#i’m so excited she’s gorgeous and i’ve had a crush on her for years!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunofpandora · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF

P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.

But yeaaa have a good day/night :)

Authors note:

Hi babes!

So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.

V I R A G O

Part 1.

The Day the Sky Turned Red.

8.7k words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲��/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenx under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?

Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)

Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school.

Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/

I think that’s it?

Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)

(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner))

Super important note for the request sender:

Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,

Not proofread

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.

To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’

3 years ago.

Day the sky people returned.

Y/n is 15-16

The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.

That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother.

That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others.

That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.

That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.

Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.

They grow when they are deprived of light.

But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places.

That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.

Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight.

Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?

To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?

Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.

Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.

But did it belong in your hands?

Your father would say,

“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”

The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.

Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”

A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.

You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.

Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.

Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds.

Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.

Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame.

But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?

When the embers refused to settle.

You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.

Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.

Nothingness was never a threat.

Not when the promise of warmth remained.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n met grief when she was only a child.

When she was 15, the RDA returned.

The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood.

Gray and red were never a pretty combination.

The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise,

Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.

The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned.

When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames.

You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.

Her body stained with red.

You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.

You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer.

People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.

The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live.

In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.

Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.

Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.

Emptiness no longer infatuated you.

The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.

Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.

Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body.

Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.

Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.

All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.

To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies.

Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier.

Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.

Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.

A small carved arrowhead.

Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.

Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.

Tuk gave a small flower.

Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.

Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.

Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.

All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.

He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies.

You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man.

You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were piece of yours.

You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips.

His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.

You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone.

You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.

This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.

To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.

He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.

Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.

So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.

He was not yours.

Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe.

There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.

Grief was a funny thing.

You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.

Staring at yourself with pity.

Such a weak thing she is.

Sobbing.

What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.

You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.

Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?

Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path.

Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?

What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black.

You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth.

Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.

⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆

Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.

You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.

She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.

She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.

Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.

Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My sweet”

Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.

“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”

She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,

“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”

He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.

But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.

“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.

Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you.

“What are you saying?”

It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.

“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”

The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment.

“I’ll be fine on my own-“

You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.

“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”

He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.

“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”

The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.

Neytiri kisses your head gently.

“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”

She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.

“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”

The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall.

The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.

Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.

“He told me to protect the people.”

The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.

“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira.

I have let the demons take another from me.”

The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.

She took a breath and gazed at you.

“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.

The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.

Jake nodded.

“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”

The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.

Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.

“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”

Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,

Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.

“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”

She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.

Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.

You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.

You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.

When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.

Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.

Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.

Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.

Why did the colors go away?

Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?

“Y/n.”

You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.

Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.

“Neteyam-

Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”

Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.

He gently touches your arm.

“I’m sorry, truly-

What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-

Did someone-”

You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.

“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-

I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”

Neteyam cuts you off.

“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”

The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.

You huff and lean against the tree bark.

“I just needed air.”

Its small and muttered.

A shaky breath left your lips.

“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”

Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.

The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.

“Teyam?

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”

As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.

He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.

He glances at you, then back up at the sky.

“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”

You pause for a moment, looking over at him.

“A circle?”

He nods.

“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.

My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”

He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.

“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”

You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.

So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”

His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, and he nods at you.

“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“

“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”

The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.

“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”

Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.

You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.

“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.

I want them to be the ones who fear us.”

There was a new found devotion in your heart.

A bitter song of fire and desolation.

Vengeance.

Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.

That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.

Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.

“And so you will..”

No.

Don’t.

I don’t want to loose you in the fire.

But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“I have something for you.”

He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.

He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.

“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”

You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.

“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”

He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.

“It is for you. Not for your loss.”

His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.

For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.

“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.

Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.

The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.

He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.

“Oh it’s beautiful…”

Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.

“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”

He smiled at the memory.

You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.

You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.

“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”

You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.

“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”

You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.

How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?

No my dear Y/n.

It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.

His circle.

His spiral.

You were the center.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓

Years later….(y/n is now 18.)

(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)

Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.

Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.

“Remember the plan.”

Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.

“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”

You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.

“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”

You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer.

“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”

You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”

“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”

You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time

You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks. The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.

Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts.

You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.

Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.

She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.

For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.

Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.

You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.

You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot.

The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.

Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,

You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.

‘Drop’

In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.

Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.

The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.

The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.

They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.

Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.

But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.

Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.

The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.

He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.

To Neteyam, you were made of fire.

Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.

Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.

He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.

He knew you were angry.

He was angry too.

He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.

He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.

At first, he thought it was jealousy.

The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.

Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.

He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were “too important” to be fighting.

Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.

Were you better than him?

Stronger than him?

Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?

As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.

He knows its love. It must be.

It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.

He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin.

You haunted him.

“Bro!”

And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.

Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.

The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.

Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.

Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.

His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.

“Bro! We have got to get down there!”

Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.

“No way! Dad will skin us!”

Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.

“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”

The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.

“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”

Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.

He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.

“C‘mom bro!”

“Lo’ak!”

“Lo’ak come back!”

Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.

“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”

Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,

Neteyam came to a halt.

“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”

Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.

“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.

“I’m sure he did-

Let’s go-“

He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.

“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”

Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.

And then you saw them.

“Son of a bitch!”

You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.

Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)

Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.

“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”

The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.

Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.

Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.

Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.

Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.

I guess we’ll never know.

Lo’ak spoke for him.

“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“

You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.

“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”

You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.

“Bro let’s go!-“

The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.

“Gun ship inbound!”

Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.

“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.

As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run,

“Come with us, now!

Go-!”

He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.

The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,

“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.

A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.

You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb.

Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.

You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air.

You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body.

Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.

Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.

Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.

“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!��

Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.

He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.

A bracelet?

Your bracelet.

It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.

“Shit! Y/n-“

Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”

Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.

“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-

The blast-“

Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,

“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”

“But sir-“

“That’s a direct order!”

Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.

The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.

“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.”

You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.

The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.

You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.

You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.

“I’m sorry-”

You mumbled.

“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”

The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓

When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.

Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.

Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.

You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.

Tuk gasps

“Y/n! You're alive!”

She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.

“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”

You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.

Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”

You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.

She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.

You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.

Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.

A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.

“Tsmuke, (sister)

You are awake.”

Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.

She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.

“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“

You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.

“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”

She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.

As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.

Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.

You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.

It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.

It was well after hours.

Everyone should be asleep.

Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?

Was it a sky demon? An animal?

You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.

“See? I told you she was okay.”

It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.

You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.

Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.

He was your family. Your ride-or-die.

Your right hand.

It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.

Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.

Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.

Spider was a bit of a different case.

As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.

Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.

She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.

But she was kind.

She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.

Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.

Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.

She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.

You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.

He cried when your mother died.

You think he might have cried more than you did.

Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.

You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.

When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.

You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.

The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.

“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”

Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.

You whacked him with your tail.

“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”

Spider groaned,

“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-

And now one took a picture for me!”

Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”

You flushed, shoving him away.

Spider laughed, standing up.

“I can only imagine-“

He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.

“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”

You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.

Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.

Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.

“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”

Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.

“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”

Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.

You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.

The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.

You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.

The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.

You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.

You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.

Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.

It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.

It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.

The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.

The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him

You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.

Alas the stars did not align for you.

Not tonight.

You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.

Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.

The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.

You groaned.

“Spider did you forget something again?..”

When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.

“”Neteyam?..”

authors note:

I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s serving left and right. We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹

-Sol

Jan 2024

“Virago” series, chp. 1.

Taglist:

@plooto

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neytiri

360 notes · View notes

natalievoncatte · 1 year ago

Text

This was it, the moment of truth. The plan was going flawlessly, and in a few minutes, Lena would have what she needed to complete and launch Non Nocere. She was about to save the world.

(You mean your master plan, Lex’s voice snickered in her head)

Lena shook it away, as she had so many times already. When Kara glanced at her, Lena played it off as the cold. She was, after all, standing outside in the actual Arctic, brutally aware of how underdressed she was even in a heavy woolen coat and doubled up leggings.

Even here at the roof of the world, Kara was gorgeous. The sunlight glared off the ice and yet it only seemed to make her more radiant, her sun kissed skin practically glowing, blue eyes the color of the sea darkened by a distant storm.

“I’ll never understand why your cousin built this place here,” said Lena.

“He didn’t. There was an ancient Kryptonian outpost here from long, long ago, when my people were more expansionist. They abandoned any plans to colonize other solar systems thousands of years ago.”

Lena looked at her, damning her own curiosity. Kara, for her part, looked far away.

“Why?” said Lena.

“They decided they’d done enough damage to their own world.”

Lena blinked. Turning away, Kara inserted the key into the locking mechanism and unleashed a series of heavy grinding sounds as the doors parted.

Within, it was warmer.

(At last I walk these hallowed halls, a conquerer)

Not by much, though.

Lena drew in a breath and looked around, allowing herself a moment of unrepentant awe. The ceiling arched high overhead where the crystalline walls joined to form a peak, giving the Fortress of Solitude the air of a great cathedral. This gave a reference to the statue of a handsome man and beautiful woman, pressed side by side with joined hands and expressions of fear and hope as they gazed off into some distant star.

