#like it's not a fruit growing from your own heart

[faedotexe]

I am looking for a Truth cut in colored glass That will never grow cold - Precious words caught in ice That know to remain light Shining the winter's morn - For this quiet truth That can stay perfectly still, And maybe not grow bitter When I am old or ill.

[beeseverywhen]

Not in the US so can't speak for what's happening there, but I've def noticed here that healthcare workers are struggling with dealing with sicker patients than they felt they were getting before covid and lots of them are mentioning a lack of immunity thanks to lockdowns. every time I hear it I can't help but think that the increasing desperation thanks to years of underfunding that's really beginning to have an impact since covid (because the pandemic served as the last straw on the camels back there AND because it showed our government that they could neglect the vulnerable to the degree that they were dying by the thousands and still nobody bothered to blame them.) Is a contributing factor in this and I don't understand why nobody is mentioning it???

We're getting sick because we've spent decades being bled dry and now we're hungry, stressed and being worked to the bone. Meanwhile we aren't getting any kind of return on the money we're pumping in to the healthcare system and our governments aren't doing shit to address health inequalities or any of the factors contributing to everyone's poor health.

If you look at covid death statistics, if you look at which countries are currently suffering from supply problems; a job market bursting with unfilled vacancies, civil unrest and protests, strained healthcare systems, and all the rest; the countries at the top are those that have allowed capitalism to call the shots for the past century, more than the rest. That is why the UK and America have been so badly impacted. Its no accident that we are paying so heavily, this system started with us. We forced it on the rest of the world and now, we're the first to pay the price. There is a direct correlation between the impact being felt post covid and a countries wealth divide and I'm tired of everyone ignoring that.

I look around me and People are going hungry, the food they can afford to buy is lacking in basic nutrients, of course people are sicker! Even if you can afford them, the shops keep running out of vegetables! Our health system was already breaking and then, we were hit by a pandemic it was completely unprepared for (tho it should have been) and now, people are getting way more ill than they need to before they finally reach hospital. When they get there, the hospitals are understaffed (thanks to years of underfunded budgets and the extreme stress so many health care workers were put under), we keep having drug shortages because our country keep straight up refusing to pay how much things cost, and what they are willing to pay, goes to pay about ten profiteering middle men at each stage of the supply chain.

People are massively stressed thanks to the cumulative weight of a completely broken capitalist system and those in charge are more worried about lining their pockets for as long as they can until the whole thing collapses, rather than actually trying to address any problems. Stress IS something that's known to weaken immune systems so why are we blaming something that MAY affect them??? Extreme rises in energy costs have meant everyone's spent a winter without adequate heating (even those that can afford it are revolting at the increase and so are trying to cut costs by using less energy.) Again, insufficiently heated homes are also known to affect immunity. And that's just the people who still have safe homes! Masses of people have been made homeless recently thanks to rising rents and mortgages which were already unaffordable, our housing stock is largely dangerous, with homes falling in to disrepair because landlords are barely regulated and when they do break laws they go unprotected.

Is anyone surprised that so many people are getting so ill and not getting better? Cause I'm not.

It's startlingly obvious when you start looking at the health divide between those who have spent 40 years subject to the whims of poorly restricted capitalism and those able to opt out. Medical technology is improving, but healthy life expectancy is now dropping year on year, because there are more people living here without the capital to turn away from jobs that will break them, than there are those whose inherited wealth opens doors away from employers that'll ask you to pay the price of bodily health, so they might strengthen profit margins. Its just basic averages. 1% of our citizens are standing on the backs of 99% of us and wondering why more and more of that 99% are getting sicker and sicker. The labour market for working class people has been allowed to drain its workers dry for years now. The progress made in the early to mid 20th century has slowly been worn away at, with the labour laws we fought for, only being accessible for an ever decreasing number of people. The laws are still in place but no low wage employer bothers to follow them any more than they have to. Do you know how many people I know who've been working without breaks, going unpaid for extra hours, been forced to follow unsafe working practices that they know are illegal and then being forced to lie to protect the employer that put them in that position? The people being broken by companies raking in billions, as they flaunt labour laws, don't have any means to access justice! If you complain, you lose your job. If you take them to court that costs money and that company is willing to drag out proceedings for years till you run out of the money needed to keep things going.

When i look at how much money is being wasted in government budgets, while the people responsible for making that money, see little return; I can't help but think of various theories for why certain societies in history have collapsed. (If you want to be really worried about the state of things, read the Wikipedia page on societal collapse. Spoiler: most of the potential causes of societal collapse have already begun in America and the UK. That guy who wrote that article saying America was already past the point of collapse might have been right.) One theory behind the bronze age collapse is just that... societies became too complex. A society where the 1% are given too much power over the 99% becomes one great big pyramid scheme. Unnecessary burecracy at every level (designed to squeeze as much wealth possible for the person overseeing that level) results in those at the bottom, working themselves to death and still going hungry. The theory goes that there comes a point, in societies like that, where the workers look at how they are living and just...walk away. They decide that the security once offered by that society isn't worth what it's costing them and fuck off to become farmers, preferring a life of hard work and little security, to what they had been living. Without the workers, the system breaks down. The only people getting fed are the ones growing the food. All this stupid stratification. Allowing every supply chain, business and institution to become unnecessarily complex just so on each level the people in charge can let their mates get a foot in on the profits. All these middlemen. Business consultants. Supply chains allow for a product to be sent back and forth from country to country just so more people get a cut. Its no different to any other pyramid scheme so why the hell are we allowing it.

We need to start telling our politicians to show some goddamn accountability for this shit. Stop accepting them skirting responsibility for being at best: Inept and at worst deliberately negligent. We all need to stop supporting a system that's hurting us all. In the hope that we might be one of the lucky ones. That's not the reality of things. We'll only get out of this hole we've inadvertently dug ourselves in to, if we stop fighting each other and work together to demand change.

You know how sometimes you catch someone in a lie, and so they tell an even bigger lie to try and cover up the first lie they told?

Well, that’s happening right now.

Last winter, a handful of celebrity doctors went on mainstream news networks to assure us that Omicron was “mild.” They carpet-bombed us with articles and tweets, doing their best to brainwash everyone.

They were wrong.

In the end, real science junked that idea. An article in the Journal of the American Medical Association showed that Omicron killed more people than previous variants, even when adjusting for other factors. Another study by doctors at Massachusetts General and Harvard Medical found that Omicron was just as deadly. In fact, “the risks of hospitalization and mortality were nearly identical.” As it turns out, the entire idea of “mild” Omicron was based on an old, flawed idea known as the law of declining virulence, developed by a doctor who was studying tick-borne disease in cows. It was debunked decades ago.

Most epidemiologists know that viruses don’t magically evolve to become milder. Virus evolution is random and chaotic.

In some cases, viruses evolve to become more deadly.

A handful of actual scientists tried to explain all this last winter, including disease experts at Johns Hopkins. A handful of other established experts spoke out against this myth. As a microbiologist at Penn State told Politifact, “You can’t just say it’s going to become nicer.” They were largely ignored, because everyone already sort of believed the misinformation. If they knew it was based on a study about cows, they probably would’ve thought twice.

This year, the makers of “it’s mild” are back.

They’re selling “immunity debt.”

We should be skeptical.

Schools and daycares are sending letters home to parents talking about this “immunity debt.” They’re saying that healthy children are getting sicker, even dying, because they weren’t exposed to enough germs over the last two years. Newspapers and TV stations across the country are running with it, proposing it as a “possible reason” for this year’s explosion in pediatric hospitalizations. Meanwhile, major medical organizations have sent a letter to President Biden urging him to declare an emergency over an “alarming surge of pediatric hospitalizations” due to a range of respiratory viruses, including Covid.

A lot of people are drinking the “immunity debt” kool-aid.

After all, Americans have believed for generations that getting sick is “good for you.” We think our immune system behaves like a muscle. We worry that if we’re not giving it a workout, we’ll get weak.

It’s a myth, just like the law of declining virulence.

Here’s why.

[dmitriene]

cw: age gap (legal but not specified), mentions of readers virginity, just two people in love.

simon ghost riley doesn't think he's ugly outside, but he does think he is inside, too rotting comparing to you, so much more sweeter when you flutter your eyelashes at him and brush your fingers against his biceps in fleeting touches, trying so sweetly to gain the attention he doesn't let himself give you.

you're younger, it's visible in the lines on your face and cheerful smiles you flash him, in polite behavior that you keep up when you talk with elders, not yet on the same line of age with them, in how you call him sir and make his whole body shudder as it slips from your plump lips, and it's shouldn't make his cock chub up.

simon knows you're not a baby, you're a capable young woman, and even his friends date girls looking like you, but he feels like his hand are too dirty, bloodstained and calloused from the years of military service, his face is rugged and he can't even keep his stubble shaved properly, a mess of a man.

but you gaze at him with heart shaped pupils and trail around him like affectionate kitten, rubbing yourself all over him for at least one bit of attention, and the way you erupt in giddy smiles and sincere giggles when he garners you these bits.

pats at your head or accepts some baked treats you made, and there's something acidic behind his ribs, little sparks that instead of smoking erupts in licking flames, burning scorching hot across his whole body, and he's so addicted it's embarrassing to voice out, forbidden fruit is always sweet.

you were throwing yourself willingly at simon, and when he accepts your shy invitation to keep you an evening company in some town pub, where you sit under dim light on plush leather couch, body adorned with tight fitting dress that is too revealing for your usual attires, simon let's himself snap.

he knows it's all for him, the fabric ridding up all the way your plush thighs, pressed together when you squirm and tug it down, just so you won't sit with you ass bare on the leather, simon fists his hands until they whiten on his thighs as he tugs at his jeans, suddenly too tight.

all for him, the way you lean against the table, as if to hear him better, teasing your teeth at the plump flesh of your lips, warm breath mingling with his, smoky, made to make you push away, but your eyes grow heavy, swallowed dark by dilating pupils, and simon is fucked up badly.

he barely makes it to the front door of his apartment, you're feisty, nipping little teeth's at his stubbled jaw, rubbing sloppy kisses against his skin that grows hot and itchy from want, from the feeling of your body pressed against his tightly, legs wrapped around his hips, for him, all for him, his.

your body is soft, welcoming his touch with small goosebumps and small shudders, supple under his fingers that he traces too carefully across your curves, shedding every piece of clothing off you, like a kid with christmas present, hands trembling when he tugs your panties to find them sodden.

you're wet, wanting, squirming on the cold sheets that soothe your burning flesh as you spread your thighs to trail your hand down beneath your navel, simon feels like a virgin, breath hitching loudly when you spread your glistening folds with obscene squelch, chanting that it's all his fault.

for neglecting your affection, making you fuck your pussy on your own fingers every night, dreaming of being stretched around his cock, of granting simon your virginity, your flesh and bones, everything he'll please, you'll give him, just as you show him your dripping hole that clenches in need.

simon is a fool for making you wait so long, for depraving himself from you, because you feel heavenly, thin skin stretching around his fat, veiny girth, dribbling precum that mixes with your cloying slick, easing the glide, letting him stuff you, inch by inch, plugged with fat cock that throbs inside.

you clench with each drag, with each shallow thrust simon gives you because he can't make it faster, not because you'll be hurt, but because he shudders at the feel of your gummy walls latching around his meaty shaft, because he wants to enjoy every second of this encounter.

to hear your punched mewls, to watch the way you knead at the sheets below you like a docile kitten, meeting his languid movements with careful rolls of your hips, chest to chest with him, his breath burning against your ear as he showers you with sloppy kisses.

you're sopping wet between your legs, supple flesh coated with saccharine slick, splayed on his bed with simon's scent so heady around you, with his tongue toying with yours, his palms pawing at your hips and tugging, making you bounce towards his pounding hips, rumbling when it makes you arch.

simon loses himself in you, he listens to your pitched, garbled chants of want to be filled up with his seed, and he grits his teeth until veins pop on his jaw, increasing his movements to jab his tip against your sweet spot, make your walls clutch and pulse rapidly with bubbling magma in your belly.

you purr in delight when he fills you, coating your velvety walls with spurts of warm, thick cum, leaking past your clenching muscles, with simon's cock drived impossibly deep, enough to feel full despite how it dribbles down in creamy mess to stain the sheets.

pleased enough to let your body drift into drowsy state, sated to the point of your eyes slipping shut from minute to minute, enough time for simon to ease himself from you and go fetch a warm cloth to clean you both, just a bit to be comfortable while curled in each other during night.

simon ain't sure to which point this sex had drove you both, but he doesn't want to push you away, he enjoys the feeling of your naked body pressed against his, cradled against his brawny chest, soft breath tickling his skin and your eyelashes quivering in peaceful slumber, and he wants to remain there.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[hoshigray]

possessive tojikuna 😈🫦

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna + Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - face-fucking- double penetration (2 dick kuna, lawl) - doggy style position - clitoral play (licking + pinching) - biting - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, good girl, little bird, princess, wife, woman) - slight degradation - highly possessive behavior - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

You knew something was up. You could tell from the sudden chill in the air as you strode back to the palace grounds and walked down the hall to your shared room at dusk.

The palace was shrouded in an eerie silence, the darkness broken only by the flickering light of the candles that guided your path. The servants, usually bustling with activity, now worked silently, their eyes averted. Even Uraume was unusually quiet as they led you to your room, where your husbands awaited you.

They dismiss themselves once you reach the door, leaving you alone in the hall before the shoji panel door. Breathing silently and slowly through your nostrils, a hesitant hand approaching the handle.

Only for the door to open independently and for you to be yanked by the wrist. You could not foretell what happened after this, yet now you know why the palace life had become unusually stifling.

“—Khhh, ahhhck..!! ‘Kunaa, f-for’ive m—Ahhh!”

“Silence, woman; don’t test me.”

You were stripped of your clothing, nude back to the soft futon, and your entire body dwarfed underneath the massive size of Sukuna. The cursed being has you under him as his lower left hand fingers your chasm, and the upper right arm chokes you by the throat. 

The restriction of your airways has you lightheaded, along with the motions of his thick fore and middle finger ravaging your vaginal texture. “Tahhh, ohGodsss…!”

“Hmph, what a whore,” he scoffs with a devilish grin, stuffing his fingers until the hilted knuckle. “So fucking tight on my fingers, you find enjoyment in being punished like this?”

“My King, please,” getting the words out is a battle. “I’m sho—Mmfff!…sho sorry—“

“Sorry for what?” The grip on your throat gets firmer, his thumb big enough to have your blood vessels pulsing for desperation. “For disobeying orders and leaving the fortress or having another man touch you?”

Ah, fuck! You knew this would bite you in the back once you stepped outside. Your husbands were busy with their daily tasks, leaving the fortress walls and instructing you to stay put where it’s safe. However, a specific craving has been growing these past few days, a craving that can only be found in the busy streets of the countryside down south. And since your spouses were out of reach for the day, and Uraume was tending the palace and its subjects as usual, you didn’t want to burden anyone with your selfishness. So, you snuck out at dawn and treaded to the civil human territory on your own.

“Unbelievable,” he curls his digits, which scrape your walls, and your strained cries are taken. “Who told you to leave where you were supposed to be?” His voice is ominous, even in a hushed tone, as he brings his face closer to you. “Who told you that you could let others touch you?” 

“Kunaaa, please, forg’ve me,” the nickname doesn’t lessen the hold on your windpipe. “I was…just getting fruits from the town…And then I’d return—“

“You disobey me for some fruits?” Crimson eyes glint darkly. “And then have that cretin hold your hands—hold what’s mine?”

The pound of your head worsens by the seconds, and the mouth of his stomach chews on the flesh of your tummy. God, this is too much…! “…I–I’m so sorry, my King…I didn’t m–mean to offend you, but my body is only—ghhh—for my hus–bands!”

“Today said otherwise—“

“It was not intentional!” I can’t…breathe…Your cunt tenses from a graze to your upper wall, your eyes watering. “Please, my love, there’s no one else my heart belongs to…I swear on my blood.” 

Finally, he releases your throat from his death grip, yet you’re not given time to gather much air as his hand comes to your cheeks to snatch. Panting heavily as your eyes stay on his, whimpering as he removes his digits from your aching slit. 

The giant huffs with a smirk at the sight of your tears. “Well, I’m not the only one you should swear to, wife.”

Of course, he isn’t; there’s another man in the room witness to your comeuppance. Once Sukuna withdraws himself from your proximity, your trembling figure moves off your back and crawls to the next person who stands on his knees. And you greet him with licks and kisses to his abs. “Toji…” your hands roam to his waist.

“Hey, baby,” emerald eyes observe you. “Got y’rself into trouble today. Didn’t think I wouldn’t see you outside after bein’ told not to?”

“I’m sorry—Mmmm…” you sense Sukuna’s hands keep your ass in place, and the lower other fingers your asshole. Your breath hikes at the contact of the tip of both his cocks, teasing your holes. Something slaps on your cheek, and Toji snickers.

“If y’re really sorry,” the dark-haired man pushes the cockhead to your lips. “Suck this dick like I like it.”

The simultaneous push of Sukuna’s cocks takes your breath, and your mouth is stuck on an indefinite ‘o’ shape. Toji takes advantage and shoves the tip into your mouth. Moans are mumbled, holes puckering to the slow push and pull of the colossus’ hips. After a few seconds, you begin to bob your head and suck.

“Hmmm, bad girl,” Toji grabs for the back of your head. “So busy with y’r lil’ outing that you didn’t notice me see you, walkin’ in the crowd and talkin’ with the townspeople,” he holds his breath from the sight of you lapping your tongue around the glans, precum oozing to your tastebuds. “And then be too friendly with those farmers, laughin’ and talkin’ too close to ‘em.”

You suck on his glans and with a hum. “Mmahh, I wasn’t planning on staying for too long,” you kiss and suck on the skin of the underside of his shaft until you meet his balls. Your tongue swirls on his testes, “I was just being polite—Ahhh!”

“Way too polite,” Sukuna smacks your butt, spawning a mouth to his palm to chew on the flesh to erupt a cry. Another bite comes from his lower right on your waist. “Might as well have asked them to come over.”

“Right…Hnngh!” Toji loves how you guzzle on his testicle. “Is that what ya want, princess? Have some strangers come here and see how much of a slut you are for our dicks, huh?” He yanks you by the chin, your expression already enhancing to a daze. “Wanna let ‘em have a go with you?”

It’s hard to answer as Sukuna ruts increase in pace, toes curling at the rub of your inner walls. “Ghhahh, n-no…! I don’t want anyone else to—shiiit—t-touch me like you do!” Sounds of skin slapping against each other from behind have you twitching even harder. Sukuna places his upper right arm to place on your shoulder to bite on your shoulder, while the lower left slither to your clit for the tongue of his palm to lap and tease. 

“Fuuuck, pussy so tight,” the behemoth sighs deeply. “Feel so good, shit isn’t meant for anyone outside this room.” His hips dial to a sporadic rhythm, shivers crawling up his spine as you scream all cutely from his movement. “All mine,” He bends to speak behind your nape. “All fucking mine.”

