loving their vegan lip oils—actually really pigmented and so moisturizing at the same time. Grown Alchemist is also a new favorite. Their hand cream is so rich and comforting, which is still needed with the hand sanitizing! All their bath and body range is delicious. It feels nice to start the day as cleanly as possible and forgive yourself if you potentially go downhill from there

Bare: You have great personal style. Has it been challenging getting dressed/styled for red carpet events now that your body is changing?

ZA: That’s very kind. I will say that it was a rude awakening to find that red carpet maternity dressing is pretty much nonexistent. I felt very lucky to have Sabina Bilenko, a couture house who’s ethos I really believe in, support me for the special night. I’d love to contribute to an initiative that can plug the gap in that market in a sustainable way.

Bare: And finally, please list your top 5 Bare essentials.

ZA: Pacifica Glow Stick Lip Oil in Crimson Crush; Fenty Beauty Cheeks Out Freestyle Cream Blush in Petal Poppin; Milk Makeup Kush Fiber Brow Gel; Kevyn Aucoin Stripped Nude Skin Tint, and Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk Mascara.

#zawe ashton #the bare magazine #interview #article #beauty/makeup

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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago

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I need a very loving Laszlo smut, either top or switch with him, take it any direction you want, any build up, any kinks. But I just... my soul needs this V I need to see this man happy and satisfied

Coming Back Home [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, mild victorian dirty talk)

Author’s note: I am weak to see this man happy, my mind went a bit overboard, but I just couldn't hold it back, to see him happy and fulfilled in all his means, professional and private. Thank you so much for feeding my obsession and being my supporter @cazzyimagines <3

The cold air hit him as a welcome back in the moment he exited the carriage, he was back in New York after six months of study and hard work in Wien, he hated and loved it: he learned a lot and got the chance to talk with some of the best alienists in the field granting himself some valuable resources and upcoming publications, the city was amazing and romantic. But all day, every day, he was with his mind on the life he left here, on you and your baby boy waiting at home patiently, easing his pains with letters and little colourful sketches, reassuring him that he would come back to the same house he left.

It was late, he could see the light in baby’s room was off already and it pained him to be late for the goodnight story.

The driver dropped his belongings beside the door with a huff before taking his money with a big thank you.

Laszlo nodded, a sense of tension taking over him, what if something indeed changed? What if you hate him for leaving for his own interest? Will his son remember him?

The silliest questions took over him and he just rang the bell before the spiral would take over and make him sleep in the garden out of his imaginary shame.

Stevie opened the door and his face lighted up instantly, Laszlo’s hand moved close to his own face with a finger up to signal him to keep quiet. The young lad nodded opening the door more, but a loud whine came out of his lips when he saw the heavy trucks beside Laszlo.

“Stevie? Who is it?”

Your voice vibrated through the walls enveloping Laszlo like a distant memory and a fresh breath of air at the same time.

Stevie mumbled something “Nobody Madam, only some funny head playing with bells at night” he said as Laszlo nodded at him.

He left the coat at Stevie with his gloves and hat making his way to the bedroom upstairs trying to be as quiet as possible, your vanity the first thing that appeared to his sight, he shifted lightly so he could spot your figure reflected in the mirror without being seen.

You were already in your white night dress, hair down wrapped in a braid that rested on your shoulder, his own dark blue night gown draped over you making you appear even smaller, a book resting in your hand, the other hand toying with the fabric of his gown. A soft sigh left your lips and a little smile, you are liking the book. You turn the page with your features lighting up by interest, he felt almost guilty to interrupt you.

“Guten Abend, my love”

Your head shot up, eyes wide in surprise, a smile growing on your lips as he walked inside the room revealing his presence. A sense of nervousness still on him.

“Laszlo” you called rushing to him, discarding the book and throwing the covers onside, closing the distance between the two of you by jumping out the bed like an excited child. Your hands wrapped quickly around his neck, you pulled him in, lips clashing against one another. He smiled in the kiss, eyes a bit teary as the happiness you were able to blossom into his chest since the first time he met you was still there. He cupped your cheek with his left hand, the kiss being long and followed by little short ones, and then again a long one.

“You should have told me” You whispered and he smiled at you noticing how you also got a bit of tears streaming down your cheeks, but all due to happiness. You picked his right hand kissing it lovingly, oh that ritual of yours, that mindless action you always did to kiss the part of him he despised the most.

“Welcome home, my love”

He smiled widely, so wide he felt his cheeks and jaw hurt, while he leaned his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying it. Your little telepathy thing, like he could pour his thoughts to you and vice versa.

In the meanwhile Stevie kept himself far from the two of you not wanting to interrupt or witness anything he shouldn’t. Laszlo pulled back from that position as he stared down at you, your eyes met again as you gulped down a little, his eyes travelling onto your neck as none of you seemed able to pick what words to let out first, too many informations gathered in six months that letters couldn’t covert.

His eyes raising up to yours, you moved first guiding his right hand still safe in your grasp inside that warm robe hiding your body, his fingers meeting with the obscenely thin fabric of your night dress, the shape of your breast clear under his touch, his thumb brushing over your nipple earning an immediate reaction from you.

His breath itched, his tongue wetting his lips as you kept supporting his weak arm while his hand discovered once more what hidden treasure was the body of his wife.

His left hand undoing the silky bow around your neck that kept that useless piece of clothing closed, your breasts being exposed as he leaned his head down lacing his lips with you nipple and giving it a tempting suck, his tongue roaming over it as a sense of home and comfort surged into his stomach, then he spoke and his hot breath against your wet nipple made you shiver.

“Have you done the exercises that I gave you?”

“No”

His eyes shoot up at you, a mix between the need to scold you and desire in them.

“I could do it only with your letters” you added.

“Not touching yourself enough must have been painful, exasperating, you could have brought yourself to hysteria”

“I know, but I was waiting for this moment”

He smirked, the idea to be a vital part of your sexual expression turning him on immensely.

“Which letter was your favourite?”

“The one where you described your fingers inside me, I could imagine it so clearly while I was doing it to myself”

He almost let out a groan only by the sound of your words, the need to go knuckles deep inside you now almost impossible to hold back as the image of your distressed figure rolling onto the sheets trying to emulate that pleasure he only can give you clouded his mind.

His left hand almost angrily undoing the fabric belt the nightgown around your waist before moving behind your back to pull it off your shoulders, you gently let go of his right hand helping him in the task, your hands now tugging his jacket, his waistcoat, beginning already with his shirt buttons, you were so in need, but he was the same. He tugged his shirt off probably ripping off some buttons, the urgency you both felt filling the air.

His eyes trying to take in all your figure as you finally let go of that white dress.

“Oh, meine Frau, no statue or artwork or inspiration I have seen in this travel equals your beauty” he groaned as he felt like he almost forgot how he worshipped your body, how your only presence triggered obscene desires through him.

There was almost a moment of suspense before he leaned his warm body against yours, skin on skin again.

His erection already brushing over your lower stomach as you guided him onto the bed with you laying down for him. “Laszlo” you were about to beg him not to make you wait, not to tease you but his left hand fingers were already between you legs and a yelp of pleasure left you lips immediately.

