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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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*runs to refill tea (and rum)* I'm back, baby! 😎

(Also, before I come across as some drunk, I'd like to clarify I haven't had a drop of alcohol before pregnancy, so Christmas 2022, whoa... 👀🙈😂)

Clearly having a blast and couldn't imagine a better Christmas than reading one of your amazing stories, friend ❤️

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown. When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile.

Loved that little moment of jealousy there. How do you like tasting your own medicine, Russ? 😂

I absolutely loved their pizza and movie date at home. And they already shared so much with each other 🥹 The fact he felt secure enough to open up to her after this short amount of time says a lot, considering Dory hasn't even told her the story yet. I love them 😭🤍

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Honestly, in this day and age, it's always best to wait for renewed consent (even though I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have minded in the least lol). Loved that he recognized that and hesitated!

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

Poor girl 😂💕 The morning after is always a tad awkward – especially if everything is still in the balance of will they/won't they and nothing *sexual* has happened yet 😅

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?” Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too. “Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

Absolutely adored this exchange! ❤️

Oooof, and that smut may have been my undoing for tonight! Holy hell!!! 😮‍💨🔥🌶️

“You know, drug dealers aside, Laramie isn’t such a bad place to live,” you pointed out. “We’ve got a movie theater, a couple good outlet malls, a new Tex-Mex restaurant that just opened down the street. I’m gonna have to find a new bar though.”

Again, she's so cute 😆🤍

I do hope they work something out. I don't think Russell would've necessarily taken the "big" step, knowing her feelings on this, if he hadn't planned to try and make it work somehow ❤️

He’d found where he wanted to be.

Perfect ending, friend 🥹💚 (You know I love a bit of drama and angst in an ending lol)

I loved this series so goddamn much! It fit so well with every character and gave so much that the show didn't (like that awesome family reunion of the three Shaws). Can't wait to get into the one-shots over the holidays 😍

Again, the merriest of Christmases to you and your family, Alex! Thank you for always being a wonderful friend 🤍🎄

Every Second Counts - Part 5

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.

AN: I thought about breaking up this chapter into two parts, but for some reason it didn’t feel right. I hope you enjoy the finale! I think this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, ‘90s movie reference, mutual pining and tension, and a strong dose of smut.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 5: “Damn Worth It”

You borrowed Russell’s cell to call Dory from the hospital. You let her know that Charlie was stable and resting, and that Russell was bringing you home.

You should’ve known that when you two got there, you wouldn’t have the kind of privacy you craved. Colter and Dory were waiting in his car, parked in your driveway. They met you in front of your house, where Dory pulled you into a big, swaying hug. She cried, you cried, and her brothers hung back to watch the warm scene.

Dory pulled back to get a better look at you. She hesitated to touch the bandage above your brow.

“God. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you sniffed, wiping at your face. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Dory actually had your keys. After she handed them to you, you took in a steadying breath, and you unlocked your front door without incident this time. You invited everyone in.

Even though you told her not to, Dory began straightening up a bit for you. She had Russell take out the trash while she washed the dishes.

Meanwhile, you pulled Colter aside in the living room. You led him to sit with you on the couch.

“Can I at least give you $1,000?” you asked. It was all you had left in your savings, but the man had literally saved your brother's life, and yours as well. “I know it’s not much, compared to what your jobs usually get you—”

“Please,” Colter said. He touched your arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you and Charlie are safe.”

You teared up all over again, but you gave him a smile and held his hand with both of yours.

“Thank you,” you said.

Russell happened to spot the cozy little scene from the doorway. He couldn’t help staring, and trying not to frown.

When Colter caught sight of his brother loitering (and that look on his face), Colter tried to hide most of his smile. He let go of your hand, patted your shoulder and stood. You followed him to the kitchen, where he went to check on Dory. Russell filtered in behind you both.

“Hey, wanna grab some lunch?” Colter asked his sister.

She gave him a raised brow. “Wow, my brother actually wants to hang out with me instead of rushing off to the next job?”

He gave her an amused look. “I’ve got some time.”

Dory was happy to hear that, but her expression dimmed when she turned to you.

“Would you want to go? Or do you need to rest?” she asked.

“Oh, I need to get cleaned up, and then sleep for about ten years,” you said. “But you go, D. Have fun.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Well, she won’t be,” Russell chimed in. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit, clean up and take little power nap myself.”

At that, Dory slowly smiled, both amused and suspicious. Her gaze slid back to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. You read the double meaning laced in her tone.

“Yeah, definitely,” you said with a smile, and the beginnings of a warm blush. “You guys go ahead.”

There was a knowing gleam to her own smile, but Dory shrugged and gave you one last hug. She and Colter said their goodbyes to their older brother before they headed out. It left you alone in the house with Russell for the first time since this all began.

“Um, you can use the guest bathroom if you want to shower,” you told him. “Towels are under the sink, and feel free to borrow any of Charlie’s clothes if you need.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got a bag in the car with some stuff,” Russell said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. “I take one wherever I go.”

“Smart,” you nodded. “Very prepared.”

A strange silence stretched between you two, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m just…gonna go clean up,” you said. “We can order some food after?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said. He was amused as he watched you scurry off, after giving him another smile over your shoulder.

Though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a small trill of nerves himself. It brought him a little bounce in his step as he headed out to his car to grab his stuff.

By the time you were done showering and drying your hair, Russell had ordered a pizza (and a side of fries). You padded out into the living room in an old college shirt and pajama shorts. He tried not to linger his gaze on your smooth, bare legs.

“Sorry, forgot to ask if you’d want something else to eat,” he said.

“Pizza is perfect,” you said. At this point, after almost a full day without food, you’d eat sliced bread out of the bag. You gave him a teasing look. “I’d ask you if you wanted a beer, but I’m afraid it’s not up to your standard.”

“Well, that’s okay. I happen to have brought a sample for you, just like I promised,” he said, with that grin of his you’d come to expect.

He retrieved a case of homebrew from his car, but you had to add some ice cubes into a tall glass before you joined him back on the couch. You poured the contents of a bottle into the glass.

“Sorry, I know this is sacrilege, but I can’t drink warm beer,” you said.

“I can’t fault you, though I didn’t really peg you for a pizza and beer kind of girl,” he said. He tipped a swig of beer into his mouth, right from a lukewarm bottle. He was a purist.

You quirked a brow at him and took another bite of your pizza slice.

“Why not?” you asked, after swallowing a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom.

Russell shrugged. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no. I want to hear this,” you said. “What, because I teach college students?”

Russell looked over at you and leaned on his elbow, resting above his knee.

“You’re a college professor with a handful of degrees,” he said. “I’ve got a GED and a give ‘em hell outlook on life.”

You shook your head at that.

“We’re different. That’s not a bad thing,” you said. “And like my brother, you’ve fought for this country. You’ve saved lives, including mine. I’d say that’s pretty damn special.”

His head tilted at that. He didn’t want to remind you that, just like you saw today, he’d taken lives too. Perhaps just as many as he’d saved. You could debate the quality of those lives, but in the grand scheme of things, he knew what he was. A trained killer.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a familiar weight.

You didn’t like the pensive look on his face, so you aimed to distract him.

“Want to watch a movie?” you suggested.

Russell inclined his head. “Sure. What you got?”

That was how the two of you ended up finishing the box of pizza and a case of beer while laughing at Tommy Boy, of all things—one of the best '90s buddy road trip comedies of all time. Apparently Russell had never seen it before, but you enjoyed watching him experience it for the first time. He had a deep, infectious laugh that made you laugh just by proximity.

Later in the movie, the reluctant, unlikely duo of Tommy and Richard hit a deer, and tried to transport it in the car. Russell both laughed and cringed when the animal woke up and thoroughly wrecked the car from the inside. You noticed his reaction and nudged him in the arm.

Russell held in a grunt of pain when you unintentionally hit his injured shoulder, bandaged underneath his gray henley.

“What if that was the Chevelle,” you teased.

He cast you a playfully chiding look. “Woman, don’t even joke.”

You laughed and squeezed his forearm in a friendly gesture. But he thought there was more than just friendliness when you shot him that little smile. He decided to take a chance.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. He slid a hand around your waist and guided you closer until you came to lay against his side. You allowed yourself to rest against him, splaying your hand flat against the firm wall of his chest. Your heart tripped up faster, but you also relaxed more fully for the first time since you got home. You let out a long breath, and you used the remote to lower the volume on the movie a little.

“Do you think Charlie will be able to get past this?” you asked quietly. “Think he’ll be okay?”

Russell hummed as he thought back to his conversation with your brother in the hospital. Charlie was still young, but he seemed to realize what he’d done, and what he needed to change. He wouldn’t have volunteered himself for rehab if he hadn’t.

Russell brushed your arm with his thumb. “Well, I think he knows what he needs to do. If he’s anything like you, then he’ll be all right.”

Your mouth tugged upward, though you considered his words with a sigh.

“He hasn’t had it easy,” you said. “He was barely eighteen when our parents died. Suddenly he had to be an adult. In fact, he almost didn’t finish high school. Had to take care of the funeral, had to get a job, had to take care of me…and I didn’t always make it easy on him.”

Russell’s lips curved in light of your faint smile. Then, your expression dimmed.

“He pulled me out of the car,” you admitted. Russell looked down at you.

“You all were there?” he asked.

“My dad was driving. We’d just gone out to dinner as a family,” you said.

You hesitated as the scenes once again filtered through your mind. Some things were hazy. Others, you could see with perfect clarity. You remembered how your parents argued about the best way to get home while the pouring rain beat down overhead, half-drowning out their voices.

You remembered what the flash of a red stoplight looked like through the car window, with streams of water coming down, and a dead leaf stuck to the glass.

You remembered the sound of horns blaring in your ears, the crunch of metal on metal. Your mother’s scream. The feeling of being suspended, and then ricocheted painfully through time and space.

Then the smell of exhaust, and the metallic tang of blood.

“We were heading through a terrible storm,” you said, after letting out a long breath through your nose. “By the end of the night, it was just me and Charlie in the hospital.”

He’d broken his arm, but thanks to him, the only thing you really walked away with were a few cuts and bruises, and the memories of that day. They were like old scars, painful and tender at the touch.

Russell shook his head, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “And I’m sorry too. I know you understand what it’s like to lose a parent.”

The movie played on as that new weight settled between you. Russell fell into his own thoughts as he continued to rub your arm in comfort. His own past wasn’t like yours, but he did understand some of your pain.

“How much did Dory tell you about how we grew up?” he asked.

You shifted a bit, so you could see his face too.

“I know your dad took you all to a cabin in some sort of compound in the woods, when you all were still pretty young.”

“He taught us to live off the land. Drilled us, really,” Russell explained, noting your raised brows. “Yeah, he was…well, a paranoid bastard, to be frank. We still don’t know all of why, and what drove him to move us out there.”

“Dory said he was…eccentric,” you said. Russell snorted.

“He was a piece of fucking work,” he said. “Half the time I hated him, if I’m honest.”

That part was hard to admit, even if it was true. Your hand soothed across his chest, more comforting as you listened. Russell’s lips quirked. He liked that about you, that you were willing to listen without judging him, or his family. Maybe that was another reason Dory seemed to love you so much.

“But one night, it was like he snapped,” he said.

For a moment, he was lost in the memory. His father’s anger, and the damn crazy look in his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

Russell glanced at you again. “I don’t think you wanna hear this right now.”

You shook your head. “No, I do.”

He hesitated, but that earnest look in your eyes got him. Still, he surprised himself when he actually told you. He explained it the best he could, the way he saw it in his mind’s eye.

Their mom had been missing, hadn’t come home yet. Then his dad had torn around the house like a man possessed, until he told them it was time to leave for their own safety. Dory had been scared, especially when he grabbed her, yelled at her.

That was the one thing Russell couldn’t tolerate. So he snapped, yanking the older man back and shoving him away. It was one of the first times Russell had ever defied his father.

Ashton Shaw left them then, heading out into the night and the rain. Maybe he’d realized what he was doing to his own kids, his own family.

Colter wanted to follow after him, but Russell stopped him. Being the eldest, he took on the responsibility, even if he’d been reluctant. We’re better off without him…

He was barely sixteen at the time, but Russell knew he’d seen his father arguing with someone—a man he’d seen before, talking with his mother. And then…

“I watched him die that night,” Russell said.

Your hand clenched in his shirt, reminding him that you were still in his arms, still listening. He remembered that scene, looking over the cliff to find his father’s broken body down below.

“He fell, and I couldn’t stop it,” he said. “And to this day, I still don’t know what all that was about.”

He’d been reluctant to tell even Colter that it still haunted him sometimes; that night, and the not knowing.

You pulled yourself up further so you could meet Russell’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

The movie had long faded into the background, but at least it gave some white noise for the next heavy beat that passed between you two. His eyes eventually fell away from yours.

“It’s old history,” Russell said at last.

“It’s not just history,” you denied softly. “It’s your life.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just hummed in agreement. He encouraged you to relax against him again, with a warm hand on your back. You settled and released another contented sigh. Even though Russell’s story weighed on your heart, you did feel closer to him. It made you feel like you understood Dory better too, and even Colter.

Russell rubbed your arm. “You doin’ okay? You’ve had a long day.”

“Day and night,” you agreed. Your eyes closed against your will. “But, yeah…I think I’m okay now.”

At that, he smiled. He laid a kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he said.

A few minutes later, Russell heard your soft, deeper breaths in sleep. He chanced grabbing a throw blanket laid over the back of the couch. He managed to toss it over your body, but he made sure it covered you. You shifted in your sleep and curled up more comfortably against him.

Russell smiled down on you fondly. He’d learned a hell of a lot more about you in just the past couple of days, but ever since he met you, he’d been picking up on the important things. The things that made you the woman you were.

And he wanted more, he realized. He wanted more time with you.

That turned out to be the last real thought he had before his eyes closed on him too.

Russell didn’t wake again until the credits on the movie were rolling near the end. You were still knocked out. So he carried you, blanket and all, over to your bedroom.

He smelled the remnants of your floral shampoo and body wash in the air, likely coming from the bathroom. It was an intoxicating mix, one that had infiltrated his nose ever since you came out of the shower today.

It was only 6:00 p.m., but it might as well have been midnight. He laid you down toward the middle of the bed. There was still space on the other side. Very tempting.

She did offer, he thought, remembering what you’d said at the hospital. And yet, he hesitated.

Before he could make a decision, you made it for him. Your hand reached out to hook in his shirt.

Russell looked down at your sleepy smile.

“Get over here,” you said, tugging him downward. He chuckled and wrapped his hand around yours. He allowed you to guide him over, and he somehow managed to roll onto the other side of the bed without crushing you.

“Reflexes like a cat, I tell ya,” he quipped.

You giggled softly. He took off his first layer of defense (his pants), leaving him in his henley and boxer briefs. He settled into bed behind you and slipped an arm around your waist. He fit in snug against your back.