“Yesss, ahaaaa,” you howl out with your face smooshed to Toji’s pelvis, your hands stimulating his erection. “I only belong to you, my loves, only you…” you take in Toji’s tip once more, whimpering as his length busy your mouth inch by inch.

“Good girl, good girl,” Toji praises you from above, the hand on your head keeping you glued to him while the other husband has his way with you. Soon enough, both his strong palms come to your face, and he essentially fucks your face like a toy, your jaw loosening to make the process easier. 

Sukuna grabs for your arms and pulls you back but doesn’t stop Toji from fucking your face till the hilt meets your lips, and his balls knock your chin. You’re nerves are heightened, stimulated by the onslaught of pleasure on both ends. Your cunt and anus spasming around the limbs pushing to and fro, and your mouth mumbling on the dick, hitting the back of your throat.

And it doesn’t take long for your climax to steer you off, your frame trembling uncontrollably as you jerk and quaver under the bow of these men. Toji and Sukuna find it amusing, the hand on your clit pinching the bud.

“Hmph, cumming on my cocks like crazy.” The salmon-headed one playfully smacks your ass as your entrances flutter from the aftershocks. “Apology accepted, little bird; consider this a warning until the next time you transgress.”

Toji removes his cock from your mouth, strings of blended saliva and come leave the messy opening. “Now, ya know, princess. C’mon, lemme have my turn.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[bbystark]

♡ soap's little plan ♡

abo!141 x omega!reader

♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡

summary: despite having a pack of his own, soap finds himself wanting more. he's grown tired of being the only Omega with 2 unruly Alphas. good thing you showed up, now he can flush those pesky little suppressants and make you theirs.

⚠︎ suggestive themes, soap being a little obsessed, invasions of privacy

a/n: series??? idk where this came from but enjoy

Soap wasn’t an unhappy man. He was talented, knew just how dangerous he was in the field, how many brushes with death he’d skillfully skirted with a big “fuck you” and a bloody smile. He had the respect of his peers and fear of the new recruits. Most importantly, he had a pack he loved. Never went to bed wanting or alone. His inner Omega should be satisfied, all things considering, and yet, he still yearns. 

He feels guilty sometimes. When he’s laid out on one of his mate’s beds, sweaty and thrumming with release. He rolls over, pressing wet kisses to damp skin and trying to focus on fingers that ghost over his head. Tries to push out the gnawing subconscious thought of more. He wants to scoff at himself. 3 mates and somehow he still couldn’t help but be greedy. 

It’s like Price says in the field (and in the bedroom, funnily enough): “You're a goddamn restless dog ain’t ‘ya? Restless and a dog, indeed. 

His words run through Soap’s mind as he stares at you. His dirty little one-sided secret. He’s watched you for months. Smelled you immediately when his eyes first landed on you, an unforgettable mix of vanilla licorice, fruit, and a tang of something earthy, like grass or rain. So unbelievably feminine and soft, he was intoxicated. Couldn’t help but watch as you walked down the hall. You had glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing slightly; he remembered the chill that ran through him when you locked eyes. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

He had immediately sweet talked the Beta receptionist into handing over your file. He had tucked it under his arm and taken it to his room, locking the door and glancing around like he was a teen with a raunchy magazine. Read it front to back. You were smart, specialized in cybersecurity before you joined the military. Now you drifted from team to team, going where you were needed. Helping run covert hops here, a little hacking there. He felt a grin take over his face when he saw that in your last assignment, you acted as a demolition expert. An impressive resume, he faintly wondered why you hadn’t been pinned down by a team yet. Clearly, you were an asset. 

He got to your current contract papers, seeing you were brought on to be a floater. You’d help with missions in the unit how they saw fit. He could only pray that he’d be working with you eventually. He closes the file, thumbing the small file photo of you. You were beautiful no doubt, not smiling but still holding a hint of softness. 

He pauses when he realizes he didn’t see a presentation in your file. He flips through the pages again, skimming through your medical report. The boxes next to ‘Omega’, ‘Alpha’, and ‘Beta’ are all unmarked. It clicks then, your sweet smell and the lack of presentation in your files. You were an Omega. 

Soap wasn’t really supposed to be where he was as an Omega. While there were no rules against it, there were hardly any Omegas here for a reason. It was hard, both physically and mentally. Soap had taken twice the recommended amount of suppressants and nearly went broke buying scent blockers. Put his body through hell and back to prove he was worthy. It was only when he became Lieutenant and had the protection of a pack that he felt comfortable enough to stop hiding his presentation . By then, no one could really say anything about it. 

His heart raced. You were an Omega. He had no proof other than being one himself, but he was almost sure of it. It did nothing to curb his growing curiosity. 

He should have pushed you out of his mind, but he’s Soap. He’s insistent and can be downright stubborn when it comes down to it. It was just his nature. He formulated a whole plan, get close to you, slowly ease you into meeting his pack, then make you theirs. Plain and simple. 

It was not plain and simple. 

First of all, the guilt started eating at him. He had everything he’d ever hoped for, a family, a successful career, and here he was. The worst part is that Soap couldn’t help it, he loved his mates, their masculine presence and smell that filled a room. But he secretly can’t help but wish there was another Omega around, someone who could help him ground his Alphas. Gaz did a great job, but he was a beta, and Soap often received the brunt end of Ghost and Prices’ more baser instincts. Not just an Omega, but a woman. Someone with that femininity and power that balances and soothes an entire pack into submission. 

Second of all, you didn’t want to give him the time of day. 

The first time he approaches you is in the dining hall, your face stoic and focused as you grab an apple and place it on your tray. He takes a few breaths, your muted and yet somehow still overwhelming scent filling his senses. 

“New around here bonnie?” He finally gets the courage up to speak.  “Names Johnny, but people call me Soap.” He reaches a hand out. 

You take it hesitantly, and he revels in the softness. He tries not to get distracted by the way his hand almost completely covers your own. 

“Y/n.” you respond curtly, releasing his hand and grabbing your tray.  “Transferred a week ago.” You don’t wait for his response, making your way over to one of the many tables littered with people chatting. Soap hastily grabs a banana and his tray, taking long strides to catch up with you. 

“So uh, how you likin’ it so far?” He flinches at his own stutter. God, he’s out of practice. 

You give him a pointed look. 

“S’fine.” You sit, hastily picking up your spoon and taking a bite of oatmeal. It doesn’t deter Soap. 

He spends the next 30 minutes talking your ear off, receiving the occasional nod or “mhm” from you. You give up very little about yourself, answering shortly and precisely. It drives him mad. 

You cut off his rant on the latest recruits, standing abruptly. “It was nice talking with you Lieutenant MacTavish, but I have to get going.” 

He watches as you leave, stunned and frankly a little turned on at how easily you brushed him off. Soap was a sucker for a chase. 

He faintly realizes that you knew his rank and last name, and has a feeling that you’re a careful and intelligent woman. It only fuels his growing suspicion of your presentation. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Soap keeps trying after that, despite the gnawing feeling of guilt and greediness. The less you give him, the more enraptured he becomes. With every eye roll and silent stretch you give him, he falls deeper and deeper into the need to make you his. 

It only takes a couple months for it all to come to a head. Soap finds you in a hallway late at night, most people tucked away in their quarters. Your scent is slightly off, soured and citrusy. He loves it. 

“Where are you stormin’ off to?” 

You don’t answer, which is not unusual, but the way you push past him without so much of a glance, is. “Aye, c’mon love, what’s got you so worked up?” 

You turn on your heel, almost crashing into Soap. You didn’t hate him, sometimes you even welcomed the company, even though his jokes were shit. Not that you’d let him know you even remotely liked his presence. You stare him down for a second, teeth gritted. 

You had just overheard some particularly nasty and sexist comments about you, not the first time- hell not even the fiftieth time. But it never stung less, that people refused to see your experience and rank simply because you had the misfortune of being born a woman. You regret the words almost as soon as you say them. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, MacTavish. I’m not interested in your company, and I sure as shit didn’t ask for it. Go bother your pack, and leave me alone.” You spit the word at him, and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s a reflection of your own loneliness deep down. You can’t stand the shock on his face, so you turn around and sulk to the kitchen to find a sweet treat to placate you. 

Soap watches as you leave, and he’s hurt. How can you not see how perfect you’d be for the pack? Granted, he’s the only one that knows, he still has no idea how to broach the topic with his pack. Would they hate him? Call him selfish, wonder why they weren’t enough for him? His fists clench at his sides as your scent completely fades. 

Then it clicks. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. He smiles to himself, no longer upset at your blatant rejection. He almost skips back to his room. 

He has it all figured out. 

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The next morning he flirts with some nurses, brings them donuts from the place off base. While they’re all distracted and giggling amongst each other, he quietly slips into the record room and grabs your files. His heart beats out of his chest at the little checkmark next to “Omega”. 

He knew it. He flips through the files quickly, finding a detailed page tracking your heat cycles. You haven’t had a heat in years, seeing a note that says you denied a doctor's request to go into heat at least once every 3 years. He knew that pain, he couldn’t imagine you putting yourself through that. You shouldn't be putting yourself through that. He’ll make sure that you don’t have to anymore. 

He flips a few more pages, going back to when you did have your heats. He finds an entry that notes that you had unusually long and painful heats, along with a prescription of sedatives. The next line states that you usually have them every 3 months, February, May, August and sometimes December. He hears his heartbeat in his ears when he realizes his luck of it being the beginning of December. It was meant to be. 

He closes the file quietly, closing his eyes in relief. You’d be his, and his pack’s, soon. 

That night, while you’re showering in the gym, Soap is breaking into your room. It doesn’t take much effort, he’s in within minutes, stepping into your sacred space. There’s a half assed nest in the corner of your room, your instincts must be strong if you’re still nesting while taking suppressants. He wants to go over and fluff it for you, add his scent covered shirt to the pitiful pile. He shakes his head. He needs to focus on why he’s here. 

He rifles through your cabinets, desperately searching. He knows you like long showers, but he’s still on edge. If he gets caught, it’s all over. He tries to be quick without disturbing the placement of your items, but he begins to panic when he can’t find those familiar little pills. He rushes to your bed, looking underneath. He’s about to lose hope when he moves from underneath your bed, cursing when he knocks his head on the frame. 

He almost doesn’t hear it. The soft thud of something falling. He looks back under the bed, eyes falling on a tiny box meant for jewelry. He grabs it, slowly opening it and removing the piece of foam on top. 

Bingo. 

He stares at the tiny pills, the familiar pale blue a contrast against the black of the box. He spills a few in his hand. There were enough for months. You were like he was, handing your health over in exchange for surviving here. His fist closes over pills as he makes his way out of your room. He locks your door behind him, trying not to run to his room. When he makes it there, he’s buzzing with excitement. He goes to his bathroom, opening the toilet lid and fishing the box from his pocket. He doesn’t hesitate in throwing them all into the bowl, and watching as the water swirls when he flushes. The water settles, and your pills are gone. 

Omega’s are the most sensitive of the three presentations. Senses more in tune than even the best Alpha. It was in their very biology to be strong in ways Alpha’s were not, to hold a pack together. Your biology would work quickly, work through the artificial hormones you’d been poisoning yourself with in haste. It happened to him, after so long of suppressing his Omega, it came back with a vengeance. You would be no different. 

And with Price’s rut- and Ghost’s, coming up soon, they won’t stand a chance against the strong smell of an Omega in heat. He’ll make sure that they find you, that they take care of you. 

It was all part of his plan, after all.

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐾𝐼𝑆𝑆 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝐼’𝑀 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸.

꒰ armin takes his pretty girlfriend on a picnic in an enchanted forest.꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 1.4k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, established relationship, sub / dom, profanity, pet names, unprotected penetrative sex, we’re in luvvv, outside indecency, love bites, praise, kinda shy reader, smoking, kreampie, minors aren’t welcomed ! reblogs + comments are appreciated! <3

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . this been in the drafts since 2022 y’all. a lil sum.

a pastel baby blue dress clings tight to your smooth skin, looking like the prettiest cottage core girl. frills on the shoulders and bust sitting low to accentuate your perky chest. love handles and tummy pudge swallowed by the soft material. armin couldn't keep his eyes, or hands, to himself. rubbing all up on you throughout your entire picnic date. fresh air blows through the trees and the bright views of sunlight beam across the blue lake where pure white doves swam in silence. armin had found this mythical location by driving around one day. it's quiet and reserved, deep into an enchanted forest.

the two of you sat on a blanket sprawled out on the grass, enjoying the food armin neatly packed. lots of fruits because you loved them. strawberries, raspberries, pomegranates, green grapes, apricots, and peaches . . . you name it. overdoing it just a bit, but he knows it’ll be eaten by this week. this was breakfast, the time now around eleven in the morning, so while you got ready he prepped the food. heart shaped pancakes, waffles, turkey bacon, pork sausage, scrambled cheese eggs and of course never forgetting your orange juice.

to make it cuter he brought a glass vase and filled it with water and multicolor roses he bought from the flower shop. you ate so much food your stomach bloated, unable to eat anymore. armin lays on his back with you to stare up at the sky and watch the trees blow, the weather perfect for the occasion. the sun hitting your skin serenely. you rest your head on armin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as he massages your back in gentle circles, nearly falling asleep because you’re so at peace.

“i’m so glad we did this,” a yawn escapes as you smile sweetly at him, rubbing his stomach over his white tee.

armin presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering it before mumbling, “me too.” soon, digging into his jean pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. tapping the plastic box to release a stick. your body moves with the forearm he brings together to light his cig, flicking the lighter twice and satiating his need.

“i needed a break from life. so, thank you, love.” the softness in your voice makes the man's heart beat twice as fast. he smiles at you after turning his head the opposite way to blow out smoke, knowing you hated it in your face. being at close proximity right now was less irritating since you're elated at the moment. you could care less because he's comfortable, and it makes you feel the same. you could never get him to quit no matter how hard you tried. never argued with him about it. minor debates but he gave valid points so you laid off it.

“i figured it'd be nice to escape for the day. it's upsetting we have to return to reality tomorrow. but when i'm with you, it always feels . . . free.”

armin brushes a curved knuckle over your cheekbone, your eyes glued to his own.

“i feel the same way.”

“i say i love you all the time. but do you really understand it? how deep it is?”

you curl your lips inward, pondering on his question. more like a statement.

“i know you love me. you show it more ways than one. i think that's meaningful overall.”

fluffy blond hair with gold hues covers his angelic baby blue eyes, reaching up to tuck some of the wavy ringlets behind his ear.

“tell me you love me, then gimme a kiss.”

your face grows hot from his demand, growing nervous. you sit up briefly to grab a peach to bite into and distract yourself, more like hide your face because you were smiling so hard. this happens to be the second time since he's first told you he loved you. it makes you shy even still, the rush of heat coming to your cheeks from the intense glare he gives you, waiting for you to say it. you don't know why it felt so hard to utter. it's clear you love him, but maybe it was the large commitment of the word . . . the vulnerability, the devotion, the forever tie that scared you.

"tell me you love me, or i'll make you say it, ꒰♡꒱ ."

and make you he does.

his breath is warm on your neck, tongue following to lick a bold stripe over your skin with his fingers indented into the flesh of your cheeks and jaw. your face is upturned, head resting on his shoulder, back to his chest as you rely on his body for your balance. your thighs are spread wide, holding yourself open with your unoccupied hand, gripping under the bend of your knees, whimpering in the breezy air as his hips interact with the round of your ass, fucking you from the side fervidly. his moans are light, dancing in your ear while you claw into the picnic blanket beneath you two, clutching the grass and dirt in the wake. tuning into the lewd interaction of his heavy dick pounding into you, tits bouncing out of the enclosure of your dress.

“i can’t hear you, ꒰♡꒱,” armin grits his teeth, his lips on your jaw now, kissing away and grunting as he raises his hips to fuck you deeper, thrusts steady but rough. you’re feeling dizzy, whining from the baritone of his voice. “i didn’t make myself clear enough?”

“n-no. . . ar—min. mmph,” while denying, there’s a crack in your voice as you try your best to speak, moans rumbling in your throat, your tummy jiggling from his harsh pace.

“then tell me, tell me,” armin’s voice is a whispered plead, his jeans to his knees and his shirt pulled up to his midsection, skin scorching against your own.

you’re soft, and small. his big hand with veins protruding goes from your face to your chest, tweaking your nipples that spilled out of it’s cups alluringly, before spanking them with the pads of his fingers. tweak, spank, tweak, spank. it’s a notion that has you drooling, and sobbing pathetically. he’s trying to upkeep his composure, trying not to bottom out and lose his sanity. you’re too cute.

“i love youuu,” you finally cry out, ragged moans falling out in shorts gasps, tears coaxing and the pressure in your tummy building.

“fuck, there you go, sweetie,” his excitement shows through the way his dick slips out of you, both of you gasping from the loss until he slaps your clit with his dick, your juices sputtering out of you with each wet pat pat pat. armin draws his hips back slightly before sliding back inside easily, digging his fingers into the back of your thigh you held up and rolled his waist to fuck you harder.

each pound is harder than the previous, his jaw widening as he chokes on his moans and catches your throat with his mouth, tongue lolling out occasionally and his teeth following suit. your head is tossed back entirely, his arm going around your shoulder to cradle you, falling back on the ground. your thighs press tightly together, and you hold onto his arm while his middle and ring fingers thrum intricately over your puffy clit to watch her squirt.

armin hisses with skaken moan. “say it again, ꒰♡꒱.”

“i love you, armin.”

“again,” he’s biting at your neck again, your mouth agape from the combination of that and the head of his dick kissing your sweet spot.

“b-baby, g-god. i love you.”

“ooh, shit,” armin then pushes your left thigh flat to the ground, your body twisted as he goes to level himself above you in push up form, dropping his dick into you with steady, hard pounds. his voice grows weak, moans whiny as he cums deep inside of you, and you follow not long after, squeaking and clutching onto his wrist planted by your head. the softness of your ass bouncing back onto his hips is entrancing. his ass flexing when he grinds into your pussy.

“oh my god,” those pretty strands of blond sway in front of his face, giggling and lowering his body to rest his chest on your side. repeatedly leaving kisses to your flushed cheeks, neck, even your forehead. unable to move at all.

