#oh man i am so giddy with how you did this... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satorusugurugurl · 2 months ago

Note

Can u pls do jjk men fic w a chubby reader where the boys like her but they think he wouldn’t go for her cuz she’s a lil extra thicc.

(Maybe other jealous ppl tell her that too n make her insecure) and then the boys find out and confess n stuff (and spice too maybe) :3

JJK Men: You’re Beautiful!

Summary: JJK Men react to someone making you feel insecure about your body.

Characters: Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (Roommate AU), Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Chubby!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: making out, public smexy stuff, dry humping feeling up, body worship, language, fatphobia, body shaming, weight insecurities, Word

Count: 9K

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content! I wanted to finish this fic, and I have two others that are almost done, but your girl kept passing out in the middle of editing this! I hope you enjoy it!!

Choso Kamo:

“Snacks?”

“Check.”

“Water?”

“Check!”

“Picnic blanket?”

There was a pause on the other line of the phone. “Shit!” Choso yelled as you watched him turn back towards his house. “I knew I was forgetting something.” You bit down on your lip, kicking your feet as he turned his pretty eyes on you. The second your eyes made contact, you felt your cheeks flush as he smiled softly.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze as he turned and went back inside his apartment. You fell harder for your best friend when he smiled at you like that. The man you sat next to in art class who was quiet and kept to himself. Sitting there despite your friend's pleas for you not to had been the best decision of your entire life. Choso was amazing! He was sweet and talented, and he had a huge heart.

He loved his brothers and took amazing care of them, and God, he was so sweet. Plus, he was like the hottest guy you’d ever seen. God, you had it down for him, but you didn't dare tell him how you felt—not yet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Choso said as he walked to his car.

“N-Nothing!”

“There is because you haven't shown me your outfit.”

You perked up, grinning as you propped the phone on your vanity, standing far enough to show Choso your outfit. “I'm wearing a crop top and shorts!” you grinned, twirling around, showing off your thick, curvy body that you loved. What do you think?” When you glanced at the phone, you nearly tripped as you saw Choso smiling dreamily at you, his chin resting on his steering wheel as he stared.

“You look cute.” He said in an almost hushed tone that had your heart racing. “Alright, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sounds good. Please be safe while driving over here.”

“I always am.”

The second line disconnected, and you shoved your face into the corner and kicked your feet. He was so cute, and he said you were adorable! This was the best day ever, and he hadn’t even picked you up yet. Your eagerness had you rushing out of your room into the living room, where you found your roommate sitting. She was watching television, and as soon as she heard your entrance, she glanced up, eyes wide as she did a double takeover of your outfit.

You looked smoking hot. Your boobs were perfectly fitted in the tight crop top. At the same time, the curve of your ass would have men howling at it like those old-timey cartoons. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your light makeup was done. You were a stunning sight. But it wasn’t just your beauty that had your roommate seething with jealousy. It was your confidence and your giddy attitude over the fact that Choso Kamo was taking you out.

“Where are you off to?”

“Oh, Choso is taking me to the park! They’re having a movie night there, so we got tons of snacks, and we’re just going to watch a movie and talk under the stars.” The dreamily lovey-dovey look in your eyes made you already jealous of your roommate.

“You're going out like that?”

Her words had you stopping in your tracks as you glanced down at yourself. “Yeah—? Why do I have a hole in my pants or something?” You glance back at your pants.

“No, it's just—you’re going to be wearing a crop top in public with Choso?”

“I always wear crop tops.”

Your roommate could see the hesitation in your eyes at her words. “Yeah, but that’s normally when we’re with our other friends. You know friends who are thick like you. You’ll be sitting on a blanket next to Choso, who looks like an artisan carved him out of marble.” You swallowed, poking at your cute tummy. “I just wouldn't want you to be embarrassed; you are a little extra thick.” She stood up, carrying her past you and moving towards the kitchen. “You aren’t trying to impress him by wearing something like that, right?”

You had been trying to impress him. You picked out your cutest and the shorts that looked great on you. This was the outfit you always wore when you needed a confidence boost.

“Oh—you were trying to impress him, weren’t you?” You swallowed hard at your suddenly dry throat. “Oh honey, you’re too thick for him. Could you imagine being on top of him?” She shook her head as she threw her bowl in the sink. “If you want to impress him, maybe pick up on my workout regiment?”