“Mmm,” he sighed. His lips pressed behind your ear, smiling there. “Feels nice.”

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

He couldn’t see your smile, but you held his arm in place. For the first time in a while, you weren’t alone.

In the early morning, you woke up to warmth and closeness. The man in your bed snored lightly, mouth parted in sleep while he faced you. You smiled.

How could a man who felt dangerous, in more ways than one, also make you feel safe? It was a wonder. Though when an idea hit you, you carefully slid out of bed.

Russell eventually roused in his own time. He blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched out his limbs in your very comfortable bed. This sure beat rusty motel springs.

He realized that he was alone in the room, but he heard you puttering around the house. He allowed himself to doze some more.

A few minutes later, you returned to greet him with a couple of mugs, drawing him back into the waking world with the rich smell of coffee.

“Aww yeah, that’s the stuff,” he said. He groaned as he slowly sat up.

You laughed and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he said. His voice was deeper and rougher with sleep, washing down your spine pleasantly.

He accepted the mug you offered him. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure at its bold flavor. It wasn’t as sweet as he usually liked it, but it was exactly what he needed right now.

“I just did a little sugar and creamer. That okay?” you asked.

“It’s good,” he nodded. And you looked good, he noticed, with your bed-tousled hair and an open robe over your tank top and little shorts.

“Do you want to meet Dory and Colter for breakfast?” you asked. “Dory texted me this morning.”

Russell’s brows shot up.

“Colt stuck around?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dory asked him to stay at her place last night,” you said. Russell hummed in response.

A bit of an awkward lull fell between you. You’d felt bolder yesterday in the hospital, but now, you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing with a man who just slept somewhat-but-not-altogether platonically in your bed.

“Um, I’ll just…get ready then,” you said, pointing to the bathroom. “You…take your time.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

He peeled back the covers and climbed out of your bed, away from the sheets that smelled like you.

You watched him go when he headed across the hall back to Charlie’s room. You sighed and beat your hand against your own forehead in frustration. What the hell am I doing?

You’d literally invited him into your bed last night, but he hadn’t done anything more than hold you while you slept. It was incredibly kind, and it said a lot about him, despite his rough-around-the-edges exterior. You were just a little disappointed that he’d been a perfect gentleman about it all.

You rolled your eyes at yourself. What did that say about you?

You shook your head and resolved to freshen up. There was still a cut that the ER nurse covered with a butterfly bandage above your brow. You cleaned it up and applied a new bandage. Then you put on some makeup to cover the ugly bruise on your cheek and the dark circles that lingered under your eyes.

God, look at me. You actually wouldn’t blame Russell for not being into you enough to make a move.

A bit disheartened, you changed out of your pajamas to slip on a nice, but comfortable dress over your bra and underwear. Afterward, you paused to stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. What exactly do you want here?

“Hey, uh—” Russell’s voice startled you, making you flinch. Maybe you were still jumpy.

He raised an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask if you want some toast or something. I don’t think my stomach can wait ‘til we meet up with Dory.”

You smiled faintly. “Sure, go ahead. Whatever’s there, you’re welcome to.”

Russell paused, tilting his head. There was something off with you. He saw it, and felt it.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away.

Russell’s spidey senses began to tingle. He approached you and laid a hand on the counter, inches from yours.

“You sure?” he said. He took in your hesitant face, then the pretty dress you had on. The color matched your eyes. Soulful eyes.

He smiled when you let him see them again.

“Can you see the bruises? I think I covered them up well enough,” you said. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror again, touching your jaw carefully.

Russell’s hand raised to find your cheek, earning your attention with wider eyes. His thumb swept across your skin as you started to blush.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Your face warmed further, despite your smile.

“Yeah, the makeup helps,” you quipped.

“I didn’t say anything about makeup,” he replied. Though he grinned and made a show of looking closer at your face. “Although, have your lashes always been that damn long?”

You laughed, but he didn’t let go of you. Instead, his hand drifted down to your neck, cradling your jaw. His thumb brushed over your lower lip this time, smudging your lipstick a little. Your eyes met his, but they’d already lowered, to the path of his hand. You were tempted to nip at his thumb, or better yet, suck it into your mouth.

Perhaps he read the thought crossing your face. Because when those darkened eyes flicked up to yours, he finally bowed his head to kiss you.

You took in a deep breath, and you melted into his mouth with a moan of wanting. A craving from the depths of your heart, finally being fulfilled.

You didn’t let yourself think anymore. You gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. He cupped the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you let him in. You met his every kiss with the same fervor, claiming him right back, demanding just as much.

Your hands slid up his chest and helped him shrug off the green jacket first, then his shirt (Led Zeppelin this time). He hooked an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, so he could turn you around and walk you back to the bed.

You clung to his bare shoulders and savored the feeling of his warm, calloused hands burning up your thighs and ass, bunching the skirt of your dress. You helped him get it over your head and toss it onto the floor along with his clothes.

As he held you by the waist, his gaze dipped for a moment to take you in, from bare thighs and hips and lacy panties, all the way up to your breasts cupped in your bra. Through panting breaths, you smiled and blushed at the heated depths of his green eyes. You felt like your heart was beating in and out of rhythm.

But you managed to get a hold of your nerves long enough to drag your hands down his chest, down to his belt. You unclipped it for him and took your time in sliding the entire belt out of its loops. Then you let the brown leather fall to the floor.

Russell raised a brow at you, smiling. Taking your challenge for what it was, he unbuttoned his jeans himself and aimed to step out of them, but he had some trouble when one of the pant legs got caught around his ankle and sock-covered foot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he stumbled a little. “Hold on.”

Unable to help a small giggle, you grabbed his left arm to help steady him. He hissed in pain, but he cleared his throat to cover it. You gasped as you realized what you’d done. You noticed then that he had a bandage tightly wrapped above his elbow, right below one of his tattoos.

“What’s this?” you asked in concern. You held his arm with both hands. “Did you get shot? Did you get this looked at when we were at the hospital?”

Russell staved off your questions with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is old, just still healing up,” he said.

You frowned up at him. “You got stabbed, shot, what? When did this happen? I thought you worked in private security.”

“A couple months ago. I got, uh, grazed. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Sometimes the job gets a bit dicey.”

He could tell though, that you weren’t going to let it go easily.

“Let me see,” you said, trying to peek under the bandage. Russell laughed and gathered you into his arms to stop your attempts. Your concern warmed him, but it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. Can we focus on the fun part, here?” he said.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but Russell saw the testiness in your eyes. He dipped down to kiss you, swallowing whatever snippy remark you were about to make.

You weren’t the only one giving into a craving here. Russell’s was bone-deep, molten in his blood, and getting to see you, to feel your soft body under his hands was already so much better than he’d imagined. His hold tightened on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin.

A shudder ran up your spine at his touch. You circled your arms around his neck and let him continue ravishing you, then laying you down onto the bed.

While you were careful about avoiding the bandage, your hand did drift down his arm, and further still, to palm at the straining bulge pressing against you. And Jesus Christ, did it feel generous. He grunted at your touch and paused with his lips against your jaw.

“Well hey there, cowboy,” you said, adopting a more sensuous tone. “I had a feeling you’d be packing. What’s that, a .45, or a 38 Special?”

Russell’s eyes blinked wide. Then he erupted with deep laughter that made his shoulders shake. Aside from throwing a punch, your brother must’ve taught you something about guns too.

“Well thank you, kindly,” Russell said, putting on a bit of a southern drawl, just to tease you. “But you’re about to find out, naughty girl.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, languid and sloppy. He blazed a wet trail down the column of your throat and between your breasts. His beard rasping against your skin made you shudder a little, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, you quite liked that a lot.

He slipped a hand underneath you to unclip the black lace. You arched into him so he had easier access.

He slid the bra from your body and tossed it somewhere behind him. Just as he’d imagined, you had beautiful tits. His lips explored each of them in turn, squeezing supple flesh and rolling your sensitive, hardened nipples with his tongue and fingers.

It was a prequel, you thought, for what talents that mouth might have further down. You had to moan just at the idea, your fingers clenching in his hair, but also at the sensations he was drawing from your body wherever he touched. The man clearly knew what he was doing.

He traveled lower still and laid slow, occasionally nipping kisses across your stomach, hips and thighs. His fingers hooked around your panties and lowered them down your legs. You felt his warm breath panting against your thigh. You glanced down at him and tensed in anticipation.

“Still good?” he checked, squeezing your hip. You smiled and reached for his hand. Russell gave it to you, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in affection.

“I think I’m about to be,” you said cheekily.

He smirked. His other hand smoothed up the inside of your thigh and slipped past your folds, finding wetness that already coated his digits.

“Goddamn. You’re soaked,” he said, just a hint teasing. “Bet if I put my mouth on you, you’d fuckin’ drown me.”

Again, he stopped whatever smart quip you were about to levy at him next when his fingers found your clit. You let out a gasping moan instead.

He decided that he already loved that sound. He endeavored to pull it from you, again and again when he began working you open with his fingers and pumping them inside you. He enjoyed seeing you writhe and arch against his hand. Your hands squeezed his arms, his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.

His thumb circled and strummed your clit in a rhythm only he could hear in his head, until you couldn’t help biting your nails into his shoulders when you came. You shuddered your release as your core throbbed with warmth and slick around his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he said. His voice rasped deep with arousal. “Wouldn’t even mind if you did drown me.”

You huffed in response, unable to form speech just now.

Next time, Russell thought. He slipped his fingers out of you and licked them clean, making your eyes widen. He smirked and stroked your thigh as you came down, a shuddering mess.

After taking a second to regain your breath, you pulled him down for a kiss, both grateful and fueled by a passion you couldn’t put into words. What you felt for this man was instinctual, from the moment you saw him. And yet, it was also so much more. It was raw, and real, and maybe even beautiful.

The thought spurred you on as your hands moved with purpose down his body. Your nails caught at the waistband of his boxer briefs as you tried to roll them down. You got it halfway down his thighs, enough to let his hardened length spring free. You bit your lip at the mere sight of him. Goddamn.

Your hand slid around his cock, near its weeping head. You used the beads of wetness there to work your way smoothly down to its base. Russell’s body tensed above you, just before he groaned low in pleasure.

You pushed at his chest to have him let you up.

“Your turn, baby,” you said. It would be one hell of a challenge to get your mouth down that beautiful 44 Magnum, but you were more than willing to try.

To your surprise, Russell shook his head and guided you back down.

“Let’s pin that one for next time too. Wanna be inside you already,” he said.

You blinked, but then you nodded in breathless agreement. He kissed you deeply, devouring you with his teeth grazing your bottom lip. His tongue soon slipped out to soothe it.

“Condom?” he panted, between kisses.

“Oh, yeah. Um…bathroom, bottom drawer,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why you were whispering.

“Okay, two seconds,” he said.

He left you in the bed, quite literally hot and bothered, and very naked. You crossed your arms over your breasts on reflex while you tried to recover. Your core was still tingling, and your heart was beating fast, though you couldn’t stamp out the smile forming on your face.

You heard the sound of foil unwrapping and clothed rustling. When he came back to the bedroom, you finally got a full picture of what you were in for. You unconsciously licked your lips as your gaze dipped down his body, and the indeed impressive package at full mast, and full display.

A grin curved his lips when he caught you staring. He climbed back onto the bed with just a bit of struggle with all the blankets coiled about. He pushed a heavy blanket out of his way, accidentally shoving it to the floor.

“Back to business,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” you agreed, and you welcomed him back, sliding your hands up his arms and shoulders. You hooked your thigh around his hip as he found his way back between your legs. Holding his bearded face in your hands, you pulled him in for another kiss that reignited you both.

He sunk his hand into your hair and treated you to another slow, deep kiss. Until your thigh tightening around his hip urged him to satisfy what you both had been wanting and waiting for.

He grabbed your thighs and angled you higher. Then he lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes, your breaths mingling together, he sheathed himself a little at a time. A keening moan fell from your lips.

He started with shallow thrusts, giving you time to adjust. But that in itself was a torturous tease. It made the coil in your lower belly start to tighten again. Pleasure began to thrum inside you, ever slowly. Your head tipped back into the pillows with a gasp.

“God, Russell, please,” you uttered. You squeezed his arms on reflex, your heels digging into his ass.

“I know, baby. Gonna fucking wreck you, I promise,” he said with a grin.

You huffed in amusement. That was a hefty promise.

Though a moan tore from your throat when he finally bottomed out, stretching your inner walls. He groaned along with you. His lips fastened to your neck as he gave you deeper thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you said raggedly in his ear, raking your fingers through his hair. You felt every damn inch of him.

“You too, baby. So damn good,” he gritted out. “Tell me what you want.”

He raised your thigh a bit higher, his fingers pressing into flesh.

“Ugh, fuck,” you gasped, as he hit a particularly delicious angle. “Whatever you want to give me.”

“You sure about that?” Russell asked, panting against your neck. Your nails dragged down his back between the muscles in his shoulders, hard enough to earn a halting groan from him.

You nodded emphatically. “Yes!”

His lips hinted at a smile. “Okay, hold on."

Before you could even respond, he pulled out of you all the way, just so he could guide you over onto your stomach. He pulled you up onto your hands and knees. As he ran a hand down the gentle slope of your back and around the curve of your ass, you breathed harder in anticipation.

“So damn beautiful,” he muttered.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You unconsciously bit your lip as your heart couldn’t help but swell at his words. Russell met you with a look that betrayed his desire, making your lower belly tremble as well.

He parted your cheeks and slotted himself between your thighs from behind. You once again felt the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, and then pushing back in with one deep plunge. Both of you let out moans of relief at the feeling.

Pretty soon, he was pounding into you deeper and faster than before. Oh, fuck yes…

You clawed at the headboard, trying to find something to keep you stable. Russell’s arm slid around you for a solid support. You held onto him right back with one hand while he continued to drive into you, earning each and every sound coming out of your mouth. He’d finally angled you just right, so he could hit that special spot inside you with every thrust. Your pussy clenched on him in response, making him grunt in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re close. I can fuckin’ feel it,” he said, panting. He laid a biting kiss where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, your inner walls once again squeezing on him.

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “This time, you’re gonna come with me.”

You reached back and tangled your fingers into his hair. He held you to his chest and squeezed your breast a bit roughly. You uttered a wanton sound. You dragged his hand down your body to part your folds. You used his fingers to press against your clit.

He picked up your hint, and then took control, massaging you with his fingers. There you began to tremble from the inside out. Warmth emanated from your core and spread outward, down to your toes as you came even harder on his cock.

Russell wasn’t far behind. His voice joined yours as his body locked up, and he spilled hot into the condom. You almost wished he’d come freely inside you, so you could really feel him. Regardless, your body was boneless when he lowered you down onto the bed afterward.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

He chuckled and kissed your shoulder, before he fully pulled out. Panting for breath though you both were, you managed to twist onto your side and reach a hand for his cheek. Your fingers slipped higher from there, cupping the back of his neck. Your thumb swept tenderly across his cheek, and you guided him down for a proper kiss.