“i really love you, i swear,” the pads of your fingers brush over his pink lips, overly sensitive at the moment so you definitely felt like crying. a high pitched hiccup interrupts the moment, and that only makes armin roll his lips inward before bursting out a laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he gives you an eskimo kiss before smooching your lips. “i know you do.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life. 🫧🍓

[seneon]

INTERTWINED GAZES ──── katsuki bakugo

about. in which, everybody's watching her, but she only has eyes for him. romantic fluff. wc of 700+

notes. inspired by "this is what you came for" by calvin & rihanna. okay maybe katsuki is interesting to write too... forrr @seumyo aka katsuki's girl and @angeliicheartt my pooki

you took a trip down to a memory lane ingrained and portrayed with the best moments in your life back in UA. it all started with the very first step you took into hero class 1A, and it all travels to your final year in 3A.

it has been a journey. to grow in your quirk and to grow in your friendship with your classmates. for whatever reason, your love for katsuki seems to grow as it has with the other aspects that bring your whole life up.

now you're standing amongst all the other future heroes who danced and reveled in the pool of their sweet graduation. the bass of the party song finds a funny comfort at the back of your ears as the colourful lights run around in every direction, painting your skin whatever hue the light shines.

the emcee announces for a time where the next song will be the momentary dopamine boost for the students, a dance with a partner. by now, most of the students have their own partner. you can tell, they've grown on each other. they've fallen in love. they've locked their fates together.

not that you aren't a fan of romance, but the eyes of every other student that darts to you right after the implication of a partner dance has your eyes locked onto one boy, and only him.

every soul is watching you, but you're looking at katsuki. dear sweet katsuki who stands at one corner with a fruit punch in one hand, and his other hand stuffed into his pockets. he takes a sip of his drink before his scarlet eyes shoot to your direction and he freezes.

katsuki freezes because the girl he's always admiring from afar is looking at him. she's on the dance floor with so many other boys, but her sights are set on katsuki.

your heart starts to speed up as your hands are gently pushed against your chest to stop the rapid beating. even under the blaring colourful lights and the music that is almost ending, you looked like the ultimate beauty to katsuki. even though your eyes are taken off from him, his gaze is still fixed onto yours.

“dance with her,” midoriya breaks katsuki out of his trance and glances at his friend who shot him a smile. “you’ll never have this chance again, kacchan.”

midoriya’s words seemed to puncture some sort of idea in his mind. katsuki walks towards you, pushing his way through the crowd while setting his drinks aside so he could tap on your shoulders to get your attention.

when you looked at him, he lost all his confidence. it's all because in this moment, he feels so vulnerable under your gaze. your eyes that hold some kind of beauty in them and they see through all the imperfections of katsuki.

and though there are many people special to him, you are the only soul who can touch his cool heart with your warm smile that surfaces.

“i want to dance with you,” the blond blurts out with a murmur, the colour of roses painting his cheeks and you couldn't help but feel your blush own deepening. “i’ll dance with you, katsuki.”

everything was so sweet. the way his hands held yours so gently, a monstrous contrast to how aggressive he usually is. his touch is so warm and it has you falling in love all over again with this boy. you had your first dance with the first boy you liked.

and when you look back at it, you've always wondered why it took three years for you to confess your love to katsuki. you still wonder until now, years after the graduation party where you're now a pro hero, just a few ranks under katsuki.

“are you looking at our graduation picture again?” the voice of your husband asks as you pull your gaze off from the photo album and nod at katsuki who takes off his costume gears.

“it was on this date where you asked me to dance with you, and we ended up confessing to each other,” you said as he walked over to you sitting on the couch and gave your cheek a peck.

“of course. i still remember."

katsuki will never forget about it. because if a genie grants him a wish, it will be for him to ask you to dance with him over and over again.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝖾𝗍𝗒!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : reader doesn’t like too much noise, fluff, hurt / comfort, overstimulation, anxiety attack word count : 1.7k

the market was bustling, a chaotic symphony of sounds and voices blending into a cacophony that seemed to press in from all sides. you had insisted on coming here today, convinced that the fresh air and the lively atmosphere would be a good distraction. logan had grumbled about it, but he didn’t say no. he never did when you asked for something, though he’d never admit it outright.

the two of you weaved through the crowd, your hand firmly in his as you tried to focus on the stalls and the colourful displays of fruits, vegetables, and handmade goods. the noise level was bearable at first, just the usual hum of a busy saturday market. but as more people crowded in, the volume began to rise, the chatter growing louder, the clatter of goods being moved and sold becoming sharper, more jarring.

logan noticed the change in you almost immediately. your steps faltered slightly, your grip on his hand tightening. he glanced down at you, his brow furrowing in concern. “you okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but laced with a softness that he reserved just for you.

you nodded quickly, not wanting to worry him. “yeah, just... ‘s a bit loud, that’s all.”

he huffed, not entirely convinced, but he didn’t push it. instead, he subtly adjusted his pace, guiding you through the crowd in a way that kept you close to his side, his body acting as a buffer against the worst of the noise and the press of people.

you tried to focus on the little things - the way the sun filtered through the trees lining the market square, the vibrant colours of the flowers in the florist’s stall, the comforting weight of logan’s hand in yours. but the noise kept building, growing louder and more overwhelming with each passing minute. someone dropped a crate of vegetables nearby, the crash reverberating through the air, and you flinched, your heart rate spiking as the world seemed to close in around you.

logan felt the jolt in your body and immediately turned to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “hey,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise like a lifeline. “let’s get out of here, okay? it’s too much.”

you shook your head, trying to be brave, trying to push through it. “i don’t wanna ruin our day. you were looking forward to that food stall, remember?”

“screw the food stall,” logan said bluntly, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a rare, gentle gesture. “you’re more important. let’s go.”

but as you nodded, agreeing to leave, a loud burst of laughter erupted from a group of people nearby, followed by the sharp bark of a vendor calling out his wares. it was too much. your vision blurred as your breathing became shallow and rapid, the noise crashing over you in waves, each sound a sharp needle piercing your senses. you tried to ground yourself, to hold onto logan, but your hands were trembling too much to keep a grip on his.

logan noticed immediately, his own heart tightening in his chest as he saw the panic taking hold of you. without a second thought, he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you protectively. “‘m here,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. “i’ve got you. just focus on me.”

you clung to him, your face buried in his chest as you tried to block out the world. logan’s scent - earthy, with a hint of the aftershave he always used - was familiar, grounding. his arms around you were strong and reassuring, a solid presence in the midst of the storm.

“deep breaths,” he coaxed, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear. “in and out, just like we practised. ‘m not going anywhere, okay? ‘m right here.”

you tried to follow his instructions, but the panic was too strong, the noise too overwhelming. it felt like the ground was shifting beneath your feet, the world spinning out of control. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you hated that you couldn’t just push through it, that you couldn’t be stronger.

logan didn’t say anything when he noticed the tears, but his arms tightened around you, holding you closer. “it’s okay,” he whispered, his tone softer than you’d ever heard it. “it’s okay to feel like this. you don’t have to be strong all the time. that’s what ‘m here for.”

his words broke through the fog of your anxiety, and you focused on his voice, on the steady beat of his heart against your ear. slowly, the panic began to ebb, the tightness in your chest loosening as you matched your breathing to his.

logan stayed with you, his presence a constant source of comfort as the noise of the market faded into the background. he didn’t care about the people around you, didn’t care if anyone was watching. all that mattered was you, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

after what felt like an eternity, the world began to right itself again. the noise was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp, as overwhelming. you could breathe without feeling like you were drowning.

“better?” logan asked, his voice still soft, though there was a hint of his usual gruffness returning. he wasn’t used to being so openly gentle, but for you, he’d make the effort.

you nodded against his chest, too drained to speak. logan didn’t seem to mind. he just held you for a while longer, letting you take your time to recover. when you finally pulled back, he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a seriousness that made your heart ache.

“we’re going home,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

you opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped you. he wasn’t going to budge on this, and deep down, you knew he was right. you needed the quiet, the safety of your own space.

“okay,” you agreed quietly, your voice still a little shaky.

logan nodded, satisfied with your answer. he kept his arm around you as he guided you out of the market, his presence a protective barrier against the noise and the crowd. you leaned into him, grateful for his strength, for the way he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

the walk back to the apartment was quiet, the streets less crowded as you moved further away from the market. logan didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. his hand in yours, the way he stayed close, was more than enough.

when you finally reached the apartment, logan helped you inside, his movements careful and deliberate. he steered you toward the couch, gently pushing you to sit down. “stay here,” he ordered gruffly, though the concern in his eyes softened the command. “i’ll get you some water.”

you nodded, sinking into the cushions as the exhaustion from the anxiety attack settled over you. by the time logan returned with the water, your hands had stopped trembling, and your breathing had evened out. you accepted the glass with a small smile of thanks, taking a few sips as logan sat down next to you.

he didn’t say anything at first, just watched you closely, his expression unreadable. then, after a long moment, he reached out and took the glass from your hands, setting it aside. “come here,” he said, his voice softer now.

you didn’t hesitate, curling up against his side as he wrapped an arm around you. you rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes closing as the familiar scent of him surrounded you. logan’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, his touch light and soothing.

“you’re okay,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were truly alright. “we’re okay.”

you nodded against his shoulder, feeling the tension in your body finally begin to melt away. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “for being here. for always being here.”

logan didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his voice was gruff, almost embarrassed. “don’t mention it. it’s what ‘m supposed to do, right?”

you smiled, knowing that for logan, this was as close as he got to expressing his feelings out loud. he wasn’t one for grand declarations or flowery words, but his actions spoke louder than anything he could ever say. and right now, the way he held you, the way he had been there for you through the worst of it, said more than any words ever could.

“i love you,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

logan stiffened slightly, and you immediately worried that you’d said too much, that you’d pushed him too far. but then he relaxed, his grip on you tightening just a fraction. “i know,” he muttered, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. “i love you too.”

the admission was quiet, almost reluctant, but it warmed you from the inside out. you smiled against his shoulder, your heart feeling lighter despite the exhaustion. “we’ll stay home the rest of the day?” you asked, already knowing his answer.

logan snorted, his usual gruffness back in full force. “damn straight. we’re not going anywhere. ‘m not letting you out of my sight.”

you laughed softly, the sound easing the last of the tension between you. “i think i’m okay with that.”

“damn right, you are,” logan grumbled, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away.

and just like that, the world felt a little bit brighter again, the storm of anxiety fading into the background as you sat together in the quiet safety of your home.

[erwinsvow]

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.

word count: 2k

now spinning: freak by lana del rey

author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!

He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.

At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.

You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you. 

You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.

Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.

He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing. 

Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.

That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.

It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that. 

Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.

He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.

𝜗𝜚

The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.

The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.

“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?” 

“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.” 

“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”

“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.” 

“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.

“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”

You smile, giddily. 

“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.

“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”

𝜗𝜚

The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven��t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands. 

You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair. 

On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.

Crap. 

When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.

She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.

“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”

“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.

“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door. 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.

“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.

𝜗𝜚

It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him. 

Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.

“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it. 

“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”

“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”

“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.” 

“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”

“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands. 

“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”

“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.

“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.

“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”

“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”

You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.

“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?” 

You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.

“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.

JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.

“No, no, gross, gross!”

John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.

You let out another breath.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now. 

“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!

[loaksky]

— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘴

the deets — in which you, a quiet healer in the tribe, have the biggest crush on the upcoming leader. sometimes you think the feelings could be mutual. until one night in the glowing forest shatters that.

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — like 7.6k (jesus h. christ)

the tags — idiots-to-lovers (it's teyam, he's the dummy), childhood friends-to-lovers, one-sided pining (reader is a softie).

the warnings — language, a lil kithy kithy, neteyam's emotionally constipated, but he redeems himself! reader's kind of a pushover, but it comes full circle!

the notes — first post for avatar & i'm really excited but a lil nervous bc like ??? i haven't written fanfic in SO long. i imagine neteyam & reader to be a few years older in this fic (eighteen or nineteen), but at the same time the circumstances could fit their current age as well. finally, this is written in a heinous blend of second / third. don't know how to explain, but i think it flows okay? if you like it please leave a request or let's have a chat! (also barely proofread oops).

YOU AND NETEYAM HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN DISTANT ORBIT. Many would argue the two of you are cut from the same cloth; quiet, noble, mature, but you couldn't feel even more disconnected from the tribe's golden boy even if a chasm would crack the earth between you.

It's why you think it's silly that you'd develop such a yearning, your heart thudding like a war drum every time his amber eyes flit to yours. There's never any weight to his gaze, just fleeting glances among frequent observation, but you can't help but stare.

It doesn't help that his youngest siblings cling to you like a second and third skin, chattering excitedly about whatever piques their immediate interest. You just listen and hum your acknowledgements, a comfort to the two as you move through your studies.

Oftentimes he's sent to fetch his siblings, clearing his throat outside of the tent's flaps to announce himself, then wiggling a few fingers through the opening before peering in.

He's always in a hurry, never biting when you offer him opportunities to linger. You understand, how busy it can be when the whole clan begins to rely on you. So you bask in the short-lived moments in his space, skin scented with salt and the tang of the foliage.

But there are moments when you truly think he sees you. When you cross paths during clan meals, and the smallest of smiles twitches in his lips when you cut fruit and he's the first you offer to. When it's time to train to shoot your bows and he adjusts your form with a brief brush of his fingers on your elbow. When all of the older healers are unavailable and he shyly peeks his head into your tent for a quick patch up.

Nevermind the small tells stored in your short-term, but the little slivers of time when you were both growing into yourselves. When you were seven and he'd carried you to the elders when you hurt yourself. When some of the older kids in the clan would pick on you for keeping to yourself and he'd tell them that it was unbecoming and cowardly to pick on someone weaker than them. When he picked a flower during a group excursion into the deep depths of the forest and stuck the glowing stem in your satchel.

You had fallen so hard for Neteyam and your only hope is that he'd be at the end of the fall to catch you.

“You're not listening, ________!” Tuk whines and you look up from the scrolls you unfurled from the basket moments before she walked in.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I have a lot on my mind.”

There's a small giggle from somewhere else in the tent and you peer from Tuk to Kiri who beads an anklet on her own.

“Yeah, like big brother,” Tuk teases, turning her attention back to her own beadwork.

Kiri's face splits into a grin.

“You've been lost in thought a lot more recently,” she observes. “Could Tuk be correct?”

You don't bother to deny it, the obvious flush in your cheeks a dead giveaway. Kiri's always been perceptive and the more you fight her on it, the longer she'll draw it out.

“I think it's worth a shot,” Kiri says. “Neteyam’s always had a soft spot for you.”

It's a million degrees hotter in the tent.

“You don't have to do that,” you say quietly, slouching in your seat.

“Do what?” Kiri challenges.

“Pretend I have a chance.”

Kiri makes a face.

“You do!” she argues. “Neteyam's just shy.”

You're silent for a moment, fingers twitching over a tear in the scroll. You want to believe her, tell her that you think it could be worth a shot, too. But you scent him before you hear him, and then you hear him before you see him.

Four blue fingers wiggle in the tent's opening before Neteyam is poking his head inside.

“Tuk? Kiri?” his voice rumbles. “Ready?”

Kiri glances at you as she stands to her feet and begins gathering her things. Her eyebrows do a little dance, eyes widening as she tilts her head discreetly to her brother.

“I'll see you,” you say quietly, patting Tuk on the back of her leg as she drops her finished anklet in your lap and giggles at you.

You follow their movements as they exit the tent through where Neteyam holds the flap open for them patiently.

He simply lifts a hand as a silent greeting and you wait until they're out of sight and earshot to expel the breath you'd been holding and slump down on your pillow.

In hindsight, you should have been more careful. Neteyam was a skillful hunter, the tribe's best warrior after his father. It's only normal that he'd be in the dense forest when you were plucking flowers and herbs for your salves, speaking quietly to Eywa about your concerns.

“Please, Great Mother,” you whisper, the woodsprites caressing the skin of your arms. "Please give me a sign, any form of motivation to be brave about my feelings."

The grass below your toes lights up and tickles the pads of your fingers as you pluck the glowing flowers.

There's a trail of them, purple and pink, and you pluck and pluck and pluck until you're led to the mouth of a clearing.

Something salty and tangy circles your figure and like usual, you scent him before you see him. When your gaze latches onto his lithe figure, you grin a little, lips parting to announce yourself. This must be your sign, of how vast and great the forests are surrounding your looming home tree, it must be fate that you stumble upon him at this hour.

But his name dies on your tongue when he shifts and you see the silhouette of another pressed to his side.

It's another Omaticaya girl, pretty and tall. You'd know her anywhere, the waves of her thick hair, the tinkle of her dainty laugh. But she is fierce all the same, far from perfect, but gritty enough that it doesn't matter.

Te'feyra draws a bow and one of Neteyam's hands come up to adjust her front grasp, fingers closing over hers and the arrow.

“Steady hands to make up for the recoil,” he says softly and your heart is in your throat.

He's engulfing her as she takes her aim and sends the arrow flying through the air.

Somewhere unknown to you, the arrow sticks its landing and Te'feyra jumps excitedly, pressing her lips to Neteyam's briefly.

You back away from the clearing, eyes burning as you fist the flowers so hard they wilt in your hands. A twig snaps underneath your weight and from your distance, you see the glow of Neteyam and Te'feyra's eyes through the brush.

You take off running without a single word, and despite your stomach tearing itself to ribbons, you thank Eywa for the clarity.

“Something's wrong,” Kiri says to you days later.

Instead of the tent, you two are sitting on opposing branches of a thick tree, observing the flora and fauna of your corner of the forest. You decide that you need some time away from the bustle of the clan's circle and venture off into the opposite side of the woods.

“Why do you say?” you wonder, scribbling onto one of your scrolls.

“You're naturally quiet, I get that, but the past few days, I feel like I've been in the presence of the dead,” she sighs, staring down at you from the branch above. “And Ewya's given me the feeling that all may not be well with you.”

You lick your teeth, then roll your lips nervously.

“I told you Neteyam didn't like me,” you admit.

Kiri's eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him,” you sigh, fiddling with your pen. “In the forest with Te'feyra. She kissed him.”

Kiri curses under her breath.

“This is stupid,” she huffs. “He's just being stupid. Neteyam likes you and I'm going to prove it.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Kiri's already jumping down from the branches of the tree and dragging you with her through the darkening forest.

“Kiri, this isn't necessary,” you finally pipe up. “It's okay if the feeling isn't mutual, I never expected it to be.”

Kiri stops in her tracks and her pinched face softens, braids swinging by the set of her jaw.

“________, we all grew up together,” she says softly. “I know my brother, and I know you. You two belong together, I feel it.”

You swallow around nothing, allowing her to drag you through the forest and back into the clan's main circle.

“Hey, Kiri! ________, where are you two headed off to in such a rush?” one of the elders calls from where they're working on tools.

Kiri smiles politely.

“Very important business,” she replies quickly, fingers tightening around your wrist to pull you across the grass.

You stop in front of their family's hometree and Kiri guides you through vines and steep inclines before pausing in front of their family's tent.

Lo'ak's voice sounds from within, whiny and irritated.

“Bro, are you being serious right now?” he squeaks and Neteyam grunts, obviously bored.

“Frankly, Lo'ak this has nothing to do with you,” he says.

“Dude, yes it does,” Lo'ak argues. “You've inadvertently involved everyone in this affair because you won't get your head out of your ass for three seconds and just admit that you like her.”

“I don't like, ________,” he says simply and Kiri freezes in front of you.

You chew the inside of your cheek, fingers twitching in Kiri's loosened hold.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Lo'ak moans. “You're really going to commit to Te'feyra even though you have no interest in her?”

“Te'feyra is a great huntress,” Neteyam says simply. “She's well-loved, a strong leader. What's there not to like?”