“That’s Jor-El and Lara, my aunt and uncle.”

Superman’s parents, Lena thought.

“Don’t your family have statues?”

“Kal-El created the memorial,” said Kara. “He didn’t know about my family until I told him.”

Lena huffed.

“I have a hologram of my mother,” said Kara. “It’s really just a computer interface. She doesn’t… I remember them in my own way.”

Kara cleared her throat, and Lena saw tears welling up in her eyes. A twist of pain turned in her stomach and her hand fell on Kara’s shoulder.

(That’s it. Play to her emotions. Use them like she used yours.)

“I hate this place,” Kara whispered.

Lena pulled her hand back.

“Why?”

“I thought I’d be excited to show you. There’s just so much I’ve always wanted to share, but this place is a tomb. When I’m in here, it’s like home, but not. It’s just a reminder of everything I’ve lost, and it makes me feel sick how much I want to go back.”

“Of course you want to go back,” said Lena. “It was your home.”

Kara let out a low, shuddering breath.

“It was, but it’s not anymore. I’ve lived on Earth now longer than I did on Krypton.”

She was looking up at the statues, or past them, perhaps. Lena couldn’t help but study her profile, the curve of her jaw and the soft lines of her face. How could someone who could crush coal into diamonds with her hands and kill with a glance be so angelic?

(Such an innocent face to hide such betrayal)

Lena swallowed, trying to still herself and tamp down the sympathy she felt.

“I envy him.”

“Who?”

“Superman. My cousin. He’s so lucky. He only gets the good part, the blessing from my uncle and the special heritage. For him, this place is joyful. It’s the answer to all his questions and full of strange wonders and joys. He tries to mourn them but how can he mourn something he’s never known?”

“I’m sure it must be sad for him, wondering what they were like.”

“He never knew them to disappoint him, either. It want his father that created Medusa. Sometimes I just wish I could forget it all. This place reminds me I don’t really have a home.”

Lena turned to her sharply.

Kara sighed. “My home is still out there. Argo, I mean. It’s basically a new Krypton. I could go if I wanted. Kal is there with…” she trailed off.

“Lois,” Lena added. “I pieced it together pretty quickly after you told me your identity. He’s Clark Kent, isn’t he?”

“You’ve always been too smart,” said Kara, and she sounded so genuine, so admiring, that it made Lena briefly wish she didn’t have to do this. That it had been real.

“I can’t go back there. I can’t be part of that society anymore, where people don’t get any choices in what they do, or…” Kara looked directly at Lena, dragging out the pause a beat too long. “Who they love.”

“What do you mean?”

“On Krypton, we had what I guess you’d call arranged marriages.”

“So you’d never have been able to be with Mon-El.”

“I wouldn’t have been allowed to choose him, no,” said Kara, “though thinking back, really thinking about it, I don’t think I would have in the end.”

Lena looked at Kara, who still stared up.

“Why?”

“We were only together because…” she let out a long sigh. “Because I don’t have a home anymore, not really. I can’t go back to my own people and I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you have a home, Kara,” said Lena, lightly touching Kara’s arm.

“You’d don’t know what it’s like,” said Kara, choking back a small sob. “No matter what path I take I have to kill part of myself. I can’t be Kryptonian and human, no matter how hard I try. The Kryptonian side keeps taking things away from me. I can never be my whole self with someone.”

Lena swallowed.

“Just look what it did to us,” said Kara, turning to Lena. “I almost lost you because of it, because of the lies I let myself tell.”

“Kara,” Lena lied, “I’ve forgiven you. We don’t have to re-litigate this.”

“Maybe you have, but I’ve never apologized to you properly. I’ve just been trying to smooth it over and fill in the cracks and I know how hard you’ve tried but it’s not enough for me to just let you do all the work.”

“Kara…”

“I was such an asshole,” Kara said, and Lena blinked. In any other circumstances, she’d have made a joke and chided Kara for her unusual profanity.

“I mean about the Kryptonite, but about other things, too. I shouldn’t have treated you one way while I was in the suit and another way when I wasn’t.”

“I’m still not sure which one was real,” Lena blurted.

(No! No, what are you doing? You have to make her think all is forgiven so she’ll take you to the armory!)

“They both were,” said Kara. “I was angry about the Kryptonite, and I was scared. I admit it, Lena. As much as I trusted you then and I trust you now, I didn’t know what to think. My best friend was making a poison that only hurts me.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” said Lena. “If I’d known…”

Kara swallowed.

“I know.”

“If I’d known, I would have come to you about Sam. I would have come to you about a lot of things, Kara.”

Kara tried to blink back tears and failed. Something about seeing her cry openly while wearing the suit made her seem so small and delicate.

“I wish I could be human,” said Kara. “I wish I could just be the person you thought I was and we could just be us.”

(Us? Lex snarled. You’re nothing more than a dog to her, that can be put down when she’s done with you!)

Lena’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes.

“You know, when I was fighting Red Daugher, Lex’s clone of me…”

Lena looked at her sharply.

“I… I couldn’t beat her. I was losing. She… she killed me. My heart stopped. I was gone.”

Lena choked out a soft sob, unable to restrain it.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I knew I couldn’t go. I had so much to stay for. I don’t know how I did it but I dragged myself back from the other side, I just… I thought of Alex and J’onn and all my friends and everything I have to live for, everything here, on Earth, my home. Even that wasn’t enough.”

“What was?”

“You,” said Kara. “I couldn’t go without making amends with you, or at least trying. You’re my lodestar. I’ll always come back to you eventually.”

(She’s just trying to keep you in line. It’s a lie. It’s always a lie, she’s all lies!)

“I’m glad. I need someone around to safe me from assassination attempt number 547,” said Lena. The joke turned to sand in her throat, her voice on the edge of breaking.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to think of a magic combination of words that will make it better, but there isn’t one, is there? I can only tell you how sorry I am that I did what I did and promise I never will again. I’m so sorry I hurt you. It’s the worse thing I’ve ever done.”

“Kara…”

(Just let her trust you. You’re almost here. Myriad is here. The answer is here. Fuck her sentimental bullshit. She-)

Kara slowly reached out and caressed the back of her fingers against Lena’s tear-stained cheek.

“It’s crazy how dying made me realize so many things.”

“Like what?”

“All the things I never knew I wanted to do, until I knew I’d never do them.”

Lena swallowed, hard, fighting the urge to lean into her hand and press the warm skin to her own.

“Like what?”

Kara leaned in, filling Lena’a space, and Lena was acutely aware that she was the only warmth in this frozen place. Kara’s other arm swept around her, Kara’s fingers spread wide across Lena’s back.

“Is this okay?”

(No! NO NO NO!)

“Yes.”

(You can’t do this! You killed me, Lena! You killed your only brother for her and she’s a liar and a-)

Kara kissed Lena the way she did everything: Fully and completely. As Kara drew them together, Lena tipped back just a touch, as Kara seemed to tower over her, surrounding her in a warm embrace. Their lips met softly, chastely. Lena felt like she was in middle school again. It was as if she’d been rewound back to before her first clumsy, lip-pinching kiss in a boarding school bathroom.

She wasn’t sure whether it was Kara who deeepened the kiss, or her. In the end, it didn’t matter. Kara escalated by degrees, pausing as if to murmur an apology at any moment. Lena grasped her like was the only solace in a raging storm, feeling those steel cable muscles flexing beneath her suit.

Then she squeaked in Lena’s mouth when Lena grabbed a handful of ass, and Lena giggled.

“Do you want this too?” said Kara.

(You killed me!)

Yes, Lex, and I would again.

“Yes,” Lena admitted, and it was as if some great heavy weight had fallen from her shoulders.

She threw herself into Kara, shivering.

“It’s cold in here.”

Kara pulled Lena tight, wrapping them both in her cape.

“Let’s get what we came for and go home.”

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evensquirrellier · 5 months ago

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So track and field events for the Olympics start today and I thought that, in honor of that, I would make an appreciation post for all my favorite Team USA track athletes. Look, I know the Olympics have a lot of problems and I’m not typically the most patriotic person, but track is my everything and I really look up to a lot of these people, and I want to give them little shoutouts to show my excitement.

Here are some of my personal favorite USA track stars!!

1. Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone!!!

She is one of my biggest idols. For one, she is literally the world record holder in my event (400m hurdles), and two, she is a female athlete who is great and isn’t afraid to say it, which we don’t get enough of. Whenever I’m practicing hurdles I like to imagine Sydney having once done the exact same drills and it makes me kind of dizzy. One of my teammates went to the same high school as her (not at the same time) and has gotten to meet her before and I’m actually so jealous. Plus she is gorgeous and it breaks my heart a little bit that she is heterosexual 😔

2. Gabby Thomas

She is so cool. Like so cool. The 200m used to be my favorite non-hurdle race and she absolutely crushes it! You can see when she races how determined she is to win and how she will just go after the people in front of her and ahhh it’s so inspiring. Plus she went to Harvard and had a master’s degree? Truly winning at everything. Fun fact: my godmother was college roommates with Gabby Thomas’ mother, which gives us no real connection but makes me feel cool! Also she is also Gorgeous! I will probably keep saying that about a lot of these people and that is because one, I am a lesbian, and two, track is my favorite thing in the world.