“Soaked wet without me even touching you”

He was so pleased, you didn’t need to look at his face to know, but you whimpered when his long finger pushed inside you, he knew it, he knew exactly how to touch you, how to manipulate all of you. His lips laced to your neck, he sucked on it, bit it, hickeys soon will follow the passage of him. He is back.

To see your own neck pale and empty from his marks pained you everyday, but now he is at home and there won’t be a single centimetre of you spared. Another moan followed as his mouth found your nipples again, your legs trembling as a second finger joined the first one making you gasp for air. The ultimate pleasure approaching in you too quickly, abnormally quickly, but you missed him so much and six months without his care on you was a torment.

His prideful smile gave you the freedom not to restrain your pleasure, your hips jolting up and trembling, more wetness gathering on his fingers before he pulled them out knowing that it would make you feel empty.

He punished you with distance as he sat down on the bed, you crawled over him, legs still feeling like jelly as you forced yourself to straddle him. You didn’t need to rest, you wanted him to bring you to exhaustion and he knew it, he knew you won’t wait anymore. So you aligned him with your folds, his hard cock opening his way into you easily thanks to your recent orgasm, a loud growl leaving Laszlo’s lips.

“My wife, it appears to me that you’re back being a virgin after only six months away from me”

You blushed because his words made you sensitive and proud in a very peculiar way, you moaned slowly beginning to ride him as he kept muffling how tight you’re pressing his forehead against your chest, his left arm wrapping around you. You voiced your pleasure freely, fingers tangling to the back of his head, now it was your turn to guide his pleasure, to set the rhythm, but the pace was slow and deep, the desire still feverish in you, but the closeness inspiring you tenderness.

“How horrible to rest in the cold Wien without you, how empty to walk without your presence” he spoke directly to your chest, to your heart “every achievement was not an achievement if I couldn’t share it with you” he confessed, his hot breath against your breasts.

“You’re back now, next time we will come with you”

You smiled as his eyes shone looking up at you “my wife”

He loved to call you that, he always did, the pride in his voice when he asked you to be his wife the first time came back to your memory. You didn’t need many nicknames, wife and husband, the holy duo, the balance, the symmetry.

“I love you, my husband”

You moaned against him, his fingers digging into your skin, his right hand settling over your hip.

You couldn’t guess how much it lasted, you impaled deliciously yourself over him, he loved to stare at you going on your own on top of him, love it, express fully your feminine power. His left hand teasing your clit sapiently mimicking your movements making it nauseatingly perfect, your mind clouded by pleasure. He cursed, he growled biting onto the side of your breast when filling you up and gaining another moan from you, he held you down as he kept rubbing your clit until he felt your walls clasp deliciously around him, he still didn’t want to move.

He loved to see you helpless, washed over by pleasure, legs jerking aimlessly and fingers pulling onto him and his hair.

You didn’t take time to recover from that second orgasm, his skilled fingers knowing their ways around you, you bowed your head joining your lips again, you still couldn’t believe it.

“I am such a lucky man to have you”

You smiled kissing his forehead “I am lucky with such a husband like you”

You stayed like this, hugging, the time to talk will come, the time to exchange gifts and come back to routine. But not now. After countless minutes you slowly shifted from that position, freeing his hard on from you but slowly moving beside his sitting figure staying on your all fours, the braid that held your hair almost completely loose.

“Come my husband, you only had one orgasm, I know you love even numbers”

The next morning the light from the window hit his eyes, he frowned stirring as he blinked tiredly. Your figure tangled to his in bed, the covers over the both of you. He kissed your forehead out of habit, the marks already forming on your neck made him proud, your regular breathing and gentle perfume mixed with the sweat of sex made his senses alive. You felt him move and woke up pretty easily, probably due to have slept alone for so long. You smiled at each other, no words yet needed, a soft kiss placed on each others lips.

The a soft sound, more like little sounds following one another, little feet rushing down the hallway.

“Mama” being whispered by a very shy boy, his clear brown hair peaking up from the doors.You smirked covering Laszlo completely with the duvets.

“My baby” you said sitting up holding the covers over your body.

“Mami!” He gasped surprised “what happened to your neck?”

“Oh, it is normal my baby, is it so late?”

He nodded and you smiled as he hopped on top of the messy bed, Laszlo smirked from underneath the covers, it seems like somebody took a habit of sneaking into the big bed.

You smiled as your boy resembled so much his father, he crawled to move to your lap and that’s when Laszlo sat up with a loud “Who’s in my bed?” holding his hand up like a claw.

The boy squared but soon threw himself against his father’s chest.

“Apa visszatért!!!” He shouted so loud at you like you didn’t notice Laszlo at all and you chuckled finding the two of them so adorable.

“I am going to get some breakfast done” you said willing to leave them their space. Laszlo nodded at you as you wrapped yourself into your dress and then the thick nightgown. You could hear them talk softly, Laszlo was all about speaking to him in his mother’s language but also in German, so your boy was always mixing the three. “Have you being a good master of the house while I was away?” “Yes Papa, I have been extra good and mommy was happy too, but it is not like when you’re here” Laszlo’s little chuckle won you over even by distance. You had to learn Hungarian through Laszlo, even if you were lucky enough to know German already. But how sweet it was to learn along with your boy.

“Little Andrea woke you up, mrs Kreizler?” The cook, a very nice and good hearted woman asked once you reached the kitchen still wrapped in your night clothes and redoing your braid.

“He did, but his father is back, I couldn’t detain him in any way” You assured as you instructed about the breakfast to make something special. When everything was ready and settled you saw the two of them coming downstairs together, Andrea holding his father’s weak hand into his, still babbling in German to him. The two of them still in their night clothes, you loved to be unruly with them, half of the world outside would be shocked to see a family have breakfast in their night clothes, but who cares. You sat all together as Laszlo begun narrating about his travel, Andrea almost forgetting to eat as he sat down staring at his dad with shiny eyes like he could disappear any time.

“Andrea, at least the juice” you said and he nodded vehemently in particular after you whispered something to his ear.

“Do you have secrets with me?” Laszlo inquired with a smirk, his messy hair a blessing in such bright day.

“Always had” you said with a smirk and he chuckled softly before standing up and leaving for a moment coming back with some boxes.

He handed his boy one and two to you, while Andrea was busy unwrapping the gift Laszlo moved behind your sitting figure “open the small one first”

You obeyed quietly as the box was clearly hinting it was jewellery, inside you found some white gold and blue sapphires earrings.

“Laszlo, you ..” He shushed you softly “come on, wear them for me, jewellery over night dress, a new fashion from Europe” He joked softly but you obliged his wishes putting them on, Andrea making happy cheering sounds as he found the model train of his dreams. The earrings dropped beautifully on you, framing the new Laszlo loved so much “I knew only a Venus like you could sport them” he said making you blush, he always spoke in a way that made you feel like courting never ended.

“What about this?” You asked about the second box and Laszlo smirked just gesturing you to go on. Inside there was a study for a portrait, your portrait, clearly inspired by the picture Laszlo had with himself of you.