“________ is all of those things,” Lo'ak says. “She's a talented healer, always patches you up when you get yourself in trouble. The clan loves her, Tuk and Kiri love her, Mom and Dad love her.”

“The clan barely knows that ________ exists,” Neteyam says and you wince.

Kiri makes a move to infiltrate the heated conversation, but you put a hand on her shoulder and shake your head.

“Dude, that's low,” Lo'ak scoffs in disbelief.

“________ is a sweet girl, but she's weak. She's hollow and does what she's told. I wouldn't want to spend my life bonded to someone so passive,” Neteyam says plainly and Lo'ak lets out an exasperated hiss.

“You're kidding right? ________ is amazing,” Lo'ak challenges. “She's quiet, but she's caring. She's resilient and intelligent and anyone would be lucky to be bonded to someone like her, your stupid ass included.”

“Maybe you should focus more on training for your rite rather than trying to play matchmaker,” Neteyam says, showing the first signs of annoyance.

“You just won't admit that for the first time you're scared,” Lo'ak finally says.

Everything seems to still and Lo'ak presses on.

“Everyone loves you, you're the clan's golden child and you can do no wrong. You like ________ so much, but you're afraid that you'll let her down,” Lo'ak says fiercely. “But you don't realize that being a pussy about your feelings is the ultimate let down!”

“You'd know a lot about being a let down, wouldn't you,” Neteyam grumbles.

There's a split second of silence before Neteyam lets out a loud grunt of pain. The flap to their tent flies open and Lo'ak freezes before you and Kiri.

His eyes meet yours and his gaze softens before stalking past.

Neteyam stands stunned in the middle of the tent, lip bruised and bleeding. His gaze swings to the arch way, face falling when he finds you standing behind his younger sister.

“Wanna go swimming?” Tuk asks you the next evening, after dinner.

You smile down at her weakly, heart melting when she pets your hand. You can't deny her, nodding gently as you stand from where you're sitting on the outer circle of the scattered clan.

“Carry me?” she asks sweetly.

You heave her up with a grunt and she grins at you, playing with one of the braids in your hair. Her small fingers caress the skin of your cheek and you blink when she ghosts over your eyelid.

“Pretty,” she whispers, head nestling on your shoulder.

“I think you're prettier,” you tell her, readjusting her growing form as you walk through the brush, towards the rush of the waterfall.

You don't realize that there's a set of eyes on you, watching as you disappear through the trees with Tuk.

The cliff that houses the waterfall towers above you two in a semicircle, the water rippling gently as Tuk squirms from your grasp and splashes through the shallow pool.

“Stay close, Tuk,” you coo, toes wiggling through the pebbles washed up on the tiny shore.

“I've been practicing!” Tuk tells you. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath under water?”

“Stay in shallow waters,” you advise her, wading into the pool until you're waist deep.

Tuk dramatically inhales and then sinks down under the surface. Something cracks in the distance and you glance around, met with the stillness of the forest and the chirp of bugs.

When you turn your attention back to Tuk, you smile fondly as you wait for her to emerge, counting the seconds diligently to report to her chubby cheeks.

Fifteen pass, then thirty. Your smile begins to fade as your arms feel around in the water around you.

“Tuk?” you call out, chest tightening when you're met with the subtle rush of the glittering cascade from the waterfall up above.

You push forward in the water until your chin touches the surface.

“Tuktirey!” you shout, thrashing around the pool, searching for her tiny frame through the illumination. “Tuk!”

Your toes lose purchase as the water deepens and you begin to panic without the youngest Sully in sight. You turn when you hear a splash, Tuk giggling on the shore.

Your stomach churns hard and Tuk's face falls when she sees your panicked expression.

“Tuk, I-I can't swim well!” you cry out, legs flailing as you splash through the water. You try to dig your toes in the earth below, but you're just shy of the mark.

Tuk looks scared on the shore, fidgeting as she looks around desperately.

“You're too deep, ________!” Tuk whines, voice laced with tears.

Your legs ache, head lolling under the water for a moment before you emerge with a splutter.

“Get– Go get help!” you instruct her, feeling your calves begin to burn as you try to keep yourself afloat. You don't know how long you'll be able to tread water. “I'll be okay, little one. Hurry!”

Tuk turns, picking up her satchel as she makes way for the path you took. When she's out of sight, you fall slack, chest heaving as you try to use your skinny arms to paddle at the water.

Meanwhile, Tuktirey runs through the forest, tears spilling down her rounded cheeks as she trips over sprawling roots and nudges low-hanging vines from the pathway.

She skids to a stop when Neteyam, who had finally worked up the nerve to excuse himself from dinner, comes into view.

He turns when he hears her wailing, face scrunching when he registers his youngest sibling's anguish.

“Tuk, wha—”

She grabs at his hands, tugging him towards the path to the waterfall.

“________ needs help!” she cries. “She can't swim!”

Neteyam's ears prick at the mention of your name, scooping up his youngest sibling in his arms before breaking into a sprint through the brush of the brightening forest. The woodsprites begin to emerge and he barrels into the clearing of the waterfall breathlessly.

It's still, like it's been untouched and his heart hammers nervously in his chest, eyes searching the pool for any sign of you.

He's setting Tuk down quickly before splash desperately into the water.

“_______!” he calls.

He ducks underneath the surface, eyes open wide as he searches for you. And there you are, body slack as you sink slowly to the bottom of the rocky pool.

He dives forward, lungs burning as he cuts through the waters with lean arms. His fingers circle one of your wrists, the other hand winding around your waist as he propels you two up above the water. He chokes on a breath, hand coming up to touch your face.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes shut as Neteyam holds you close.

“Neteyam!” Te'feyra calls from the shore, having followed him after being rebuffed during dinner.

Kiri and Lo'ak are close behind, eyes wide when they see their eldest brother wading quickly through the waters with your unconscious form in his arms.

“Neteyam,” Te'feyra repeats, hand coming to grasp his bicep.

“Not now,” he grunts, tugging his arm from her grasp to march through the brush of the forest.

Woodsprites surround you two as he takes you back to the village, a silent plea to the Great Mother not to take you away weighing heavy on his lips.

You awake to a shining sun and a wet towel on your head. You squint against the beaming light and sit up abruptly as the prior night dawns you like a swift strike to the gut.

“Whoa, wait, slow down,” a thick voice rumbles.

You scent him before you see him.

Neteyam's hands are on you, guiding you back to rest on the pile of pillows that had propped you up before.

You shoot up again anyways.

“Where's Tuk?” you ask anxiously.

“Tuk's fine,” Neteyam says. “She's eating breakfast with Kiri and Mom.”

You lean back in relief, eyes squeezing shut as you wheeze out a sigh.

His hands are on you again, gentle, warm as he takes the towel from your forehead and wipes your face to refresh you.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, hesitantly.

You pause a moment, but then nod.

“Yeah,” you affirm hoarsely. “M'fine.”

Neteyam just stares at you, yellow eyes unblinking and you know this isn't like one of those fleeting moments. He sees you and it makes your gut churn hard.

“I'll be okay here,” you say quietly. “You may have...someone, you know, waiting for you.”

Te'feyra's name is a silent implication and Neteyam doesn't look amused.

“I told them I would look after you until you're fully well,” he counters, wringing the towel into a bowl that sits next to the mound of blankets your rest on.

You fiddle with your fingers, fully disheartened because even in times like these, he remains the diligent leader-in-training that he is.

The air in the tent is think and you can't breathe.

“I'd like some air,” you whisper, crawling from the soft mat to climb to your feet shakily.

“You need to rest,” Neteyam says crossly, seemingly annoyed at your persistence to put as much distance as you can between the two of you.

You don't respond and finally he seems to burst.

“You can't swim and yet you still went after Tuk,” he calls after you like an accusation. “Why?”

You pause.

“Tuk is like a sister to me,” you say quietly. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

You make a move to exit the tent, but Neteyam's voice stops you in your tracks.

“You could have died,” he says quietly, and you can't place the emotion in his voice.

“I'd do it again,” you admit, craning your neck to face him. “I'm not that weak.”

Neteyam's face falls and you duck from the tent.

Neteyam becomes restless after that moment. He loses his focus, agility taking a hit as he hunts one on one with his father.

He goes to shoot another arrow, but Jake stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Neteyam, I know I can be hard on you,” he starts. “But I’m always here.”

“Yes sir,” Neteyam nods.

“Something’s bothering you,” Jake observes. “You’re not yourself. You’re losing focus.”

Neteyam swallows.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, head hanging.

His braids form a curtain around his face and Jake gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Son?”

Neteyam swallows again, head tilting up to look is dad in the face.

“I don’t want to be with Te’feyra,” he admits quietly.

Jake's lips twitch.

“Well I could have told you that,” Jake scoffs, the corner of his lips twitching into a soft smile. “You look about as dead as a washed up fish when she’s around.”

Neteyam recalls the kiss she’d given him nights ago and how he'd internally recoiled, body stiff under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why are you sorry?” Jake prods.

“Because I know Te’feyra is who the clan wants me to be with, who is my most suitable match,” he says. “I just— I don't want to let you down.”

Jake gives him an impish grin.

“Neteyam, let me give you a word of advice. There are things in this world that are suited well for each other; you and Te'feyra are one of those things. But your heart and your mind are the two most powerful things about you,” he says. “You will not be punished for giving into your heart.”

Neteyam thinks of you. He thinks of your face, the lines of your timid smile, the idents that dimple your cheeks. He thinks of your touch when he's wounded, gentle and expert, warm against his skin. He thinks of your voice, airy, soft, a low rasp.

He thinks of when he'd called you weak. Of your face, wounded and hurt. He's stricken in this moment as he realizes that strength doesn't have to be audacious. It can be quiet, small acts that become mighty.

Tuk had told him about the waterfall, how she'd wanted to pull your leg a little. You'd accepted your fate if Ewya deemed it time, you'd even sent the youngest away in the chance you wouldn't surface.

You were far from weak. Your strength ran nearly as deep as the roots of Ewya herself, yet you'd taken the criticism in stride. Let Neteyam paint you as a coward, a pushover with no spine.

“I think there’s someone you need to clear the air with,” Jake says after a few moments of silence. “She should be in her tent.”

Neteyam's hands are clammy. It's been nearly a week since he'd last seen you. You'd reserved to spending time inside of your tent to brush up on your studies and refine your work. He'd catch glimpses of you, but you were used to blending in the background and Neteyam's used to overlooking you.

Was he being presumptuous? Maybe you only admired him as a warrior. Or perhaps it was a duty to the clan to revere him. He feels sick to his stomach thinking of confronting you. But Lo'ak wouldn't try to convince him of his own feelings if it wasn't mutual, would he?

And when had the feelings become mutual? He's recently began to think that perhaps he'd always liked you because you were the only one who didn't actively vie for his affection. Who only saw him as Neteyam, an equal, not Neteyam, the Olo’eyktan's son.

Maybe it was whenever he'd see you wandering in the forest during his hunting trips, murmuring to yourself as you picked herbs and flowers for you studies. Or maybe when he'd spot you still high on the branches of the lofty trees with a tablet of paper and ink. Maybe it was when you'd smile at him shyly when he'd adjust your form during archery and it'd melt his insides. Or when you two were little and he'd plucked flowers for everyone and you were the only one who'd smiled at it sticking out of your satchel.

If he recalls correctly, it's pressed to a scroll hanging in your tent and that alone makes his heart race.

Maybe you two are inevitable and he'd only prolonged it because of his own fears.

“Neteyam!”

Te’feyra steps in his line of sight, standing before him and the hometree that houses your tent. He glances away when she stops in front of him.

“Te’feyra,” he greets cordially.

“I haven't seen you since the incident with ________,” she says. “Are you alright?”

Neteyam nods.

“Never better,” he says simply.

“After dinner we should–”

He spots you, satchel thrown over your shoulder. You glance his way momentarily, but scurry in the direction of your tent when you lock eyes with him.

“If you will excuse me, please,” he says politely, extricating himself from Te’feyra to follow after you.

He catches up to you right outside of your tent.

“________!” he calls.

You freeze almost imperceptibly, but continue on your way, climbing the flattened incline spiraling around the center of the hometree.

“________,” he murmurs, fist closing around your skinny bicep.

You jolt to a stop, golden eyes razor sharp as you glance down at him. Your fist is wrapped tight around the strap of the satchel, knuckles stretched taut.

“Neteyam,” you reply softly. “Yes?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but finds that his tongue weighs heavy behind his lips.

“If you seek help, there are elders available for healing,” you inform him, making a move to remove your arm from his grasp.

He instinctively tightens his grasp and you shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quietly, pulling away. “I just want to speak with you.”

A few beats pass as you blink at him.

“Well?”

“Oh,” he swallows. “Can I come in?”

You turn to face the flap of your tent before craning your long neck over your shoulder to nod.

“Sure,” you agree, holding the hide open to let him in.

You step in after him, table scattered with mixtures of finely-pounded dust, scrolls of research and bundles of materials.

You set your satchel down and begin unloading your finds from you excursion.

Meanwhile, Neteyam paces nervously, trailing the circumference of your tent, eyes flitting every which way to take in every piece of you.

A thick silence envelops you and you clear your throat when the satchel is empty.

“You wanted to talk?” you ask, watching as he stops in front of a scrolled tacked to one of the beams.

It's the pressed flower he'd given to you all that time ago as children. It's central in the room, catching the sun so beautifully and Neteyam uses this as the last bit of courage he needs to continue.

“You kept it,” he says, voice shaky.

“Of course,” you say simply, picking through your different finds. “You gave it to me.”

Neteyam turns, looks you head on and he feels his resolve crumbling.

“You like me,” he says bluntly, afraid that if he beats around the bush, he'll cop out.

“Everyone does,” you deflect.

Neteyam's jaw locks.

“No, ________, you like me,” he repeats.

You feel small, sorting the petals by color, fingers nimble against the soft grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Presumptuous,” you hum, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“________,” he presses.

You bite your lip, tears clouding your vision as your fingers begin to trembling through the sorting. He's being so unfair and he doesn't even know it.

“Why?” you ask shakily.

“What do you mean why?” Neteyam counters, voice taking on the same edge he did with his brother days prior and he'd interrogated him about you.

“Why are you doing this?” you croak, and he hears the tears in your voice.

He's across the floor before you can blink.

“Are you crying?” he asks, shocked.

“Why do you want me to say it so badly?” you choke, poor petals strangled in your vibrating fist. “Is it not enough? To know that I yearn for you silently? That everyone pities me because my heart belongs to someone who's already spoken for?”

Neteyam is stunned.

“I like you, Neteyam. I always have,” you say, voice raw with emotion. “It's my biggest defeat to say I always will. Is that what you want to hear?”

Your eyes are tinged red and his throat feels stuffed with cotton.

“I've always admired you,” you say quietly, between hiccuping breaths. “But I didn’t know you could be so cruel.”

Neteyam winces, every word he’d practiced earlier, completely obliterated from his short term. He knows he should just tell you, tell you that his heart yearns for yours, too. That he'd been too blinded by his impending duty to feel the full effects of what a first love could be like.

“You should go,” you say when he's silent.

You brush your tears away and pat your cheeks dry with the back of your hands as you carefully set the wilted flowers the the edge of the table.

“I–”

“Neteyam, spare me, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he finally says.

Your eyebrows furrow, eyes swollen as you gaze at him unjaded. Who he believed to be so stoic and passive now baring every possible inch to him.

“You're–”

“I don't want to be with Te'feyra,” he finally spits, fists clenched. “I won't be with her.”

Your gaze softens, lips parting to ask what's gotten into him, but he cuts you off.

“You,” he answers firmly, before the question clings in the air. “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

"Stop," you whisper, shaking your head furiously. You take a step away from where he's quickly closing in on you. “Don't–”

He pauses mid-stride and the expression on his handsome face is absolutely devastating. His chest rises and falls shakily and you take a moment to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice it before,” he says desperately, “I was scared and didn't fully realize it, but I do now.”

“That’s unfair,” you hiccup. “This isn't just on your terms. You can’t— you can’t just tell me you like me and expect me to be with you.”

These passing moments are the most he’s ever heard you speak, and he’s afraid that he's severely underestimated you. It doesn’t taste so sweet now that he’s faced with the reality of things.

“You will be the future leader of this clan,” you continue. “That is a great responsibility that you've prepared for your entire life. Who you decide to be with is a permanent fixture that cannot be undone.”

“I know, I know,” he assures you.

“You find it in your heart pity me, Neteyam,” you breathe quietly. “But do you really want to be bonded to someone passive and weak?”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you've squared your shoulders, stomach caving and expanding with a deep breath. You turn to your prior task.

“You should go,” you repeat. “Duty calls.”

“What do you mean you need help?” Kiri asks incredulously, eyes widened at her older brother.

“________,” Neteyam says. “She's icing me out.”

Kiri's face melts in relief and she scoffs a laugh.

“Do you blame her?”

“Kiri!” he pleads.

Kiri stops her movements, falling back on her haunches to meet Neteyam's desperate gaze. It's so unlike him, being uncertain, nervous. He's picked up the habit of fiddling his fingers and Kiri snorts to herself.

“Actions,” she says simply.

“Huh?” he vocalizes.

“Words mean nothing to ________ if your actions don't support them,” she says. “This entire time you've acted so lukewarm towards her. Of course she won't believe you when you decide to acknowledge that you love her.”

Neteyam's throat bobs as he stares down at his sister.

“And how will I do that?” he presses.

Kiri shrugs.

“Not so mighty warrior now, are we?”

As the days progress, you begin to grasp at finally coming to terms with the tattered remains of what's left of you and Neteyam's frayed relationship. Your heart hasn't stonewalled him completely, but the yearning for him has dulled to a slight ache.

His eyes are piercing every moment you share the same vicinity. Kiri would even try to argue you that it's longing, but Neteyam's a slave to his honor and you aren't convinced.

“You should pity the poor boy,” an elder tells you as you cut up ingredients for the evening's dinner.

You pause, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife. You roll your lips together before briefly meeting her gaze, warm under firelight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, clearing your throat.

She laughs, peeling a purple fruit.

“Neteyam,” she says forwardly. “Hasn’t taken his eyes off you in who knows how long. Will you continue to let him suffer?”

You want to argue that it's you who's suffering. That the heart that beats inside the hollow of your ribcage feels like it'll tear in two every time you recall the venom in Neteyam's voice when he'd called you weak.

“I doubt his suffering has anything to do with me,” you say instead. “We are only acquaintances.”

The elder laughs again.

“Is that why he's been pestering the elders for input on how to sway your heart?”

Your head shoots up from where you've focused on the fine cuts of vegetables.

“What?”

“He’s been slacking on his duties, instead poking around the elders and villagers trying to pry information about you,” she says. “Heard him muttering about what kind of flowers you like.”

“It will take more than flowers to sway my heart,” you mumble.

“So you admit that there's something there, hmm?”

Your cheeks heat, caught like a fish in warm waters.