3. Alexis Holmes

Idk I can’t really explain why I love Alexis so much, I really just do. The 400m is one of my favorite events, and particularly in indoor she does really incredible in that event. Very few women can run under 50 seconds in the 400 and she does it consistently. I’ve been following her career for a while and always route for her when she runs, and she’s overall just a really incredible athlete.

4. Sha’Carri Richardson

She is so cool!!! She’s getting a lot of attention right now for being in contention to win gold in the 100m, and she’s just really awesome. It is very cool to watch her run because she is such a powerhouse and always looks so happy when she wins. I looooove her nails, like a modern Flo-Jo, and I feel like she is very unapologetically herself interviews in a way a lot of other athletes aren’t. She’s awesome and I hope she wins <3

5. Nikki Hiltz

Thinking too hard about them makes me start tearing up I love Nikki Hiltz!!! Currently the fastest women’s 1500m runner in the US and such a treat to watch run. They have an incredible kick and is another one that gets so excited when they win. They are also one of the few professional track athletes to be openly non-binary and a lesbian, which makes my non-binary lesbian track athlete self feel really really happy, and has organized runs to support the Trevor Project before. Overall a really cool person.

6. Anna Cockrell

Anna! Another 400m hurdler, and one of the best in the world. It is really incredible to see how much she has improved over the years after already starting out so strong, and how she can still hold her own against the best in the world. She’s also done a lot of advocating for mental health awareness in athletics, and is super cool.

7. Grant Holloway

This is the guy my coach has me watch to study good hurdling technique. In terms of technical ability, he is one of the best hurdlers ever, and is currently one of the best 110m hurdlers in the world. He’s kinda tall for a hurdler and so am I, which I know is a kind of weird connection to make but it always makes me route for him a little more.

8. Noah Lyles

I know he’s kinda the talk of everyone right now, but Noah Lyles is pretty cool! He is currently arguably the fastest man in the world, and has a dedication to the sport that I find really admirable. It’s always cool to watch videos of him training because he does so many of the same drills I do, which makes me think I must be on the right track.

9. Anna Hall

Ahhh how could I almost forget Anna? She is an insanely good heptathlete and is world-class level in so many different events. Her best event is hurdles and her “weakest” (still incredible) is javelin, which is also the case for me in the hep, so I like to think that makes me just like her. She’s another one that just seems very enthusiastic a lot of time and it’s really nice to see her happy.

#olympics #paris 2024 #track and field #sydney mclaughlin #gabby thomas #alexis holmes #sha’carri richardson #nikki hiltz #anna cockrell #grant holloway #noah lyles #anna hall #trackposting

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deeznutzzzz24 · 2 years ago

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Only You - One

Chapter One: The Boy with the Black Hair

Warnings: smut, profanity, mentions of abuse, descriptive violence, protagonists hate each other, Jungwon is an absolute ass, both come from filthy rich families

Pairings: Jungwon x fem!bodied reader

Summary: It’s the summer of 98 and you could name a thousand places you’d rather be. Unfortunately, it’s rather difficult to think about anything when your nemesis is perched lazily in the hammock beside you, spewing empty insults in your ear in effort to get a rise out of you. Meet Yang Jungwon. Your Achilles Heel. While a four week trip through Bora Bora initially excited you, the realisation that your father’s business partners would be joining the trip was more than disappointing. Especially when you discover their arrogant ass of a son was to be accompanying them.

The cold air licks at my skin, tracing the outline of my collarbones with affection. Finding solace in my surroundings is not a regular occurrence, even so, I’m grateful for the peaceful silence that envelopes me from behind.

The air is calm, and the ocean seems to stretch on forever in front of me.

I sense a struggle beside me and as quickly as it came, the calm is gone.

“What do you want, Jungwon?”

The boy beside me groans, feigning irritation as he tries to look over my hammock. “I want you to move your annoying face out of the way, our gorgeous neighbours are trying to greet me and you’re blocking the view.”

I flip him off, casting a glance over my shoulder to have a look for myself.

Oh, they were trying to greet him alright. A massive Savarona passes by with slow acceleration, harbouring a flock of half naked girls waving over to us, or more specifically, to the boy beside me.

I take in the four blonde skanks flanking the deck as they giggle and call out for Jungwon.

I roll my eyes and turn my gaze back to the ocean. “If by gorgeous you mean made entirely of plastic, then sure.”

Jungwon scoffs, sinking back into his hammock with a smug smile. God, I hate his face. “I’ve never known you to be jealous type.”

“At least I didn’t beg my daddy to waste fourteen grand on a pair of lopsided titties.” Jungwon chokes on his drink, doubling over in laughter.

“Y/N!” My mother gasps, arm in arm with Jungwons mother, Julie, as they emerge from the corner. “Apologise immediately!”

“It’s no bother,” Julie chuckles, “Y/N is simply honest with her emotions. It’s quite refreshing.” She sends me a warm smile to which I quickly return.

Much to her disappointment, Julie’s family consisted only of her husband and her four sons, with Jungwon’s younger brothers being six and eight years of age, while his older brother Heeseung had just become a sophomore at Yale last spring. But everyone knew Julie always wanted a daughter.

It was no secret that I was the closest thing she had to one.

In many ways, I suppose she’s also the closest thing I have to a mother.

A real one anyway.

Ever so sadly for my parents, however, their dreams of having a son were crushed the second the doctors made it clear that I would be their first and final child.

My father wanted a son most, of course. But unlike my mother, he gradually developed a soft spot for me when I became infatuated with law at the age of seven.

Much to my misfortune, my mother detested the idea of having a daughter. She knew any female offspring of hers would gradually grow to be her competition.

You know how rich women are. They don’t like competition.

I suppose years of harsh pageantry had devoured any compassion my mother once had. Beauty can do that to a women.

Though it’s no secret I detest her entirely, I have a strange sense of admiration for my mother. She may be aged and envious now, but she was once ruthless beyond belief.

She grew up in the outskirts of New York, a young girl who was cursed to unbelievably beautiful and devastatingly poor. Her parents abused her, or so my father tells me. But you never know, some would assume a psychopath like my mother was born evil, not made.

Blinded by her obsessive perfectionism, my mother gradually taught herself that money was her only ticket to a better life.

And so, four months into her midterms, she came to one simple conclusion; eat or be eaten.

And so she ate.

Wealthy boys, smart boys, boys of power, boys of beauty. You name it.

She ate them all.

Although, unsurprisingly, she was simply never full. Insatiable they would call her, according to my father.

She didn’t want love, she wanted luxury. And that’s exactly what she got when she set her eyes on my father’s pressed Harvard uniform and 18k watch.

Some love story.

Speaking of love stories, I think back to the time I first met Heeseung and his dumb-as-fuck little brother.

I met them at our first combined Christmas dinner.

Jungwon was being a little shit, as per usual. Skidding across his fathers marble floor as his brother chased him through the corridors. I don’t remember much other than him receiving a rather hilarious scolding from his mother.

Heeseung, of course, was nothing like his younger brother. Calm, polite and incredibly likeable. I didn’t understand at first. How could someone so handsome, so relaxed be related to someone like Jungwon?

I wanted to scream.

Why….

Why couldn’t it be Heeseung swinging beside me?

But no, reality punches me square in the face and I’m back in my father’s yacht, back in my hammock, back beside Heeseung’s arrogant ass of a brother.

Our mothers remain fixed before us, one cruel and one kind, both impervious to my daydreaming.

Graced with elegance, as usual, they slowly continue on with their rounds, my mother giving me a stern glare as she rounds the corner.

I glance over to the hammock beside me.

Jungwon, as expected, is long since gone, leaving his empty hammock to swing in desolation.

I find myself sinking into a deep, beautiful dream where I push him overboard and smile as the sharks eat him alive, only to realise that I am one of them.

And like my mother, I shall eat.

____________

Authors note:

peace out motherfvckers lovely people

#jungwon smut #jungwonsmut #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #jungwon #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n

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avalil18 · 10 months ago

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Different but still the same

Summary: you and Joe see each other again at your parents barbecue and you both still have a spark.

Warnings: fluff, kissing

—————

Being back in Athens for the summer was really nice! It was only mid June and the sun was shining and no clouds in the sky. Your parents every year host a start of summer barbecue filled with neighbors, cousins, and friends and family all crowded in what little fenced in backyard.