“I met this young painter in Wien, a bit struggling with money but extremely talented as you can see, a craftsman that works with gold, I invited him to come here next month and work on your portrait, he fell in love with your figure already, I already know I will have to guard your safety.”

“What is his name?”

“Oh, he is not famous, Gustav Klimt”

“Well, we can make him famous then” you said and Laszlo just smiled more as you kissed his lips to thank him for the beautiful gifts, knowing Laszlo he probably had way more hidden in his trucks “I knew you’d say something this kind of sweet”

“Mama, you look beautiful” Andrea called you staring like he was waiting for you to say something and you smiled nodding “yes, now it is the perfect time”

“For what?” Laszlo asked as you took his hand guiding him to the living room.

“Please, take a sit now” you said slowly guiding him to his armchair, the comfort of the familiar place relaxed him, the fresh flowers in the vase, the books laid on the table.

“Andrea has a surprise for you” you said leaning to sit on the arm of the chair looking up a his confused face, but he was unable to let go of that smile creeping on his lips.

“Come inside darling” you called “we are ready”

You took Laszlo’s right hand guiding it on your lap, the curiosity already eating him alive as little Andrea came holding his little violin, still looking extra cute in that night dress that made him resemble some cute baby penguin. He puffed his chest blushing as you gave him a nod of encouragement, Laszlo’s eyes shining to see his son like this and the chemistry you two have.

“I have learned this piece to welcome you back home” he announced as his shaky voice betrayed a bit his nervousness.

He placed the violin carefully onto his shoulder resting his cheek on it, your hands holding Laszlo’s while tapping with you finger to keep the tempo for Andrea. The melody was simple, but quite impressive for such a young player, Laszlo was unable to look away from his son, from the way he relaxed while playing, for the way you clearly helped him to gain the confidence to do this little performance.

He looked up at you as you two shared that look of complicity.

Life was bright over Kreizler’s household.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #the alienist x reader #the alienist fanfic

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Crush

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,349 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Crushes, Fluff and smut, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Manhandling Summary: Hotch has had a crush on the new member of his team for as long as he can remember. He keeps his distance, but he knows everything about her—her favorite snacks, how she takes her coffee. They share a room on a case, and at first, he's nervous, but being around her is comfortable, and he longs for more. Is it possible she feels the same way about him? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below!

Aaron has a crush on the newest member of his team. There’s no use denying it, or trying to compartmentalize it and pretend it doesn’t exist; it’s inappropriate, irresponsible, and just plain stupid, but he can’t talk himself out of it no matter how hard he tries. He is completely infatuated with her, whether he likes it or not.

And he does like it, sometimes. Sometimes, she will catch his eye on the jet, or in the office, shoot him a soft smile, and his heart beats fast, his chest feels warm. He thinks, I might never get to be with her, but she does think of me, and that’s something, at least.

Sometimes, he hates it, especially times like these, when they’re all on the jet and Morgan is using every ounce of his charm and charisma, the easy smile he doesn’t think twice about flashing, to try to get her to go out on a date with him. She hasn’t accepted the offer yet, and he’s been trying for about five months, almost the entirety of her career at the BAU, but that doesn’t make Aaron feel any better.

He knows Morgan very well. He’ll convince her eventually, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he’ll think about the two of them together all the time and never be able to stop. It will take his (mostly) innocent crush to a darker place, a place of anger and jealousy he’s not proud of, but has no control over.

“I would take you on the most incredible date of your life, mama. Dinner, dancing, a moonlit stroll; we go out for a couple of drinks, maybe I'll try to steal a kiss...”

“Maybe I’ll punch you in the face...” she says with a smirk, but he knows flirting when he hears it, and her threat carries no weight. Morgan shrugs, grins.

“Maybe, but I can take a punch. You need a man, and I am fully prepared to be that man; one little love tap won’t stop me.” She raises her eyebrows, looks over at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, first thing’s first: I don't do love taps, I do right hooks, so don't tempt me. Second, I don’t need a man, I want a man, and not just any man will do. When I want something, I want something specific. If I want dessert—”

Cherry cheesecake, Aaron thinks. He’s seen her order it three times, is slightly obsessed with the sound she makes when she takes the first bite.

“—I want cherry cheesecake or nothing. Not chocolate, not strawberry. If I want a glass of wine—”

Pinot Grigio if she wants white, Merlot if she wants red—she almost never wants red.

“—I want Pinot Grigio or nothing. If I have to have red, I’ll order Merlot, but I won’t be happy about it. When we’re on a case and I can’t sleep, and I come out to stare at the vending machine for a midnight snack—”

She either gets peanut butter crackers, or barbeque chips. That’s an easy one. Morgan has to know that.

“—I’ll get barbeque chips, or peanut butter crackers, or nothing. I am uncompromising when it comes to the things I want. So, Derek Morgan,” she says with a smirk, and a bit of attitude; it only makes Morgan smile brighter, and Aaron refrains from rolling his eyes, “when I want a man, I want a specific type of man, and I won’t be worn down no matter how many times you ask me out.”

“And what specific type of man do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone is paying attention to their conversation, even Aaron, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

“Well for starters, a man. You’re acting like a guy right now, and I’m not interested in guys.” JJ says ooh, burn, and everyone laughs. “I want a man who knows who he is, even if who he is isn’t pleasing to everyone. I want a man who isn’t afraid to feel vulnerable, who can be tender, who doesn’t run from a situation just because it makes him emotional. I want a man who pays attention to me when it counts, not just when he wants something. I want a man who will respect my boundaries,” she says, a little pointed, “who will help me grow but not try to change me. Most importantly, I want a man who can handle me, and I don’t think you can handle me.”

Aaron blinks hard at that. He’s pretty certain he could handle her, absolutely wants to.

“Alright, I can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, and it’s obvious you know what you want,” Morgan says, palms up in surrender. “Let me know when you find the lucky guy—man—so I can warn him about you.”

“Baby, I am the warning,” she says with a wink, and Aaron shifts in his seat.

It’s going to be a long flight to California. When they get to the hotel, JJ hands out the room assignments as usual, and he’s very surprised when she hands her a key out of the envelope marked 313, and then does the same for him. JJ shrugs.

“They didn’t have any singles, I guess. We’re all doubled up.” The other woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder, looks up at him.

“Is that a problem? I promise I won’t disturb you,” she says with a smile, and he shakes his head and, hopefully, his nervousness.

“No, of course it’s not a problem. Thanks, JJ. Looks like we’re this way,” he says, guiding her down the hall.

Their room is a little cramped, but clean, and he takes the bed closest to the door, sets his bag on it. She walks past him, throws her bag on the other bed and puts her hands on her hips, stares down at the ground. It takes him a moment to understand why.