Her words left you feeling stunned as you scoffed. “That was fucking rude.” You snapped, eyebrows throwing together as you glared. “Choso said my outfit looked cute. And you might be insecure with your body, but I love mine.” Your roommate rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys off the counter, heading for the door.

“Cute as in a sisterly way, probably.”

As the door to your shared department behind her, you resisted the urge to throw her mother’s face at the door. Ever since you and Choso had grown closer together, your roommate, who was a friendly acquaintance, had turned into a mythic bitch. She was constantly jabbing you about your weight and what you wore. It might be time for you to start looking for a new roommate or somewhere else to live. She had just to be jealous, which shouldn’t affect you.

But it did.

As you glanced at the mirror, you suddenly felt overly exposed. She was right; Choso had a nice build, and you were curvy and thick. Those toxic, cruel words had you reaching into the closet, slipping on a hoodie over your shorts before you headed downstairs to wait for Choso to arrive.

The second he pulled up in front of your dorm, the passenger-side window rolled down. “Hey cutie, ready fo—” Choso frowned eyeing the hoodie as you got in the front seat. “Uhm, what happened to the crop top and shorts?” He prodded as he pulled onto the main road, heading for the park.

“Uhm—I got cold.”

“It’s eighty degrees.”

“Yeah? So?”

Choso sighed, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he focused on the road. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” That stung like a lash from a whip.

“I’m not lying.” You sighed out, tilting your head back.

“Ha, you honestly think I’m buying that? I know you. And I know when you’re cold because you’re normally on top of me, trying to steal my body heat. So you aren’t cold.” It was almost annoying that he knew you so well. But at the same time, you were thankful that he did. Slowly turning your head, you could see him glancing at you every few seconds while he maintained a vigilant gaze on the road. “So, are you going to come up with another shitty lie? Or are you gonna tell me why you’re wearing a hoodie over the outfit you were so excited to show me.”

You groaned, scrubbing your hands down your face before turning in your seat. “Has anyone told you that it’s annoying how observant you are?” The remark only had your crush smiling. “Fine, fine, uhm—” you rubbed your neck, “my roommate made some pretty nasty comments, so I wasn’t feeling as confident in it.”

Anger tagged at the features of Choso’s face. “What?!” He snapped, turning his gaze back on you.

“Yeah, it’s pretty shocking, to say the least. She said lots of stuff. Mostly along the lines that I was too thick to be wearing what I was.” Those words rang in your ears. “She asked if I was trying to impress you, and when I said I was, she said I was too thick for you. And I snapped back, telling her you said my outfit was cute.” The blinker clicked several times. It chose to pull off the main road and down a dark alley. “And then she said that it was most likely in a brotherly way. Which I knew it was bullshit because we’re friends and you were just hyping me up.”

“No, " the car stopped completely. You’re both wrong.”

When you turned your attention back on Choso, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I-I was wrong?” you squeaked as he learned over the console. His thick, long fingers grabbed both sides of your face.

“Yeah, I meant it in an I have the biggest fucking crush on you, and I want to kiss the hell out of you kind of way.”

You breathed heavily as he brushed his nose against yours, closing the distance between you. “W-What a coincidence, I have the biggest crush on you too.” He hummed stray dark strands of hair, tickling your cheek. “A-And I would love to kiss you.” You were suddenly yanked forward, Choso’s lips on yours as he kissed you like you had never been kissed before.

You melted, and the sweet taste of mint flooded your mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. With a soft moan, you opened your mouth for him, shaking as his hands reached around you, grabbing the back of your head, forcing your lips harder against his as he deepened the kiss. His tongue moved feverishly against yours as he pulled you tight against his chest.

“M-mm!” You moaned, digging your fingers into his shirt, reciprocating the want that he had shown you.

Choso broke the kiss, first panting heavily as he glared at your hoodie as if it had insulted one of his brothers. “Take this off; I wanna see your body.” He growled, grabbing the fabric shielding you from his gaze, tugging it over your head, and throwing it somewhere in the backseat. “Oooh fuck.” He whispered, hands gliding over your shoulder, saying he took in an eye full of your beauty. “You’re so pretty.” His eyes slowly met yours as he yanked you over the console.