You were getting ready in your bathroom curling the ends of your hair and putting final touches on your makeup. You were wearing black Jean shorts and a black short sleeve bodysuit. It snatched your waist perfectly with your shorts. You slid on your shoes and headed out your childhood bedroom after down with getting ready. Walking down the stairs you see your parents in the kitchen getting everything ready inside and outside. “Hey hon!” Your mom says. “Hi! How’s it going you say?” Your mom walks over to you and hands you a few plastic cups and says “good! But do you mind putting these out for me outside?” “Sure” you say. Once placing those out people started to arrive. Most of your friends are on vacation so it’s really just you and your parents friends who always integrate you about your love life and work which you don’t really love talking about. The only people you would talk to are the Burrows. Robin and jimmy burrow who have known you since you were 4 years old. They always thought of you as a daughter and love seeing you. You always feel like you could talk to them about anything. They have a son who of course is the towns most prized possession. Joe burrow the son of Robin and Jimmy and QB1 for the Cincinnati Bengals. You have had a crush on him since you were 6 years old but of course let go of it when you went to college. You still thought he looked cute and now more mature.

After a while more people start to arrive and you are so excited when you see Robin and Jimmy! “Y/n?” Robin exclaims. “Robin!” You say back as you go to hug her. “How have you been?”she asks. “I’ve been good! Working a lot!” You say as you also go and hug Jimmy. “What do you do for work?” Jimmy asks. “I’m a speech therapist for kids!” You say. “Y/n that’s amazing! I know you always wanted to work with kids!” Robin says. After a few minutes of catching up with the burrows something catches Robins eye. “Joe, over here.” She says and tells him to come here. You turn around and see him. Joe the person you had a crush on your whole childhood and is now standing right in front of you. “Y/n?” Joe asks as he goes and hugs you. “Hi Joe!” You say hugging back. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!” He says. “I’ve been good! Working you know!” You say smiling back. Just before Joe could answer back your mom calls you from the other side of the backyard to meet some new friends she meet at her club. “One sec mom!” You turn your head back to Joe and say “sorry,but catch you later?” He looks at your mom then at you and says “Yeah.” You brush his arm with your hand and give a warm smile before walking away.

Joes POV

She was just as beautiful as I remember. Y/n the girl I have been in love with since a little boy. Her smile is just as gorgeous as I remember and her laugh fills the air with love and joy. We haven’t talked in two years well some texts here and there but that’s really it. I think about her all the time. Which might sound a little weird but she made me who I am today. She taught me how to be myself and not care what others think. She taught me not to fight back and stay calm because let’s just say I didn’t always think before I did something. She was my best friend. We kinda just fell out of contact because of our different paths in life. I was so happy to find out y/n was back in Athens for the summer. I thought this is my chance to do what I’ve always needed to do. Tell her how I feel about her and that’s exactly the plan.

Back to present

Your mom and her friends talked for a while and you just stood there. You were was thinking about Joe.

After dinner everyone heads inside to watch college football. You have no interest in football unless Joe is playing. You decided to clean up the mess in the kitchen instead of watching. As you were wiping the dirty dishes in the sink you could feel a pair of eyes on you. Those ocean blue eyes just staring trying to figure you out. You didn’t look up and see joe knowing it would ruin the moment so you just continued cleaning. After a couple more dirty dishes put away you decided to step outside onto the back porch to get some air. You put your drink on the bug wood fence and just stared out into the backyard thinking about Joe again and how crazy life has changed. After a few minutes out there you hear the sliding door open then close. You knew it was Joe. “Hey!”he says. “Hi!” You answered back. After a few moments of silence you speak up. “So tell me burrow, how does it feel being in the NFL?” You smile. Joe laughs and says “it feels pretty good!” You both start laughing and just stare into each others eyes. “Listen y/n I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a really long time.” He gives you a look and you could tell he was nervous. “What I’ve been meaning to tell you is-” you both turn to the sound of the sliding glass door open. “Sorry guys, but y/n do you mind come saying goodbye to everyone. Oh and Joe I think your parents are leaving too.” Your mom says. “Ok” you and Joe both say. As you walk back in you say “so what is it that you wanted to tell me?” He looks at you and goes “oh! Don’t worry about it.” “Oh um, ok.” You say kinda confused he doesn’t want to tell you anymore. As you say your goodbyes to everyone Robin and Jimmy come give you a hung and they tell you that you are welcomed over anytime. You smile and say thank you. Joe gives you a little wave to say goodbye and you wave back and close the door. After cleaning up a little more you say good night to your parents and head upstairs. You shower and put on your pjs followed by putting on a crew neck and your glasses. As you are getting into bed you hear a thud on your window followed by another and another. You are confused on what is going on so you open the window. You look down and couldn’t believe who was standing on your lawn in pitch black. It was Joe. “Joe! What are you doing!”you say trying to be quiet. “Sorry, but do you mind coming down. I need to talk to you.” You contemplate going down and finally agree. You slip on your Ugg’s and head out side. “What do you need to tell me at ten o’clock at night Joey?” You ask. “What I’ve been needing to do for a long time y/n.” He pulls you into his embrace and wraps his right arm around your waist and puts his left hand on your neck pulling you into his lips. You are taken back for a sec but stay kissing him. You couldn’t believe it. You are kissing Joe burrow. The one you have had a massive crush on since you were a little girl. After probably making out for five minutes you pull back smiling. “that was a good answer, burrow!” You say. “Thanks!” Joe says. “Look y/n I have always loved you. I know we fell out of touch but I can’t stop thinking about you. You have always been the one for me. The one I want to wake up to every morning and the one I want to fall asleep next to. The one I want to laugh with and the one I want to cry with when I watch The Notebook. You’re the one I want y/n.” Joe says looking into your eyes filled with tears. You wipe his tears as tears begin in your eyes. “Want to hear something?” You ask with a laugh. Joe laughs and says “what!” I have always loved you too. Ever since we were six years old and you were teaching me how to throw a football. You have always been my person even when we didn’t talk. I would walk into a grocery store and find one of your favorite foods and think to myself “Joe would like that!” You laugh and say “I love you burrow!” And pull him into a kiss. As you were full on making out with Joe you both hear claps and cheers you look around and see yours and joes parents. They were so excited you guys finally confessed. You and Joe both looked at each other.

You and Joe just laughed and pulled each other in for a loving hug and faded into the night.

———————

Authors note: Ahhhhh so cute! They both found each other again yay!!! I will be posting a few more stuff these next couple days hopefully!🩷

#joe burrow #love

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azzie-mazzie · 17 days ago

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chattt are we getting a sweet sixteen bday haul... :3

OH MY GOSH YES!! it fully slipped my mind

if i’m going to be completely honest, i got a buttload of money. like, a LOT. while im going to put most of it into savings for my future and boring stuff like that, im using some of it to see CABARET ON BROADWAY!! i’m super super excited for that, as the last time i saw a broadway show was pre covid. i saw beetlejuice, almost full original cast (subtle flex). i live pretty close to nyc so im not rlly using that much money, but im still so excited. cabaret has been one of my favorite musicals for an incredibly long time. i also think the message is super important and relevant today with the ongoing war in ukraine. it’s especially important to me because im 50% ukrainian. i have family there, speak the language and am very close with my culture. so even though this sounds mildly stupid, i think the show needs more recognition in modern day society.

anyways, haul time!! spoiler alert, lots of jewlery!!

from my absolute best friend:

-a new pandora ring and necklace!!

i love them both so so much, the necklace is literally never going to leave my body. this is the same one with the draculaura doll. i love her more than life itself ugh she’s so amazing

from my childhood best friend:

-a pandora necklace with three charms!!

i honestly don’t know how/why i got so much pandora this year. i went from owning none to being decked OUT. i absolutely love this one though. it’s short and sweet, plus the charms are GORGEOUS.

- a cute bracelet!!

this one’s made with the prettiest green stone i’ve ever seen, i love it to pieces ugh

-FLOWER LEGO??

IM ACTUALLY CREAMING AT THIS. these i got from my crush (WHICH IS A SIGN.) Im also just horribly delusional but like ugh she’s so perfect.

- an axolotl squishmallow!!

so fun fact, i do not own any stuffed animals because it was an odd rule my parents had as a kid. I OWN ONE NOW THO AND SHES SO SUPER CUTE!! i named her galadriel after the lord of the rings character <3

i’m so so grateful for everything i got and how lovely and awesome and amazing my friends are!! hope you enjoyed the haul <3

#birthday #birthday haul #part 2 #16 #sweet 16 #this is a girlblog #girlblogging #mutuals #moots #08 #jewlery #squishmallows #i’m lowkey rich now

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abbysleftbicepp · 1 year ago

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Your ex is bothering you, and you're afraid of him, so abby handles him for you.

Thank u for the request!!

Warnings: sa, violence, alcohol use, angst, fluff, not proofread! lmk if there’s more that I’ve missed!!

It was 12pm on a Saturday night. You and the group were out clubbing to celebrate the start of your final year at college. Nora, Jordan, Leah and Manny had already left so it was just you and Abby, and the swarms of people in the club.