“We could probably move your nightstand against the wall, share the one in the middle.” She looks up, confused, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You need room to lay down your yoga blanket, right? I know you’ve mentioned before that it helps put you to sleep when we’re traveling.” A brilliant smile curves across her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out. Thanks.” He moves to help her, but she lifts the table easily, tucks it in the corner between the desk and the lamp. She rolls out her blanket, pulls an outfit out of her bag. “I’m just going to get changed, and then the bathroom is all yours; I’ll be out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, and he means it; she just nods and smiles again, ducks into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Her outfit is… it’s tight, for lack of a better description, a strappy sports bra and patterned leggings; she does a lot of bending, and stretching, and balancing, her body strong and sleek. He tries to go about his business, but he can’t stop looking.

Once he’s finally able to convince himself to look away, lest she get suspicious of his inactivity, he changes his clothes, takes off his watch and sets it beside his gun, badge, and phone on his side of the nightstand. He pulls out his tablet to get caught up on the news, and it’s actually kind of comforting, the soft hum of her breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He doesn’t realize she’s finished until she walks around between the beds, grabs her badge off the nightstand and slides her credit card out from behind her photo ID. “Heading to the vending machine; need anything?” she asks, and he shakes his head—he already brushed his teeth—earning one of her soft smiles.

She grabs her key, slips out the door, and returns a few minutes later with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of peanut M&Ms—his guilty pleasure. She tosses them onto the bed beside him, and her lips twitch, and she strolls into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

He eats his M&Ms and does not imagine what she looks like wet.

Ultimately, he’s happy she was so thoughtful to bring him a snack, but that does mean he needs to brush his teeth again. The bathroom door is open, steam wafting out, so he figures it’s safe to enter while she finishes getting ready for bed. She’s standing at one of the double sinks, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, brushing her teeth, and he steps up beside her and prepares to do the same.

It’s pleasant, companionable, the familiar sounds of scrape-scrub-spit, and then she washes her face with some foamy, herbal scented concoction he couldn’t begin to identify. He washes his with soap and a little hot water, and she cringes; he frowns.

“What is it?” he asks, toweling off. She hesitates a moment, then flicks open a blue bottle, squeezes a bit of cream into her hands, and lifts them toward his face, pausing with a question in her eyes. He swallows, but leans in closer, and she rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“Soap like that isn’t good for your skin, not even for guys, and I figured you don’t moisturize. This stuff is unisex, and it will keep you looking young and fresh and handsome; you can have this one, I’ve got more.” She pulls back, washes her hands, and he’s left kind of dazed, longs for the feel of her hands on his face again. That was an unexpected, but very welcome, thing. The next morning, he’s up early, so he showers and gets dressed and then heads down to the lobby for some coffee and a paper. He grabs two cups, stacks them in his hand when he goes to unlock the door to their room; she is awake when he returns, freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and she takes the coffees from his hand before he spills them everywhere.

“Thanks. The one on the left is for you; two sugars,” he says offhand, grabbing his cup and setting it down on the nightstand, flipping open the paper. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the nightstand, doesn’t notice her smile, but she settles on her bed across from him, sips her coffee, and reaches up to pull the sports section out from between his fingers. He maybe cracks a smile of his own. That evening, they get back to the room a little cranky, another late night full of dead end leads, and she skips yoga and heads straight for the shower. The blissfully hot water feels good against her skin, and she thinks about touching herself, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, not with Hotch just outside the door.

The thought only makes her hotter, but still, she refrains.

When she’s wrapped up in her towel, she pushes open the door like the night before, starts brushing her teeth, and it’s not long before Hotch fills the space beside her, copying her actions. She washes her face, and he washes his with soap again—so, so wrong—but at least he uses the moisturizer she gave him afterward. Baby steps.

He leaves the room, and she follows him out to grab her pajamas, sees a bottle of water and a bag of barbeque chips laying on her bed.

Enough is enough, she thinks. She wasn’t sure, until they shared this room, but now she’s 100% certain that Hotch has a thing for her, and she’s harboring her own thing, which is stupid. If she wants him (she really, really does) and he wants her, why aren’t they naked already?

Thankfully, that’s easily remedied. She drops her towel, and Hotch looks up from his tablet, drops his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about last night; how shy you were about our sharing a room. It made me wonder if you’re shy about other things, too.” She walks around her bed, stands between them, presses her fingers to his tablet to push it down, out of his hands. “Are you shy, Hotch?”

“No,” he says roughly, making no effort to conceal the way his eyes sweep over her naked body. She’d blush, but she’s not the blushing type.

“No?” She climbs up, settles in his lap—he’s tenting his boxers already and it makes her feel awesome—and his hands fall to her thighs, spread around him, squeezing roughly. She moans, rolls her hips slowly. “Do you think you can handle me, Hotch? I’m kind of a lot.”

He answers with his hands, grabs her face and pulls her down for a long, dirty, messy kiss. Her chest is heaving by the end of it, and she’s definitely leaving a wet patch on his underwear, she’s so fucking horny. He tips her back, so she’s laying against the sheets, tugs off his shirt, and drapes himself on top of her, tilts her head to the side so he can get his mouth on her neck.

“Oh my god, mmm,” she sighs as he sucks on her throat, grinding his clothed dick against her, and she moves her hands down to sweep them over his body, but he grabs them, pins them up by her head instead. “Fuck, Hotch.” It leaves her mouth as a trembling gasp, and he looks up at her, his eyes dark and hard; he growls out a command for her to stay—she’s sure as shit not going for a damn stroll any time soon—and leans up, pushes his boxers down, and flips her body over.

She’s laying a little sideways, kind of lined up with the bottom corner of the bed—it always makes her feel like a complete whore to fuck anywhere but right up against the pillows, so this alone is enough to get her super hot. He gets both broad palms on her ass, squeezes her hard enough to hurt (and damn if that doesn’t make her pussy drip) and then slowly slides his fingers over her slit, making her toss her head back and groan.

“Oh, yeah. So, so good,” she sighs as he rubs her, spreads her wetness between her lips, over her clit and her mound so she’s sticky and soaked and begging for more, and then he plants his hands on either side of her and thrusts in so hard she has to dig her fingers into the sheets or she’ll go skidding off the bed. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, clutching for dear life as he slams inside roughly and deeply, but so slow it’s almost torture.

“So how am I handling you?” he asks, low into her ear, leaning in to press his chest heavily against her back, rolling his hips and grinding where he’s seated deep. He pulls out almost all of the way and then slams back in so quickly her whole body stutters forward, and her head’s empty, no thoughts but my boss is fucking me and my boss is fucking me good.

She just pants in reply, and he repeats that motion over and over, fast, nearly withdrawing just to fill her until his balls slap against her; she feels filthy, and amazing, and a little pissed it took them this long to do this, and she comes screaming his name, yanking so hard at the bedding that she pulls the fitted sheet right off the mattress.

He keeps pumping inside her, and she clenches around him, moans. He grunts, leans in to nibble her ear. “That’s my girl. Can you handle me?”

“My god, yeah.” She wants to, at least; she’s never been fucked this good in her life, so she’s honestly not sure how much she can handle. It’s always the quiet ones, she really should have known.

“Trust me on this,” he whispers, and she does because she does; he puts his hands on her arms, pries them off of the bed and moves her forward, guides her hands to the floor to support her so she’s half off the bed, her ass up. She’s strong, and he knows she’s strong, but she’s not sure she’s strong enough for this because he just fucking destroyed her and her legs are still shaking. “Trust me,” he coos again, and he shifts up, gets one foot on the ground, holds tightly to her hips, and pounds into her fast and hard, short thrusts that have her moaning and groaning and coming a second time before he even comes once.