Russell obliged you, his lips meeting yours plush and wet. He brushed strands of your sweaty hair away from your forehead with affection.

Somehow, that last kiss was softer than all the rest.

One thing was for sure though. There was no way you two were making it to breakfast.

“I kind of feel bad now,” you later confessed.

You and Russell were taking a few minutes just to recover under the messy sheets. He held you while sitting up against your headboard. He almost craved a smoke. You’d given him a damn workout.

He smirked at the thought. Admittedly, his mind was more on focused on the scenes replaying in his head than on what you were saying.

“Dory doesn’t get to see you guys that often,” you continued, “and who knows how long Colter will seriously wait for us to get out of bed.”

Russell’s attention drifted back to you at that.

“Come on, it’s not like they know why we’re running late,” he said. You gave him a knowing look.

“Are you kidding? They were already suspicious when you brought me home yesterday,” you replied with a laugh.

Russell grinned and rubbed your arm. He knew you were probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yeah, well. That was damn worth it,” he said.

You smiled. You rolled your head over on his shoulder, so you could see his face, but you became contemplative as uncertainty crept in. You let in a breath to gather your courage, and you decided to take a chance.

Russell smiled at you. He knew what you were suggesting.

He sighed as his amusement faded.

“Look, even if I stay…” he hesitated.

He looked into your eyes and saw the vulnerability there. You were being honest with him, putting your heart into his hands. The least he could do was be honest. He covered your hand where it rested on his chest.

“If I’m on a job, I could be gone weeks at a time. I won’t be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. That’s gonna be hard on you,” he said.

He knew his friend Doug made it work with his wife, but their relationship wasn’t without friction because of the job he and Russell shared.

“I can handle it,” you said firmly.

“You just had a little freak out over a scratch earlier,” Russell pointed out, with a gesturing hand at his bandaged arm.

“Okay, that’s different,” you said.

You wouldn’t say it now, but there were things that still concerned you about his job. You had a strong feeling that "private security" wasn’t all it entailed. However, after what he’d done for you, after what he’d done for Charlie, you knew that Russell Shaw was a good man.

There was something good here, and you didn’t want to lose it this time. You shifted in his arms, so you could face him.

“Look, we can sit down and figure all that out,” you said. “But do you want to at least try? Or…am I reading this wrong?”

Russell stared back at you ruefully. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, grazing your soft skin with his fingers.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

In fact, what he felt already ran deeper with you than he’d like to admit. He let out a long breath through his nose.

“Okay,” he said at last. “If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right, I guess. I’ll book a motel here in town for now. If things go well, I can…I don’t know, find an apartment.”

Your answering smile broke him down further, even as it warmed him inside. You turned over to circle your arms around his neck, and as an added bonus, pressing your bare breasts against his chest. You kissed his cheek with a happy hum. He laughed at your enthusiasm. He also accepted your sweet path of kisses that led to his lips.

He groaned when it became not so sweet, with your tongue slipping hotly against his. His hold on your hips tightened.

“Uh oh. Baby, we can’t do this now,” he chuckled, even though your hand was already wandering down his body and under the sheets. You both were supposed to be getting ready to meet his brother and sister for lunch.

“Five minutes,” you said against his lips. All the while, you were pushing him back onto the bed. You began to kiss down his chest, and lower still.

Russell snorted. Right.

But he wasn’t about to argue with you. He had a gut feeling…one that made him almost certain.

He’d found where he wanted to be.

AN: Well, then! I hope you enjoyed the "happy ending." 😘 I always get a bit sad at the end of a series, but thank you to everyone who's followed the ride on Every Second Counts. Let me know what you thought of how it all shook out here at the end between her and Russell! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Want more ESC? Read the next one-shot, Lost Time (18+):

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lost Time

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grimmsbride · 1 day ago

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ᬊ ᭣֤ࣨ🩸𖥔 ݁ ˖ TAKING OVER ME ཐི♡̵̼͓̥͒̾͘ཋྀ° LOSER! CHOSO KAMO

( you called for me and woke me up … )

video games are addictive, especially when said video game comes to life in the shape of something choso kamo has been craving for ages; a woman.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i got this idea after listening to whatsaheart & remembering that one giffany episode. i also have been seeing “loser!” fanfics and have been intrigued. as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

Hours spent within that chair, sinking into the leather whilst his eyes burned into the screen. One would be surprised how well the bedroom smelled given its’ inhabitants terrible habits. But it was simply a routine for the man; wake up, shower, go to work, come home, shower, and sit down for hours playing that same stupid game.

Choso Kamo doesn’t remember how he got so entranced by it in the first place. Before this, he was a gamer, but not to this extent. He didn’t get so lost in most first person shooters or story based novellas. But this one, this particular game seemed to plague his mind the moment it was downloaded to his pc.

It was an bishoujo game, the storyline entirely dependent on his choices and actions. The main objective was capturing the heart of this beauty known as [Full Name]; someone that stole Choso’s eye far too quickly. He wondered who exactly was the artist behind designing her character; given it was completely flawless. Her sun-kissed skin shined in about every scene, body plump and always dressed in the prettiest outfits.

Plus her hair— always kept in curly braids, cascading down her back in such a delightful fashion the man wondered how it would feel between his fingers.

These thoughts continued to tug at his mind the longer he played, days turning into weeks, and soon months. Choso did feel shame at first. He’s only human after all, and any human is bound to be embarrassed by their own peculiarities. But soon enough that shame was washed away, the longer his eyes settled onto the screen. Choso doesn’t remember the last time he’s even looked at another game— nor did the man care. This beloved Bishoujo.. his beloved [Name] deserved all of his attention after all.

The day was long, filled with endless tasks that slowly began to overload Choso’s brain. He found himself sitting down at times, eyes pinched closed to hopefully find just a bit of solace. Work was always laced with constant stress, his attention regularly needed for assignments that coworkers could easily do. But alas, Choso never said a thing; simply nodding and walking off to complete it. Human interaction was its own struggle amongst the workplace.

But it’s not like it mattered to him, he got enough of it at home; infront of his beloved pc.

That seemed to be the only thing that pushed Choso forward these days. Being able to see [Name]’s face each time his pc started, how her smile lit up the moment he greeted her; features perfectly animated to the point Choso could practically feel her excitement radiating through the screen. She was all he needed now, a simple light in his life to get through even the toughest of days.

So it was only natural that the moment Choso was finished with work he was rushing home, practically tripping over himself to get through the door. With a quick shut and lock the man was tossing his bag to the side, hands reaching for his work uniform to began tugging it off. Routinely he walked towards his bathroom, bare by the time he reached to quickly hop in the shower.

Choso always made it a habit to bathe before seeing her. Delusional? Maybe.. as the ai couldn’t exactly smell him, but it always seemed to freshen Choso’s mind.

After showering the man quickly moved to his bedroom in his towel, drying himself completely before throwing on a simple pair of boxers, sweats, and a tshirt. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he made his way to his gaming chair, pressing the power button of his pc even before sitting down.

Once he did though, Choso’s eyes shined at the bright light of the screen the moment it booted up, fingers resting rather impatiently amongst his keyboard. Shortly after he typed his password in, hand swiftly finding his mouse and dragging the cursor over to that pretty little icon occupying a space on his hot bar.

It only took a couple of seconds for the game to start up, Choso’s heart pounding the moment [Name] came on screen. She was dressed in a simple white button, emulating a sleep scene where Choso accidentally woke her.

Despite this she only smiled, pressing her face into the pillow beneath her.

“Hi Choso..” [Name] sung in that dreamy tone, reaching out towards the screen. Choso was quick to respond, allowing the rest of the world to disappear in that instant. His only focus was her, his perfect [Name], his only objective making her fall more and more in love with her.

He didn’t care about anything else, nothing at all— not even the slight ache in his stomach from hunger. Obsession and addiction all mixed into one terrible, yet exhilarating combination.

Choso rode that high for about two hours before something.. happened.

“What the hell..” His breathing was bated, eerie as darkness invaded his bedroom. So in tune with his game, Choso hadn’t even realized it was thundering outside. Rain pelted down against his home, smoothed out with a sudden crackle every so often. The man quickly deduced his issue to the power going out, a heavy sigh escaping him. He tried not to be annoyed, especially when the game was getting so, so good. He simply hoped auto save was still in effect.

Choso debated on what to do in the meantime. He could sleep, this was the perfect time to after all. Though the fear of his power not coming back racked his mind; what if when he woke up it was still gone? Aside from the game, he needed his computer for emails and other necessities— plus having to move around in the dark just wasn’t as fun as it seemed.

The man lifted his phone, thumbing the case and debating whether to inform the owners of his building. Maybe a quick message will at least give him a time frame or in better scenarios; speed up the process. Choso was hoping for the latter, of course.

Opening up his phone, the gamer made quick work of moving over to his mail app. There, he began to construct an email; being as polite as ever whilst asking how long the power would be out. The subject read for about a single, simple paragraph; his eyes casing his screen every so often to assure his words were concise and civil.

With his attention completely gifted to his phone, it was no surprise the sudden illumination of his room completely startled him— Choso nearly leaping out of his chair, as his heart squeezed. However that fear wasn’t short-lived, instead it increased the moment his eyes settled upon his pc.

The device was still shut off, surely needing to be manually pressed. With the screen black, Choso could see his tired features staring right back at him.. along with, someone else standing right behind him.

The man quickly spun around in his chair, chest tight and breathing hard as what he saw seemed to disappear in thin air.

Choso’s mind was playing tricks, wasn’t it? It had to be! That or spending hours infront of a screen straight was catching up to him at the absolute worst time. It was probably time to go to sleep..

With a heavy breath the man slowly turned back, eyes fluttering and gaze landing on the woman currently sitting right on his desk.

The noise he let out was far from attractive let alone the way he practically flew back out of his chair was even less graceful. With a harsh thud to the ground, Choso groaned heavily, eyes closed and trying to self-soothe.

“Choso! Are you okay?!” A feminine voice practically yelled, the gamer hearing movement coming towards him amidst his pain. A shiver ran down his spine as cold hands made contact with his skin, his eyes spanning open to land on the person before him.

The person being.. you, [Name]. That beloved video game romance thats been on his mind for months.

Choso couldn’t help the pure shock invading his features, struggling to find words as his eyes ran down your form. This had to be a joke, some type of prank a person was playing on him. As, there was no way in hell you, were sitting right before him; touching him so delicately with concern and worry.

“Ho..” The words came slow, a quick nervous swipe of his tongue treading along his bottom lip. “How.. did you get in my house?” Choso finally managed, watching your eyes flick from his body to his face.

With an adorable grin your head tilted a bit, arm outstretched and pointing a manicured finger right to his pc.

“You suddenly left, so I got worried something happened. I came to check on you!”

The words came out so sweetly, and simple; Choso nearly forgetting how worrisome this truly was— and it certainly didn’t help you were suddenly breaching his personal space, slithering your arms around him to cuddle your cheek right against his.

“What..”

“I missed you Choso.” You mumbled softly, sliding a bit to rest your head against his chest. The frantic beating of his heart caused you to smile, head tipping to press your chin against him. You looked at him through your curly lashes, glossed lips parting slowly;

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? Trying to find the perfect time to come out and.. properly see you.” The words were laced with the sweetest honey, causing a shiver to trickle right down Choso’s spine. Here you were, the woman that’s been on his mind for ages and all he could do was sit back and watch; utterly helpless to your existence.

You tried to not let on how much this excited you. How each twitch, sharp breath, and shaky glance of his caused your heart to swell. But you weren’t so discreet, you never were; not with your beloved Choso.

You moved carefully, sliding to sit right in his lap whilst your hands dragged up his chest. His smell was addicting, freshly showered with a hint of mint and pine. You breathed him in deeply, coming closer the moment your arms wrapped around his neck so tenderly.

“I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.. Always wondering how you felt beneath my palms.” You spoke, lips fixated into a little pout as you leaned forward, allowing them to graze the shell of his ear.

“You’ve ruined me Choso.. take responsibility.”

The sharp hiss of your words was the last thing Choso heard, while the next thing he felt was your lips on his. His heart was practically thundering at this point, eyes wide whilst a dark scarlet was painted across his cheeks. Choso’s hands danced about, unaware of what to do. He was clearly inexperienced in this department, stuttering thoughts debating on the proper course of action.

He didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. Shouldn’t he be more worried about your entire existence rather than this silly kiss? What were you anyway!?

All his thoughts seemed to dissipate the moment you kissed harder, your own pretty eyes peering open staring right at him. Fuck, you were dreamy; perfect just like on the screen. Why on earth was he thinking so hard? Here you were, right infront of him, giving him what he’s been craving for years at this point.

It was time for Choso to be a little selfish.

With shaky hands, Choso found your waist, fingers sinking into your flesh and tugging you just a bit closer. He couldn’t help the sense of pride he felt from the happy hum you released right into his mouth, the kiss getting just a bit deeper. Your lips moved with clear experience, taking the reins and dominating his mouth the moment his lips parted.

Choso couldn’t help the downright pathetic whimper that escaped him the moment your wet muscle met his own. He’s imagined what kissing felt like, but never expected for it to feel this good. You marked the dark cavern as your own, licking in spaces that caused the tingles to rush right between his legs.

The man couldn’t help his hips rising, bucking up into you and groaning heavily the moment he made contact with your perfect form. Within moments you were pulling back, a clear string connecting the two of you as heavy breaths fanned between the two of you. Choso shook as your hands found his hot cheeks, spotting the pretty grin pulling your bruised lips.

“Just from a kiss?.. Such a pervert, Choso.”

His eyes went wide at your words, struggling to find his own in defense. But unfortunately he couldn’t, as the moment those pretty hips rolled; he was lost— a complete stuttering mess.

“I..I’m— no..”

“Yo—you’re not?” You mocked sweetly, continuing to roll your hips, gliding your barely covered cunt right against his thick bulge. You leaned over, trailing your lips over his neck; stamping wet kisses and suck against his pale skin.

Focusing on your lips and grinds, Choso barely noticed your fingers sliding under his tshirt until they made contact with his nipple. His eyes shot open, fingers digging into your sides as he felt your two fingers twisting and rubbing against the little bud.

“[Name].. fuck—.. I—!”

You smile right into his neck, continuing the rubbing while increasing your rough grinds. Choso was shaking like a damn leaf at this point, unable to contain the moans escaping his throat. You were barely touching where he needed you most, yet he felt as if he could burst at any time. Normally his inexperience would be a complete embarrassment, but the man was far too focused on the pleasure instead.

You lead your kisses up to his chin, kissing his cheek affectionately and innocently as if you weren’t completely ruining him. “My handsome Choso.. You like this?” Your thumb swept against his hard, abused nipple, a breathy sigh escaping you as you continued your delicious grinds.