“W-Wait!” You yelped out, your roommate's words hitting you at a terrible time. “Hold on!”

“My windows are tinted. It’s fine.”

“That’s not it! I don’t want to crush you.”

“Honey,” you squeaked out another gasp as Choso bull-yanked you over the console of the car, flopping you down on his lap. “You aren’t going to crush me. Fuck.” He groaned as he laid the seat back. “Fuccck, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, running his hands over your beautiful curves, fingers gently caressing the stretch marks on your sides. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. To have you in my arms, kissing you, worshiping your beautiful body.”

You moaned, shaking slightly as you pressed his face and your breasts, kissing and nipping out your cleavage. “F-Fuck—” Shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps littered your arms; your best friend continued to run his hands up and down your body, taking you in like this was the first time he saw you.

“You’re a masterpiece.” His hands grow up your ass, squeezing it. “I can’t believe I can finally admire your beauty up close and personal and not from afar anymore.” Choso ran his tongue over your breasts while his hands moved your hips, encouraging you to rock against him.

“C-Choso~ g-god me too; I‘ve wanted you for so long.”

“Then have me.”

Your hips automatically began rocking against the hardening bulge in his jeans, drawing out soft moans from the both of you. Each roll of your jean-clad shorts against him was like electricity, like fireworks going off at a summer festival. It was exciting and new, and each move was more exciting than the first, as you were both bound by rhythm, and that was perfect in no time. Choso’s fingers dug into your hips as your lips found his neck, nipping and sucking at his sensitive skin, growing out the prettiest sounds from him.

This felt like a dream, a dream that you had had many times. But the smell of spice and pine let you know that this was not a dream. It was reality, and it was a reality where your best friend was moaning underneath, you bucking his hips up against your core as you relentlessly ground down on him.

“Nngh~ fuck, that feels so good.”

“C-Cho, fuck you’re so hard.”

He laughed, and it was smooth and rich, like dark chocolate. “I’m always hard around you.” He admitted, his hands leaving your hips, slowly slipping under your shirt to grope and tease your breasts. “I like you so much. I liked you before you even sat next to me in class, f-fuck!” Choso cried out, throwing his head back as you sucked on his skin, leaving marks everyone would be able to see.

“Yeah~?”

“Fuck y-yeah, haaah,” you watched an ecstasy as his eyes rolled back into his. “I-I was working u-up the courage to talk t-to nngh!” A loud moan broke through his words as you rolled your hips in a circle over his hard cock. “Oooh, holy fuck—it’s hard to talk when you’re doing that.”

“Ooh, I’m sorry, honey.” You weren’t sorry in the slightest. “You can continue.”

Choso sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “I-I was working up the courage to talk to you, but you beat me.” He spat out before his voice broke as you rolled your hips faster against that hard bulge in his. “Fuck—c-confessions later, it’s hard to be serious when I’m trying not to cum in my pants.” Knowing that you already had them on the edge only encouraged your momentum.

“Ooh~ what stopping you from doing that?

“Heh, I don’t want to make a mess inside of my pants like a teenager again.” You rocked harder against him. “Fuck, but you seem determined.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about messing up your pants; you could mess up my mouth instead.”

The confidence, the tone of your voice, and the friction were Choso’s downfall.

You felt him twitching his pants before bucking up relentlessly against you. And in that moment, you had never been more thankful than inseams and jeans. That perfect scene rubbed right against you in quite the ideal way, drawing shattering cries from you as you forward onto Choso’s chest and coming inside your panties, right along with him. The waves of pleasure left you twitching as your heart thundered in your ears.

After a few minutes of lying in the afterglow, you pulled away to look down at the man underneath you. He looked as dazed as you felt. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his fingers ran lazily up and down your back. Choso looked like every dream he’d ever dreamt had just come true. It was a blissful expression, one that you fairly certainly mirrored.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, I felt. And I’m sorry my confession came out under such shitty circumstances.” Choso whispered as he sat slightly, peppering your shoulders with kisses.

“I could’ve easily confessed to you, too; I was just nervous.”

“We both were.” He corrected, wrapping his arms around you. “But I want you to know I meant every word I said. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and my best friend.”