“I–”

“I'd argue that Neteyam’s liked you longer than you've liked him,” the elder says simply.

You bite.

“Why do you say that?”

“He's always asked Eywa for courage, and it seems like she gave you as an answer.”

The elder climbs to her feet, leaving you near the open flame. You open your mouth to call out to her, but the scent of salt and leaves envelops you before you can say anything.

You crane your neck and find Neteyam a few paces from you.

“Do you have a few moments?” he asks politely.

You want to say no, tell him that you'd offered him an infinite amount of moments that he'd spent building bridges between the two of you, but if he's a slave to his honor, you're bound by heart.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, abandoning your task.

He holds his hand out for you to take and your fingers slide across his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Once he secures your hold in his, he tugs you along.

You don't know where he's taking you, or what he could possibly want with your time, but you feel a thousand times more nervous than ever now that the tangled web of your feelings drapes the both of you.

After a few moments of rugged silence, climbing through bushes and brush, he punctures the quiet.

“Are you well?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer after a moment. “You?”

“Truthfully?” he responds, pausing to face you. You realize his hand still engulfs yours. “No.”

“No?” you parrot shakily.

“No,” he affirms. “I've been hurting actually.”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“You should seek help if you have an ongoing–”

“Here,” he says, the hand still caught in his being guided to lay flat against his chest. You can feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage. “It hurts here.”

You swallow, pulling away from his grasp when you realize his insinuation.

“Don’t,” you warn.

He breathes a shaky sigh before taking a step towards you. He's corded muscle and warmth as his palm comes to cradle your jaw. Your bottom lip twitches as you stare up at him.

“It’s always been you,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your chin as his eyes map every curve of your face. “I think I’ve always known it deep down, but...”

Your hand comes up to meet his, gently prying his touch away.

“Neteyam,” you sigh. “Had the last few days unfolded differently, I don't think you'd been saying this now.”

“Maybe not now,” he agrees. “But one day, I would. I know I would. Because when I recall every fond moment, you’re there. No matter how close to the background you get, you’re always there.”

You look skeptical, and Neteyam knows he's losing you. So he digs in the small knapsack he has slung over his broad shoulders and pulls out something thin.

When he holds it up with shaky fingers, your breath catches in your throat. Strung through the taut brown of tree vine is a line of beads identical to the one that he wears on a braid tucked behind his ear. Upon closer inspection, you notice the blue and purple beads formed to create your favorite flowers.

“Wha—”

“Until you decide you want to be mine,” he says, voice trembling nervously as he takes your arm and gently slides the band up until it fits snuggly around your bicep. “So that you remember I'm always yours.”

Your voice is caught in your throat as he brings your fingers up to his lips.

“I won’t push you,” he says when he realizes your words have evaded you. “But I’ll wait for you.”

“Neteyam–”

He simply smiles at you, golden eyes shy as he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. He seems satisfied, triumphant, when you eye the band but make no moves to remove it.

“I’ll wait for you,” he repeats, giving your fingers a squeeze before running off.

“He did what?” Lo’ak shrills a week later.

The younger three Sully's had hunted you down and brought you to the clearing dedicated to archery training.

Slender fingers wrap around your wrist and elbow to turn your arm to examine the band with wide eyes.

You can’t help but smile gently to yourself, watching the way the sun catches the reflection of the pearlescent beads and reflects them brightly.

“I knew that dummy was planning something,” Kiri grumbles. You bite your lip when she meets your gaze. “Well?”

“Well what?” you ask, arm still in Lo’ak’s grasp.

He twists playfully and your laugh glitters in the air.

"Are you going to put my knucklehead brother out of his misery or what?" Kiri hisses, arm drawing to shoot a arrow that stabs the target about a centimeter too left.

Tuk giggles as she runs up to the target to examine the damage.

“Yeah, please do, he's in love and it's disgusting,” Lo'ak grumbles, still eyeing the cuff.

Your heart skips at the mention of love, cheeks going warm when both Kiri and Lo'ak notice how you've gone quiet. They begin laughing, dealing you playful punches.

“Stop that,” you scold, swatting their hands away. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”

“Oh, get real!” Kiri huffs. “You are so in love, you know you'll say yes.”

“Please put me out of my misery,” Lo'ak moans. “I'm tired of being his therapist because he's a little bitch.”

“Lo'ak,” you warn, eyes narrowing.

He giggles and Kiri stifles a laugh as you flounder, cheeks blooming under the siblings' teasing.

“You are both so awful,” you say petulantly, arms crossing one over the other. “How are you so sure I’ll return his feelings?”

It's Kiri's turn to groan, eyes rolling.

“Sure enough that I know if I let you in on a little secret, it'll light a fire under your ass,” she says seriously.

Your spine goes rigid, arms loosening as you wait with bated breath.

“Neteyam may choose you, but if you don’t choose him back quickly enough, someone could swoop in and claw that chance from you,” she shrugs.

Te'feyra's name is an ugly insinuation and something green coils its way into the pit of your stomach as you recall the chaste kiss she'd pressed to Neteyam's lips all those nights ago in the forest.

“Gears turning?” Lo'ak lilts.

They definitely are and suddenly you feel small, digging your big toe into the dirt to drag lines through the forest floor. You nod hesitantly, band suddenly tight around your bicep.

In your ruminating, Lo'ak and Kiri pass a knowing glance.

“Well?” Lo'ak prods.

You fidget, rattling with nerves.

“I suppose...”

Lo'ak sighs and his hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the clearing.

“Where are we going?” you squeak.

“To put everyone out of their misery,” Lo'ak huffs.

The forest seems way more alive than usual, glowing so bright it almost overpowers the sun. Woodsprites gather around as Lo'ak nudges you through the thick foliage and you can't help but think about the sweet smile that curled on Neteyam's lips as he assured you that he was yours. All yours.

The fire crackles in the distance and you know that the morning meal is in the works when voices roar quietly meters away.

Neteyam sits near the center, surrounded by elders and the dreaded girl.

Te'feyra's obliterated every single centimeter of space available, nearly melded to his side as the elders talk animatedly over the two.

You want to turn back, uncertainty vice-like, but Lo'ak squeezes your shoulders as a silent plea. Not even a moment passes before Neteyam peels himself away and begins putting distance between them.

When Te'feyra gives him a curious glance, he gives her an uneasy smile.

“Be courageous, ________,” Lo'ak encourages. “You're one of the strongest people I know.”

With a final pat on the back, he pushes you towards the circle and the sudden movement catches everyone's gaze.

“________,” one of the elders calls fondly.

You smile and bow your head, fingers twitching at your sides.

“Hello,” you greet quietly, eyes swooping hesitantly to Neteyam who rises to his feet, already watching you intently.

That's when you notice it, the choker fastened around his throat. The vine is identical to yours, but it's strung with a line of beads that mirror the ones woven into a singular braid at the nape of your neck.

You hadn't realized that he'd noticed it all this time, but it's the ultimate confirmation that Neteyam sees you. And when he notices that you notice, he smiles softly.

The elders notice as well, drawing the link between your arm band and the necklace that Neteyam wears, now that you two stand opposite each other.

“May I borrow Neteyam for a moment?” you ask politely.

The same elder you prepared with the evening prior gleams a wide smile when Neteyam takes a step towards you, fingers brushing delicately with yours.

Te'feyra remains seated, lips twitching as her gaze flits between the two of you.

“By all means,” one of them says. “Take your time.”

You bow your head again, heart thudding when Neteyam's fingers twine with yours and he lets you drag him out of the circle and deeper into the forest.

When you deem that no prying eyes or ears surround you, you stop, Neteyam bumping softly into your back. The hair on the back of your neck bristle when he makes no moves to extricate himself from you, simply moving your braids from your face to reveal the string of beads tucked near the nape of your neck.

“You needed me?” he whispers, fingers still ghosting the skin of shoulder.

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut as you relish the moment. Your fingers are still locked and for a fleeting second, you pretend that it's always been like this, the two of you.

“I am nothing extraordinary,” you start, and Neteyam's fingertips pause at your elbow.

“I'd argue differently,” he responds.

“I value time alone and I get overwhelmed often,” you continue.

“We all have our moments,” is his rebuttal as the hand covering yours squeezes gently.

You sigh.

“I could—”

Neteyam turns you and you're met with the the choker, beads glinting under the light. Your eyes drag up the column of his strong neck, flit past his soft lips and finally lock with his searing gaze.

“You can try all you want to run me off,” Neteyam laughs quietly, cupping your jaw. “But I'm not scared anymore.”

Your expression is skeptical and Neteyam decides to bite the bullet. He's closing in on you and your heart pounds violently in your chest.

“Neteyam,” you whisper weakly, hand coming up to his chest.

He traps your fingers against his heart, lips slotting between yours before you can protest some more.

It's like the forest comes alive around you, grass tickling between your toes as you melt under his touch and lean up into his mouth.

His hands are everywhere at once, branding your cerulean skin as he kisses you like it's your last moments. There's no hesitation, no feeling it out, just his warm breath and his soft lips as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I'll take you as you are at any moment,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You just have to say you want me back, ________. Please.”

You nod, nose brushing against his as one of his palms splay at the small of your back and the other grabs your chin, pulling you back to plant another burning kiss on your lips.

“Say it,” he begs.

Your eyes begin to mist as you nod again eagerly, parting for a moment to whisper the words.

“I'm yours,” you hoarse, hands on either side of his neck. “I'm yours if you'll be with me.”

Neteyam simply kisses you again, a satisfied hum rumbling from his built chest.

“Fucking finally,” a whisper sounds from the brush.

A LIL' BONUS

“You think they would have figured it out on their own?” Lo'ak asks, wolfing down his food.

Kiri shrugs, feeding Tuk a piece of fruit from her wooden plate.

“Maybe,” she says, unable to suppress her proud grin. “Maybe not. They're both stupid."

“I think so,” Te'feyra laughs watching you and Neteyam fondly from across the fire. “They were a long time coming.”

an – thank you SO much if you've made it this far! again, leave a request or let's chat hehehe. up next is lo'ak so stay tuned! :)

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neng © 2023

[inkedinshadows]

Lazy Mornings

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel really loves to wake up next to you.

Warnings: short mention of sex toward the end

Word count: 701

A/N: look at me, posting another fic already (just a drabble though). I have too much time on my hands lol

Azriel had always been an early riser. As someone who had trouble sleeping, staying in bed once he was awake was nothing more than a waste of time. But both of those things changed when you came into his life, and he got to sleep next to you every night. With you, he would gladly spend all morning lying in bed.

He loved when the first thing he felt upon waking was your body curled up against him, your arm loosely thrown over his chest and your soft breaths caressing his skin. Your hair was usually a mess, and he would run his fingers through your locks, careful not to wake you.

If he awoke to find you had drifted away in your sleep, he wrapped his arms around you and tucked you back against his chest. You merely stirred, curling into his warmth, a content sigh escaping your lips.

Some mornings, he was the one snuggling into you. Lying on his stomach, his wings draped over both of you, he could feel your heartbeat as his head rested on your chest. Your hand was often still tangled in his black curls from where you had been stroking him until you both fell asleep. In those moments, he felt a sense of calm and peace like never before, and something inside him healed a bit more every time you cradled his head and buried your fingers in his hair.

It didn’t matter if he had meetings or appointments. When he woke with his head on your chest, unless it was something of utmost importance that he couldn’t postpone, he wouldn’t move until you woke up on your own. By now, he knew the telltale signs of your awakening—that little groan and the slight twitch of your fingers.

But even just holding you was enough for him. You had laughed at him when he told you he liked to watch you sleep. You said it was creepy and not romantic at all, but he couldn't help it when you looked so innocent, so vulnerable, and peaceful. Besides, he knew you did the same every time his eyes were closed and you thought he was asleep.

Being a heavy sleeper, it always took you a while to fully come to your senses. Watching you open your eyes was one of his favorite moments: a small furrow formed on your brow, and then your half-lidded eyes settled on him and your expression softened, a loving smile appearing on your lips. His heart always swelled at the sight, no matter how many times he had seen it already.

If time was on your side, Azriel was more than content to cuddle until you were ready to rise. When you struggled to fully wake up, or when cuddling caused you to fall asleep again, he got up to make you breakfast. If you still weren't up when he was done, he'd bring it to you on a tray: hot tea with a splash of milk in winter and orange juice in summer, always accompanied by your favorite chocolate pastries and seasonal fruit.

And then there were those mornings when the cuddles led to more heated kisses and before you knew it, you were both naked. Making love to you in the early hours was another of Azriel's favorite activities. It took you longer than usual to reach your first climax, but he didn’t mind, because it gave him a reason to spend even more time between your legs. He would coax it from you with his mouth and fingers, and only then would he sheath himself inside you and you would have slow, gentle sex, filled with soft caresses, tiny kisses, and whispered promises of love.

The days when you could spend hours just lying in bed, simply enjoying each other’s company, were few and far between, and Azriel cherished every single one of them. It wasn’t something he had ever done before, and if someone had told him he would one day grow to love it, he probably wouldn’t have believed them.

Yes, Azriel had always been an early riser. But you had changed that, just like you had changed his life for the better.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette

[esthercore]

Genshin Men & Their cum ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

The 3 am horny strikes again | HSR Version

Albedo - Oh, quite controversial if I may. It's a bit chalky, not in taste, taste is just fine but in texture. A bit grainy, with a consistency on the thinner side. Even the color is bit too translucent. Definitely something that take to time to grow on your, if you're picky with textures like me. Maybe try and compare his cum with his clone's for scientific purposes...

Al Haitham - It's...cum flavored, but the taste is a bit amplified, strong. And it's thick and globby too. The scholar isn't a big fan of jerking off, since it's too much work and too unproductive, so full balls just for you <3

Ayato - The taste is quite pleasant, fresh, and smooth in texture. It falls in the can't complain category, it isn't the best, but there is also no bad features, though the quantity is a bit low due to constant work stress.

Baizhu - Same as blade, his body is working overtime, and his health is fucked, it's very thin, but don't tell him, it break his poor heart.

Childe - Thick thick, really like seeing you struggle to swallow his load, patting your head as you choke a bit. It takes just fine, though leans a bit on the bitter side.

Diluc - Sweet and delicious! Grape fruit really do wonders, he easily top in the taste specter. The consistency is average not to thick or thin, and quite a pleasurable amount. Nice and warm, thick gooey cum.

Itto - The taste is slightly addictive, and metallic. Also has some thick globs. It's quite distinguishable if you ask me. Perhaps a hit or miss for some people, but you should definitely give it a taste, especially for that shy grin he pulls, quite pleased with your actions.

Kazuha - He has the a healthy amount globs in between, the taste, the texture, the amount all are satisying. Especially the way he refuses to look you in the eyes, getting all shy after you swallow.

Kaeya - The most amount in Tevyat, and the best texture, and he sure as hell knows it. Gets so smug at your cock drunk face, a bit of his cum dripping down your neck, a bit spilled on the

Neuvilette - Fresh, like water from a mountain lake, very cold too, so good on a hot summer evening. Plus this man is a 500 year old virgin so you get a glorious amount. The only downise is the consistendy running on a bit thinner side.

Thoma - It's cum, plane, basic, average everything. Unless you're talking about his flustered expression, as you lap up his cum, that's a solid 10/10

Wriothesley - Another one that likes to see you choke trying to swallow, he loves the humiliating aspect, calling you names while tenderly petting you. His cum itself is pretty normal but makes up with the foreplay. Loves bukkakke.

Zhongli - Thick and creamy, taste sweet too! He gets so shy when you swallow, he's to old and modest for this, so grandpa's pulse immediately go haywire.

Bonus!!!

Dottore - Thick and the amount is in excess. He's so perverse during the foreplay, intentionally making sure to drench you, making you open your mouth and inspect it after you swallowed, and making you lick the cum you spilled on the floor

Capitano - The best overall in Tevyat, thickest, most yummy, the most amount, yet he's modest regarding everything. He simply likes you doing your own stuff, and indugle yourself in him. Will pet your head when you swallow, happy you're enjoying yourself. Maybe give you some sweet pecks if you tell him, his cum is the best.

(Reminder, Genshin is a fictional game, hence the unrealistic descriptons. If i missed any of your favs, which i probably did, just tell me and i do a part 2.)

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #5 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been an entire month since your argument with Toji. Neither of you had said a word to each other, not even when he comes to pick up or drop off the kids. He keeps his distance, not bothering to wait by the door with them, instead he waits on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to them when you open the door. It seems like the kids haven’t took notice of the hostility between you and your ex husband and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to witness anymore than they already have. Occasionally, Naya asks if she can go over Toji’s more often, growing an attachment to her father, but you always have to explain to her that he’s busy working during the week. It breaks your heart knowing that your children aren’t growing up with a fully family. You know deep down, they question why they have to go back and forth between houses just to see their father, or wondering why their mommy and daddy aren’t together like the other kids. But knowing how young they are, they wouldn’t understand a single thing. Hopefully when they’re older, they’ll learn from the mistakes you and Toji have made.

You and Nanami have been going strong recently, finding that he makes you forget about the hardships in your life. He hasn’t met the kids yet, which you don’t plan on letting happen anytime soon. He’s a nice guy, great intentions, but you want to take things slow before overstepping your own boundaries. He has took you out on two more dates ever since the first one, and each time he impresses you more and more. It feels like you can be open with him, comfortable without getting judged. He’s also a great listener, not saying a word and just letting you vent all of your feelings out until you feel better. He puts a smile on your face when he knows you’re feeling down or thinking about something that stresses you out. And most of all, he doesn’t mention what happened that morning when Toji showed up at your house. You know he heard most of everything and it was embarrassing to say the least. Toji embarrassed you.

“Mommy, can I go see daddy?” You daughter tapped your leg as you were cutting up her and megumi some fruit to snack on.

You looked down at her with a soft smile. “Tomorrow, baby. You’re gonna see him tomorrow.” You popped a raspberry in her mouth, her favorite fruit.

“Dad’s been drinking a lot.” Megumi walked into the kitchen, stealing a piece of pineapple off of the cutting board.

“What do you mean?” You immediately question, placing the knife down.

“Beer. He gets uncle Gojo to buy it for him and drinks a whole bunch,” he explained. Your lips pursed together, inhaling deeply before you let out a frustrated sigh. You shook your head in disappointment, trying not to show the anger flowing through you right now.

“So can we go see him? I’m worried!” You daughter batted her eyelashes at you, a small frown on her face. No wonder she’s been asking to see Toji so much, it all makes sense now.

“How about you guys call him to say goodnight, mommy isn’t driving right now. Plus, it’s late.” You picked up the knife, cutting more pineapple into smaller chunks.

“Please! Please! Please, mommy!” You daughter grabbed onto the hem of your shirt, nearly ripping it off of you with the way she was begging.

“Naya, cut it out! Mom said no!” Megumi slightly raised his voice, an annoyed look on his face.

“I wasn’t asking you, dummy!” Her brows furrowed in anger, her gaze now on her brothers.

“Shut up, idiot!” Megumi shouted back.