He does come, though, just after, and she’s glad she’s got an IUD because if not she’d be leaving here fucking pregnant, no doubt about that.

“Hotch,” she gasps, daring to reach an arm back to touch him, and he pulls her up, lays her back, and kisses her, smoothing his hands all over her body. “Jesus. That was incredible.” She cards her fingers through his hair—he’s breathing heavy too, looks as dopey and pleased as she feels, which makes her smile. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the last few months. Thought you didn’t notice me much,” she says softly, and he laughs, incredulous.

“Didn’t notice you? All I do is look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She grins.

“Yeah, no, I got that. I figured that out; sorry it took me so long.” He leans in for a kiss, softer and slower, and she gets a little horny again, isn’t sure how that’s possible. “Why’d you stay away so much, if you liked me?” She’d done what she could to get his attention, smiling at him, brushing up against him when she could make it look innocent enough, but he’s always been the picture of propriety, maybe even a little distant.

“Morgan,” he says, making a face like he realizes how silly that was. “He’s been trying to ask you out and I figured you’d say yes eventually; he’s confident in ways I’m not. He’s a lot of things I’m not.”

“Yeah, that’s true, and I like you both for the ways you’re different, but his pursuing me has always been a game. A joke. He’s like a brother to me and he knows it. All in fun,” she says, and then he looks like he feels really silly. She leans up for a kiss. “All's well that ends well though, right?”

“Has this ended well?” he asks, a question in his eyes, and she runs her hands over his arms, his sides.

“If it’s up to me, I’d say this doesn’t have to end at all.” He puts a hand in her hair, kisses her deeply, passionately, and brings a few fingers to rub against her clit. She inhales sharply, licks her lips, and sinks back against the bed. “Oh my god, Hotch.”

“That’s right, baby. I’m your man,” he breathes into her ear, and she groans. Yes, he fucking is. The next morning, she goes to the lobby to pour their coffee, grab a paper to share. She passes Morgan—not a morning person—who grumbles a greeting and then does a double take.

“Whatcha got on your neck there, sweetheart?” he asks, and she grins privately, then schools her expression and turns to face him.

“What? Oh, that,” she says, poking at the purple hickey from the night before. “I’ll cover it with makeup later; needed my coffee first.” He blinks a couple times like he's missing something, frowns.

“Did you go out last night after we got here?”

“Nope, jumped in the shower and went straight to bed,” she replies, which is actually the truth. It just wasn’t her bed. She didn’t say anything about sleeping.

“Then who…?” It’s then that Hotch brushes by them, reaches out a hand for his cup.

“One sugar, one cream,” she says as she passes it over, and they both smile. Morgan knocks his cup over and spills coffee all over the floor.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #ask #request #crush #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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citrinesparkles · 3 years ago

Text

cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

#citrine writes #i promise i have a plan #jason todd #dc #imagines #dc imagine #dc imagines #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #sigh.

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yanderes-galore · 2 years ago

Note

yandere model crushing on his sweet fashion designer. you’re just so kind and eager to make new outfits for him to model, how could he not fall in love! you also understand thats he’s a bit more mean and stoic than others, and don’t judge him.. he just appreciates your kindness so much!

You're just trying to make a living and what do you get in return? Your model obsessed with you-

Concept as not specified.

Yandere! Male! Model with Fashion Designer! Darling Concept

Possible Trigger Warnings: Yandere behavior, Unprofessional behavior, Forced relationship, Forced kiss, Implied creepy flirting, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Suggestive thoughts.

- There's no doubt the model who picked you out for the job is attractive to you.

- You're just so excited to see how he looks in the outfits you produce.

- This may make the model you chose interpret it as you falling for him.

- Sure, he's attractive but you need to get this job done as he is your client.

- Your model seems to have other plans.

- Your model is also stoic and can seem cruel at times.

- To many this makes him difficult to work with, except you.

- You understand the field can be stressful and you need to be on guard as a model.

- Fans can get a bit creepy....

- In fact, you may even take his personality into account for the outfits you make.

- He seems like a cool and stoic guy so you incorporate such a vibe into your outfits.

- Your model is surprised yet flattered by this.

- You don't resent him for his personality.

- You instead give him kindness and turn his personality into inspiration.

- You're perfect to him.

- His boss may get mad that he's fallen for his fashion designer, but could anyone really blame him?

- What if he kept things secret?

- You think your job is going well and you're making so much money, things are good!

- Then one time after a session, your model corners you.

- "Hey there, babe... you're always so considerate towards me in our little photo shoots. Why don't I return the favor with dinner?"

- Your model is utterly infatuated with you.

- You may be a fashion designer, but you certainly look like a model to him.

- He yearns for when he can kiss those lips...

- Roaming his hands down your body as you cling to him...

- His fantasies flow through his head when he looks at you.

- When you take up his offer on dinner you may find things a little awkward.

- He doesn't stop staring.

- He also always has that grin on his face with his cheeks dusted the lightest pink.

- If it wasn't obvious, your model has a thing for you.

- You're now eager to get dinner over with.

- Once it's done you go to exit the restaurant, just getting outside the door.

- Only for your model to grab your arm and pull you into him.

- "No one has to know about this, okay? We can keep this secret. I know it may seem unprofessional... I just can't stand it any longer. I need you and I know you need me too!"

- Your model then forces a kiss upon your lips, taking in the taste of your mouth before pulling away.

- Once you both go home, work becomes much more awkward.

- It's no longer smooth sailing.

- He always gives you a look, winking softly before chuckling.

- He's also been more moody towards his boss lately.

- You can't get the taste of him out of your mouth....

- You aren't sure what your future will be like after this.

- It's bad for business to be involved with your model.

- Yet it's not like he cares.

- You're his whether you like it or not.

- He's not willing to give you up even if you both lose your jobs, as long as he can love or have you the world can go to hell.

- "Who cares what they say? I love you, I want you, and I plan on having you, (Y/N)."

#yandere oc #yandere oc concept #yandere model

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Text

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty.

He scoffed, “Say it again.”

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his.

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers.

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.”

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck.

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen.

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you.

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?”

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way.

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close.

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you.

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest.

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim.

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you.

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled.

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

#the donut series #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #berry writes

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nordicpoppie · 3 years ago

Text

BTS reaction to their S/O being obsessed with something

Oh man this took a while to do, i started it Tuesday but i kept getting stopped by stuff happening around me ughh.

I also got bitten by my cat last Sunday so had to visit the hospital and now I’m on 2 antibiotics the next 5 days sobs.

Only good thing about this is the many ideas i have gotten for reactions C:

Anyways, if you have criticism or ideas for reactions / imagines feel free to let me know!

Jin

Entering the kitchen you saw Jin standing surrounded by dirty pots and pans. Gasping you quickly tried to stand in front of them to shield them from his eyes, but it was too late. Jin gave you a small glare while he sighed, the amount of washing up you’d have to do.