Unable to speak affectively the man could only nod, head leaning back against his wall whilst he bucked up into you. Moments of this intensity passed before a sharp groan thundered from his throat, Choso coming undone right there in his pants.

His breathing was hard, gaze hazy as he attempted to relax from his high. Choso felt you lay a kiss right to his nose, the sweetest encouragements falling from your lips shortly after.

“Did so well for me, Choso. Think you can do it again?..” You mumbled softly, hand falling from under his shirt to instead thumb against the waistband of his bottoms. Through a bleary gaze the man took in your features; how your previously sweet smile now resembled a more impish grin. You clearly enjoyed toying with his body, pulling out reactions he didn’t think were even possible.

Yet, Choso didn’t hate this; in fact, it only turned him on even more. Call him a masochist, maybe some freak— it didn’t matter. For, only for you, he would be anything; including putty that you could morph into just about anything you wanted.

With far too much enthusiasm he was nodding his head, your sweet laughter muting all negative thoughts instantly.

You slowly stood over him, smiling down at him as a perfectly manicured finger traced the air right about at his pants.

“Off.”

You spoke simply, fingers then hooking onto your panties. You watched as Choso — not so gracefully — practically rushed to push his bottoms down, revealing sculpted thighs and his hard length. Residue of his previous orgasm was present, coating his angry red tip and dripping down his entire shaft.

What a mess. You thought to yourself, a sense of pride escaping you that only seemed to worsen the moment you noticed Choso’s gaze completely fixated between your legs. He was practically salivating, fingers twitching right in his lap— probably desperate to touch.

You would gift him that right later, for now..

You descended back down, sitting onto his thighs with his length brushing up against you. With a gentle hand you were grasping him, eyes flicking to his face the moment a sharp hiss escaped him.

“So excited.. you want to be inside me so bad, don’t you— Choso?” Your head tilted to the side, lazy strokes being delivered to his weeping cock. He couldn’t help the pitiful thrusts up into your hand, fingers practically scratching as his thighs, as desperation resided right on his features.

“Ye..yes please.. I wan— fuck I want yo—you so bad—!”

You felt your own arousal trickle, deciding to end both of your sufferings right then and there. You grasped his length more firmly, scooting closer and lifting yourself. Lining him up with your entrance you slowly slid down, moaning out as your walls swallowed him carefully.

Choso would have burst right then and there if he wasn’t practically screaming at himself to hold it in. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt your fun. So with a tight lipped groan he felt all of you, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back at the feeling.

His imagination didn’t compare, not one bit.

Soon enough he was fully inside, your arms finding his neck to tug him even closer. You smiled the moment his hands gripped your hips, leaning forward as the sweetest words were pushed right against his lips;

“I love you, Choso.”

Yeah, he was practically begging his body to keep it in at this point.

Through a shaky breath he uttered the same words, fingers digging right into you the moment he felt your hips move. If Choso thought dry humping felt good, the man could only describe this as downright euphoric. With each lift, his length only seemed to leave your cunt for a moment before you quickly dropped back down; enveloping him once again.

Soon enough that pattern, hard and fast; took over his entire body, his lips pulling away from your own to release the loudest moan. His head was lolling to the side, hushed swears escaping his throat. The man couldn’t focus on anything but you; your pretty moans, how you moved those hips so well, your slick walls squeezing him in deeper and deeper— shit you were driving him crazy in the perfect way.

You leaned forward, face digging right into his neck as you struggled to breathe. “Ha..h you feel so good, Choso— fuck!” You whined out, thighs slapping against his own in the most noisy melody. Your nails turned to dig right into his shoulders, holding on desperately like a much needed anchor.

Every so often you felt him meet your drop with his own thrusts, causing your mind to spiral and the sweet moans to release without a second thought. You couldn’t help the way your head was tilting back, thighs squeezing his body so desperately as the pleasure consumed you. You could feel your brain turning into utter mush, center pulsing desperately with an itch for release.

In the midst of the haze Choso could somehow focus, awestruck with the sight before him. He never thought he would reach the day where he laid with a woman, let alone someone as perfect as you. Your golden skin glistened with sweat amongst the illumination of his bedroom, your lips pursed as moans escaped you. It took a full moment for the man to realize it was all because of him; he was the one gifting you such pleasure. No one else, just Choso.

He couldn’t exactly help the joy thrumming throughout his entire body. So much so that the man wanted to give you even more.

Your eyes widened the moment you felt his hands fall from your hips and instead grip your thighs. You went to speak, only for a surprised yelp to escape you instead the moment Choso stood with you his arms. Still snug inside you, the man found the closest surface to lay you upon — his bed — all while sinking deeper into your wet snatch.

“Ch—choso..!” You gasped the moment he went deeper, feeling the bed sink on either side of you from his hands. With your legs hanging on his hips, Choso began to buck; pulling his hips back and forth experimentally for a moment— only for the uncertainty to wash away the moment you began to cry out.

“Sh..shit you feel.. so good!” Little tears began to build up in your eyes, hand turning and scratching at his bedsheets; curling them into your fists so tightly you would surely rip a hole.

Choso panted above you, black strands hanging in his face. Though the moment they invaded his vision the man was lifting his hand, running his fingers through them to push to the back. Finally your pretty features came back into view, causing his dick to swell even more if possible.

“Does that feel good, [Name]? So fucking wet.. you’re making a mess.”

You whined at his words, lips fixated into a pout as you couldn’t even think to respond. You could only wrap your legs tight around his waist, chasing that itch deep inside.

And as that bubble deep in your lower stomach seemed to swell, moans, expletives, and his name came out in a drawn out fashion; tongue wicked and loose from the pleasure. You wondered if people next door could hear, probably annoyed by all the sound.

Even so, you didn’t care at the moment to apologize.

Choso brought himself to lay on his forearms, driving his cock deeper and stirring you up; tip brushing right against your g-spot— stars dancing in your vision. His heavy breaths fanned against your already hot skin, your hands rising to claw at his covered back.

“G—gonna cum, gonna cum— hm!”

With furrowed eyebrows Choso seemed to slam himself even deeper, chasing your voice and ever so desperate to make you finish.

“All over me.. please, make a mess all over me [Name].. fuck— you feel so good, I can’t think!”

Whimpers etched into his speech, his eyes rolled back the moment your cunt clenched, obeying his wish and making a complete mess of his cock. Shortly after Choso was driving himself forward, flooding you with his own orgasm— a deep groan escaping his abused throat.

Heavy pants were passed between the two of you, Choso coming to lay his face between your breasts, trying to relax from his high.

You breathed deeply through your nose, hands sliding to his hair and raking your fingers between the pretty, slick strands.

“I don’t wanna go back.” You mumbled softly, eyes flicking down to Choso who was already staring at you.

“Then don’t.. stay here, with me. Please.”

Your lips curled into a smile, sliding your fingers against his scalp.

“Of course, Choso. You’re mine and I’m yours— forever and always.”

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theratpy · 3 days ago

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i love this series, Ratticus’ character and family feel incredibly real its a little surreal. i was wondering is the whole webseries inspired by real life events? i hope thats not too personal to ask but the writting and characters feel so comforting to see, like watching your therapy sessions from afar.

Hi Anony-mouse!

Yes, the webseries is absolutely inspired by my own experiences, but is definitely not parallel! Both Ratticus and Dr. Zo were originally made as extensions of different parts of myself, and my intent at the start was for them to just be outlets for smaller animations that didn't amount to a bigger story, like this one:

However, enough people fell in love with them in concept that a whole world begged to be built around them! I spent weeks writing fervently, then months on animating the pilot almost nonstop. Then when I finally posted it and took some time to reread over other stuff I'd written for what came next, only then did I notice how many scenes have sprinkles of my own experiences, and how many are planned that are all twisted up in a way that it'd be hard to pick out what exactly is fiction and what is not. And, I like that it's like that!

I've been in a lot of therapy for a lot of reasons, one of them being having my own issues with intrusive thoughts, and definitely pull from that heavily. I've also just hardly seen any media about intrusive thoughts, about how they can affect someone day to day, about how they can be both a cause or a symptom of a lot of emotional dysregulation and neglect and a lack of having a reliable support system or proper attention and care at a young age. And they lead to or stem from a lot of other problems. I really would have benefited from seeing a character go through some of that and struggle with intrusive thoughts, to know it wasn't just me. Especially because, some of what I have planned to animate is going to get pretty ugly in a way that I hope I'll be able to navigate well and do justice to! And hopefully keep an overall comforting feel to Theratpy :))

I'll leave you with, it's always easier to write what you know!! Here's two Ratticus gifs of two moments I felt were relevant to this post. Thanks for your ask, and happy holidays and new year to you!! <3 Melby, aka beetlerat

#theratpy #i love you guys #ratticus #dr zo

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 days ago

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Hi! I didn’t find any information of you ask box is open or not so I hope I’m not bothering!!

But if it’s open could you please do a bayverse or 2003 turtles x reader Headcanon of maybe their first makeout sesh as either a couple or crushes and the sexual tension is so THICK it leads dry humping? To them maybeeeee both 💦 undone while at it? Pls and thank you

(Also random comment since we are already here: Idk why ppl don’t talk about dry jumping anymore !!!!! Something about it is so vulnerable and passionate, the heavy breaths, the heat between each others bodies, the touch between both lips, the uncertainty of both parties if pushing boundaries… but if so then why does it feel so good? and the craving for more!!!! AH !!!! anyways it’s intimate it’s hot and ppl should write about it, thanks for coming to my Ted talk )

First Makeout Session (18+)

2003!Turtles x reader

A/N: The information about my Inbox is under my request rules, but luckily for you, they are open😉 I decided to let the lucky wheel decide between Bayverse and 2003, and it picked 2003💚 I’ve focused more about the makeout session itself, with a little bit of dry humping. I like the idea, so if you want me to make one mainly focused on that, then please let me know. Other than that, I hope you’ll enjoy💚

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Makeouts of course, dry humping, grinding, groping, implied sex, implied first time.

Leonardo:

You and Leo’s first kiss was sweet and passionate, coming shortly after the two of you had admitted your feelings for one another. But your first makeout session came a few weeks into your relationship.

It was late at night in Leo’s room, where you had decided to stay overnight. You and Leo had been cuddling for hours, talking in the low light of the lamp on his nightstand, when you found yourselves tangled up in each other’s arms, with your lips locked in sync.

It started off rather soft, but slowly took up momentum, until your tongues were dancing together, exploring each other’s mouths, small sounds escaping your mouths.

Leo couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips against you, enjoying the sounds that it made you do. He could keep going. He could flip you onto your back and take you right then and there. But in the end he decided against it. It was too early in your relationship.

Instead he stopped, kissed you all over your face and told you he loved you. And you in turn smiled, understanding what was going on, before snuggling closer to him, hiding your face against his plastron.

Raphael:

You and Raph’s first makeout session came as soon as it was possible. It was what came right before Raph finally confessed his feelings for you, while the two of you were still catching your breaths, arms still wrapped around each other, minds still clouded with love, lust and wonder.

It happened at your place. Raph had decided to stay over for the evening, so the two of you could do as so many best friends do, and hang out, talking about anything between heaven and earth, watching a movie or a tv show, or just enjoying your time together.

How the kiss came about however, is something neither you or Raph is fully aware of. One moment you were talking on the couch, laughing and having fun. The next moment he was on top of you, your lips locked together in a battle of dominance.

Your legs wrapped as far as they would go around Raph, welcoming him as he grinded against you, pushing his cloaca against your clothed core, causing sounds of pleasure to escape the two of you.

In the end, Raph won the battle of dominance, wrapping a hand around your throat, keeping you breathless in place, placing one last on your lips, before leaning back to look you directly in the eyes, your arms came up around his shoulders. And there, he told you the worlds that would start your relationship.

Donatello:

It’s hard to say when exactly you and Donnie had your first makeout session, as it was a slow progression, starting from your first kiss, to the day there was definitely no doubt what was on your mind. It was a natural progression that took place, ever since your first - sweet and innocent kiss - to the hot and heavy kiss that led to your first time together.

The first time your kiss took the first step from sweet and innocent to something more steamy, was a few weeks into you and Donnie’s relationship. Donnie was following you home, making sure that you got there safely. It was there, on your fire escape, as Donnie kissed you goodbye, that your kiss turned from a small peck, into something more intense, your lips moving together and your arms around each other, feeling each other’s shoulders, arms and torso. But at that time, it didn’t move much further than that.

The second time it took up a little more steam. With Donnie in his lab, you decided to take a seat directly on his thighs. Here your kiss just felt natural, and it felt natural for Donnie to rest his hand on your rear end, before giving it a squish, feeling your hand roam up and down his chest.

The third time was when there was no longer any doubt, that your kissing now was comfortable enough, to evolve into a full blown makeout session. This time Donnie didn’t just follow you home, but found himself pushed up against you on the fire escape, your back against the wall next to your window, grinding against each other, before you invited Donnie inside.

Michelangelo:

You and Mikey’s first makeout session was probably the most lewd and sloppiest, hot and heavy, yet a very playful thing. It was very early in your relationship with Mikey. You were over in the lair late one evening, playing video games with Mikey in the dark. It was long after the rest of Mikey’s family had gotten to bed, leaving the two of you alone on the couch.

Here the two of you laughed, playing one round of your favorite games after the other, playfully teasing each other so that you could get the upperhand in the game. It turned into the two of you playfully pushing each other to throw you off your game, to climb over each other to get in order to block each other’s view of the screen.

However, it didn’t take long before you and Mikey dropped your controllers onto the ground, forgetting all about the game playing in the background, as you found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms, you straddling Mikey’s lap, with his hands on your ass, pushing you against him in fluid motions. Small moans escaped your moving lips with every laboured breath, your grinding and humping against each other only growing stronger and faster.

Not only did you and Mikey have your first makeout session on the couch in the lair, but it was on the same couch, that same evening - while keeping quiet so no one would wake up and notice - that you had your first time.

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berberriescorner · 16 hours ago

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A Cozy Christmas Gift🎄♥️

Character: Husband!Manny (Mayans MC) x Black!Reader.

Word Count: 900+.

"A Season of Love Christmas Series 🎄♥️"

The soft glow of early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue in the room. You stirred awake, the peaceful atmosphere wrapping around you like a soft blanket. Christmas morning had finally arrived, and as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your husband, Manny, still sprawled out beside you. His short hair was slightly askew in that effortlessly charming way, and his lips curled into a relaxed smile in his sleep.

A fond smile crept onto your face as you reached out, brushing your fingers along his arm. The faint sound of holiday music floated in from the living room, mingling with the faint smell of something sweet in the air. It wasn’t long before you felt a soft squeeze on your hand, and Manny’s eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, wifey,” he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep. He shifted closer, draping an arm over you, pulling you against him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better now,” you replied, grinning up at him. “But you might need to step up your game if you want to win ‘Best Christmas Husband’ this year.”

Manny chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve.” He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, his warmth igniting a spark of anticipation within you.