You take your bottom lip between teeth and smile shyly down at him. “You’re my best friend to Cho, and thank you for liking me for me.” He hummed, slapping your ass and drawing out a squeak from you.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way. And as much as I would love to keep you on my lap, I think we need to make a pit stop at my apartment before we go to the park. I need to change my pants.”

“Oor~ we could have a movie night in your bedroom? With no clothes on. Because believe it or not, leaving naked underneath, you would be a lot more cuter than this outfit when you agree.”

Choso turned red, not saying a word at first before his hands massaged your ass. “Get this sweet succulent in the passenger seat right now. We’re going back to my place.” And you were right; your crop top looked much better on his floor next to his clothes.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Gojo always found an excuse to go party at his luxurious house. His excuse this week was to celebrate his new puppy. It was an excuse everyone would gladly use to spend an evening dancing, drinking, and smoking. You and your roommate Sukuna were two of those people.

“Did You seriously bring a fucking gift for the dog?” your crimson-eye roommates snapped as he opened the door to Gojo’s house for you.

“For starters, her name is Kiki, and secondly, yes, I did.” you turn to look up at your towering roommate. His face tattoo is even visible in the low lights on the porch. “You drop the beer. I brought the gift. That’s what makes us a great team.”

Sukuna looked away; annoyance etched into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, teammates.” he smacked your ass with the six-pack he was carrying, pushing you through the threshold. “Go on, teammate, get that ass of yours inside.” you barked out inside the crowded house and searched for your mutual friends. “Oi, I’m going to drop this off in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay!” you yelled over the blaring music before venturing into the living room.

You spotted Satoru on the couch with a husky puppy sitting on his lap. Bright blue eyes met you as you approached. “Stop!” Gojo nudged a smoking Suguru, who choked on his hit. “Who the fuck is this sexy bitch?” Kiki barked almost in agreement as you grinned, handing the tug-of-war toy to Kiki, who sniffed it hesitantly before chewing on it approvingly. “Seriously, you look so hot. Did you get all dolled up for your asshole roommate?”

“No, I just felt like dressing up a little.” Dressing in a short red and black plaid skirt and a tight red T-shirt with something you rarely did. You weren’t exactly thin. Your butt was too big, your thighs pressed together when you walked, and your tummy was soft. You loved your body, all the dimples and stretch marks that came along with your curvy figure, but mostly showed off around the apartment wearing a tank top and dolphin shorts. You often wear leggings and an oversized jacket when you are out and about, but tonight was different.

Sukuna had been the one encouraging you to dress up, telling you to live a little and wear what you wanted. Initially, You hesitated, but you decided that maybe he was right. Life was too short to suffer inside of a hoodie!

“You look hot.” Geto chimed in, taking another hit from a blunt. “You should dress like that more often; I can feel the confidence radiating off you.”

“That's what I keep telling her.”

You smiled as your roommate came up behind you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

“I don’t know, Sukuna; you should see how some of these guys look at her.” Gojo shifted Kiki to his other arm. “You might be going home alone tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.”

“I’m just speaking the truth!” Satoru shrugged the shoulder, pushing himself up. “Better act before someone else does.” Your roommate growled to ignore. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to take Kiki outside for potty training.

Before your friend could even step away, Shoko and Utahime hurriedly stepped in front of him. “Gojo, some delivery person is here with a three-tier cake, and he won’t bring it in until you sign for it.” A three-tier cake for a dog party?

Gojo looked between Shoko and his pretty husky. “Fuck, okay, let me put Kiki ou—” You stepped in, holding your arms out.

“I can take her out for you. I know how important potty training is for puppies.”

“Really, oh my God, thank you.” He pressed to kiss on top of Kiki’s head before handing her over to you. “Be good for your auntie. I’ll be back!”

“Hey, do you need me to come with you?” Sukuna asked as he nursed a beer.

“No, we’re all good!” Kiki probably turned you, licking your chin as you carried her to the backyard, replacing her down on the grass. “Good girl Kiki go potty, sweetie.” you praised her, the grass following her further out into the yard. “You’re such a pretty girl—”

“Did you see Sukuna’s roommate?” a voice called out from the back porch, and the door opened and closed.