Jin didn’t necessarily hate what you were doing, he just hated the work that came after. Watching you cook and serve good food for him was a big joy. At the start of you living together, he had been the one cooking the most, so when he had to work longer hours he had gotten worried.

Maybe you couldn’t make your own food, so he had to make extra the night before so you’d have lunch and breakfast at the very least. However you surprised him when you whipped out your collection of cooking books and your apron.

Stepping into the kitchen like you’d always been there to use it, he could only stare as he watched you whip out pans and pots like a professional. At the start you cooked relatively simple meals. But as you got more and more confident in the kitchen you started experimenting more and more.

Experimenting also meant using more utensils which meant more cleaning. Jin sighed lowly as he was washing the pans and pots while you stood next to him drying them. You knew he was a bit tired from work and you having forgotten to clean the pans and pots didn’t exactly help.

Making up your mind you grabbed his hand, dragged him away from the sink and towards the couch. You made him sit down and told him to wait while you made him some cocoa. While Jin rested on the couch you finished cleaning the kitchen.

Crawling up on the couch you snuggled up to him while you watched a movie and enjoyed the food you’d made earlier.

Namjoon

Exiting the car Namjoon looked to your side of the car to see you excitedly jumping up and down. You’d gone to the water park and swimming hall where you’d meet up with some of the other guys and their significant others.

You had been trying to plan it out for weeks and after that was even more waiting time until the date arrived. You had been beyond excited as it had been ages since you’d last gone swimming. Namjoon knew you loved swimming and water parks as you hadn’t spoken of anything else the last few weeks.

Namjoon was very happy to see you so excited, but he was also a bit worried if you’d get hurt on some of the slides or sharp corners in the pools. You however entered the swimming hall with confidence, finally feeling in your right element.

As the others in your group got tired and hungry, you were left alone with Namjoon, who insisted he’d keep an eye on you despite you telling him it was fine. He watched as you splashed around in the water, moving like a fish.

Deciding it was a bit boring with Namjoon just watching you dove, swam towards him and jumped up splashing water all over him. At first Namjoon was surprised and didn't know how to react, but once he got his bearings he grinned and started running after you.

You spent the rest of the time chasing each other and splashing water. When you got home you were both dead tired, and nearly fell asleep on the couch after having eaten dinner.

Yoongi

Walking into the apartment Yoongi was surprised to see dirt stains on the floor and hearing grunts coming from the living room. Thinking something bad had happened he dropped the groceries and rushed into the living room, only to see you balancing a heavy pot and a giant umbrella plant in each hand.

Yoongi continued to stare at you while you continued your grunting and finally placed the pot and the plant down on the floor. Finally making his presence known by clearing his throat you jumped a bit in surprise. Turning around you grinned sheepishly at him, you knew he’d be unhappy with the soil and dirt stains around the house even if you promised to clean them up.

Contrary to the complaints you thought you’d receive you heard another sigh, followed by Yoongi walking over and grabbing the pot and plant. Following after him as he started walking you watched curiously as he took them outside on the balcony and placed them down there.

He then turned to walk back inside, probably to start putting the groceries he’d dropped in his haste away. Before walking inside he stopped, and turned halfway, telling you to call him or wait for him so you didn’t have to carry the big pots and plants yourself.

After Yoongi disappeared inside, you continued replanting the plant, while giggling at his antics. He acted irritated only to offer you his help, typical of him. Later that day when you’d finished replanting and sorting out your plants, Yoongi returned to help you put them back.

What he didn’t notice was that you stopped helping halfway and started recording videos and taking pictures. Now you had proof that Yoongi was really a big softie and not an ice prince.

Hoseok

Hearing a ping going off from his phone he reached over to check the new message. He and the other guys were in the middle of a dance practice and his phone had been going off for the last hour with ping after ping.

Finally having a break from the dancing he could check who was sending him so many mentions and messages. As he unlocked his phone he saw your name pop up, followed by another ping.

Opening the messages he saw they were full of memes, including one of his favourite memes. Chuckling under his breath he scrolled through the memes and messages you’d sent him. Yoongi looked over when he accidentally let out a small laugh at one meme in particular.

Quickly shooting a small apology to Yoongi he got back to the messages. He looked through the memes he had saved himself, the ones he’d kept hidden for an occasion like this. He knew you’d asked for a meme war with the messages, and he was going to give you what you asked for.

At home you were waiting for Hoseok to answer your many messages back. Suddenly hearing a ping - ping - ping going off from your phone you rushed to grab it finding that Hoseok had accepted your meme war. You knew he had dance practice so you knew it’d be a short meme war, but it was better than sitting in silence waiting for him to come back.

A few hours later you heard the door open while you were sitting in front of the tv. You rushed out to welcome him and to tell him you thought you’d won the meme war. Hoseok obviously disapproved thinking he’d won so you ended up having a tickle fight until you surrendered.

Jimin

Jimin entered the library as silently as he could. He was carrying a giant bag of books that he had to return after reading them. He glanced around the library searching for your eyes as you’d promised to look for new books with him.

When he didn’t see you he decided to just turn in the books and text you afterwards, you could be running late or you’d gotten stuck in your favourite corner of the library. While Jimin turned his books in, he didn’t notice the door opening again as you entered.

You sneaked over grabbing his shoulders, making him shout in surprise. You giggled while Jimin blushed as a librarian looked angrily at the both of you. Jimin in turn to your giggling also turned to stare at you trying to look angry despite his blushing.

As he finished turning his books in he grabbed your hand and dragged you off to a more secluded area to find new books. While you were browsing he turned around suddenly, making you stare surprised at him. In his hands he had a book that had been reserved for the last 4 months.

Whispering a woah you reached for the book however jimmin quickly pulled his hand back smiling victoriously at you. Grumbling lightly you knew you'd have to wait till he finished the book before you'd get to read it.

Luckily for you both, you spent a lot of time reading, so he'd finish the book in a week tops.

Taehyung

Taehyung entered the apartment and was surprised at how quiet it was. Usually you’d come running from whichever room you were in to greet him when he came home.

It wasn’t even late in the evening, so he suspected you’d either gone out without telling him, or fallen asleep on the couch. You had after all been very busy with assignments and had finally gotten a hard earned break from school.

As Taehyung ventured further into the apartment, stopping by the kitchen to grab a cup of cocoa, he heard low humming from his studio.

He’d thought you’d gone out as he didn’t see you on the couch or in the bedroom, but he didn’t think you’d be in his studio.

Lightly pushing the door open, he sneaked a peek at you. You were standing in front of a big canvas, filling it out with light colours. While Taehyung couldn’t see your face, he knew you’d be in deep concentration, especially considering you didn’t even notice him coming home.

He decided to leave you to yourself while he went to make some sandwiches for the both of you. He returned shortly after and lightly knocked the door, hearing a small gasp coming from inside. Moments later the door opened and you jumped out into his arms, thinking he’d only just gotten home.