You could feel the excitement building. “What surprises? You know I love surprises!” you exclaimed, leaning into him, eager to see what he had planned.

“Why don’t you get dressed and come out to the living room?” he suggested, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quick!” You hopped out of bed, a flutter of excitement filling your stomach. You quickly dress in your favorite sweater and leggings, the soft fabric hugging your curves comfortably.

As you made your way to the living room, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet aroma that had drawn you from your cozy nest. The moment you stepped into the room, your heart skipped a beat.

The space had been transformed into a magical reading nook. Custom shelves lined the walls, filled with an array of books in various sizes, colors, and textures. A plush armchair sat invitingly in the corner, draped with a soft blanket and positioned near a window that streamed in warm sunlight. The perfect spot for curling up with a book.

“Manny! This is amazing!” you gasped, your eyes wide with wonder. “I can’t believe you did all this!”

He shrugged, a proud smile spreading across his face. “You’ve talked about wanting a reading nook for ages. I figured this was the year to make it happen.”

You walked closer, running your fingers over the shelves in awe. “But how did you manage to pull this off after I went to bed last night? This looks like it took forever!”

He chuckled, his confidence evident. “Well, I may have had some help from the guys. A little Christmas Eve teamwork goes a long way.”

“Seriously? You roped them into this?” You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you got them to come over for a reading nook makeover while I was asleep.”

“Don’t underestimate my charm,” he teased, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. “But there’s more.”

You looked closer and saw a beautifully wrapped box resting on the arm of the chair. With eager hands, you unwrapped it to reveal a stunning deluxe edition set of the Legacy of Gods series. Your heart swelled with joy. “Oh my god! I’ve been wanting these forever! How did you know?”

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to meet your gaze. “You’ve dropped enough hints about it over the past year. Plus, I know how much you love to get lost in those stories.”

You grinned, feeling overwhelmed with affection. “You went all out, huh?”

“You deserve it,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “You work hard, and I know how much your reading means to you. I wanted to create a space where you can escape whenever you want.”

“Thank you, Manny. This is the best gift ever,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed into his eyes.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “It’s not just the gifts, though,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m also here to keep you company while you read. I can think of plenty of ways to distract you.”

“Oh really?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow playfully.

He smirked, his confidence radiating. “Oh, yeah. I can help you figure out how to properly appreciate those books. Starting with a few of my own ideas…”

You laughed, your heart racing as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body radiating against yours. “I think I’m going to love this reading nook even more than I thought.”

Manny’s grin widened, his playful demeanor shifting into something more heated. “Just wait until you see what else I have planned for our Christmas day,” he teased, leaning down for another kiss.

As the kiss deepened, all thoughts of books and cozy reading corners faded away, replaced by the magnetic chemistry between you two. The world outside melted away, leaving just you and Manny in your little oasis of love and laughter. This Christmas was shaping up to be unforgettable, filled with surprises, warmth, and the promise of stolen moments together.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!

Tagging some lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@ravennaortiz @1andonlytashae @amorestevens

@olyvoyl @rio-reid-whoreee @prettyyybrownroundd

@novaniskye @starrynite7114

#daddy manny #manny mayans #mayans mc #manny mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #manny x black reader #mayans mc x black reader #berberriescorner #christmas fic #manny #manny montana

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housederiva · 2 days ago

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so now that veilguard is out and digested, what would you say the best place for a complete newcomer to get into dragon age is? does origins still hold up as a fun opening game fifteen years later?

Dear listener my advice is to play Veilguard before the first 3 installments. I genuinely believe that it would be enjoyed more if you don't know what has been lost/what has been taken from you cut beforehand. The only thing from the first 3 installments that matter in Veilguard is one possible choice your Inquisitor makes, romancing Solas (If you don't have a previous inquisitor I highly recommend making her a Lavellan who was/is in love with him in Veilguard's cc, they have a beautiful story)

While Veilguard is a good RPG, it is not a good Dragon Age game. If you know what shoulders it's standing on, the luster will wear off very quickly. I love it for what it is and I will mourn it for what it is not - and that's okay in a sad, almost bitter way. Inquisition was game of the year for a reason and subsequently Veilguard wasn't mentioned at all for another

On the flip side though (and please keep in mind I'm saying this as someone who played origins in 2009) Origins, Awakening, 2, Inquisition, and most of their DLC's are a branching, beautiful story that will leave a permanent mark on your heart And you can choose what those marks are because your actions in origins ripple out into Inquisition (some more so than others). It will echo out through any other media you love in the future and depending on how old you are it will rewire bits of your brain because let me tell you playing Inquisition at 15 did something to me. Yes, the combat mechanics aren't the greatest in Origins and 2 is a little annoying to play on PC but their stories are wonderful...

What is it like to be thrust into a position of importance and did it stem from choice or survival? Is conscription liberating or a chain of resentment? What is it like to lose your home only to slowly build another that you love and cherish just to watch it crumble away? To know that no matter what you do, it was for nothing? What does it mean when you are suddenly a beacon of hope for a people that possibly are not even your own? What does it feel like to be held in such a regard that you are seen as the voice of a god and no longer a person? Are you afraid that your name will be erased - your culture will be erased, and you will just remain your title just like the one that came before you?

If you have no prior experience with Dragon Age play Veilguard first. That way you won't be upset about what has happened to [redacted's] character or the fact that tranquility is never mentioned and several other things that I don't need to go into here. But without playing the others first, you won't understand the severity of the Blight, your tether Varric won't be as strong, the injustice done to the elves and dalish will go unnoticed. You won't know what it means to be a mage in southern Thedas. You won't know what it means to be castless or saarebas, you won't know what vallaslin is.

If Veilguard is the first experience you have with Dragon Age then you won't know the teeth the series used to have, you'll only have what they're passing off as a growl and you'll be satisfied with that

#sorry if this is too long of an answer I typed it out while staring at the ocean in the rain #asks for bee #dragon age #when Veilguard hits the mark it fuckin hits it but when it misses? woof

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msfandomsblog · 18 hours ago

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Alastor x fem!ballerina-reader

This is my first alastor x reader fic! I don't know how many parts imma make but it will be somewhat a slow burn.

Also this is mostly your backstory

Hope you enjoy!

warnings: use of y/n, being laughed at, implied death, blood, readers insane like Al, guns, suicide, kinda short anddddddd yeah

In life you were one of the greatest pointe dancer in the world. In death, eh, not so much. Yes you danced but this was simple practice, hell wasn't exactly known for its refined~ practice. Your demon form was simple, you were tall (charlie sized) pale and had small wings on your back. Swan wings, that you could enlarge in and out at your will, not that you usually needed to. You mostly had them compact to your back. Most of your friends wondered why you were in hell to begin with, you were always civil to most characters. There was ofc the off-hand time where you'd threaten any demon who'd dare touch you or close friends, but... who's keeping count!?

As for the reason why you were there well... yes being a dancer had its purks but, it had just as many faults.

More then once at a young age in life you were cast for the villain rolls of dances, plays, etc.

You asked you teachers why and their answer was always, "the way you play it y/n! your body language, face and being on stage! you just do it so well"

As you progressed through as an actress and dancer you were never the 'princess' or the main heroin. Only the dark, cold villain. The black swan, The mouse king, Maleficent. How you longed to be the beauty and not the beast.

Not only did this anger you but soon after a while many other dancers would avoid you because of your 'villain' demeanor on stage. This caused you to grow a hatred for your fellows. It all became too much one day.

It was dress rehearsal, your last one before your last show, and the boys got a wise idea for a prank to play on their black swan. When rehearsing your first entrance you moved over to stage right when suddenly a type of slime/glue pored on you, burning your eyes and ruining your clothes. Then the lead boy shot what looked like a party popper at you but instead of confetti, landed black feathers. The boys were on hunched over laughing, 'childish' you thought while glaring at them.

Every other dancer turned their heads or ran over to see what was oh so funny. Once they all started laughing or turned their head to hide smiles, the director yelled at them all, "oi! that's enough, this isn't a baby recital that you did when you were 5! this isn't mature! Boys, help y/n and run 40 laps around the stage ey?" But it was too late, you'd decided right then and there.

So they saw you as the villain hm? You'd be happy to oblige.

The next day you played your part amazingly well but it was your next audition that excited you. It was for the seasonal part in the nutcracker. As always you were given the part, The mouse king.

When you met the lead playing Clara, the young girl heroin, you saw she was a perfectly civil young dancer. She met her end quickly enough tho.

When you came around to auditioning for The Sleeping Beauty and once again did not get Aurora, you found it quite enjoyable to get rid of the blonde broad that played her.

Then there was Romeo and Juliet. you never did audition for this one, reasons unknown to you. But when you did you somehow found that you felt no sadness you got the email saying that you didn't get the part of Juliet. You instead found joy when you cracked a wide smile as the blood of the girl who did get the part flowed down your hands.

Pretty thing she was, good dancer too. poor thing. ah well.

After about 3 years of of getting away with this little 'hobby; of yours you were found out and surrounded by a large S.W.A.T team. The team leader spoke softly to you.

"Miss y/n, please put your hands up, and drop the gun."

You were so annoyed by this, you'd had to use the damn thing to kill a small African-american girl who was playing Coopelia. You didn't like using guns but this was supposed to be quick. You'd even bought a silencer for the job.

"No officer, I don't think I will." You said back. you smiled as you turned to face the 20 guns pointed at you.

"You won't make it out alive L/n" He said trying to convince you.

"I don't plan on it," And smiling you flipped them off as you shot the gun at your own neck.

OKKKKKKK that was part 1! I hope ya'll like it and stay tuned for more. I don't know if you could tell but I am ballet dancer, I'm not professional yet but I know quite a bit.

y/n might be ooc just a warning but again my first fic sooooo.

Anyway!!!!!! have a good day/night little humans!

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #fanfic #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin au #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #ballet dancer

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kalinara · 2 days ago

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So as someone who immensely enjoys disliking Charles Xavier, I have to admit, I was utterly delighted when the X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (in Krakoa age, one of the rare times it did not involve Nature Girl murdering people) decided to do what is, essentially, an "It's a Wonderful Life" plot for the guy.

So if even if you've never seen the original movie that the plot comes from, you've undoubtedly seen a parody or homage, (at least if you're American). Sitcoms particularly like to use the idea, but occasionally even serious shows will do it too. A character goes through some shit, is dreadfully unhappy, and is shown what life would be like without him.

Now the thing about X-Men, is that we did see what the world would be like without Charles Xavier in the Age of Apocalypse storyline. And admittedly, it's pretty bad. Scott has long hair. Enough said.

And of course, the gist of this story is that Xavier ends up in the Age of Apocalypse world (or maybe just dreaming about it), and introduces them to the Krakoa concept and gets a big ego boost.

It is what it is. The part that amuses me is what drives Xavier to the point of needing this ego boost. And it is an AMAZING level of petty.

Since there are a lot of scans, I'm going to put them behind a cut. Enjoy! (These are all from X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic #62, by the way.)

So we start off with Xavier's daily schedule:

It's a pretty busy itinerary, admittedly. So now, let's see how Xavier's day actually goes.

We actually start off with Xavier waking up, disgruntled, at 6:00 AM. I'm not actually going to show this, because I am not a morning person either and can't make fun of him for it.

Also, he's shirtless, and not being named Max or Erik, I am not into that. Sorry.

But, let's look at the rest.

6:30's resurrection of Rusty Collins

Xavier was apparently a bit slow, and Hope decided to resurrect the dude without him. That happens. You can hardly blame a teenager for leaping at the chance at grown-up responsibility.

Also, she's a Summers. So it's pretty much inevitable.

So then we get the 7:45 meet and greet.

A small child adores Kitty. Kitty is a little meta here, but not wrong. After all, part of what the Marauders do, at this point, is rescue people.

Now, Xavier looks kind of neutral here, but given that this is part of the litany of disappointment, contextually, one must interpret this to mean he is disappointed.

But here's the thing, Chuck. You're not an "X-Man". You're the dude who sends them out from the shadows. You didn't even publicly admit to being a mutant for decades. And while, yes, you did have some physical issues that made being a field operative impossible, it's not like you're going out on rescue missions NOW.

Sorry, I shouldn't rant. There's more to mock.

So how does the 9:15 teaching session go? We don't actually know. Presumably it's not notable. Despite the fact that teaching is the one thing Xavier can claim he actually does.

Instead, we skip ahead to the 11:05 parole hearing:

I mean, you can't actually be surprised by this. I'm not even sure that Sabretooth is still IN there. But he's busy torturing people, if he is. So no, he's not getting out.

You could let the kids out though. Poor Idie.

This bit makes me laugh:

Got stood up by the guy whose mind you forcibly wiped. You can't be shocked by this, Chuck. That was a fucking dick move and you know it.

(Especially since you decide that Franklin isn't a mutant after all.)

How about the X-Corp Review?

Huh, who'd have thought that multi-millionaire business people would have the business shit handled?

I mean, to be fair to Charles, he does seem to never lack money, so he likely has business sense himself. But meh. I can't blame Warren and Monet for wanting to go off and canoodle or whatever.

I admit to some sympathy here, just a bit:

I've mentioned that I'm not a really a fan of the Arakko focus on Omega mutants, and how that kind of spoils my enjoyment of Storm basically being amazing up there. (I feel like it'd be more satisfying to have a non-Omega show them that sheer power isn't the only measure of awesome. I did like watching her use teamwork to kick Vulcan's ass though.)

That said, why did you not realize this would be a thing, Xavier? Arakkans make no secret of how their society works.

Now, sadly, we skip the legal conference about the X-Babies. Presumably it goes well and no one mocks Xavier, but I'm kind of fascinated by the idea.

But then we get the official Treehouse lighting ceremony:

...are you really feeling left out because your two former child soldiers are getting honored as "mutantkind's greatest heroes".

Fucking REALLY?

Are you living among humans and saving them from various threats? Heck, are you sticking around to help hand out meals, as the mayor mentions? Because you're not down there, and your itinerary says you'll be having a meeting about Orchis with Beast in like an hour.

It presumably goes well, because we skip ahead to sparring with Logan.

This goes pretty straightforward. They have a heart to heart, which I appreciate, because I'm still utterly boggled by that bit in X Lives of Wolverine where he claims that, despite their respective ages, Logan sees Chuck as a father figure.

By the way, Logan doesn't act like a "son" in this scene at all. He does give some legitimately good advice though and asks the question that's the point of all this:

And for FUCK'S SAKE, Xavier. The fact that this is apparently an armor piercing question, after a day where the WORST thing that happened to you was having a few appointments go on without you, getting stood up by a dude who's got every reason to dislike you, and seeing Kitty, Scott and Jean get SOME MEASURE of weak recognition.

THAT's what leads to the "It's a Wonderful Life" moment?

I mean, presumably, the interview with Trish Trilby which happens before the sparring match goes well. Meaning you're going to be on the fucking news as the face of Krakoa again. But that hardly matters because the Mayor of New York considers your SURROGATE CHILDREN to be the greatest heroes.