“Abs I’m gonna go grab another drink, you wait here for me okay?” You tell Abby before walking off to the bar and ordering yourself another drink.

“Hey baby..you’re looking gorgeous tonight. You got any plans?” Your ex, Michael, asked in a seductive tone. Your body froze, with your heart falling to your stomach.

You and Michael didn’t have the best history. He was very violent towards you when he didn’t get his own way, so you were scared to death considering the fact he had a hold of your body in this moment.

“I have plans..” you mumbled, trying to subtly tell him to fuck off.

“Cmon gorgeous girl..let me treat you better than I have before. I know you’ll like it..” he pried.

“Michael please..I’m not in the mood for this..” you try and hint to him to stop.

“Oh is that so? I could make you in the mood.” He said. Before he was able to do anything to you, you heard a voice yell.

“HEY! Get your filthy hands off of her before I knock some sense into you, big guy.” Abby threatened him.

“Oh really? I’d like to see you try, D*ke.” This set something inside of Abby off. She swinged her fist straight towards his nose, crushing it with her force. This caused him to let go of you, and hold onto his nose.

“You fuck!” He yelled before storming out of the club.

“Are you okay?!” Abby asked, worried for your safety.

“Never better.” You looked at her, shocked. Seeing her stand up for you like this set a fire inside of you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but it was still Abby. It was always Abby.

“Are you sure? You look shocked.” She asks again, holding onto your shoulders. You look her face up and down, glancing at her lips for a few seconds. She notices this and does the same.

“Abby-“ you whisper out before you both smash your lips into one another. You both had been waiting for this moment for too long. Years of friendship washed away as it grew into so much more in a matter of seconds. God knows what was gonna happen next, but to say you were both excited was an understatement.

#abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #modern au #no outbreak au #the last of us #anon ask #blurb #oneshot

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wildemaven · 2 years ago

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A Cut Above

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader

WC: 2680

Warnings: T; Mentions of food, divorce, lots of pining and fluff otherwise.

A/N: I wanted to write a Hairstylist!Reader story a few years ago, but l wasn’t feeling super confident about my writing and just never got around to it. In the last few months I’ve had this urge to get back behind the chair again, which is what sparked this fic. Still haven’t decided if I will get back into doing hair as of yet, but I can enjoy writing about it. This is not beta’d and hope it reads well cause I’ve been run low sleep. Enjoy!!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Next

“You done for the day?”

The question pulls you from your thinking. It’s an organized chaos of mental notes streaming through your subconscious.

“I wish. I have one more then I’m done. It’s a new client too. So I’ll be a bit longer.”

“Color?”

“No, thank god! I don’t think my feet can take another 2 to 3 hours more.” The day was filled with back to back clients— a typical Saturday in the salon. Your clients who worked long hours, were always filling up your Saturdays. “Just a cut. Benny made the appointment for him, said his friend was in need of a change— very vague about it”

“Mmm.. Benny.”

“Earth to Hannah!! Gonna need you to touch back down girlie.” Hannah was the salon receptionist, and Benny Miller’s secret admirer.

“Huh? Oh sorry, got a bit distracted.”

“You don’t say? You know, you could just ask him out, would probably be way more exciting than sitting there and daydreaming about him 24/7.”

“I do not daydream about him 24/7–“ She tries convincing you, but you know her far too well. You shoot her a pointed look— you’re not buying it. “Okay! Alright, I do think about him— a lot! But I can’t help it, he’s so…”

“Pretty?” You finish her thought.

“Yeah. He’s so pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that said Pretty Man Child Benny, might have an itty bitty crush on a cute little receptionist. So, put your big girl panties on and make a move.”

Benjamin Miller— Benny, was a long time client of yours, turned friend. He was in your chair every 5 weeks maintaining that gorgeous head of hair. Gotta look good for the ladies when I’m in the ring— his words.

As the years went on, you found you were collecting Benny’s friends and family as clients. His older brother Will, Will’s wife Nicole, his close friend Pope (still haven’t heard his real name), as well as Mom and Dad Miller. Benny kept your chair busy and you were grateful for that.

He’d text you on Monday saying he’d had a friend who was needing a cut, something about a fresh start. He was in luck because you had one spot open, so you scheduled some guy named “Fish” as your last client for the week.

“Wait really?! He knows who I am?!” Shock was written all over Hannah’s face.

“Hannah, you greet him every appointment— of course he knows who you are.”

“I think I black out the minute he walks through the door.”

“That would explain the drool every time.” You can’t help but laugh at her expense.

She rolls her eyes back at you as she gathers her things from the front desk. “Alright, I’m going to leave before you decide to carry on with this onslaught of nonsense. Going to go home and pour myself a glass of wine in celebration!”

“Celebration?? For what?”

“Benny Miller knows who I am! And he has a crush on me!!” You let her bask in her glory, as she all but floats to the front door.

“Hannah…” You catch her attention before she’s exits. “Text him! Preferably before the wine.”

“Yes mom!” She mocks back at you before the door swings shut.

You had 15 minutes until your appointment would be showing up, so you took the time to clean your station up a bit and set up for his hair cut.

Your shears, combs and clippers laid out on your hair cutting tray, clean cape folding on top of your station.

As you were checking over your schedule for next week, making a list of colors you needed to pick up from the beauty supply, the front door opened welcoming your client— your very handsome client.

He looks nearly 6 feet tall, and so broad. His hair is dark chestnut from what you can see peeking out from under his hat. There’s a casualness to him in the way he carries himself— a shy confidence.

“Hi! You must be Fish.” You give him your name as you make your way up to him, extending your hand out in greeting. His rather large hand gripping yours, firm but a gentleness to it.

“Did he really tell you my name is Fish?! Fuckin’ Benny.” He shakes his head, as if to fain off embarrassment. Shoving his hands in his pockets he starts laughing about it. “Yeah, he did. I am assuming that’s not actually your name though. Although, not judging if it is.”

“No, my name is Francisco Morales, but you can call me Frankie.” You notice the flush creeping up his neck— you make a mental note at how gorgeous he is before you get caught staring.

“Okay then, Frankie. You can come on back and have a seat here at my chair. Feel free to put your hat on my shelf there.” Helping him get situated.

“Let me go grab a clean towel and then we can chat about what you are wanting.”

Frankie sits himself down and starts to take in the space. You seem very tidy and organized as he glances over at your tray of cutting tools. He right away decides he likes that about you. Benny didn’t mention how beautiful you were when making him this appointment. He said you were pretty but he wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmed by how stunning you were— he knows he has to try his best to be cool and not ramble on.

He sees you making your way back to him in the mirror, his eyes locked on yours like magnets— he notices you catching him staring, but then you give him a smile that lights up your face. There’s that butterfly sensation tickling his insides, he hasn’t had that happen in a long time, but he welcomes it.

Arriving back to your station you take the small towel and place it on his shoulders before securing the cutting cape around his neck.

“So what are we thinking?” You ask as you begin to run your fingers through his hair, taking in the texture, density and the shape of the cut he has now.

“Uhh, I umm… I don’t know. I’m open to your professional opinion.” He didn’t realize he needed to come in with a style in mind. His usual barber usually says “Hi” then starts hacking at it.

“That’s okay.” You look at him in your mirror, his eyes already fixed on you and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

You hadn’t noticed his dimple earlier, and you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of it when he smiles. You steady your thoughts and continue to comb your fingers through his hair making note of how it lays and it’s natural growth pattern.

“You have a nice wave going on. If we work with it and bring your sides and the back in a little tighter the top will lay nicely.”

He’s captivated by everything you’re saying, and yet he doesn’t understand a single word of it. You could tell him he needed to shave his head and he’d willingly let you, no questions asked.

“How does that sound Frankie??”

“Honestly— I have no idea what any of what you just said means, but I trust you.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty.” You find his nervousness charming. “You won’t be losing much length overall, it will be more shaping and connecting the sides to the top.” Your hands moving around his head as you try to explain your process.

“Again— no clue what you just said.”

“Got it! Enough hair jargon then. Let’s get you back and washed up first.”

The warm water hides the sweat that’s formed on your palms as you begin washing his hair. He’s settled into the shampoo bowl, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest in such a kicked back manner.

Your fingers work diligently as you begin to scrub the soapy liquid through his wet locks. As you spend ample time working over his scalp, you catch the sound of a faint moan. You don’t think he meant for it to sound so erotic, but it’s stirring a warm feeling with in you.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm..” It’s all he’s able to manage, your movements awakening him in so many ways, his spine vibrating with an indescribable desire.

Suds throughly rinsed, leave in conditioner combed through, you both get situated back at your station.

He seems way more relaxed, more chatty and asking questions as you go section by section, meticulously trimming away the unwanted ends.

His questions alternated between your professional life and personal— where you grew up, favorite food and what made you decide to become a hairstylist. In a different circumstance, it might have felt invasive— but there was an ease to Frankie that had you spilling your life story to him so freely.