So when he grabbed your hand and led you to the dining table you were surprised to see sandwiches ready for you. As you sat down Taehyung finally got a proper look at you. He saw you had paint on your hands and you’d somehow managed to get paint on your cheek. Reaching over he wiped it off with a wet towel piece while grinning at you.

He thought he was the only one who could be so captivated by painting to end up covered in it, but you’d proved him wrong.

Jungkook

You entered Jungkook's room and immediately noticed how dark it was. The only light in there came from his huge monitor where he’d usually be sitting. His chair was however empty, which was very unusual.

Grabbing your chance you rushed to sit in the chair, grabbed the mouse and opened your favourite game. You knew Jungkook would be back soon, he’d only just gone out to take a call from Jin who was nagging him (according to Jungkook at least, everyone else knew it was for the best) to stop playing so many games.

Hearing a small sound from the headphones that had been lying on the table your eyes focused back on the screen. The game was starting so you had to focus. You quickly grabbed the headphones, turned the sound down a notch and started playing.

What felt like 5 minutes later the door was thrown open and a seemingly angry Jungkook entered. He grabbed the headphones off your head, and started telling you how you were ruining his streak. Finally glancing at the screen Jungkook was surprised to see you had won almost all the rounds you’d played so far.

Turning to look at you with mixed emotions he grabbed you off the chair and pulled you to your feet. He then dragged you off to Taehyung's room, barging in like it was nothing. Taehyung looked surprised when Jungkook asked where his old computer was.

Quickly grabbing the computer Jungkook dragged you back into his room, shutting the door and moving you to sit in a different chair. While he opened the computer and prepared the game for you, you could only stare in surprise. You’d thought he was angry, but he just wanted to play with you.

Many hours later you were still playing with him, much to Jins disappointment.

#kpop imagines #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #bts reaction #bts #BTS jungkook #BTS jin #BTS jimin #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts hoesok #bts taehyung #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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nopefun · 4 years ago

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Interview #494: Ryan Frigillana

Ryan Frigillana is a Philippine-born lens-based artist living and working in New York. His work focuses on the fluidity of memory, intimacy, family identity, and visual culture, largely filtered through the lens of race and immigration. Embracing its plasticity, Frigillana explores photography’s relationship to context as a catalyst for thematic dialogue.

His first monograph, Visions of Eden, was published as two editions in 2020, and is held in the library collections of the MoMA, Getty Research Institute, and Smithsonian among others.

We spoke to find out more about Visions of Eden, his love for photobooks, and photography as a medium for introspection.

Lee Chang Ming Ryan Frigillana

Thanks for agreeing to do this! As we’ve just arrived into the new year, I want to start by asking: how did you arrive at photography and how has your practice evolved so far? Your earlier work was anything from still life to street photography, but your recent work seems to deal with more personal themes.

It’s my pleasure; thank you for having this conversation with me! Wow, looking back at how I’ve arrived at this point makes me feel so grateful for this medium, and excited to think of where it will lead me from here. I came to photography somewhat late. I was initially studying to become a nurse and was set to start a career in that field, but I found myself unhappy with where I was going. My mother was a nurse and I know what goes into being one; it’s not an easy job, and I respect those who do it, but my heart wasn’t in it. I found photography as a creative outlet during that stage of my life, and I’ve clung onto it ever since.

My first exposure to photography (no pun intended) came in the form of street and photojournalism. I would borrow books from the library a lot, consuming works by Magnum and other photographers working in that tradition. At the time, it was all I knew so that’s what I tried to emulate. Even early on in my undergrad career, these modes of creation were reinforced by curriculum and by what I saw from my own peers. My still-life work branches off of that same sentiment: the only names that were ever thrown around by professors were Penn and Mapplethorpe, so that’s who I studied. Thankfully over the years, I’ve been able to broaden that perspective through my own research. Though I don’t necessarily pursue street or constructed still-lifes anymore for my personal work, I’d like to think my technical skills (in regard to timing, composition, light) owe a debt to those past experiences.

I suppose now I’m starting to explore how photography can be used as language, to communicate ideas and internal conflicts. I’m thinking more about the power of imagery, its authorship, its implications, and how photographs have shaped, and continue to shape, our reality. That’s where my work is headed at the moment.

I liked how you mentioned photography as a language, which calls into question who we are speaking to when we make images and what kind of narrative we construct by putting photographs together.

In your work “Visions of Eden”, you trace your family’s journey as first-generation Filipino immigrants in America. I was quite struck by how you managed to link together original photography, archived materials and video stills. To me, with the original photography there was a sense of calm and clarity, perhaps in the composition. But with the archived material it was like peering through tinted glass, and the video stills felt like an unsteady memory. What was the editing process like for you and how did you decide what to include or exclude?

For me, editing is the hardest part about photography. Shooting is the enjoyable part of course because it can feel so cathartic. Sometimes when I shoot it feels almost like muscle memory in the sense that you see the world and you just react to it in a trained way. But with editing, it’s more of a cerebral exercise. More thought is involved when you have to deal with visual relationships, sequence, rhythm, and spacing, etc. The real creation of my work takes place in the editing process. That’s where the ingredients come together to form an identity.

When creating this identity, I not only have to think about what I want to say, but also how I want to say it. It’s like speaking; there are numerous ways you can communicate a single sentence. How are images placed in relation to one another? How large are they printed, or how much white space surrounds it? Are the images repeated? What’s on the following page? The preceding page? Is there text? How are they positioned on the spread? All of these little choices impact the tone of your work. And that’s not even mentioning tactile factors like paper stock or cover material. I think that’s why I have such a deep love for photobooks because 1) they’re physical objects and 2) someone has obsessed over every aspect of that object.

I’m aware that my photographs lately have a quiet, detached, somewhat stripped-down quality to them. I think that’s just a subconscious rejection of my earlier days shooting a lot of street where I was constantly seeking crowded frames and complexity in my compositions. As I’ve grown older, I realize less is more and if I can do more by saying less, that’s even better. Now, the complexity I seek lies in the work as a whole and how all these little parts can form something fluid and layered, and not easily definable.

For Visions of Eden, I wanted the work to feel somewhat syncopated and wandering in thought. That meant finding a balance between my quiet static photographs and the movement and energy of the video stills, or balancing the coldness of the illustrations with the warmth of the family snapshots. The work needed to be cohesive but have enough ambiguity for it to take life in someone else’s imagination. Peoples’ lived experiences in regard to immigration and religion are so complex that they can’t be narrated in any one definitive way. Visions of Eden, hopefully, is a rejection of that singularity.

Yes, there’s definitely something special and intimate about flipping through a photobook! For your monograph, you recently released a second edition which is different from your first (redesigned, added images, etc.). Why did you decide to make it different? Was the editing mainly a solitary process?

The first edition was a partially hand-made object. Illustrations were printed on translucent vellum paper and then tipped into the gutter of the book. When you flip through the pages, those vellum sheets would overlap over certain images, creating a collage-like effect. That was my original concept for this book. Doing this, however, was so laborious and time consuming, and not to mention expensive! Regretfully, I wound up making only twenty copies of that first edition. I wanted the work shared with a wider audience so that’s why I decided to publish a second run.