You couldn't even be HAPPY for them?!

(I also can't help but note that upon meeting AoA Cyclops, who assumes Xavier is an escaped clone and tries to kill him, we see no sign of the ACTUAL character's complexity or depth. He's just a random villain here. Because in the end, it's all about Xavier's ego.

He does refer to Scott as "the most pragmatic man I've ever known", which is a really interesting description that I'm not sure I agree with. But that's an analysis for another day.)

Anyway, as mentioned, the rest of the story is basically just fueling Xavier's ego. I mean, Age of Apocalypse IS a hellhole. (Though a friend of mine suggested once that possibly the only thing Age of Apocalypse proved that Xavier was necessary for is preventing Mr. Sinister from regaining control of Cyclops. I think I'd have to reread the story to see if I agree, but since I hate Xavier, I DO like that thought.) And he does bring them Krakoa and joy.

But I'm just going to bask in the fact that Xavier's deepest pain on Krakoa is that someone occasionally recognizes other people instead of him. I bet he hated Scott's Rolling Stone cover too. :-D

#xavier's a jerk #scott summers #cyclops #is in here but not a big role #lots of other x-men are here too #mostly this is about mocking xavier

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raffe156 · 2 days ago

Text

Breakaway State Part 6

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - Finally, finally, finally

This one is a little dark towards the end, Not much of Price but this is the bridge chapter for what’s to come an I’m so thankful for all those who have waited patiently I love you all.

Warnings -17+ Angst. Language, Age gap Price (38) Tank (26), Violence, abuse, abuse of power, controlling behaviour, injury, implied torture, death.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd, Mckinley, Crest and Falkirk.

“Thank fuck for that…” Mckinley’s laugh echoed through the van as it pulled away from the base. He turned in his seat, trying to catch your eye, but you only gave him a brief glance before turning to take one last look at the place you were leaving behind. You spotted Kyle just as the van rounded the corner—he would understand.

Once you were on the road, Mckinley couldn’t help himself.

“I hope you lot realize how good you have it,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence.

The van stayed quiet.

“Don’t any of you get any ideas about wearing a Halloween mask, either. I’ll shut that shit down before it starts… I’m looking at you, Dredd…” Mckinley chuckled, but the others remained silent. The lack of response was like a cold slap, and you could see it was starting to eat at him. No one found him funny, and it irritated him. Unfortunately for you, you were right in his line of sight. A nasty grin crept across his face.

“You going to sort things out with your fella before we head out?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, watching for your reaction.

“Nothing to sort out…” you muttered, knowing exactly who he meant—Luke. You kept your eyes glued to the window, hoping he’d drop it.

“Haha, yeah right. There’s plenty to sort out. From what I hear, he’s playing the field while you’re off fighting in it. But then again, you’re not entirely innocent, are you? Little sleepovers with Price, weekends away with him. Dirty dog.” Mckinley shook his head, clearly enjoying himself.

You could feel the tension in the van rise, and it wasn’t just McKinley—everyone was listening now. You felt Dredd shift behind you, ready to jump in.

“Weekends away?” Crest’s voice cut through the tension, his head raising slightly, his interest piqued.

McKinley smirked triumphantly, like a predator who’d just caught its prey. “Yep, escape-to-the-country style. Up at Price’s house in Hertfordshire—nice and secluded. Found out from his missus, you know, the Doc at the base? The Irish one?”

The words hit you like a punch. McKinley knew exactly which buttons to push, and now, the squad’s attention was fully on you. A few brows raised, and you could feel the heat of their stares.

Dredd, bless her, quickly came to your defense. “It wasn’t just them two! Kyle was there, too. Doesn’t sound like a romantic weekend to me, does it?” She let out a soft laugh, trying to defuse the situation.

“They weren’t together..”

“What was that?” McKinley cupped his ear, feigning ignorance, his grin widening.

“They weren’t together… not that it matters.” The words came out sharper than you intended, your blood starting to boil.

Dredd’s hand squeezed your arm from behind, a silent plea to let it go, but it was too late. McKinley had already pushed you too far.

“Not what the Doc said, though,” he said with a mock sigh. “Ah well, only you and Price know what really went on. I wonder if that’s why you transferred?” He turned back around in his seat, content with himself.

The seed had been planted. To the rest of the team, you were now a suspected homewrecker—and worse, the home you’d wrecked was that of your former captain.

The squad exchanged a few fleeting glances, the tension palpable. No one spoke for the rest of the ride, and the silence in the van was deafening as the weight of McKinley’s words hung heavily in the air.

*********************

“I’m not looking forward to this…” You thudded your head back against the stained headboard, the frustration evident in the gesture.

“Just leave him on read,” Dredd muttered, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to yours, casually rolling a cigarette. “He already thinks you’re gone for a while.”

The motel room was a depressing sight, tucked away near the ship-out base, its stale air heavy with the smell of smoke and spilled beer. The two creaky single beds groaned under the smallest movements, their springs long past their prime. They had definitely seen better days, but at this point, it didn’t matter. As long as the door locked and kept Mckinley out, it might as well have been the Radisson.

“I can’t leave him on read,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t want him thinking he has to wait around for me… He has no obligation to me. I’ve told him that from day one. He deserves more than this. Hell, I might not even make it back—might get taken out, put out of my misery.” You threw your hands up in mock exasperation, but the thought wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded. For you, and for people like you, that card was always ready to be pulled. It hovered, high in the deck, just waiting for the right moment.

“More like put down by Mckinley,” Dredd said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She wasn’t wrong.

Before you could even let that sink in, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Luke. Your stomach dropped, a strange weight settling in your chest. Why did this feel like a breakup? Could it even be classified as that? You’d never made things official. Hell, he didn’t even know what you did for a living. As far as he knew, you were just working abroad, setting up a logistics depot. Was it a breakup? Or just… a break? You hadn’t even thought about what to say, hadn’t planned for this moment.

“You gonna answer that, or you actually going to take my advice for once?” Dredd’s voice cut through the silence as she leaned out the window, struggling to light her cigarette.

Before you could even process, she was already at your side, grabbing the phone and answering it for you. With a flick of her wrist, she put it on speaker, then casually leaned back out the window, puffing smoke as if nothing was amiss.

The phone crackled to life.

“Hey, city girl.”

You took a breath, your heart suddenly heavy. “Hey… you okay?”

Dredd was still trying to push herself further out the window. You glanced at her, then back at the phone. For a split second, you thought about joining her.

****************************

Price sat at his desk, shuffling through papers that required his attention, but his mind wasn’t on the job. He lacked the patience, the energy—anything really—to deal with the endless stack. But more than anything, he couldn’t shake the thought that you were gone. Not just off base, but probably out of the country. That fact was hard to swallow. Yet, as the door to his office creaked open, there was a fleeting moment of hope—hope that you’d walk through it, storming in with that familiar, thunderous look on your face, ready to give him an earful. You’d tell him what a twat he was, how you wanted to come back, to come home. But no… standing in the doorway, where you should be, was Kyle, holding a mug with a large carp on the front and the words “Master-Baiter” emblazoned across it.

It was another secret Santa gift from you to Soap. The memory made Price chuckle despite himself, recalling the pride on your face as Soap unwrapped it, immediately accusing Ghost of being the culprit and starting one of his usual ruckus-filled tirades. The theme for the gift exchange had been “shit mugs.” Soap had Ghost, who received a blank mug that only revealed its true message—C*NT—when it was heated, drawing laughs every time someone used it. Kyle had drawn Price’s name, gifting him a mug that read “World’s Best Dad.” Price had smiled when he opened it, raising an eyebrow and saying, “Thanks, SON.” Kyle had sworn blind that he’d ordered “World’s Best Boss” instead, but either way, it was perfect. Ghost had given Kyle the “Shit in Bed” mug, and Price had watched with a wry smile as you unwrapped yours, reading the words “Accident Prone” across the front.

“Very funny!” You had swatted his arm, and he’d laughed.

“Glad you like it,” he had said, his grin widening.

“Very fitting, lass,” Soap had added, raising his mug in a mock toast. The rest of you had joined in, clinking mugs and sharing a moment of camaraderie.

The memory faded, and Price snapped back to the present. Kyle was now sitting in the chair across from him, carefully placing the “Master-Baiter” mug on his desk, his face a mix of concern and hope.

“You heard anything?” Kyle asked, voice tight.

“Not a thing, lad. All hush-hush on this one,” Price replied, leaning back in his chair and taking a slow sip from the mug. “Not even Laswell’s got a whiff of anything. It’s one of those ‘need to know’ deals, and right now, we don’t need to know, I guess.”

Kyle’s face darkened, and he started picking at his nail—a nervous habit that only appeared when he was truly wound up.

“Fuck’s sake… don’t ask me why, but I’ve just got a bad feeling about the whole thing.”

“Same, lad… same.” Price’s voice was grim, his eyes distant as he looked out the window. The weight of the situation hung heavy between them.

*******************************************

You couldn’t even remember how long you’d been sitting in the freezing cold truck. All that mattered was staying close to Crest—he was like a human furnace, a welcome warmth in the biting chill. You shifted closer to him in the front seat as the truck rumbled through the quiet streets of Tiraspol. The streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows across the road, and you knew you weren’t far from the safe house.

Crest was a soft-spoken Yorkshireman, a man you knew only in passing. He had served briefly with your first captain, Falkirk, and often spoke of him with a fondness that made it clear the two shared a bond. Over time, you’d found common ground in stories of Falkirk and tales of the infamous 141. Crest, with his quiet admiration, had something of a man crush on Price—something you couldn’t ignore. It showed in the way he’d let his beard grow out, shaving only the center to mimic Price’s signature look. And when he spoke, most of his questions were about Price, with a few curious ones about Ghost thrown in for good measure.

“Does he sleep in the mask?” Crest asked, voice thick with curiosity—he was voicing the question that had been on everyone’s mind.

“He does, yeah.” You smirked, recalling the moment vividly. “Shit me up one night. I’d just come off watch, crashed out on one of the mattresses, and rolled over to find bam—his bloody skull mask, just staring at me. What made it worse was that his eyes were closed, so all I could see were these pitch-black holes in the dark. I nearly had a heart attack, rolled right off the bed, and landed on Soap. He starts shouting, waking up the whole room. Price comes running, thinking we’ve been made, and Ghost just sits up, all casual, asking why I’m on the ground next to Soap.”

The memory made you smile.

“Sounds like a right laugh,” Crest muttered, raising an eyebrow. “But, uh… how does he eat or shower with that thing on? Does he shower with it?”

He furrowed his brow, clearly trying to picture how Ghost managed to drink a cup of tea with that mask on. It wasn’t a pleasant image.

“Jesus, Crest, how would she know if he showers with the damn thing on?” Dredd chimed in from the backseat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Plus, if she’d seen him in the shower, don’t you think I’d be the first to know something so important?”

Dredd’s laugh rang out, her gun was hidden under a blanket, but the tension in the air had lightened—at least for now.

Crest, however, had turned a deep shade of red as the weight of his question settled. He stammered, suddenly aware of how ridiculous it sounded.

“Sorry Tank, I…”

Crest didn’t finish his sentence—he couldn’t. You turned toward him, but it was already too late. The bullet struck without warning, its sharp hiss inaudible in the chaos. You just heard the sickening sound of him choking on his own blood as his body slumped forward, sending the truck veering off the road and crashing into a ditch.

Everything seemed to stretch into slow motion as the truck rolled. You felt a dull pain spreading through your head and wrist, but the rest of your body felt strangely numb, as if it no longer belonged to you. You tried to prepare yourself for what was coming next—find your gun, defend yourself—but your hand wouldn’t respond. The pain in your skull splintered like shards of glass, each jagged piece tearing through your senses.

The last thing you felt before everything went dark was the gradual fading of Crest’s warmth, slipping away from your side.

**********************************

“Well, look who’s finally awake.”

The voice was unmistakable… Soap? You tried to sit up, but a steady yet gentle hand held you back.

“Easy there, kid. Take it slow. You’ve got quite the bump on your head,” Price said with a reassuring smile, helping you sit up.

“Where am I?” you asked, glancing at Price.

“Told you she was accident-prone,” Soap chuckled, giving Kyle a playful smack on the back.

“How did you all get here?” you asked, turning to Soap.

“Guess that means he’s terrible in bed, then?” Price shot a teasing glance at Kyle.

“Yeah, and he’s a C*NT” Soap laughed, his voice echoing through the room as he clearly found himself hilarious.

Your eyes shifted to the corner, where Ghost stood motionless, his presence looming. He hadn’t said a word, just observing in his usual quiet, unreadable way.

“Where’s Crest? Is he ok? I didn’t even see the shooter?” Your eyes pleading with Ghost to give you answers. How were they all here?

“Well we all know your mug is a perfect fit eh fairy liquid!” Kyle laughed.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on please?” You glanced from Price to Ghost, your voice cracking, a lump in your throat forming.

Price cupped your face, his touch firm yet oddly soothing. Though his touch wasn’t necessary, it was comforting, and your reaction made that clear. You almost melted into his palm, the warmth of him seeping deep into your bones, filling you with a sense of safety.

You glanced up at his wide smile, and just as you were about to return a weak one, his hand slipped away from your face.

“You need to wake up, kid…”

“What? … I am… I’m…”

The words felt heavy on your tongue, but something in the way he spoke made the air shift—unnervingly cold, like a warning you couldn’t quite place.

The icy cold water struck you like a violent slap, ripping the breath from your lungs as you jolted upright, gasping in shock. But before you could even steady yourself, you were dragged down by a force and the deafening clank of chains.

Collapsing to the ground, your eyes shot forward, locking onto the heavy iron door looming in front of you. Just beside it, a dark figure stood, holding a bucket with a sinister stillness.

The room was cold, the air thick with the stench of damp concrete and stale air. You turned slowly, the harsh scrape of your shackles echoing in the silence. Looking down, you saw the heavy chains binding your wrists, the cold metal biting into your skin. They were bolted to the concrete floor.

Your mind raced, adrenaline surging as the questions piled up. How had you missed the shooter? You’d let your guard down, gotten comfortable—no, lazy. That was the mistake. Crest… where was he? Had he made it out? Was he alive? Dredd—had she escaped? Had she managed to slip away, lay low until things cleared up? Maybe she’d gotten back to the safe house, or even to the backup house. But the uncertainty gnawed at you, each thought more unsettling than the last.

Did McKinley know? The thought hit you like a jolt of cold electricity. This mission had been clear from the start—if caught, you are not acknowledged. There were no backup plans, no rescue team, no second chances. You were disposable.

You were on your own.

The realization settled in like a heavy stone in your chest, and for a moment, everything felt impossibly still. No one would come for you, no one would speak your name. If you didn’t get out of this yourself, there would be no one to blame but you.