In return you asked him for more about himself. He shared about his life in Delta Force, where he had met Benny, Will and Pope, who you now know as Santiago.

His life as a helicopter pilot keeping him busy most of the time. He even felt brave enough to mention his semi recent divorce. You didn’t feel like you needed to delve deeper into his failed marriage, especially for only just meeting him.

You shared the same sentiment in working long hours and how it had you feeling overwhelmed at times, like you had less free time for yourself— mentioning you were working on trying to have more fun and go out. You shared how your former partners were always annoyed with you for being so consumed with work, the main reason you hadn’t been dating as much.

Checking and cross checking the length, you’re happy with how it’s shaping up.

“How do you normally style your hair? What are your go to products?”

He looks at you with the most sincere and confused expression, nervous to share his routine with you.

“Normally it’s just straight out of the shower, quick rubbing of the towel over it so it’s not dripping, then toss the hat on.” Pointing to the battered hat he’d worn in.

“Frankie! If there’s only one piece of advice you leave here with, please let it be that you never aggressively rub a towel over your hair again!”

He thinks he should feel embarrassed but there’s a sweetness in the way you share your knowledge with him— he will make a conscientious effort to gently pat his hair dry from now on.

“Since you mentioned you are usually throwing on your hat, it’s probably safe to assume there’s not much actual styling going on?”

“Uh, yeah… Not much styling. The least amount of steps possible is my go to method.”

“While the hat vibe is cute, I would not be doing my job if I sent you out of here wearing—”

“You think I’m cute?” He cuts you off. That dimple again making an appearance, his grin slightly laced in flirtation.

“Umm, yes.” Your face feels hot, the blow-dryer not helping much, as you try to remain calm and collected.

“Hm!”

Grabbing some product and applying a small amount to your palm, you begin to distribute it throughout his hair. .

“But I think without the hat is cute too. Easier to see all of your,” You gulp at your next admission. “Attractive features.” You giggle as you finish styling his freshly trimmed hair, each strand manipulated with such precision— the new length really does add to his handsomeness.

“You think I’m attractive too?” He says shifting in the chair, his gaze still steady on you.

“Oh wow, I’m really just letting my internal monologue run my mouth aren’t I?”

He shrugs with the slightest cock of his eyebrows in response.

“And now would be a good time for the ground to just swallow me up!” You groan, hands covering your face as you attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered.”

“So you think I’m cute now? We just going to spend the rest of the night confessing our new found feelings having only just met?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He states so casually.

The rest of his appointment is filled with more flirtatious banter, a connection that you’re both very much aware of— yet neither of you stating the obvious

“Thank you again.” Frankie says holding a bag of products he insisted he leave with, wanting to branch out from his usual “hat vibe”’as you called it— said hat’s bill tucked into the back pocket of his already snug blue jeans.

“So… Do you want to set something up for next time?” Pulling out your schedule, hoping that Frankie likes his cut, and you, enough to return regularly. “I think 5 to 6 weeks would be a good amount of time to see you again.”

“Actually— I was hoping I could see you sooner than that.”

“Oh! Okay. When are you thinking?” Slightly confused, you start scanning over the openings you have in the coming weeks.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?? I’m not follow— Oh! Ooooh!”

“Yeah….�� There’s a budding nervous energy about him as you realize what he’s asking. “There’s this sports bar around the corner— the guys and I hang out there from time to time. Anyways, they have some great appetizers and craft beer on tap… If you’re open to it, we could, um go… Unless you have other plans…”

“Yes! I’d love to Frankie.”

“Yeah?!” His face instantly beaming with excitement.

“Yeah! Just let me clean and lock up real quick, then we can head out.”

Drinks and appetizers flowed into a moonlit walk back to your car— both of you stalling out your goodbyes.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Frankie says as his hand cups your cheek, his warm gaze fixed on yours. “I hope this isn’t too soon, but would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“Yeah.. I’d like that.” Leaning into him to close the gap, fingers carding through the nape of his silky waves.

Frankie’s lips all but crash into yours, the intensity growing from your own, eager for more of him. He nips at the plumpness of your lower lip, encouraging them to part for him. His tongue slipping inside your mouth and you can taste the bitterness from his beer still lingering.

A grip is established on your hip, his hand slowly moving around to your backside eliciting a breathy moan from deep with in you as the heated kiss escalates.

Laughter from a rowdy group of bystanders reminds you both of your surroundings.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away there.” Frankie rests his forehead on yours as he tries to regain his composure, his breath fanning across your cheeks— they’re no longer cold from the frigid air.

“Well, I most certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, I look forward to you doing it again sometime.”

He places a kiss to your forehead, before exchanging goodbyes. He promises again to call tomorrow, and you’re already breathlessly excited for it.

Heater cranked up in your car, willing your body to adjust to the heat. You grab for your phone in your purse, pulling open your message app so you can send a quick text before putting the car in drive.

-Hey Benny, just wanted to thank you for setting that appointment up for Frankie. He’s a great guy! Super funny and hella charming.

-You sure we’re talking about the same Frankie?? 😉

-Funny! Anyways, I appreciate it and I’m looking forward to seeing him again!

-Oh! Hannah called, we’ve got a date next week!

-You be good to her Benny!

-Of course! No problem! Make sure you and Frankie thank me in your wedding toast 🍾🍾 Night!!

You roll your eyes at his last text before tossing your phone in to the passenger seat. The entire drive home you can’t get Frankie out of your head, wondering if he’d find you too eager to call him when you got home.

The decision made for you by the buzzing of your phone— Frankie’s name flashing on the screen.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

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keekee-23 · 1 year ago

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Friends to Lovers

A Y/N x Damian Priest Fluff Fanfiction

The sun was setting as Damian Priest pulled up to Y/N’s house. He had agreed to look after her pet bearded dragon, Iggy, while she went out on a date. He had known Y/N for a couple of years now, ever since she had been introduced to him by a mutual friend. Over that time, he had grown to be close friends with Y/N, but he had a secret that he had never revealed to her: He had a crush on her.

He gathered his courage and got out of the car, walking up the path to the door. He knocked and was quickly greeted by Y/N. She was dressed in a beautiful blue dress with a silver necklace, and Damian couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

She thanked him for coming over to babysit Iggy, and he smiled.

“No problem, it’s my pleasure,” he said, nervously.

Damian was tall and handsome, wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans. His eyes caught the light of the setting sun and sparkled as he smiled at Y/N, causing her to blush.

Y/N smiled back and invited him inside. She showed him around the house, and Damian took in all the details of the cozy home. Iggy the bearded dragon was perched on the couch, lazily basking in the sunlight. Damian greeted the small creature warmly, stroking its scaly back.

“So, how are you feeling about your date tonight?” Damian asked, trying to make conversation.

Y/N smiled. “I’m feeling pretty excited,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone out on a date.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” Damian said, and he meant it.

Y/N thanked him, and then she got an idea.

“Do you want to see my outfit?” she asked. “I’d love to get your opinion.”

Damian felt his heart racing. “Sure,” he said, his voice cracking.

As Y/N headed upstairs to change, Damian stayed in the living room playing Spot It with Iggy. But the second she walked through the door he stopped what he was doing and instead stared in shock. She was wearing a dark green dress that fit her frame perfectly, sending Damian into total awe of her beauty. He wanted to tell her how gorgeous she looked but was too nervous to get the words out correctly.

“It’s… it’s really nice,” he finally managed to stammer out.

Y/N blushed and smiled. “Thanks! I’m glad you like it.”

“Well, I better get going,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. “Thanks again for doing this. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Damian said. “Have a good time.”

Y/N smiled and left, leaving Damian alone with Iggy in his hands.

Damian watched her go, feeling a sense of longing as she disappeared into the night. He let out a deep sigh and turned back to Iggy who blinked up at him, its little tongue flicking out to taste the air.

Damian smiled, “You’re such a cutie, aren’t you?” while stroking its head gently. He loved Iggy almost as much as Y/N did, and he felt a small rush of pride at the thought of being trusted to look after it.

He placed the dragon on the armchair and stepped back, his eyes lingering on its scaly form for a moment before he finally turned away. With a heavy sigh, he walked across the room and paused in front of the window, gazing out at the street below.

There was a stillness in the air, a quiet that seemed to magnify the unease in his heart. He gazed out at the empty street, his mind filled with thoughts of Y/N and the man she was going to meet. He wondered who he was, what he looked like, and if he was the right one for her.

Damian bit his lip, feeling a surge of jealousy at the thought. He wanted to be the one she was going out with, he realized with a sudden clarity. He wanted to be the one who made her laugh and made her feel special. He wanted to be the one to show her the world, and to hold her close when things got tough.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was afraid. Afraid of rejection, of making things awkward between them, of ruining the best friendship he’d ever had. So, he kept his feelings to himself, his heart aching every time she talked about someone else.