The latest edition is more of a straight-forward production without the vellum paper. With this change in design, I had to reconfigure the layout. I took liberties in swapping out some images or adding new ones altogether. Also, a beautiful afterword was contributed by my friend, artist, writer, and curator Efrem Zelony-Mindell. I still feel so fortunate and grateful to have had my work seen and elevated by their words in my book.

For the most part, yes editing is quite a solitary process for me. But there does come a point when I feel it’s ready, where I share the work with a few trusted people. It’s always nice to have that outer support system. Much of Visions of Eden was created during my time in undergrad school so I had all sorts of feedback from peers and professors which I’m grateful for. But in the end, as the author, you ultimately have the final say in your work.

Given that Eden is a starting point and metaphor in the work, I was thinking about ideas of gardens, (forbidden) fruit, and movement of people.

How do you view yourself in relation to your place of birth? In your series, I see the most direct links in the letters, old photos where tropical foliage is present in the background, and the photo of the jackfruit (perhaps the only tropical fruit in this series).

I came to America when I was very young, about five years old. For my family and for many other families still living in the Philippines, America is seen as a sort of ideological Eden: a land of milk and honey, of wealth and excess. We all know that’s far from the truth. Every Eden has a caveat, a forbidden tree. Which leads me to ask: as an immigrant living in this country, what fruits were never intended for me?

I honestly don’t remember much about my childhood in the Philippines aside from fleeting memories of my relatives, the sounds of animals, the smell of rain and earth, the taste of my grandmother’s cooking. The identity that I carry with me now as a Filipino is not so much tied to the physical geography of a place but rather it is derived from a way of life, from shared stories, in the values we hold dear, passed on from generation to generation. This is a warm flame that lives on in me to this day as I write these words thousands of miles away from where I came.

Photographs have a way of shaping our memory and our relationship to the past, which in turn affects how we engage with the present. The family photographs and letters used in my book act as anchors in a meandering journey. They serve as landmarks that I can return to whenever I feel lost or need assurance so far away from “home”. They give me the comfort and affirmation that I need to navigate a space where I never really felt I belonged. The spread in my book that you mentioned—the jackfruit on one side, and the Saran-wrapped apple on the preceding page—was a reference to my duality as both Filipino and American. It’s a reminder and an acknowledgment that I am a sum of many things, of many people who have shaped me. If I flourish in life, it’s because my roots were nourished by love.

I like how you mentioned photos as anchors or landmarks. Isn’t that why we create and photograph? To mark certain points in our lives and to envision possible futures, like a cartographer mapping an inner journey. Do you feel like you and your relationships with those you photographed changed through the process of making your works?

When my parents took pictures of our family, it wasn’t done solely in the name of remembrance; it also served as an affirmation of ourselves and our journey—a celebration. Every birthday, vacation, school ceremony, or even the seemingly insignificant events of daily life were all photographed or video-taped as a way of saying to ourselves, “Here we are. Look how far we’ve come. Look at the life we’ve made. And here’s the proof”.

Now, holding a camera and photographing my family through my own lens still carries all of that celebratory joy, but with so much more possibility. Before I really took photography seriously, I never realized its potential as a medium for introspection, but that’s ultimately what it has become for me. In taking pictures of my family, I not only clarify my own feelings about them, but the act of photography itself informs and builds on my relationship with each person. The camera is not a mere recording device, but a tool for understanding, processing, and even expressing love...or resentment. Though I may not be visible in my pictures, my presence is there: in my proximity, my gaze, my focus.

Does all of this impact my relationships? Absolutely. Photographing another person willingly always demands some degree of trust and vulnerability from both sides. There’s a silent dialogue that occurs which feels like an exchange of secrets. I think that’s why I often don’t feel comfortable photographing other people unless we’re very close. Usually my family is open enough to reveal themselves to me, other times what they give can feel quite guarded. That’s a constant negotiation. After the photograph is made though, nobody ever emerges the same person because each of us has relinquished something, no matter how small.

Being self-reflexive in photography is so important. I agree it should be a constant negotiation, but it’s something that bothers me these days – the power dynamic between the photographer and photograph, particularly for personal and documentary projects. More significantly, after the photograph has been made, who is really benefiting. But I guess if we are sensitive to that then perhaps we can navigate that tricky path and find a balance.

Right, finding that balance is key and sometimes there are no clear-cut answers. That power dynamic is something I always have to be mindful of. As the photographer, you are exercising a certain role and position. At the end of the day, you’re the one essentially “taking” what you need and walking away. There’s an inherent violence or aggression in the act of taking someone’s picture, no matter how well-intended it may be. This aggression carries even greater weight when working, as you say, in a genre like documentary where representation is everything.

I remember an undergrad professor of mine, Nadia Sablin, introducing me to the work of Shelby Lee Adams—particularly his Appalachian Legacy series. Adams spent twenty-five years documenting the disadvantaged Appalachian communities in his home state of Kentucky, visiting the same families over a long period of time. Though the photographs are beautifully crafted, they pose many questions in regard to exploitation, representation, and the aestheticization of suffering. He is or was, after all, an artist thriving and profiting off of these photographs. Salgado is another that comes to mind. This was the first time I really stopped to think about the ethics of image-making. Who is benefitting from it all?

I think the search for this balance is something each photographer has to reckon with personally. Though each situation may vary with different factors that have to be weighed, and context that must be applied, you can always ask yourself these same ever-pertinent questions: am I representing people in a dignified way, and what are my intentions with these images? Communication (listening), building relationships, acknowledging your power, and respecting the people you photograph are all foundational things to consider when exercising your privilege with the camera.

Well said! The process of making photographs can be tricky to navigate yet rewarding. Any upcoming projects or ideas? What’s keeping you busy these days?

Oh, let’s just say I’m constantly juggling 3-4 ideas in my head at any given time, but ninety percent of the time they don’t ever lead to anything finished haha. This past year has been tough on everyone I’m sure. I’ve been dealing a lot with personal loss and grief and the compounded isolation brought on by the pandemic, so for months I’ve been making photographs organically as a subconscious response to these internal struggles. It’s more of an exploration of grief itself as a natural phenomenon and force—like time or gravity. Grief is something everyone will experience in life and each of us deals with it differently, but in the end we have to let it run its course. I see these photographs as a potential body of work that could materialize as a zine or book one day, so we’ll see where that goes.

Other than that, I’ve been working on an upcoming collaboration project with Cumulus Photo. Speaking of which, I saw your photograph featured in their latest zine, running to the edge of the world. Congrats on that! It’s beautiful. But yeah, just trying my best to keep busy and sane, and improving myself any way I can.

Thanks! Looking forward to your upcoming projects! Last question: any music to recommend?

I feel like my answer to this question can vary by the week. I go through phases where I exhaust whole albums on repeat until I get tired of them. So I’ll leave you with the two currently on my rotation: Angles by The Strokes, and Screamadelica by Primal Scream.

Thank you for your time!

Thank you for a lovely discourse. I had a lot of fun!

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#Ryan Frigillana #nope fun #new york #photographer interview #artist interview #Contemporary Photography #Visions of Eden #PhotoBook

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