“Aye! Cut the shit!” You warned, sharing looks between both of them. Naya huffed, stomping her little feet over to the living room. “I don’t need you guys calling each other names, alright? Naya, I said no, and that means no. And Megs, stop being mean.”

“She called me it first!” He exclaimed.

“I don’t care who did it first! I don’t need y’all fighting. Naya, come here!” You shouted from the kitchen. “Eh, stay here.” You pointed at Megumi when he tried to walk away. He let out an annoyed sigh leaning against the counter. “Naya!” She turned the corner with a frown on her face, eyes watery as she looked up at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” As soon as you asked her that question she burst into tears. Before you could even place the knife down, Megumi picked her up and held her in his arms while she cried.

“Ny-ny, what’s wrong? I’m sorry I called you an idiot, okay? I was mad, but I shouldn’t have said that,” he said softly, rubbing her back as she cried on his shoulder. The little girl hiccuped softly, wrapping her arms around her brothers neck tightly. “Do you wanna tell mommy what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her. He brought his hand up to her face, wiping the tears.

“Da…daddy!” She sobbed, trying to catch her breath. “I wanna see…daddy!” Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she laid her head back on her brothers shoulder. Megumi turned to look at you, and you could see that he was also worried about his father, even if he wasn’t as vocal as it. “Mommy!” She cried.

You reached your hands out, picking her up from Megumi and holding her to your chest. “You really wanna see daddy?” You asked, wiping off her tears with your shirt. She nodded, still whimpering and sniffling. She rubbed her puffy eyes, little fists holding onto the fabric of your shirt. “Okay, we’ll go see daddy then. Megs, put your shoes on.���

You held Naya’s hand as you walked up the steps with them. She had a little smile on her face, excited to all hell to see her father. Megumi rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with you in the cold. “You excited, huh?” You chuckled, looking down at your daughter.

“Who is it?” Toji’s deep voice spoke from the other side of the door.

“Dad, it’s us!” Megumi answered. You were a little nervous to see him, knowing that this was going to be an unexpected surprise, but you had a very valid reason for showing up here. Toji unlocked the door, confusion written all over his face when he seen you and his two kids standing outside in the cold. He barely had time to register the situation before Naya ran over to him and hugged him.

“Daddy!” She yelled followed by a giggle.

“Hey, peanut!” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, sitting her on his hip and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What’re doing here so early, huh?” He asked with a smile.

“She’s been asking about you all day…all week actually,” you spoke. “She started crying cause she missed you so much, so I brought her over here,” you explained.

Naya fiddled with her dads lip scar, as Toji stood there and stared at you for a few minutes. It’s like he almost forgot how you sounded, it’s been so long. “Well, uh, would you like to come in or are you just dropping them off?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I’ll come in.” The only reason you accepted was because you wanted to speak to him about his drinking problem that Megumi suddenly brought up.

“Hi, buddy.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair, giving him a kiss on top of his head. He closed the door behind you, your eyes immediately taking notice of the four beer cans that sat on his coffee table. A rush of disappointment came washing over you as you continued to stare at them. “Don’t mind the mess,” he awkwardly chuckled, quickly trying to clean up as he sat Naya down on the couch.

You stuffed your hands in your coat pocket, standing in the middle of the living room as he grabbed the cans and quickly took them into the kitchen. “I told you,” Megumi whispered. Toji walked back into the living room, looking at you.

“So, uh, she was crying you said?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “she…she was like full on sobbing for you. Scared me shitless at first if I’m being honest.”

“Ny-ny, you can’t be scaring mommy like that.” Toji walked over, pinching her cheeks until she giggled. You watched the scene in front of you, seeing the smile on your daughter’s face when she was with Toji made your heart swell. “If you want, I can take them early, and come pick up their stuff tomorrow. You look…tired.”

You shrugged. “Just a little. It’s been a long week.” Toji nodded in agreement, standing back up right as all you stood there in silence while the two kids watched whatever was on the tv. “Toji, can I speak with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s up?” He asked.

“In private.” You stared at him.

“Um, yeah. Megs, Ny, stay here, okay? Watch whatever you wanna watch.” He smiled at them.

“Megs, can we watch The Incredibles again?” Naya clung to her brothers arm as he grabbed the remote.

You followed Toji down the hallway to his bedroom. “How have you been?” You asked, shutting the door behind you.

“Me? I’ve been fine. How are you?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your eyes were locked onto him as you stood there by the door. Toji had a confused expression on his face. “Something wrong?”

“How have you been, Toji?” This time you asked with more sternly, clenching your jaw.

“I don’t get…I don’t get it.” He looked around the room as if he was being pranked, awkwardly rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Megs told me about your drinking problem. You got Gojo going out and buying beer for you all the time? Getting drunk when the kids are here?! I can smell it on your breath!” You yelled in a whisper, folding your arms across your chest.

“I only drink enough to get tipsy, okay? I wouldn’t get drunk around the kids, y/n,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.

You scoff, “like that makes it any better. Naya keeps asking about you because she’s worried, crying her eyes out because of it, because she misses you. Megumi doesn’t say a word about how he feels, but I can tell he’s scared, Toji. You had four beers on the fucking coffee table when I walked in!” You exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m dealing with shit, y/n.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor.

“We are all dealing with shit, Toji, but you gotta be there for our kids! I’m not here to argue with you, okay? I just want to know what is going on. The kids want to know what’s going on.” You looked at him with concern as he avoided your gaze completely, head still hung low.

“I can’t say it.” Toji looked up, finally locking eyes with you.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because it won’t matter, y/n. I’ve made mistakes, and I’m dealing with them. That’s all there is to it.” He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes.

Your expression softened. There was no need for Toji to explain what he was talking about because you already knew. He was talking about you guys, your relationship, your marriage, your family. “It wasn’t just you, Toji,” you spoke softly. “It was me too. We grew apart. It happens.”

He shook his head. “You were only acting that way because of how I was treating you. It’s not your fault so don’t say it was, please. I’m the one who fucked it up. Back then I fucked it up, and now I’m fucking it up. Every time I got something good going on I find a way to ruin it.”

“Toji…” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He stood up from his spot on the bed and walked towards you, his muscular and tall frame trapping you against the door. “I’m sorry. I miss you, I miss what we had, mama. You gotta understand me.” He cupped your face in his hands.

“No, no, don’t do that.” You shook your head, removing his hands from you.

“Do what, mama?” He asked softly.

“That, Toji.” You kept shaking your head at him. “I can’t. We can’t.”

“Why not? Hm?” He tried to catch your eye.

“I’m with someone else,” you bluntly said. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, almost deafening in your ears as you stood there against the door. There was nothing but silence from Toji. He took a step back from you.

“Is it him?” Toji asked. All you did was nod. He scoffed. “So y’all are really together?”

“Yeah, we are,” you answered. “He treats me good, makes me happy.”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” Toji questioned.

“I didn’t say that!” You looked at him in disbelief.

“That’s not what you said the last time we spoke to each other. What you said fucking hurt me. You hate me. You wish you never married me. Remember that?” Toji cocked his head to the side.

“I was upset, Toji.” You rolled your eyes.

“You just don’t say shit like that, y/n. Never once in our entire relationship together have I said some shit like that to you.” He stood there, waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! I came here because Naya was worried about you and Megumi told me about your drinking problem. That’s all I came to talk about! I didn’t come to talk about what we had going on, okay? So just fucking drop it. I’m happier, I’m better. I’m getting treated the way I deserve to be treated for the first time in my life." You snapped.

“For the first time in your life? Are you hearing how you sound right now? I know I wasnt perfect, but I did everything I could to make you happy. Yes, there were some things I could’ve done better, but I loved you like you were supposed to be loved. Why else would I marry you?” Toji walked towards you again.

“Then you should’ve showed that love. Just know I’ll be better without you.” You opened the bedroom door, walking down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Toji shouted. He followed after you as you ignored him. “Y/n!” He shouted again.

“Stop following me, Toji! I’m leaving!” You screamed.

Megumi and Naya looked over at both of you, seeing you two yelling. “I’m not done talking to you!” Toji grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Well, I am!” You snatched your arm back from him.

“Stop it!” Megumi yelled, covering his little sisters ears.

You and Toji looked over at the kids sitting on the couch, Naya’s eyes watery, lip wobbly as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Megumi shared looks between both of you, concern and fear written on his face. “Come on, let’s go back home. You’ll see daddy tomorrow.”

“I wanna stay!” Naya pouted.

“Naya, please, get in the car.” You sighed in frustration, grabbing her hand.

“No! No!” She started screaming, dropping to the floor and kicking around, throwing a tantrum.

“Get up, Naya! I’m not gonna ask you again!” You lifted her off of the floor, grabbing her hand again. She pulled away from you, running over to Toji, hugging his legs.

“Fine. Fine. Stay with your father. I’ll see both of you in a few days. I love you.” You grabbed your keys from your coat pocket, walking to the front door, slamming it shut behind you.

“Come here, baby girl.” Toji picked his daughter up.

“You two always fight! I hate it!” Megumi stormed out of the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, making Naya jump. Toji stood there in the living room with his daughter, a lump forming in his throat. He let out a choked sob, immediately hiding his face from his daughter.

“Daddy, don’t cry.” She wiped his tears away.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He sniffled. Your family was falling apart right in front of Toji’s eyes. Megumi is looking for a way out of this family at such a young age, indulging in video games and tv to drown out the real problems. Naya conflicted with her feelings, crying constantly because of the state both of you were in, affecting her. Nothing is like it was before. Toji hated this was happening. This is was last thing he ever wanted.

You sat in your car outside of his house, wiping your tears from how overwhelmed you were. You were at a loss on how to fix this. Each time you tried, it ended the same. You were fearful it was going to keep getting worse, worse until there was no way to reverse the damage done.

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[ivesambrose]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 🥂

1. 2. 3.

Do I dare ask how 2023 has been for y'all?

Pick the image you feel the most pull towards or have been seeing around you a lot, if you feel drawn towards multiple, so be it. 🤍

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at Ivesambrose@gmail.com

Personal services

Winter Specials

Thank you for the tip 🌹

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 1

Your central theme is rising from the ashes. You're in the process of the most intense metamorphosis yet. A new dawn, a new day, a new life.

You'll feel empowered, passionate and obsessive about your pursuits. You'll allow the old skin to be ripped off of you and you'll no longer be scared to be you.

This year brings you connections, admires, collaborations, unions both in personal and proffesional life.

There's a certain duality in you that you haven't explored yet, but you will in the coming months.

You'll have good health for the most part compared to the previous year. Your family will be taken care of. The hope and assurance you may have lacked from them will come through. It will feel warm and refreshing. (Goes for chosen family too)

Romantically, you may be focused on your career or just living your life a lot. But someone might want to build a legacy or long term relationship with you.

If you're already coupled, the focus goes to building what you have and looking after domestic affairs and see things bloom.

Proffesionally, you will have your most successful and blessed year. Money shouldn't be a problem and even if it seems like it, your needs will always be met and you'll still have more.

Some of you might enjoy ghe fruits of your labour extensively. This goes for the ones who work solo or run their own business etc

Academically, you might feel a bit disinterested. Might move out from your home or change subjects. Take up something completely new. Might face your fears and push through but make it a point to follow your inner calling for the most part.

Themes centered around relationships and partnerships are significant this year as well opportunities coming out of the blue that call you to heed your intuition and step out of your comfort zone or limiting mindsets, that will inevitably lead to travel, progress and new experiences.

Make the best of this year, it'll feel like you're finally on the journey you've been preparing yourself for all this time.

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 2

Your central theme is using your emotions as your guiding force, using it as fuel and not seeing it as weakness. Quieting your mind so you can listen to your instincts more. Healing from things you don't speak of, that you've felt have persistently held you back from your potential and finally taking the lead. You'll feel like the main character in your life finally, instead of seeing everything through the lens of a side character no one remembers.

You'll feel motivated to follow what makes your heart happy. You may be faced with choices a lot this year, a lot of this or that in several aspects of your life. Trust yourself to make the right decisions.

You'll be learning about your mind and body this year, so incase you go through ups and downs in your health you'll be able to manage it but also guide others too.

Romantically, you might as well get your happy ending. I see that you're mostly focused on the complete picture. Not bothered with what is going on in between too much. So you'll get what you're manifesting eitherway.

Proffesionally, a rebirth or evolution will take place. Something new that will grow overtime. You'll be driven about it. So success will be imminent.

Success in academics as well, feeling proud of your achievements.

Themes around revolution, personal development, healing generational trauma, humanitarism, technology as well being open to the unknown will also be prevalent this year.

Learn to make amends and embrace the breakthroughs this year has to offer you.

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 3

Your central theme is related to wealth, inheritance, change of lifestyle, receiving help, building a legacy and feeling more secure. Some of you will see a success or change they did not see coming, it was hidden for the longest time.

Some of you may even be leaving poverty behind for a more financially secure life.

You'll find yourself blooming, physically especially. A glow up in your looks and quality of being is going to be imminent. Focus on health, beauty, food, routine etc as well. A lot of you will be experiencing vivid dreams, strange synchronicities etc too will be learning about esoteric subjects, occult or the subconscious mind a lot. You'll also be receiving success and recognition or you might be building your steps towards it that will eventually pay off in the long run.

You'll feel like this old self or image of you has died. You may even mourn it for some time but will feel more powerful, confident and self assured once you're past that.

Romantically, you'll be feeling desirable and might attract a lot of suitors. Your self concept will improve exponentially, so will your standards. So nothing less than what you want. Your intuition will be at all time high. Fear no one and nothing. Some of you might also be moving to a new house too or might end up owning something in your name.

Proffesionally, although you might deal with competition you won't be too worried. You know your skills, you'll have your resources, your work will speak for it self and you will stand out.

Friendship, community, discoveries and gains are also some of the themes surrounding you this year.

Let your imagination create for you. You'll soon realize there's so much power in allowing yourself to receive what you desire by simply being instead of doing too much.

[darthfighter]

your shadow

Part One of Your Shadow series

warnings: some violence & immense tension !!! not too many warnings for this chapter

summary: as you attempt to run away from your past, it seems as though a presence brings the past back at your door.

word count: 1.7k

authors note: the qimir brainrot is so real i decided to publicly post my first ever fic since there is a drought of them for this man. so hopefully you guys like this :’) i plan to make another part to this series soon!! so be on the look out <3

part two here

Olega was supposed to be an escape. A way out. This was supposed to be a safe haven from your suffocating life you had run away from. You were constantly on the run. Finding nothing but remembrance of your past everywhere you settled. There was never a break, just a faint breath at the back of your neck whispering a hot memory of what you try to forget.

Today you thought- a simple task should be all that I tackle today. You didn't want something to weigh you down your shoulders every time you stepped outside as it usually does. But you thought a simple grocery run would be enough.

You walked through the streets of Olega. Vendors left and right. Smells that were salivating to sense here or strong rancid smells that clearly physically took on your appearance there. Fruits here and skinned animals you couldn't name there. It was definitely overwhelming, which in this case you were thankful for. You needed something off of your mind. Finally, you made your way to the vendor selling meiloorun fruit. You grabbed three and put it inside your basket, then gave enough credits to the seller.

The feeling of the fruit under your touch brought you back. Your eyes stung at your defeat. You remembered. The hot days on your homeplanet. Where you and your older brother would play outside in the hot forsaken heat, and your mother would juice her meiloorun fruit that awaited you both when you were done playing. The drink has forever been a comfort to you. Feeling as though, swallowing the juice healed your insides. Physically and mentally.

As you are deep in thought strolling along the street, you bump into a person. But before your fruit can fall out of your basket, you and the person catch the two fruit that flew out, into both of your own hands. Together, frozen in place, you both look at each other. Immediately there is a smile onto your face as the situation is quite funny in itself. As for the person, or now you know as you look at them, the man, is puzzled. He has a face of concentration. Like he is trying to read you. The expression on his face drops your heart to the floor instead. You pick yourself up in front of him and force your shoulders straight, as you were taught.

"I'm sorry about that, that was my fault." You apologize. Although in your head your voice was louder than when it actually came out your throat. You felt small at this moment. And indeed you were.

The man in front of you was covered in sheets of cloth like a robe, with straight black hair with strands in front of his face, and tall. He towered over you. The intimidation was seeping out through your stance. He says no words to your apology. No "It's okay" or "It was my fault." Just dark orbs staring into your apologetic eyes.

"Okay." You mumble, "Sorry, again." You turn your heel as quick as you caught the fruit and start to walk away, until.

"I think you're forgetting something!" He spoke. For the first time.

You turn around to see him still holding the fruit in his hand, that he didn't put in your basket. Embarrassment washes over you and you can feel your ears grow hot. You walk towards him to grab the fruit out of his hand with a shy smile planted on your face, but instead he still locks eyes with you as he drops the fruit into your basket himself. Leaving your hand in the air still.

"You new around here?" The man asked

Your hand is still in the air, you put it down before you answer. "Yes." you replied shortly, feeling the sting of embarrassment continue to course through your body.

He nods in return.

There is an awkward silence between the two of you. Although it feels as though his presence is something you've felt before. Something you recognize. It seems like the two of you sense it, but say nothing.

"I gotta get going. Again, sorry about that."

He says nothing again, just shakes his head up and down with a smirk plastered on his face. He moves to the side swiftly, and bows his head down as a signal of goodbye.

You start to walk away, but the farther you get away from him, the more you realize you have been holding your breath more than you thought. Heavy inhales and exhales left you as you left yourself.

-

When you had made it home, the man's presence lingered behind you like a shadow. You drank your childhood drink still wondering why he stuck to your thoughts. It started to frustrate you to the point you felt the fire in your throat, so you decided to sleep it off. To hopefully wake up in the morning with the encounter faded from your mind.

Hours had passed in your bed and your body sunk into the blankets. Your room was dim with a shadow casting through your blinds from the moons in the sky. Deep in sleep, your hand twitches. You felt something. Something there. With you. It brought you out of your slumber to only wake up to a dark tall silhouette inside your room with you.

The tightness in your chest from fear became so overwhelming you felt frozen. Your elbows rested from the jolt of you waking up, and lifted as the silhouette took a step towards you. The soles of your feet met the cold floor, and force dashed outside your room.

It was the first time you force dashed in years. You thanked Maker that you still knew how to do so. Your heart galloped against your chest as you stood inside your living room.

Waiting for their next move. That move being your bedroom casting a red glow. Ever so slowly, did the stranger walk outside your room beside the red lightsaber in their hand.

A Jedi? You thought. But demolished the idea of it as quickly as it came. Jedi don't attack the unarmed.

Your lightsaber. You knew where it was at. It laid in its case above your bathroom ceiling. You just needed to get past the stranger into the bathroom behind them. Your force dash is the only option that seemed to have the best survival against them. Your heel lifts against the floor and you speed past them in a blink of an eye, but you feel the swift of heat from their lightsaber right behind you. Luckily they miss you, barely. You close and lock the bathroom door. Although you know damn well that wont hold forever.

"And where were you.. all this time."