Before you could ponder your fate any further, a second figure appeared in the doorway. The sound of footsteps echoed through the cold, empty space, each step deliberate, measured. A tall, thin man made his way toward you, his movements almost unsettlingly calm.

In the dim light, you could just make out his features: dark eyes, sharp and unblinking, and hair as black as coal, stark against his pale skin. He was impeccably dressed in a suit—clean, pressed, and entirely out of place in the grim surroundings. His presence made your pulse quicken, your instincts screaming that he was not someone you wanted to meet.

And then, the realization hit like a gut punch. Staring at you with cold, calculating eyes was one of the world’s most wanted criminals—the very reason you were here in this godforsaken town. Vladimir Makarov.

The name alone was enough to freeze your blood. His reputation preceded him—ruthless, cunning, and without mercy. Every mission, every brief, every intelligence report had warned you of him. But no amount of preparation could have ever truly prepared you for the man standing in front of you now.

“Good morning, Tank. How very nice it is to finally meet you…” Makarov’s voice was cold, each word laced with a mocking sweetness that made your skin crawl. “…I’m sorry about your friend.”

His words cut through the silence like a knife, but you couldn’t help the sick, twisted laugh that bubbled up in your throat. It was probably hysteria setting in, a coping mechanism for the absurdity of the situation. All those years spent hearing about Makarov—the Russian scumbag that Price had been gunning for relentlessly—and now, here he was. Standing right in front of you, casually offering some sick version of politeness.

Good morning, like he wasn’t the very reason you’d been dragged into this nightmare. Like you weren’t sitting here, shackled and broken, Crest dead, Dread MIA, all because of him.

You almost wanted to laugh again. Almost. But it died in your throat, the weight of reality sinking in. This wasn’t some briefing room or war room banter—it was real. And Makarov, for all his cold composure, was here because he wanted something. That much was certain. His eyes never left yours, calculating, waiting for a reaction, a weakness. The mockery in his voice was a mask, but beneath it, you could feel the tension—the thinly veiled threat of what was to come.

You had no doubt he was enjoying this moment, savoring the control he now held. But what was it that he wanted? Information? Revenge? Or something more personal, something that would break you in ways no one could predict?

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as he took a slow step forward. You could almost feel the weight of his presence pressing down on you, and despite everything—despite the pain, the fear—you refused to let him see how much it rattled you.

Not yet. Not until you knew what game he was playing.

The figure in the doorway bent down, reaching for something on the floor. It was square, bulky, and heavy. With a cold, deliberate motion, the man placed it down next to Makarov. A car battery. The heavy thud of it hitting the ground felt like a warning, its significance sinking in with a quiet dread.

“Let’s see how strong Price makes his toy soldiers, eh?”

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all-the-feelss · 2 days ago

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I wasn’t in the fandom before Bucktommy happened, but I saw some gifs of them and I thought I should give the show a go. I’m super grateful I did even though that breakup really hurt on different levels. This ship brought my love back for reading fan fictions and participating again in fandom. I made this tumblr ages ago(more than 10 years ago:yes I’m an old) but I haven’t been active in a long ling time. Thanks to Buck and Tommy and of course Oliver and (especially) Lou I’m back at it again and enjoying it more than I thought I would. I love how creative this fandom is! The fan fiction itself has been on another level - so many talented individuals in this fandom!! ❤️

I also loved how kind and thoughtful Lou has been with the character of Tommy. You can tell he really cares about him and has tried so hard to make him as multi dimensional as possible. I really hope we get to see more of Tommy’s story in 8b - I know there’s so much more to be explored and said about him. What pains me the most is that Tommy, a slightly older gay man who clearly comes from a bad upbringing and has been through a lot, got a worse ‘ending’ than a horrible character like Cap Gerrard (don’t get me started on this). However, if not then I know I can rely on the amazing fan fiction and fan art in the fandom. I’m apprehensive about the future of s8, but I know I can always come on here and bitch and moan about the plot/writing with my mutuals and other Bucktommy fans. ❤️

I truly appreciate what you’re doing @alliwantforchristmasislou Thank you for all the effort! 💖

If you celebrate the holidays I hope you have a wonderful time being festive (I know it can be a tricky time for many💙)! If you don’t then I hope you have wonderful rest of the week and a great December! ❄️✨

- Lots of love,

Maria

#alliwantforchristmasislou #tommy kinard #bucktommy #lou ferrigno jr #I love this fandom!! ❤️🥺#trevor project

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gardenladysworld · 3 days ago

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Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211

Part 6

----------------------------------------------

This part is really lng ! Sowwy! <3

Part 7: To long

Neteyam trudged behind Lo’ak, his mind drifting far from the path they were walking. His younger brother was in the middle of an animated rant about something—probably another one of his harebrained ideas—but Neteyam wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were still tangled in the moments he had spent with you earlier at the outpost. The way your laugh had echoed in the cramped space, the way your eyes lit up at his terrible attempts at conversation—it was all seared into his memory.

“Are you even listening?” Lo’ak’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

Neteyam blinked, glancing over at his brother. “Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?”

Lo’ak groaned, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Unbelievable! I was saying that I found something cool out here yesterday, and I wanted to show you. But clearly, you’re too busy being... I don’t know, you lately.”

Neteyam sighed. “What does that even mean, Lo’ak?”

“It means you’re always off in your own head these days,” Lo’ak replied, side-eyeing him as they continued walking. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ve been distracted, bro. And I’m guessing it has something to do with a certain human girl.”

Neteyam’s ears twitched, but he said nothing, keeping his gaze ahead.

Lo’ak smirked, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, admit it. You’ve got it bad.”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam said warningly, though the faint color rising in his cheeks betrayed him.

Lo’ak only laughed, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Mostly. But seriously, Teyam, you should—”

He stopped mid-sentence, his ears perking up as a faint sound reached them. Voices. Human voices.

Neteyam’s instincts kicked in immediately, and he motioned for Lo’ak to stay quiet. They crept forward, their movements silent as they approached the source of the sound. As they reached the edge of a clearing, they crouched low behind the thick foliage.

In the clearing, a small group of humans was gathered. Norm and Max were there, along with a handful of others—new faces that Neteyam recognized as part of the recently arrived science team. Equipment was spread out across the clearing, and a few humans were busy examining various plants and soil samples.

And then he saw you.

You were kneeling on the ground, your attention focused on a vibrant purple plant that seemed to glow faintly in the filtered sunlight. Your hair fell over your shoulder as you leaned closer, your expression one of pure curiosity and wonder. Neteyam felt his breath catch in his throat. You were mesmerizing.

“Wow,” Lo’ak whispered beside him, his tone teasing. “You’re not even trying to hide it, are you?”

Neteyam shot him a glare, but his brother only grinned, leaning back against a tree. “Go on, admit it. She’s the only thing you see right now.”

He wasn’t wrong. Neteyam’s eyes remained fixed on you, captivated by the way you seemed so at home, even in this strange environment. You reached out to gently touch one of the plant’s leaves, and the bioluminescent glow intensified under your fingertips. The sight stirred something deep within him, a mix of admiration and longing that he couldn’t quite put into words.

But the moment was interrupted when another human—a man Neteyam didn’t recognize—stepped into the scene. He was tall, with short-cropped hair and a confident, almost cocky demeanor. He approached you with an easy smile, crouching down beside you as he spoke. Neteyam couldn’t hear what was being said, but the man’s body language was clear—too friendly, too familiar.

Neteyam’s tail flicked restlessly behind him as he watched the interaction. The man leaned closer to you, pointing at something on the plant, his smile widening when you laughed softly at whatever he had said. The sound that had brought Neteyam so much joy earlier now felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Lo’ak muttered, his tone laced with amusement. “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened, his golden eyes narrowing as he observed the scene. He knew it wasn’t fair to feel this way. You were free to talk to whomever you wanted, to laugh and smile with anyone who caught your interest. But that knowledge did nothing to quell the surge of jealousy bubbling in his chest.

The man reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he made another comment. Neteyam’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He hated the way the man was looking at you, the way he seemed to command your attention so easily.

“You gonna do something, or just keep glaring at him?” Lo’ak asked, raising an eyebrow.

Neteyam didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His mind was racing, torn between the urge to march into the clearing and stake his claim—or at least interrupt—and the voice of reason reminding him that he had no right to feel this way. You weren’t his, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, bro. Absolutely hopeless.” But there was a hint of sympathy in his voice as he nudged Neteyam’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go before you combust.”

Neteyam's golden eyes burned as he watched the human man grow bolder with every passing moment. The stranger's overly confident demeanor grated on his nerves, and the way he positioned himself so closely to you made Neteyam’s chest tighten. His tail flicked sharply behind him, a physical manifestation of the storm brewing inside him.

The man—Ethan, as you would later call him—leaned closer, his voice low and insistent. Neteyam couldn’t hear the exact words, but the tone was unmistakably flirtatious. He pointed at something on the ground near the plant, earning a polite nod and a forced smile from you. It was clear to Neteyam that you weren’t entirely comfortable, yet Ethan either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Ethan's hand brushed against your arm casually, too casually, as he gestured to the plant. You stiffened slightly, but the man didn’t stop there. His touch became more frequent—a hand on your shoulder, then trailing lightly down your arm. You shifted away subtly, but Ethan closed the gap, oblivious or deliberately ignoring your discomfort.

Neteyam’s jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, his sharp canines pressing against each other. His fists balled at his sides, nails digging into his palms. Lo’ak, perched beside him, let out a low whistle.

“Oh man,” Lo’ak muttered, his voice dripping with amusement. “This guy has a death wish. Look at you, all ready to pounce. Don’t tell me this doesn’t make you want to break his tiny human nose.”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam said in a low, warning tone, his tail flicking restlessly behind him.

“What? I’m just saying,” Lo’ak continued, his voice teasing but quieter now. “That guy’s going for it, huh? Trying really hard to get her attention. Too bad it’s working.”

“It’s not working,” Neteyam muttered, though his fists clenched tighter at his sides.

“Sure it’s not,” Lo’ak drawled, leaning casually against the tree. “That’s why she’s laughing and letting him touch her arm.”

But Neteyam could see that your laughter wasn’t genuine. The polite smile you wore didn’t reach your eyes, and the way you shifted uncomfortably every time Ethan leaned closer told him everything he needed to know. Still, the man’s persistence grated on him.

Ethan reached out again, this time letting his hand settle lightly on the small of your back. Neteyam’s tail lashed harder. When Ethan brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering too long, Neteyam’s chest burned with an unfamiliar, intense anger.

“Yikes,” Lo’ak whispered, mock-shielding himself. “I can feel the heat from here. If looks could kill, that guy would be dust.”

Neteyam didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His entire focus was on you, and the way Ethan’s actions were becoming more invasive. You subtly shifted to put distance between yourself and the man, looking around for someone to help, but every other scientists were so engrossed in their work, but Ethan followed, his easy smile never faltering as he kept talking, his voice low and smooth.

Ethan continued his advances, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You jerked back slightly, an uncomfortable laugh escaping your lips as you tried to deflect. “Ethan, don’t—”

“Relax,” the man interrupted smoothly, his hand lingering near the small of your back. “I’m just being friendly. You’re too tense. You should smile more—it looks good on you.”

Neteyam’s breath hitched as he watched Ethan’s hand drift lower, his fingers brushing against the curve of your waist. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to step away, but Ethan’s confidence didn’t waver.

“Ethan, leave me alone,” you said firmly, your voice carrying a note of frustration.

But Ethan simply grinned. “Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just having fun, aren’t we?”

When his hand grazed your lower back, dangerously close to your hip, something inside Neteyam snapped. Before Lo’ak could make another quip, Neteyam rose to his full height and stepped out of the foliage, his movements silent yet commanding.

The clearing seemed to still as the towering Na’vi emerged from the shadows, his golden eyes blazing and his expression a mask of barely restrained fury. Ethan froze, his hand hovering awkwardly midair. The others in the clearing turned to stare, their faces a mixture of awe and fear.

You were the first to speak, your eyes lighting up in a way that sent a pang through Neteyam’s chest. “Neteyam!” you said, your voice warm and full of genuine delight. “I didn’t think I’d see you today.

The change in your demeanor was immediate, and Ethan, still caught in his own disbelief, glanced between you and the towering Na’vi. “Wait, what?” he stammered, his shock evident. “You—you know him?”

Ignoring Ethan, you took a step toward Neteyam, your smile radiant. “I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, your voice carrying a note of relief that only he seemed to notice.

Ethan, finally finding his voice, moved as if to step between you and Neteyam. “Wait a second,” he said, raising a hand as if to shield you. “This—this thing, this savage—he’s dangerous! Don’t talk to him! I bet he doesn’t even understand us. He shouldn’t even be here. We should call—”

The clearing fell deathly silent. Norm and Max, who had been observing from the sidelines, exchanged uneasy glances, clearly bracing for what was about to unfold. Neteyam’s eyes shifted to Ethan, his gaze cold and unyielding. Lo’ak, still watching from the sidelines, let out a low whistle. “Oh, he’s dead,” he muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying the show.

The words ignited a spark in Neteyam, and he stepped closer, his gaze sharp as he leveled it at Ethan. “I understand more than you think,” he said, his voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge.

Ethan stumbled back, clearly startled that Neteyam could speak. “You—you speak English?”

Ethan’s jaw dropped, his confidence crumbling as he realized the mistake he’d made. Neteyam ignored him completely, his attention shifting back to you. He took a step closer, his expression softening ever so slightly as his gaze met yours. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

You nodded quickly, stepping around Ethan to stand closer to Neteyam. The sight of you willingly moving toward him seemed to knock the wind out of Ethan. His expression twisted into one of confusion and disbelief.

Ethan gawked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Wait—you’re thanking him? You can’t be serious.”

Neteyam’s gaze finally flicked back to Ethan, his golden eyes narrowing dangerously. “She said enough,” he said, his voice like a low rumble of thunder.

Though his words were measured, the underlying warning was unmistakable. Ethan paled, taking a step back as he finally realized just how outmatched he was. Neteyam didn’t need to do anything more. His mere presence was enough to silence whatever protest Ethan had been about to make.

Lo’ak, who had finally entered the clearing, leaned against a tree, watching the scene unfold with a grin. “Man, I’ve got to say, this is better than I expected. That guy doesn’t stand a chance.” Neteyam ignored his brother, his focus entirely on you as you stepped closer to him, your hand brushing lightly against his arm.

“Thanks for looking out to me,” you said softly, your voice just for him.

Neteyam stood silently in the clearing, his gaze fixed on Ethan as the man retreated to the other side, clearly shaken. Ethan didn’t even spare you another glance, his shoulders tense as he busied himself with the other scientists. Neteyam felt a quiet satisfaction at that but quickly turned his attention back to you. You had slowly returned to your work, crouched next to the glowing purple plant, your focus back on the samples you were analyzing.

Neteyam stepped closer, lowering himself to a crouch so that he was eye level with you. Despite his attempt to make himself smaller, he still towered over you, his presence unmistakably large. His tail flicked lazily behind him as he observed your careful movements.