He sighed, turning away from the window and back to Iggy. The dragon seemed to sense his distress, and it climbed onto his shoulder, nuzzling up against his neck comfortingly. Damian smiled, running his fingers through its soft scales.

“It’s going to be okay, little guy,” he whispered, hoping desperately that he was right.

Hours later ---

Y/N pulled up to her front drive with a sigh of relief. She was grateful to be home after the most unsuccessful date she'd ever been on.

Damian stood in the doorway, a glass of sweet tea in one hand and a pet bearded dragon perched on the other. He wore a half-smile as he greeted Y/N. "Hey there, Iggy's been missing you," he said.

Y/N smiled brightly, her exhaustion melting away in an instant. She leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Damian's cheek. "And I've been missing you too," she said, gesturing to the dragon on his arm. "Thanks for babysitting Iggy while I was out."

Damian nodded, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "It was no problem. I'm glad you had a good time…even if it was just dinner."

Y/N laughed and let out a deep sigh. "That date was horrible," she said, dropping onto the couch. "He talked about himself the entire time! Like he was trying to impress me or something."

An expression of worry crossed Damian's face as he carefully placed Iggy inside the terrarium. “That suck," he said. "I'm sorry."

Y/N shrugged. "It's okay. I just don't know if I'll ever find the right guy."

Damian felt his heart thumping in his chest. It was now or never: he had to tell her how he felt. He stole a quick glance at Y/N, trying to find the courage to speak up. After taking a deep breath, Damian made his confession. "Actually, there is somebody… who might be the right guy for you," he said quietly. He reached out and placed his hand on Y/N's arm, his voice gaining strength as he spoke. "And that person is me."

Y/N was so shocked that she couldn't find the words to respond. After a few moments of silence, she finally managed to say, "Damian…I…I had no idea you felt that way."

Damian nodded. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long time. I...I...I really like you. I think you're amazing and I would do anything to be with you. I know I'm not the perfect guy, but I thought maybe if you gave me a chance, I could prove that I am."

Y/N was shocked. She had secretly harbored feelings for Damian for just as long, but she thought he only saw her as a friend. She stared into his eyes, not believing what she was hearing.

"Damian," she said, her voice barely audible, "I feel the same way."

"You do?" He questioned in disbelief.

"Yes," Y/N confirmed.

Damian was shocked and explained how scared he had been about ruining their friendship if he told her. Y/N brought her hand to his cheek and smiled warmly. "You won't ruin it," she reassured him. "I'm glad you finally told me."

Damian felt his heart swell and without thinking, he leaned in and kissed Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, but then kissed him back, and the kiss seemed to last a lifetime.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N smiled shyly at Damian.

"I think I'm ready to take this chance on love with you," she said.

Damian smiled back, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

"Me too," he said.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Y/N sighed contentedly, knowing this was the right guy for her. Even Iggy the dragon watching through the terrarium approved with a satisfied smile.

#damian priest #damian priest fanfic #damian priest oneshot #wwe fandom #wwe #wwe fanfiction #damian priest x reader

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years ago

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#1 but instead of it being a couple it’s nat and ellie when she’s basically a baby and mrs bradshaw with lydia, and they make flower crowns for their girls together..maybe lydia is trying to braid her mom and nat’s hair and/or playing with baby ellie

jake and bradley watch their girls without them knowing 🥹 (they’re probably almost in tears too because it’s so pure and wholesome)

This request was so unbelievably precious! 🥹 I hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t often that Bradley, Phoenix, and Jake all had a day off at the same time—and even less often that it happened to fall on a Saturday. By some miracle, when it did finally happen, the weather just so happened to be absolutely gorgeous, perfect for a day of outdoor family activities.

To make the most of this rare occasion, you all planned a joint family outing, Bradshaws and Seresins, to the San Diego Zoo, followed by a picnic in Balboa Park.

Goose had been most excited for the jaguars.

JJ wanted to see the elephants.

Lydia couldn’t stop gushing about the koala bears.

Ben and Liam nearly got lost near the baboons.

James was thrilled by the lions.

And Ellie was in awe of the giraffes.

By the time your group had finally gotten settled in a nice, shady spot in the park, you, Bradley, Phoenix, and Jake were exhausted. But it seemed like the boys were just starting to get a second wind—Ben and Liam were running around in circles, seeing who could get dizzy faster, while Goose and JJ were racing each other between two trees, four-year-old James pumping his tiny legs to try to keep up with them.

“How do they even manage it? I don’t think I’ve ever had so much energy in my life,” you confessed from your spot on the picnic blanket, where you were currently reapplying sunblock to Lydia’s shoulders.

“I’m exhausted just looking at them,” Phoenix nodded in agreement, holding out a piece of strawberry for two-year-old Ellie to munch on. Turning her head, she glanced over at her husband, who was lounging on the grass with one arm flung over his eyes. “Hey, Bagman,” she said, nudging him with her foot.

“Hm?” he asked, lifting his head with effort.

“Why don’t you and Rooster go put the boys through their paces so that they’ll all pass out and stop running around like maniacs,” she suggested, smirking over at you when you laughed behind your hand.

“But Minx!” Jake whined, already tired from chasing after the twins all day.

“Come on, Hangman,” Bradley laughed, winking at you as he rose from the spot where he’d been resting and smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s give the ladies a little girls’ time. Unless you’re feeling too out of shape for a quick round of dogfight football.”

“Hell no,” Jake declared immediately, hopping up from the ground in record time. “But you’re getting the twins on your team this time,” he smirked, cupping his hands around his mouth as he began calling for Goose, JJ, Ben, Liam, and James to fall in.

Phoenix rolled her eyes, laughing. “Typical. Still as competitive as ever, those two.”

“Always,” you grinned in response, popping a couple raspberries into your mouth.

“Mommy! Flower!” Ellie cried out, pointing towards a small cluster of wildflowers growing nearby, a riotous array of pinks and purples and yellows.

“Oh, look how pretty!” Phoenix cooed. “Do you want to pick some?”

“Pick!” Ellie exclaimed eagerly, nodding her head.

“Come on, Ellie, I’ll pick flowers with you!” Lydia said, taking the little girl’s hand in hers as she walked them over to the wildflowers. At seven, Lydia loved getting to look out for Ellie—she was like the little sister she never had.

You and Phoenix smiled as you watched your daughters pick flowers together, Lydia gently trying to show Ellie how to hold them without crushing them. It was a peaceful scene, punctuated every now and then by the rambunctious shouts of your boys when one of them made a particularly impressive play.

A few minutes later, the girls returned with a large number of pretty blossoms in hand.

“For Mommy!” Ellie declared, dropping a handful of flowers onto Phoenix’s lap.

“Oh, thank you!” Phoenix replied, picking up a light purple flower and sniffing it delicately.

“Aren’t they pretty, Mommy?” Lydia asked, holding out a fistful of pink petals in your direction.

“Beautiful!” you nodded enthusiastically, beaming up at her. “Why don’t you show Ellie how to make flower crowns, the way Amelia was showing you?” you suggested.

“Oh, yeah! Good idea!” Lydia smiled, sitting down beside Ellie on the blanket. “Want to learn to make flower crowns so you can be a princess, Ellie?”

Ellie’s eyes widened at the word “princess” and she nodded exuberantly.

It was slow going, and a lot of assistance from both you and Phoenix was required, but soon enough, you had four beautiful flower crowns lying in front of you, the sweet smell of spring and sunshine wafting through the air.

“Aunt Phoenix, can I braid Ellie’s hair?” Lydia asked, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. “Mommy is teaching me how!”

“Of course,” Phoenix nodded with an indulgent smile. She loved all your children, but she had a particularly soft spot for Lydia.

“Thank you!” Lydia beamed, practically glowing. “Mommy, you should braid Aunt Phoenix’s hair!”

And that was how the Bradshaw ladies ended up braiding the Seresin women’s hair, Ellies’s braid short and sweet, and Phoenix’s a bit more elaborate because you ended up having fun with it. You were just crowning one another with your flower circlets when the boys came traipsing back over, sweaty and red-faced and out of breath.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Jake grinned, lifting Ellie into his arms and tapping her nose affectionately.

“Daddy! I a princess!” Ellie cried happily, squeezing his face between her hands.

“Oh, a princess, huh?” he asked, tickling her belly until she erupted into a fit of giggles.

“Well she’s a princess,” Phoenix smirked. “I’m a queen.”

“Well I knew that already,” Jake winked, lowering down beside his wife so that he could plant a kiss on her lips. The six-year-old twins pretended to gag in response.

“Do you like our crowns, Daddy?” Lydia asked, running up to Bradley and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“They’re beautiful, angel,” Bradley nodded, ducking down to press a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. Taking her hand, he sat down beside you on the picnic blanket and kissed you softly. “Very beautiful, Your Highness,” he whispered teasingly.