The modulated voice behind the door sends chills down your spine. You step on top of your toilet to grab a hold of the box above you. Finally, after years of never opening this box again, you take your lightsaber out and light it.

The stranger force pulls the door from their side, leaving you revealed.

You use the stance the Jedi have taught you. Whereas the stranger still lays their lightsaber down to their side while yours rests against your face leaving the purple hue against your complexion.

They stand in front of you, unmoving. You feel the intimidation radiate off yourself, and you decide to do something about it. You strike them and sway your lightsaber towards them. Only for them to block it immediately making both of your lightsabers clash together making a bright white shine as you two clash.

Both of you dance together. Moving both of your feet in sync, both going in a circle. Now their back is facing the bathroom you came out of.

Now this time, they strike. You block and force push them away from you, but it barely does anything. It could either be the fact you haven't used the force in so long. Making you weaker than before. Or the fact they could be more powerful than you thought. In this case, it's both.

You begin to feel your exhaustion take over. Your stamina on using the force is taking a toll on you. You internally curse to yourself in this moment knowing you need to survive. Feeling nothing but failure for all that you were taught, all gone to waste.

Purple and red bounce off of each other in the room. Red comes forward and they charge at you once more. You block with all your energy and the two of you clash together repeatedly making the loud sounds of the lightsabers hurt to listen to. You flinch at the sound, making you weak. Your durability has faded, and you feel disappointment for all that you are.

Your chest heaves up and down from exhaustion, while the stranger stays completely composed. If anything, it fueled you with the anger you needed in this moment. You were revisited with the exact thing you were trying to run from. Feeling as though you fell off of the cliff you tried so hard to climb and rest at. Now, just bruised and wounded.

This time, you strike them and of course they block immediately. The two of you keep your lightsabers against each other in place this time. Sparks of the lightsabers flicker through the air. You look at the helmet before you. Cracks rest on their helmet making you finally take in their appearance. Although there is something of the presence before you that flows through your veins. It feels electrifying, in a way that doesn't resemble the fear you've felt this whole encounter. It's something curious. A curious feeling. The stranger sways their wrist to push your lightsaber away from you, only to push their blade to your arm.

Air escapes your lungs for a few seconds from the pain. You look down to your arm to see that there is a red flame latched onto the cloth of your shirt, with a tear showing your now burnt skin before you. You take a few steps back, swallowing your winces of pain to only look up to see the stranger gone.

Your home became empty with nothing but the sound of your lightsaber humming through the air.

read part two here !

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: I did my own thing with regard to this request as well as tried a different style of writing. I wanted to implement him being sweet and gentle as he stalked you. But idk if I really did that. This was fun to write though, and my requests are once again open so please send me something. I hope y'all enjoy it so please don't be shy and comment or reblog with your opinions because I would love to hear them - ju <3

wc: 9k (what if I told y'all I wrote this all in less than one day with sleep.)

pairing:morethankinda stalker!Felix x afab!reader

DNI if you are uncomfortable with reader giving in kind of easily. This is meant to be a stalker fic, so if you feel uncomfortable, please do not interact. I made this more dubcon because reader does give her consent, but I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable!

warnings: porn WITH a plot (like 2.5k words of smut...), kinda Stockholm syndrome, oral!fem receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, panty sniffing, edging, idk what else!

“Who orders pineapple juice at a coffee shop?” you giggled looking at Felix as he started making an ice americano for the next customer in line. 

"Someone who doesn't want caffeine and enjoys the taste of tropical fruit, I guess." 

"Or a weirdo!" you giggled before calling out the drink for Christopher.

He chuckled along with you, enjoying the banter. His eyes watched you closely as you called out the drink, taking in every detail of your movements.

"Hey, weird can be good sometimes. Adds some spice to life, right?"

"Yeah, as long as they aren't creepy. My best friend's ex used to follow her after they broke up, even texting her from new phone numbers" You frowned before working on your next drink. 

He nodded, a frown of feigned concern on his face. 

In truth, he found himself growing more fascinated with you the more you talked. He only applied for the job to get closer to you.

The first time Felix came into “The View” he saw you smiling ever so brightly, giving this little girl a free cup of hot chocolate. From that moment on, he knew he had to get to know you, no matter the cost. 

He bribed the hiring manager with a batch of his homemade brownies. In exchange for a job, he had to make at least one batch a day. He didn’t mind working overtime, as long as he was close to you. 

He snapped out of his thoughts, finally responding to you. "That's horrible. No one deserves to be stalked like that. I hope she's doing better now."

"She is, she was really straight with him after the second time, and he stopped which is good, but sometimes I feel like I'm being watched. I don’t know how to explain it, but especially when my shift ends whenever we are working together. Maybe it's just in my head" you sighed before calling out for the next customer.

He tried to act nonchalant, but his mind was racing. Was he that obvious? Was he being too creepy? 

"I hope it's just in your head," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixated on you as you called out to the next customer, trying to look away before you noticed him practically staring.

"Yeah, me too. Who knows, maybe I'm just being delusional," you sighed, too caught up in your own world, thinking about the late-night fear of constantly being watched. You were so distracted that you didn't even realize you had almost gripped the machine's steam frother with your bare hand.

His eyes widened as he noticed your hand grasping for the frother without a cloth. He quickly reached out to stop you, grabbing your hand gently but firmly, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Hey, watch out, you'll burn yourself!"

"Oh shit, thanks Lixie, I don’t know what I would do without you" you muttered, snapping yourself out of it and getting back to the drink at hand. 

He held onto your hand for a moment longer, enjoying the feel of your skin. He reluctantly let go and smiled at you, trying to act casual. "Lixie," the nickname rolled off your tongue, making his heart flutter. "No problem, just don't want you hurting yourself, you know?"

"I got it, I was just too in my head. I wish there was someone I could walk home with so I would no longer feel so terrified" you sighed, making sure there were no other orders to be completed before ranting away to Felix.

His heart skipped a beat as you confessed your desire to have someone walk you home. He saw his chance and took it. He pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating something before speaking. 

"You know, I don't mind walking you home after our shift ends. If it makes you feel safer."

"You would do that for me?" you asked excitedly, thankful for him. 

He nodded quickly, his smile growing wider. He had to control himself not to seem too eager. This is his chance to be closer to you. 

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's the least I can do. I don't want you to be scared walking home alone at night."

"Thank you so much Lixie!" you grinned, watching the way he reciprocated your smile. His freckles shine extra bright.

He chuckled softly as you thanked him, his heart-warming as you called him “Lixie”. He found himself smiling more than usual, enjoying the way the nickname sounded coming from your lips.

"No problem, really. It’ll be nice to have some company on the walk home too”.

"I hope it's not out of your way though, I don't even know where you live" you pouted, unsure if letting him walk you home would cause him too much trouble.

He chuckled, seeing your pout and finding it adorable. He reassured you with a wave of his hand. 

"Don't worry about it, it's not out of my way at all. And if it was, I wouldn't mind." 

In truth, he was willing to walk the extra mile (literally) to be able to spend a few more moments with you.

"Are you a hundred percent sure?" too scared that you were inconveniencing him due to your paranoia. 

He nodded, his expression gentle and sincere as he looked into your eyes.

 "I'm absolutely sure. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it. I want you to feel safe, and if walking you home is what it takes, then I'm more than happy to do so."

He smiled, feeling a twinge of guilt about his actual motives, but pushing it away. All that mattered to him was being close to you. He took another glance at his watch, noticing that it was almost time to clock out. 

"Actually, our shift is almost done. Ready to head out?"

"We have to make a batch of brownies first though?"  

You looked at him a bit puzzled, not understanding that it was his eagerness that was causing him to forget all about his obligation.  You just chalked it off to him always being a bit forgetful since you became friends with him.

It was a common occurrence, whether it be forgetting to add mocha to a drink or a whole batch of cookies in the oven, Felix always seemed to be just a tad distracted. 

He mentally slapped himself for being so caught up in the moment that he forgot about the brownies. He tried to play it cool. "Right right, I almost forgot about that." 

He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We do that first, then close shop."

"Let's get to it then!" you giggled, walking to the front and locking it, turning over the kitten 'Open!' sign that your manager Lee Know had bought before rushing back towards him following him into the cafe's kitchen. 

He followed you into the kitchen, his heart fluttering as he listened to your giggles. Once in the kitchen, he quickly gathered the ingredients for the brownies, setting them on the workbench. 

"Okay, I'll start getting everything measured. Can you preheat the oven?"

“You got it Lix!” you replied back, quickly preheating the oven to 350. 

He smiled at your reply, feeling more and more relaxed in your presence. As he started measuring out the ingredients, he occasionally glanced at you, watching as you preheated the oven. He found himself mesmerized by your every little movement.

"Isn't that too much chocolate Lix?" you asked looking at the bowl that he usually double-broiled the chocolate in.

He glanced down at the bowl, realizing he had indeed put in almost too much chocolate. 

"Oh, right... maybe I got a bit carried away there." He chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks as he began to measure out a more appropriate amount of chocolate.

"I mean you can never have too much chocolate!" you grinned before eating the excess piece he had taken out, popping it into your mouth. 

He couldn't help but laugh when you ate the excess piece of chocolate, finding your antics adorable. His eyes lingered on your lips as you popped it into your mouth, silently wishing he could be the one feeding you the chocolate.

"You're right, but we still need some chocolate left for the brownies," he joked, his smile widening.

With a playful nudge, he continued measuring the correct amount of chocolate, his gaze flicking back to you. 

"But hey, maybe I could save a few extra pieces for us for some late-night chocolate indulgence, just between you and me."

"I like the way you think Lee Felix" 

You fed him a piece whilst taking another one for yourself, savoring the sweet taste of Hershey’s chocolate. Since you’ve begun helping him bake his brownies, he’s always been adamant about only using Hershey.

His heart skipped a beat as you fed him the piece of chocolate, the sweetness of it almost as sweet as the feeling of your touch. He felt a warm rush of pleasure run through him as he took the chocolate from your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"I do have some good ideas every now and then," he replied, his voice soft and a hint of a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

You continued to help Felix with both the measuring and mixing, not trusting the stand mixer seeing as you didn't want to incorporate too much gluten into the brownies themselves. The two of you laughed away as you finished mixing and pouring the batter into their respective pans.

After the two of you finished pouring the batter into the pans and setting them in the oven, Felix couldn't help but stare at you as you both laughed together about past customers, especially the one who tried to jump over the counter to steal Lix’s brownie recipe.

 The sound of your laughter was like music to his ears, and his heart ached with a desire to keep making you laugh like this every day.

"I have to say," he said, his voice slightly hesitant, "making these brownies is always more enjoyable when you're here. You make everything better."

"Wow thanks, Lix, you are always so sweet" You pinched his cheeks admiring how squishy they were. 

Felix chuckled at your gesture, feeling his cheeks heat up underneath your pinch. He couldn't help but notice how close you were to him, your touches sending small jolts of electricity through his body.

He then looked away, pretending to busy himself by cleaning up the workstation, his heart still racing from your touch. In reality, all he wanted to do was pull you closer and just hold you, but he knew he had to control himself.

“Let me help you!” 

You didn’t want him to do everything himself, especially after he was the one who offered to walk you home, it was the least you could do. 

He was touched by your eagerness to help, his heart melting at your thoughtfulness. He wanted to tell you that he didn't mind doing it himself, but the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at your determined expression. Instead, he simply gave you a small smile. 

"Alright, if you insist," he said, handing you a cloth to wipe down the counter.

It was a sight he was used to. Every night after the two of you closed shop, you bid him a quick farewell, and he would follow you home. He was always 20 steps behind, his hood covering his face just in case. 

Unbeknownst to you, he would watch you through your kitchen window. His eyes fixated on your every move. He knew so many of your habits by now, like the way you used utensils to sing along to whatever was playing in your headphones. Or the way you always drank green tea instead of coffee, letting it steep in your owl mug. He would watch you for hours, no matter the weather, just to get the smallest peak into your life. 

He had become a little obsessed, in all honesty. He found himself unable to tear himself away from the view of you going about your day, his heart and mind fully fixated on you. Every time he peered into your kitchen window, he felt a mix of guilt and excitement. 

The guilt, of course, came from the fact that he was practically stalking you, but the excitement came from the opportunity to see you again, even if it was from afar.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it. The need to see you, to be near you was too strong to resist.

“Hey Lixie, I think we are pretty much done, are you ready to go?" you asked, pulling the brownies out of the oven directly putting saran wrap on them, and putting them in the fridge so they could get a thick crackle on them by the time Lee Know was supposed to come in and cut them for the morning rush. 

He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, he just stared at you, his mind in a daze. 

"Uh, right..." he said, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, we're all done. Let's go."

As he watched you put on your jacket, he couldn't help but take in your every movement, his heart rate increasing once again. He felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves as he realized he was actually going to walk you home, something he had been secretly dreaming of for weeks now.

“You ready to lock up?” you asked, your head cocking to the side as you jingled the keys in front of him, ushering him to leave the building. 

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, clearing his throat. "Let's get going." 

He reached out and took the keys from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. It felt like an electric shock running through his body, and he instinctively pulled back, hoping you didn't notice the effect your touch had on him.

The two of you began walking side by side, the silence of the world around you causing you peace. You could no longer feel the lingering eyes that roamed your body as you had for the past few months. Instead, you felt a sense of comfort as you walked beside Felix. 

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. He was just so aware of your presence, the subtle scent of your perfume, the way your shoulder occasionally brushed against his...it was driving him crazy. It was too silent for his liking so he urged to start a conversation with you, anything to break the tension. 

"Um, so...how's your day been?" he finally managed to ask, wincing inwardly at how lame it sounded.

"Lixie, we had the same day?" 

You chuckled at his antics, your own breath stable compared to his harsh breathing as he just blinked at you, unable to process what you had just said. 

"Hello? Earth to Lee Yongbok Felix, you alive in there?"

He blinked again, his brain finally catching up with what you had said. He chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Right...sorry, I guess I'm just a little tired." 

He mentally kicked himself for being so obvious. He couldn't let on how much your presence affected him. He was supposed to act cool and casual like nothing was going on inside his head. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to do so with every step he took next to you.

"That's your apartment isn't it?" he asked pointing up to your building. The two of you were just a couple hundred feet away from it. 

"Yeah, it is, how did you know?" you asked, a confused look on your face.

You had never brought Felix to your apartment, in a matter of fact, the only people who knew where you lived were your parents, a couple of close friends, and Lee Know because it was on your resume. 

Felix froze, his heart skipping a beat. 

He had let slip that he knew where you lived without realizing it. He mentally cursed himself, trying to think of a quick explanation. He couldn't let you know he had been the one following you home every night. That would be creepy and completely ruin any chance he had with you. 

He swallowed hard, forcing a casual laugh. "Oh, uh...I just guessed. Lucky hunch, I guess."

Before you could even respond, the sky darkened and fat raindrops began to fall, drenching both of you. The chill soaked through your clothes, making you shiver. He stood there, stunned by the sudden downpour. Without a second thought, you grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against the cold rain. You tugged him urgently, splashing through puddles as you ran towards your apartment building. The sound of rain and hurried footsteps filled the air. Breathless, you pulled him inside, the warmth and dryness a welcome relief from the storm outside.

Felix felt a rush of adrenaline as you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the building. The sudden rain had caught him off guard, but the feeling of your hand, warm and tight around his, sent a tingle down his spine.

 He quickly followed you inside, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to keep his composure, but being this close to you, holding your hand, was doing all sorts of things to him.

"Here why don't you come up to my apartment, I don't want you to get sick from this weather. You can dry off and we can eat something!" 

His heart leaped at your suggestion. The thought of being in your apartment, of being alone with you...it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. But he couldn't say no, not when you were being so kind to him. 

He nodded, trying not to let his eagerness show too much. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."

"I really don't mind. Come up and change into some dry clothes, okay? I'll order us something to eat. Are you okay with Thai food?" you asked as the two of you stepped into the elevator.

 Both of you were drenched, and a puddle began to form at your feet as you waited to reach your floor.

Felix nodded again, his thoughts racing as he watched the elevator numbers climb. He was going to be in your apartment, alone with you, it was like a dream come true. 

"Thai food sounds great," he managed to say, his voice slightly breathless. "I'll eat anything right now, I'm starving."

"I would hope so, you didn't eat anything our entire shift today" you pouted, trying to remember if he even had his daily shaken iced espresso with oat milk that he usually makes twice a shift.

He chuckled at your pout, his heart melting at how cute you looked. He also found it sweet that you kept track of if he had eaten or not. It was one of the many things about you that he loved. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I was so busy today that I kind of forgot to take a break."

 He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He didn't want to admit that he had been so distracted thinking about you that he hadn't even thought about eating.

"That's not good Lix, you shouldn't over-exert yourself" you scolded him while trying to find the keys to your apartment.

"I know, I know, I just had a lot on my mind today," he admitted, feeling a little guilty for not taking better care of himself.

You finally found your keys and opened the door, allowing him to step inside. "I'm going to shower real quick, and then you can go after me so you don't catch a cold, okay?"

He nodded, trying to keep his cool as he stepped into your apartment. His heart was racing again as he thought about you being naked and wet only a few feet away. 

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Just don't take too long, or I might get lonely and start raiding your fridge." He joked, trying to hide his inner thoughts.

He chuckled at the sight of the empty fridge, making a mental note to offer to take you grocery shopping sometime. He quickly took your phone from you, looking down at the already-opened delivery app with your part of the order placed. 

He watched as you headed towards the bathroom, a lump forming in his throat as he imagined you stripping down and stepping into the shower. The image was burned into his mind, and it took all his self-control to not follow you into the bathroom. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked down at your phone, trying to distract himself. 

He glanced at the bathroom door, wondering how long you would be. He was trying not to be impatient, but his mind and body were both eagerly anticipating your return.

You stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind you as you wrapped a towel around your damp hair. Droplets of water trickled down your neck and shoulders, soaking into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and shorts, making them cling to your skin. The cool air of the room sent a shiver down your spine as you padded softly across the floor toward Felix. 

Felix's breath caught in his throat as you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and wearing thin, clinging clothes. The sight of you, still slightly wet and rosy from the shower, was almost too much for him to handle. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every inch of damp skin, and his heart skipped several beats. 

He managed to tear his gaze away from you and tried to act casual, but he couldn't help the way his body reacted to your presence. He swallowed hard, trying to control the ache in his jeans.

"Hey, Lix," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of warmth. "The bathroom is free, so please go ahead and shower. Just hand me your clothes so I can dry them for you, okay?"

"I also left an extra pair of clothes and a towel in the bathroom so it's easier for you"

He quickly stood up, trying to adjust his jeans again and hide his arousal. He picked up his wet clothes from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. 

"Thanks," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I won't be too long." 

He entered the bathroom and closed the door, locking it behind him. He leaned against the door, taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves and the growing tension in his body.

He slowly stripped off his damp clothes, tossing them towards the door. He couldn't help but glance at the pile of clothes, imagining you taking them off of your body. He quickly picked up your shirt, smelling your scent on it, and the thought made him shiver.