From behind him, he heard Norm and Max chuckling quietly. “Never thought I’d see this,” Norm muttered, his tone light. “Two massive Na’vi crouching like oversized housecats, just to keep her company.”

Lo’ak, who had followed Neteyam into the clearing, leaned casually against a tree before sauntering over to you. He plopped down beside his brother, grinning as his tail swayed with amusement. “You know,” Lo’ak began, “I really don’t get it. All these humans losing their minds over plants. They’re just... plants.”

You glanced up from your work, a small smile tugging at your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Well, Lo’ak,” you said, your tone light, “when you grow up on a planet with no plants at all, they stop being boring.”

Lo’ak blinked, his grin faltering slightly. “Wait—no plants? Like... none?”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful as you spoke. “On Earth, most of the forests and natural ecosystems were destroyed a long time ago. When I arrived on Pandora, it was the first time I ever saw real trees. I’d only seen pictures and simulations before that. So yeah, being here in a forest like this? It’s pretty special.”

Neteyam’s ears flicked forward as he listened, his chest tightening at your words. He couldn’t imagine a world without the vibrant life of the forest, the towering trees, the constant hum of nature. To him, the forest was home—so familiar it sometimes felt mundane. But to you, it was something extraordinary.

“Man, that sounds awful,” Lo’ak said, his voice softer now. “No wonder you humans are always poking around at every little thing.”

You laughed lightly, your smile warm as you nodded. “Exactly. What’s boring to you is incredible to me.”

Neteyam’s tail flicked behind him as he studied you, his gaze lingering on the way your hands moved deftly over the plant, carefully documenting its bioluminescence. He admired your passion, the way you approached every detail with such care and curiosity.

“You don’t have to stay and watch this boring stuff,” you said suddenly, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his expression calm as he replied, “I have nothing better to do.”

It wasn’t true, and he knew you could tell. Your smile softened as you held his gaze for a moment before shaking your head slightly, a quiet laugh escaping you. Lo’ak, of course, couldn’t let it go.

“Oh, come on,” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You’re really gonna sit here and pretend you care about plants, Teyam? What’s next, you’re gonna start drawing diagrams too?”

You laughed again, and the sound warmed Neteyam’s chest. “Maybe I’ll teach him,” you joked, glancing at Neteyam with a playful grin. “He might be a natural scientist and just doesn’t know it yet.”

Neteyam let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I’ll leave that to you.”

As you worked on the glowing purple plant, Lo’ak, ever the instigator, continued his commentary. He leaned back on his hands, his tail flicking lazily behind him as he grinned. “So, if plants are this exciting to you, does that mean you’ll start naming them? Like, this one could be… uh, Purple Glow Thing.”

You glanced up from your notes, raising an eyebrow at him. “Very creative, Lo’ak. You should start a naming service. I’m sure the scientists would love it.”

Neteyam smirked, his eyes flicking to his brother. “Maybe we should call it ‘Lo’ak’s Brain,’ since it glows as much as his ideas.”

Lo’ak gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own brother.” He turned to you, his expression mock-hurt. “Do you hear how he talks to me?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you jotted down another note. “I don’t know, Lo’ak. I think Neteyam’s onto something.”

“Et tu?” Lo’ak groaned, flopping onto his back theatrically. “I come out here, bring my brother to see something cool, and this is the thanks I get. Betrayal. From both of you.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back slightly to look at him. “If this is betrayal, I’d hate to see what you’d do with actual enemies.”

“Be careful,” Neteyam said, his tone dry but teasing. “He might declare a lifelong vendetta over this.”

“Ha-ha,” Lo’ak muttered, shooting his brother a glare before sitting up again. “You two are the worst.” His tail flicked lazily against the forest floor as he tilted his head. “You know,” he said, his tone light and teasing, “you’re probably the only person who would look at dirt and glowing plants and think, ‘Wow, this is amazing.’”

You glanced up at him with a smirk. “Well, you’re probably the only person who can’t tell the difference between two plants unless they’re trying to kill you.”

Neteyam snorted softly, and Lo’ak gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch! Right in the pride. Did you hear that, Teyam? She’s ruthless.”

“I heard,” Neteyam replied, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. “And she’s not wrong.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you returned to your work. “See? Even Neteyam agrees.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes, leaning closer. “You’re both impossible,” he said, before narrowing his gaze at Neteyam. “Though, I have to admit, I’m starting to think Teyam’s only here because he’s worried I’ll steal you away.”

Neteyam shot him a look, his tail flicking sharply behind him. “You couldn’t steal anything, Lo’ak. Least of all her attention.”

“Is that a challenge?” Lo’ak asked, grinning mischievously. “Because I think I could—”

“Lo’ak,” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

Lo’ak grinned, completely unbothered. “Exactly. That’s what makes it fun.”

You sighed, shaking your head with an amused smile. “I think I liked it better when you were off chasing ikran or arguing with Kiri.”

“Careful,” Lo’ak warned, pointing a finger at you. “Keep this up, and I might not help you the next time you get lost.”

“I’ve never been lost,” you countered, raising your chin. “I’ve just been... temporarily unsure of my location.”

Neteyam chuckled, his deep voice rumbling softly. “That’s one way to put it.”

Your laughter bubbled up again, and Lo’ak threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I don’t need this. You two deserve each other, sitting here, ganging up on me.”

“Oh, come on, Lo’ak,” you said, still grinning. “You’re fun to tease. Besides, you make it too easy.”

“See? You’re encouraging her,” Lo’ak said to Neteyam, though he was smiling now. “I hope she knows how mean you actually are.”

Neteyam shrugged, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’m honest.”

“You’re impossible,” Lo’ak muttered, flopping back onto the grass dramatically, his tail flicking in mock frustration.

Before Lo’ak could fire back another retort, Norm and Max approached, their boots crunching softly against the forest floor. Norm glanced at his watch before addressing the group. “All right, folks, time to wrap it up. We need to head back soon. Forest gets a little too lively at night for our comfort.”

Max nodded in agreement. “Especially with the new team. We don’t want to risk anyone getting lost.”

Your smile faltered slightly, and you closed your notebook, carefully packing up your supplies. “Got it,” you said softly, glancing at the vibrant plant one last time.

Neteyam’s chest tightened at the thought of you leaving. He didn’t like it—didn’t like the idea of you heading back to the lab, away from the safety of the forest where he could watch over you. And he especially didn’t like the idea of you being stuck with Ethan.

You noticed his expression and offered him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Neteyam. I’ve dealt with worse men back on Earth than Ethan.”

His jaw tightened, and his tail flicked sharply behind him. “That doesn’t mean you should have to deal with him here.”

Norm cleared his throat, sensing the tension. “Ethan’s harmless, Neteyam. He’s just... not great at reading the room.”

Neteyam’s gaze didn’t leave yours, his voice steady and firm as he spoke. “We’ll escort you back.”

Norm hesitated, glancing at Max, who shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to say no to having two Na’vi warriors as bodyguards,” Norm said lightly, trying to ease the mood.

“Works for me,” Max added, nodding. “Let’s start packing up.”

As the humans began gathering their equipment, you turned back to Neteyam, your eyes softening as you studied his expression. “You don’t have to, you know,” you said gently. “We’ll be fine.”

Neteyam met your gaze, his expression resolute. “It’s not just about being fine. It’s about making sure you’re safe.”

Your smile widened, warmth spreading through your chest at his sincerity. “Thank you, Neteyam.”

Lo’ak, standing nearby, rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, sure, he’s the noble protector. What about me? Do I get any credit for tagging along?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you shot him a teasing look. “You’re here for the jokes, Lo’ak. That’s enough.”

“Wow,” Lo’ak said, clutching his chest as if you’d wounded him. “The disrespect.”

Neteyam’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he watched the exchange, the weight in his chest lifting slightly at the sound of your laughter. For now, he could breathe easier knowing he’d be there to see you safely back to the outpost.

As the other scientists disappeared into the secure doors of the outpost, Neteyam lingered just beyond its perimeter, his sharp eyes tracking every movement. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, but his focus remained on you, standing a few feet away. Lo’ak was leaning lazily against a tree, fiddling with a stray twig and humming a tuneless melody.

“You’re not going to stay out here all night staring, are you?” Lo’ak teased, his voice low and amused.

Neteyam shot him a look, but the younger Na’vi just smirked. “Relax, bro. She’s safe now. Ethan’s in there, probably too scared to even look at her after earlier.”

His ears twitched, irritation flaring at the mention of Ethan. “It’s not just about him,” Neteyam said, his tone defensive.

Lo’ak snorted. “Sure, it’s not.” He flung the twig away and stretched. “Well, if you’re going to keep playing guardian, I’ll head back. I don’t want to spend all night smelling exhaust fumes.”

You turned to look at Lo’ak, smiling warmly. “Thanks for walking us back, Lo’ak. You made it fun.”

“Of course,” Lo’ak said with a wink. “Someone’s got to keep things lively. Neteyam’s too serious for his own good.”

“Go home, Lo’ak,” Neteyam said flatly, though his tail flicked in mild amusement.

Lo’ak laughed and gave a mock salute before heading off toward the forest. “See you back at home, big brother. Try not to stare too much,” he called over his shoulder.

When Lo’ak disappeared into the treeline, silence fell between you and Neteyam. The night air was cool, carrying the faint, earthy scent of the forest. You turned to face him fully, arms loosely crossed as you looked up at him.

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said softly, your tone free of accusation. “It’s late, and I know you probably have things to do.”

Neteyam shook his head, his golden eyes meeting yours. “There’s nothing more important than making sure you’re safe.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “I appreciate it, Neteyam. Really. But I’m okay now. The outpost is secure, and I’ve dealt with worse situations than Ethan.”

His jaw tightened at the mention of Earth. “You shouldn’t have to deal with any of it,” he said, his voice low. “Not here. Not on Pandora.”

You stepped closer, your voice gentle. “You’re sweet for worrying about me, but I promise I’m not as fragile as I look.”

Neteyam’s tail flicked restlessly as he searched your face. “I know you’re strong. I’ve seen it. But strength doesn’t mean you should have to face things alone.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The hum of the outpost felt distant, the world shrinking down to just the two of you.

“Would you stay here all night if I asked you to?” you asked, half-teasing but with a trace of curiosity.

Neteyam didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by his sincerity. “Why?”

“Because I care about you,” he said simply, his voice steady. “And because I want to.”

Your cheeks flushed faintly, and you glanced away, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You make it really hard to argue with you, you know that?”

“Good,” he replied, a small smile forming on his face, his ears flickered for only a moment.

The moment lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Finally, you exhaled a quiet laugh and gestured toward the outpost.

“You should head back to your family,” you said softly. “I’ll see you next time, okay?”

Neteyam hesitated but eventually nodded. “Next time,” he repeated, his voice carrying a promise.

He watched as you walked toward the entrance of the outpost, pausing to wave at him before the doors slid shut. Only then did he turn back toward the forest, his heart still caught in the quiet weight of your parting words. Next time felt too far away already.

As Neteyam stepped into the dense shadows of the forest, leaving the hum of the outpost behind, he barely had time to let out a breath before Lo’ak emerged from behind a tree. His younger brother was grinning like he’d just caught the best prey of the day.

“Well, well, look who’s finally free from his babysitting duties,” Lo’ak said, falling into step beside him. His tail swayed lazily, and his tone practically dripped with mischief.

Neteyam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Lo’ak, don’t start.”

“Start? Me?” Lo’ak asked innocently, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m just saying, you could’ve been home an hour ago, but no. Big bro had to make sure his precious little human made it safely inside.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice mockingly. “‘Oh, I care about you, and I want to.’”

Neteyam sighed, brushing past him. “Go home, Lo’ak.”

“Not until you explain whatever that was,” Lo’ak said, falling into step beside him. “You’re practically glowing with all that unspoken longing.”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam warned, his voice low and tired.

But Lo’ak wasn’t deterred. “I mean, come on, bro. You’re supposed to lead the people, not spend your nights pining after a human. And not just any human—a full-blooded, ‘fragile bones,’ sky demon human.”

Neteyam’s tail flicked sharply, but he didn’t respond. Lo’ak grinned, clearly enjoying himself. „What would Eywa think of this little... fascination?”

“That’s enough,” Neteyam muttered, his voice clipped.

Lo’ak ignored him, pressing on. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s kind of sweet. But seriously, what’s your plan here? She’s human, bro. Like, full-on human. The kind that doesn’t even have an avatar. I mean, sure, Dad was human, but at least he became one of us. What about her?”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened, his steps quickening as if he could outrun the conversation.

“And let’s not forget,” Lo’ak continued, jogging to keep up, “you’re the future olo’eyktan. Do you really think Mom and Dad are going to let you run off with a human when they’re probably already looking for a perfect mate for you? Someone who can be tsahik, someone who—”

“I KNOW WHAT SHE IS!” Neteyam’s voice boomed through the quiet forest, startling even Lo’ak into silence. Neteyam’s chest heaved as he glared at his brother, his golden eyes blazing with a mix of anger and anguish. “Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I don’t see it every time I look at her?”

Lo’ak stepped back, his expression unreadable as Neteyam’s voice dropped, trembling with emotion. “I know I don’t have a future with her,” he said bitterly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “And I never will.”

Lo’ak blinked, stunned into silence as his older brother’s words hung in the air. Neteyam’s chest heaved as he tried to rein in his emotions, but his next words came softer, quieter, and filled with a raw vulnerability that Lo’ak hadn’t expected.

“But with her... I’m not a future olo’eyktan,” Neteyam whispered, looking away, his voice breaking. He looked away, his shoulders slumping as the weight of his confession settled over him. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a quiet, broken vulnerability that Lo’ak had never seen before.

For a moment, Lo’ak didn’t say anything, his usual teasing smirk replaced by something softer, more genuine. Finally, he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his braids.

“I’m just me. And for a little while, I want to be at her side. Before I have to mate with someone I don’t even like. Before I lose the chance to be anything else.”

The weight of his words settled between them, and Lo’ak rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. For a long moment, Lo’ak said nothing. Then he stepped forward, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “Hey,” he said, nudging Neteyam’s shoulder lightly. “I was just messing with you. I didn’t mean to push.”

Neteyam didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“I mean it,” Lo’ak added, sincerity coloring his voice. “I like seeing you happy, Teyam. Even if it’s with her. Actually, especially if it’s with her.”

Neteyam finally looked at his brother, his expression still pained but touched by Lo’ak’s words. Lo’ak shrugged, his smirk returning faintly. “Now, let’s get home before mom starts wondering why her perfect eldest son is running around the forest after dark,”

Neteyam shook his head, the heaviness in his chest still present but slightly eased. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me for it,” Lo’ak replied, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Neteyam followed, his steps slower, his thoughts still tangled with longing and guilt. But for now, he had his brother’s understanding, and that was enough to carry him a little further.

Part 8

#avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #avatar twow #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you

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