“So who won dogfight football?” Phoenix asked, watching with an arched brow as the boys began digging through the picnic basket.

“We did!” all of them declared, leading to a heated debate about which team had actually taken the victory.

In the end, as busy and hectic a day as it had been, none of you would have changed a thing about it. The kids all fell asleep on the ride home, giving the adults a bit of respite and time to unwind.

Lots of fun today! Can’t wait to do it again soon, you texted Phoenix during the drive back.

Not too soon 🤪😂

When the Seresins arrived back at their house and began unloading the car, Phoenix carrying a sleeping Ellie into the house, Jake glanced down at the floor in the backseat and spotted a small circlet of flowers.

“Can’t forget this,” he said, holding it out gingerly to Phoenix when he stepped inside. “Every princess needs her crown.”

Spring OTP Prompts 🌼

#bradshaw drabble #hannix drabble #the bradshaw family #mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #the seresin family #hannix #hangman x phoenix #spring writing prompts

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loreensdarling · 2 years ago

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eurovision song contest and gay panic

LOREEN ANTIS DNI; MEN DNI, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOCKS DNI; HOMOPHOBES DNI

PART ONE (?)

Plot: You're a singer for this year's Eurovision Song Contest. You're in for Poland in the Semi Final, and you are super hyped, competing in Eurovision at a young age and all by yourself is pretty exciting. With everything being already pretty exciting you didn't think you'd run into a certain Swedish singer that you've had a crush on for a while...

content warnings: afab!reader (important for possible part two), flirting, age gap (reader is 24, loreen is 39), use of nicknames (darling, honey), gay panic, all in one it's a lot of flirting and maybe some smut in part 2 if i can write something decent

writers warning: english is not my first language and I've never really written in English and outside of RP before, so I apologize if this is weird 🙏 I hope there's demand for one shots of our mother

---------

You are standing behind the stage of the Eurovision Song Contest semi final, watching the other participants through the huge curtains that separate the backstage and the actual stage. You are almost hyperventilating, nervously flapping your hands towards your face to attempt to cool down. You are sweating, more because of nervousness than of hotness.

These are the semi finals, your last shot to actually get into the finals. Even though you are pretty positive that you could get into the finale to represent your country, you are still very anxious. Everything up until here has been a fever dream basically, and getting to perform in front of thousands of people was amazing, but never before had you been so nervous in your life.

You'd only done concerts a few times before applying for ESC, and they were pretty small concerts, but since you got into the final contenders, won against other polish competitors and then was chosen to represent Poland, your fan base has grown a lot. People seemed to love you, and you loved the music and making music, so this was amazing.

Nervously you brush a strand of hair back behind your ear and check your makeup in a small hand mirror, before you look back outside. There are only three acts before you have to compete for a place in the finals. You sigh.

"Come on, Y/N. You can absolutely do this, you'll proudly represent your country in the finals.", you say out loud to yourself as you turn around - and bump right into someone. As you struggle to keep your balance, you can feel your cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't watch wh-", as you begin to rant down an apology immediately, are cut off by a rough, smoky voice. "Oh, it's alright, Darling.", the gorgeous, raven haired woman in front of you said in a low tone, her hand on your biceps to stop you from falling. You look at her, eyes widened.

You recognize her immediately. It’s Loreen. Admittedly one of your celebrity crushes ever since you saw her in 2012s Eurovision. And she has her hand on your arm. Her low, raspy voice, that accent. You don't know what to do, you're frozen in place, cheeks flushed red and your eyes anywhere but her face. It’s like your brain is frozen as you scan her over almost automatically, looking everywhere but her face.

Her outfit is hugging her body perfectly, and you can feel her hand on your biceps. Your brain is empty and your lips are parted as you breathe heavily. It takes you a few seconds to snap back into reality and if your face can heat up any more, it's probably doing that right now.

"I-... I'm really sorry, I'm a big fan, I didn't expect to meet you like... This.", as you manage to bring this out you bite the inside of your cheek. This sounds so stupid, why can't your poor gay brain bring out coherent sentences for once?

Loreen chuckled softly, looking you up and down for a second. "Are you alright, Darling? You look quite nervous", she remarks, slight concern in her voice. "Oh, Honey, is it the contest? It's your first time with a crowd this big, isn't it?", she asks.

You nod, frowning slightly. Is it that obvious? Or did she check out every competitor that she would possibly be up against in the finale? Not that she'd have that much competition, you think. At least not from you. You notice that her hand is still on your biceps as she watches you with concern. With your brain so mushed, you can't even process the nicknames she was calling you.

As you finally lift your eyes to meet her concerned gaze you feel like you´re going to explode, so you look away again quickly. The close proximity is making you even more nervous. "Well, I'm confident you'll make it. I've seen your local finale, your performance is powerful, Darling."

This is it, you feel like your knees are going to cave in at any given moment. Loreen is encouraging you, and you don't know how much more of this you can take before your legs give in. This woman doesn't even know the power she has over you with that little crush that you have on her. Although, that crush is growing by the second. You're spiraling deeply in a gay panic.

"T-Thank you-", you croak out as your name is announced. You take a step back, quickly checking your microphone. "I need to go-", while you turn away, you almost stumble from how weak your legs suddenly are and you are pretty sure you must be redder than a tomato. Your cheeks are super hot, from embarrassment and from being turned on. God, the older woman is so attractive. And she probably knows that.

You decide to quickly shake it off as you climb the stage, throwing the people a nervous smile. Her low, smoky voice is burned into the back of your head as your song starts to play.

"Your performance is powerful, Darling."

And oh, that little nickname keeps you going. It's burned into your brain, keeps you going through your performance, the way she said it and her voice, oh god, her voice. And oh, you deliver. By the end of your performance the people are cheering and screaming for you, and you throw them a smirk and wink at them. They go wild.

As soon as you leave the stage your knees buckle and you quickly hold on to the wall, taking a deep breath. "Shit.", you mutter. All the adrenaline that was rushing through your body during this performance was leaving your body all at once and you realize you are shaking, from excitement and stress.

You really did this. You went out there, and you have a big chance of being able to perform in the final for your country. Looking around, you take another deep breath and let go of the wall with a big grin. You need caffeine and a nap now, you decide. As you turn around to head for your booth, you spot Loreen. She is preparing for her entrance and as you look at her, she looks back at you for a second and smirks. You happily throw a grin back as you blush again.

Sitting down in your spot you mentally prepare yourself to see your idol, your crush, on stage. Then the lights go out and her performance begins. You aren't able to pull your eyes away from her for most of the time, she's gorgeous. And oh, she knows that, she notices your looks and winks at you. Or, in your general direction. The people go wild again, they don't care who this was directed at.

Somehow you manage to almost choke on your own spit when she winks in your direction and you have to turn away for a few moments, almost dying from a gay panic attack on the spot. If you thought your cheeks had been burning before, you've now been proven wrong, you're redder than ever. One of your friends and background dancers pats your back, laughing.

"Oh, you're so fucked.", she comments dryly. "Someone's in love." "I'm not!", you protest, but it comes out quiet and a little too defensive. Of course you're not in love, but your crush on Loreen is getting more and more severe by the minute. Your gay panic is so huge that you don't even notice the raven haired singer getting off the stage after finishing and heading in your direction.

You only notice when she suddenly bends over you, her hands on your thigh. She smirks at you, her nails digging in your thigh. You'd be embarrassed to admit it, but this turns you on, your brain is mush once again and you cannot form a coherent thought. You look at her in shock for a few moments, your lips slightly parted. How does breathing work again?, you think.

"I knew you could do it, Darling.", she whispered, her mouth directly next to your ear. Ungodly shivers run down your spine. You're a hundred percent sure that if you open your mouth now, you'd moan out loud. You don't even have the time to reply before she pulls back and heads back to her booth to wait for the results.

Breathless, your eyes follow her figure. Your cheeks are burning and there are so many emotions going on in your head. Was she actually flirting with you or did you interpret too much? You probably interpret too much, you think, how could a woman as gorgeous, breathtaking and talented as her flirt with someone like you?

You are just some random singer competing for your country and she is a goddess. She’s not just out of your league, but you’re probably way too young for her liking. And surely not her type, you think, sighing quietly as your gaze lingers on Loreen.

You are snapped out of your thoughts and pull your eyes away from her and back to your group when your friend grabs your hand and squeezes it in excitement. You're about to learn your points from the public votes. Will you make it? You have to, you have to compete for your country in the finals.

Then, finally, your points are announced. You take a moment to process the amount of points you'd gotten, then you squeeze your friend's hand hard and squeal. "We did it!", she yells at you and you excitedly scream back. “We’re in!”

You're in the finals, you'll be competing for your country in a few days.

You throw a short look back at the raven haired Swedish singer. She's smirking at you and mouths something. 'Well done, Honey', is what you understand, at least you're pretty sure of it. You give her a big, excited grin and then you're being pulled into a tight hug with your background dancers.

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