Felix's heart nearly stopped when he saw the pair of black lace panties lying on the floor. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, his heart rate immediately increasing. 

Before he could stop himself, he picked them up and brought them closer to his face, taking in the scent of your laundry detergent essence on the fabric.

His cock hardened at the thought of you wearing them, your pussy pressing and rubbing against them as the two of you worked the entire day. 

He let out a groan before slowly wrapping the fabric around his leaking cock. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you right? It’s not like he was purposely doing it, it was just right there for his convenience. 

He muffled his moans as he pumped his cock with your underwear, trying to be as quiet as possible as the water ran in the background. His only thought was you. 

You when you wore those cute little dresses. You. When you always bent over to get things from the fridge for him knowing how much his back ached. You. who helped him embrace his freckles. You, who was in this bathroom mere minutes before him, fully naked. 

With that he came with a groan, quickly hopping into the shower to ride out his high under the steaming hot water, cleaning your underwear of any evidence of infidelity while he was at it. 

He grabbed the soap and began to run it over his body, scrubbing away the layers of dirt and sweat, and the shame of him cumming on your pretty little panties, only further intoxicated him with your scent. 

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you knocked on the door to the bathroom. 

"Felix?"

He heard your voice calling out to him, breaking the spell. He quickly threw the lace into his pile of clothes and turned off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Yeah?" he called out, his voice a bit shaky. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, the food just here so I was wondering if you were finished washing up?"

He took a quick breath, trying to compose himself. 

"Yeah, I'm just about done. I'll be out in a minute." 

He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and water droplets running down his chest and arms. He tried to ignore the way your eyes lingered on his bare skin, pretending not to notice the slight flush that was creeping up your neck.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea I forgot to leave clothes for you in the bathroom" you whispered, your cheeks reddened. 

You quickly handed them to him before scurrying out of your room.

Felix chuckled as you handed him the clothes, his heart warming at your flustered state. He found it endearing how shy you were about accidentally forgetting to leave him clothes to change into. He tried to ignore the way his body reacted to the sight of you blushing and flustered, his towel becoming uncomfortably tight for a brief moment.

He quickly dressed in the clothes you had given him, trying his best not to focus on the fact that they smelled like you. The baggy t-shirt was comfortable, but the way it clung to his damp skin and hair made him feel even more on edge.

He took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping back into the living room where you were setting down plates and chopsticks. 

"So, what's for dinner?" he asked, feigning nonchalance and hoping you wouldn't notice the small bulge in his sweatpants.

You held up the two takeout containers, "well I ordered drunken noodles, and I kind of forgot what you did. We can always share!"

Felix chuckled again, feeling relieved that you hadn't noticed his current...situation. He tried to keep his mind off the way your shirt dipped low enough to show off your collarbones, and the way your shorts rode up slightly on your thighs. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the food. 

"Sounds good to me," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving."

He walked over to the couch, sat down, and tried to keep his pose casual. He glanced over at you, noticing how your hair was still damp and your cheeks were still slightly pink. The sight made his heart rate speed up again, and he tried to distract himself by looking down at the food.

He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started digging into the noodles, trying to act like everything was normal. But as he watched you eat, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to dirty thoughts. He could see your lips wrapped around the utensils, the way your tongue would flick out to catch any stray noodle…

“You okay Lixie?” you asked, looking up at him as you ate more of your food. Your cheeks are slightly full causing him to choke on his own dish. 

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice a little strained. "Just...hungry, you know?"

A while passed like this, the silence of the room only occasionally broken up by small talk. The both of you were too infatuated in your food to even register what else was happening. 

"Do you want me to wash up your plate?" you asked, getting up from the cushion you were on.

Felix's eyes followed you as you got up, watching the way your shirt rode up even more, revealing more of your smooth, soft skin.

 He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning, his body responding even more to the sight of you moving around, so close and yet so out of reach. 

He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, trying to compose himself. "Uh, yeah, sure," he managed to say, his voice a little hoarse.

"So you aren't going to have your nightly cup of green tea" he asked as you began cleaning up your table and walking over to your kitchen. 

You looked at him startled, your eyes going wide. "How did you know about that?"

Felix chuckled, feeling a wave of affection for you wash over him. He knew you too well to not know about your obsession with green tea. 

"Let's just say I pay closer attention to your habits than you think," he said with a sly smile. "You have a cup of tea every night before bed, like clockwork. It's almost endearing how predictable you are."

"Felix, I've never had green tea at work, the only time I do is when I get home, how did you know what I drink before I go to bed" you asked, worry ridden on your face as you began to look around your kitchen for anything to protect you.

Felix's smile faded as he noticed the look of worry on your face, and he realized his poor choice of words.

"Hey, hey, calm down," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It was just a guess, I swear. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's not just a guess" you screamed. That's when it clicked, he was the one who had been watching you every night. 

The only time you were followed was after your shift with him. He knew exactly what apartment you lived in. It wasn't just a "lucky guess" as he said. He knew everything.

Felix's heart dropped as he realized the extent of his slip-up. You had figured out that he had been watching you, and now you were scared and confused. 

"Listen, please...let me explain," he pleaded, standing up from the couch. "I can explain everything, just please give me a chance to speak."

"No, I don't want an explanation, I need you to get the fuck out" you screamed, curling into a corner in your kitchen, your body shook as you began to speak up again.

"Why are you doing this to me, I thought we were friends" you whined, tears streaming down your face.

Felix's heart broke as he saw the fear and sadness in your eyes. He took a step closer to you but stopped when you shrunk further into the corner, clearly terrified of him.

"I know, I know, but please, just listen to me," he begged, his voice cracking. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I just...I care about you. I care too much. And I thought...I thought I could prevent something bad from happening if I just kept an eye on you."

"How were you helping? You were the one who was causing everything" you continued to sob.

He wanted to deny your accusations, but he knew he couldn't. He had been the one stalking you, following you home every night and watching you from afar. 

He had justified it to himself, telling himself it was for your own good, but now that you knew the truth, he could see how creepy and wrong it was.

 He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye, his voice quiet and shaky. "You're right. I was the one causing everything."

He took a tentative step closer to you but stopped again when he saw the look of fear flash in your eyes. 

"But I...I never meant to scare you," he said, his own eyes tearing up. 

"I just...I just couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you, and I thought if I just kept a constant eye on you, I could prevent it."

"Protect me how!" you screamed, "why would you do this to me?" you continued to sob. 

"I just wanted to make you feel good sweetheart" he whispered, bending down to capture your face in his hand, brushing away your tears.

He brought down his lips towards your before kissing you, the taste of your tears infiltrating his mouth as you attempted to push him away.

He could feel you trying to push him away, but he just held on tighter, refusing to let you go. He knew he didn't deserve to kiss you, not after everything he had done, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed to feel your lips on his, even if just for a moment.

"Please sweetheart, want to make you feel good. Won't you be a good baby and take it?" he grinned, watching the way your lips puffed out from him ever so slightly nibbling on it.  Your tears streaking your flushed red cheeks. You looked at him meekly before nodding, taking your hand in his, not understanding how he had such an effect on you.

Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.

“Such a good girl for me” he muttered into your lips. 

Felix chuckled as you nodded, his heart swelling with a twisted mix of emotions, and he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a deep kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, tasting the salty tears that still lingered on them.

He pushed you backward until your back hit the wall, pinning you against it with his body. He broke the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes, his own eyes darkened with a possessive lust. 

"You're mine, you know that right?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse. "You belong to me and only me."

You whined as he continued to caress your face. 

Felix chuckled again as you whined and leaned into his touch, the sound of your needy whines only fueling his desire for you. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin,

"That's right, sweetheart. You're mine, and I'm never letting go. You're going to do everything I say, and you're going to love every second of it."

He nipped at your earlobe, his hands roaming your body, feeling the soft skin of your back through your shirt.

"And if you're a good girl for me, I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bite marks in his wake.

"Lixie" you whined as he continued to nibble at your skin.

Felix chuckled at your whine, his heart fluttering at the sound of his nickname on your lips. He continued to kiss and bite at your skin, marking you as his, his hands gripping your hips possessively. 

“All needy and desperate," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."

You grasped his hand and led him to your room, your senses overwhelmed by his embrace, feeling his warmth as he held you close.

Felix followed you obediently, his grip on your hand tight as he allowed you to lead him into your room. His heart was racing with desire and excitement, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. 

"So obedient," he murmured, his voice filled with praise as he pressed up behind you once you reached the edge of your bed.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent as his hands roamed your body. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire.

"Really?" you asked, feeling his embrace tighten as he pressed closer. 

Felix hummed in response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he held you close. "Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured between kisses, his hands slipping under your shirt to feel your soft skin. 

"For as long as I can remember, I've craved having you like this, all to myself. It's driving me insane with how badly I want you."

"Is that why you kept watching me?" you asked, turning around to face him, your hand clutching his face, tracing every freckle as he began to speak.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and hoarse. "That's why. I couldn't resist the urge to watch you, to know every move you made, to make sure you were safe."

"I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep you close. I needed to feel like I had some control over your life, and watching you was the only way I could do that."

"That's not normal though Lixie"

"I know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I know it's not normal, and I'm sorry. But...but I just...I just couldn't stop myself. I care about you too much."

"Then show me, please," you whispered, kissing his cheek and trailing down to his soft, plump lips.

Felix's heart skipped a beat as you kissed his cheek and then his lips, your whine sending a shiver down his spine. He responded eagerly to your kiss, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of your lips on his. But then he pulled away, a determined look in his eyes. 

"Sweetheart, I can show you, but first you have to promise me something," he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Anything" you whimpered, feeling yourself growing wetter at every passing moment that he wasn't next to you, his touch not being pressed against you

"Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that you belong to me and no one else," he whined as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to his face. 

"I promise" you whispered back before kissing him feverishly.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You’re all mine now, sweetheart."

Before you could even respond, he pushed you onto the bed, his body following soon after as he settled on top of you. His hands moved under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your stomach.

He began to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, stopping to bite and suck at the spot where your shoulder met your neck. He wanted to mark you, to claim you as his own. 

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," he murmured against your skin, his hands continuing to roam your body.

"How long Lixie?" you whimpered as he began to pull off your shirt. He took in the sight of your bare skin, biting his lip as he straddled you, his thighs shutting yours closed as he began to kiss up and down your neck. 

"So long" he murmured between kisses. "For years, I've been waiting for this. Wanting you, aching for you."

"Want you too" you whined as you pulled off his shirt, your hands roaming up and down his chiseled chest, watching the way his body clenched slightly as you ran your finger along his abs.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue dipping into your mouth as he pulled you closer to him, his hands roaming your body once again.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he panted, breaking the kiss for a moment before attacking you once again, your lips pressing against one another feverishly.

You gazed at him, noting his ragged breath. "Then show me," you whimpered as his hands began to caress your thighs.

"I'll show you just how much I desire you, just how much I need you."

He began to kiss and bite at your thighs, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks on your skin. He wanted to make sure that you would remember this moment, that you would remember who you belonged to.

He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your inner thigh. "Every part of you is mine."

“Yours” you whimpered as he continued to abuse you everywhere but the one place you needed him. 

He loved how needy you were for him, your body begging for his touch. He moved his lips closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your skin.

Felix's eyebrows raised in surprise and excitement as he pulled off your shorts, his breath catching in his throat as he saw that you weren't wearing any panties. You were so wet it began to drip down to your thighs. 

"You're full of surprises, aren't you baby?" he said, his voice thick with desire. "And here I thought you were a good girl."

He slowly licked a stripe up your cunt, savoring the taste that he couldn’t quite get off your panties. 

“And you taste so good too, could eat you for hours” he moaned before diving back in, his fingers opening up your pretty little cunt for him, allowing him to nip at your clit. 

“Fuck Lix!” you whined above him, your hand finding his hair, intertwining your fingers between it, pushing him deeper into your pretty little pussy.  

He slowly removed his mouth from your cunt, your essence covering the bottom half of his face. “You are going to take what I give you or else you aren’t gonna get anything” he grinned before shoving himself back into you, letting his tongue flick out, swiping across your sensitive flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 

He continued to lick and taste you, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as you writhed and whimpered beneath him. He loved the way you tasted. 

“So sweet baby, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted” he muttered into your poor cunt as he began to push his finger inside of you, stretching out your whole. 

“Lixie, it feels so good” you whined as he continued to lap at you, savoring each and every moan and whine that escaped your pretty little lips. 

He continued to tease you, his tongue and lips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but never quite pushing you over. He could feel how close you were, how your body trembled beneath him. 

"You want to come, don't you, my sweet girl?" he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "But I'm not going to let you. Not yet."

"Why!" you whined underneath him, bucking your hips up to get any sort of stimulation.

He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down with a firm grip, preventing you from bucking against him

"Because I want you to wait for me to fuck you, baby," he murmured, his mouth moving to the other thigh, leaving a trail of love bites in its wake. "I want you to be desperate for me, aching for me. I want to ruin you completely."

His tongue continued to tease you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, his teeth nipping at your skin as he went.

 "I want you to be so desperate for release that you'll do anything I ask," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And only when you truly beg for me will I finally give you my cock” he chuckled against your cunt. 

"Please Lixie, need you in me, can't do this anymore" you whined, your chest heaving and tears began to stream out of your eyes. He had been edging you for so long, pulling away as soon as he felt you were close to your high. His fingers that were previously thrusting in you stopped completely, his soaked face only rising to laugh at your pathetic face.

"Oh sweetheart, you're so cute when you beg," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "But I don't think you've earned it yet."

"Please, I've been such a good girl for you Lixie, please let me cum, or at least fuck me" you whimpered "I'll do anything, anything you ask me, just please let me cum" you whined, tears falling out faster as your entire body shook from the multiple orgasms that were ripped away from you ever so easily under his grasp.

Felix's eyes darkened at your words, his body responding to your desperate pleas. He loved seeing you like this, so needy and pathetic, begging for him to give you what you so desperately needed. He knew he had complete control over you, and he loved every second of it. 

"Anything, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "You'll do anything I ask, no matter what?"

"Yes Lix, anything, just fuck me already!" you screamed.

He leaned down, his body pressing against yours as he spoke into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl, maybe I should give it to you” 

You simply nodded your head up and down as fast as you physically possible, showing you truly how eager you were for him. 

He laughed at how desperate you were for him, pulling down his boxers, allowing his extremely hard cock to slap his stomach, the tip red and angry already leaking pre-cum. 

It took all his might to not cum in his boxers at the taste of you. 

“Please Lixie, need your cock inside of me” you whined, spreading your legs open for him, allowing him to see how your hole pulsed at just the sight of him standing there, his hard cock slapped against his stomach. 

Felix's eyes darkened even more at your words, his breathing ragged with desire. He was losing control, his own need for you becoming almost too much to resist fucking you. 

He slowly bent down, positioning himself between your legs, his hands pinning your hips to the bed to keep you still. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and possessive.

With that, he pushed inside you, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your hot tight cunt wrapping around his length.

You moaned underneath him, his body pressing against yours as you got used to his sheer size inside of you. 

He buried himself deep within you, filling you completely, his hands continuing to roam around your body. He needed to touch you, to make sure that his fantasy were real. 

He had spent nights jerking off to the thought of you begging for his cock, whimpering for him, and it took all his strength to cum right there and then at the sight of your eyes pressed together, your mouth hung open as he began to thrust inside of you. 

He began to move, his thrusts rough and desperate, his breathing ragged and shallow. He needed you, needed to possess you and claim you completely.

“Feels so good Lix”

You kept babbling at the feeling of him inside of you. The only thought on your mind was him. 

“Lix, Lix, Lix” you kept muttering, drool slowly escaping past your lips. 

"You're mine, sweetheart," he repeated, his voice low and rough in your ear. "No one else is ever going to make you feel this way again. Only me. You're mine."

“Only yours” you whimpered out. 

"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."

He slowly pulled his hand down to where you needed him most, playing with your clit as he continued his brutal pace inside of you. 

"That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his hips picking up speed. "You're mine and mine alone. No one else will ever touch you, have you, own you. Only me."

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks and bites as he continued his relentless pace, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"I won't let anyone else have you," he whispered in your ear, his lips nipping at your skin. " I'll make sure of that. You're mine, forever. No one else will ever know you the way I do. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I can."

His hands roamed your body as he continued to claim you, his lips and teeth marking your skin, his hips never ceasing in their relentless pace.

Every time you called out his name, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips, only served to drive him deeper into his primal need for you.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He wanted to see your face, to see the way you looked at him in this moment, completely lost in the pleasure and ecstasy he was giving you.

“Aren’t you a good girl for me?” he asked, slightly slapping your cheek to get a response

“Yes!” you screamed as he began to push your legs back, his cock pressing deeper inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time he rutted his hips inside of you. 

“Gonna cum” you moaned as he continued his brutal pace. 

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?” he growled into your ear, chasing his own high. 

His hips continued to slam into you, his breathing ragged and wild. He couldn't get enough of you, couldn't get close enough. He needed you, needed to claim every part of you as his own.

Felix growled low in his throat as you screamed that you were close to cumming. The sound of your ecstasy only fueled his own need and desire for you. He wanted to bring you to the edge, to make you lose all control beneath him.

"Not yet," he growled in your ear. "You're not coming without me."

His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and biting their way down to your collarbone. His hips began to move faster, his breathing becoming more ragged as he continued to drive you towards the edge of ecstasy.

"You're so close, aren't you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire. "I can feel it. I can feel how close you are for me. Your walls are clenching around me like a fucking vice, but you're not going to come yet, not until I say so." his pace is relentless and unceasing.

You continued to moan his name, like a fucking chant and he couldn't resist your desperate plea any longer. He could see how close you were to your release, how your body was tense and trembling beneath him. He loved seeing you so desperate for him.

"Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Let me hear you cry out my name."

“Felix!” you screamed one last time before letting go.

He continued to move his hips through your climax, his body trembling and shaking with the effort. His pace became more irregular and erratic as he approached his own release. He could feel himself nearing the edge, could feel the pressure building within him.

"Sweetheart," he gasped, his voice thick with need and desire. "I'm...I'm going to come. I can't hold on much longer."

“Come inside, please come inside of me” you whined, your body becoming more and more overstimulated as he continued to rut into you. It was easy to reach your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as Felix could feel his control slipping. His body was wracked with tremors and shivers as he neared his release. Your words only drove him closer to the edge, his body responding to your plea without hesitation.

"Yes," he gasped, his voice barely more than a guttural moan. 

His hips slammed into you with one final, rough thrust, his release crashing over him like a wave. He groaned your name, his arms wrapping around you tightly to keep you close as he lost himself in the ecstasy of his climax. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

“So baby, how about some green tea?” he giggled, pulling your body into him. 

“Just wanna stay like this” you whined as he kissed the top of your head, covering the two of you with the blanket.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice thick with emotion. "All mine. No one else gets to have you, no one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to know you the way I do. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."