“Who didn’t?” a man chimed in with a laugh. “You could spot that girl out in a heartbeat.”

“No shit! She’s a sore thumb compared to Sukuna! I honestly feel bad for him.”

Your stomach soured as you stayed out of sight of their cruel words. “Seriously, she should think before she dresses like that and when she’s around Sukuna on top of it! I would’ve been so embarrassed being seen with her in that skirt.”

Their choir of laughter had you sinking onto the grass. You thought your outfit looked good. Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna thought so, too, but maybe they were just being nice because they were your friends. These assholes had a point. Your roommate was so handsome, and you weren’t feeling the prettiest.

As Kiki sniffed the grass mindlessly before the door opened again. The assholes on the porch suddenly grew as you followed their gaze to Sukuna, who was looking around. They said nothing as he huffed out and sighed in annoyance.

“Have you guys seen my roommate?”

“No—I’m sure we would remember if we saw ‘her.’” one of the girls snickered, making you sink further onto the ground. Was this the part where your roommate joined in with their teasing? Making comments about your outfit? Being honest about what he thought.

You shut your eyes tight as you braced yourself for the truth. “What the fuck do you mean by that? Why are you laughing?” you perked up to look at a very pissed-off Sukuna.

“Well, let’s be honest, man, with her thighs, she shouldn’t be—”

The last words didn’t even get a chance to leave his mouth as Sukuna grabbed the asshole by the front of his shirt. “ I would think very carefully before the next words leave your fucking mouth.” you watched your roommate slam this dick against the wall of the porch. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.” his girl? Your cheeks flushed as you watched color leave the man's face.

“I-I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know!”

“Yeah? Well, now you do. Get the fuck out of my sight before I decide you’re not worthy of being in the same vicinity as me.”

The instant the assholes left, running inside with their tails between their legs, you picked yourself up off the grass, shuffling forward. Sukuna’s head lifted as he listened to your footsteps, turning his head and listening to you approaching him from behind. He scoffed, turning on his heel, leaning over the railing, and glancing at you.

“I’m going to take a while, guess, and say you heard everything those fuckers said.”

“Yep.”

“You know they’re full of shit, right?” You hummed, putting your hands behind your back because you stood below him, looking up at the porch. “I’m serious; they’re nothing but jealous pieces of shit. You’re beautiful.”

“And I'm also apparently your girl, too.”

Shock didn’t cross his features; his fingers curled in slightly as he kept his transfixed on you. “Yeah, I want you to be my girl. I'm tired of being this teammate to you. And I honestly don’t know how clear I can be about how I feel about you.” Now that he was being so blatant with his words, you were finally starting to see what he was talking about.

All the late-night cuddle sessions, the lingering touches on your hips when he passed you, how he looked at you sometimes. Your roommate had been flirting with you this whole time, and you hadn’t realized it until he called you his girl. It was almost embarrassing to be so blind to his advances, but there was a time to be embarrassed about that later. Right now, you wanted to focus on the words he had just said.

“Why?”

Sukuna shows no signs of confusion or fear. His face remains blank, like an empty canvas. “Why what?”

“Why would you even want me to be your girl? I mean, look at me.”

“I am.”

You flushed as you bore into his eyes. “Okay, and you see me, right? You heard that asshole say, I shouldn’t be wearing skirts; I stick out like a sore thumb compared to you. People, apparently, think I’m not good enough.” A shadow flashed across your face as your roommate leaked over the edge of the porch, landing on the grass in front of you.

“Ive wanted you from the second you walked into our apartment.” Sukuna grabs both your wrists, gently holding them in his hands. “Im so fucking attracted to you. You have the perfect fucking body. I want you. I would not be able to keep my hands off of you if you even gave me a chance to touch you.”

“K-Kuna—” You gasped as his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I-I— are you sure?”

Instead of responding to your question, Sukuna leaned forward, pressing his lips against the drawers in a kiss that could stop time itself. The lingering taste of alcohol made your head spin as he backed you up against the pool house, pressing you firmly against it, one hand gripping the side of your face while the other slammed against the door.

His lips moved feverishly against yours, and your wall slowly began to come down around him. You found yourself no longer hesitating as you remembered his words and how passionately he had spoken of you. Your hands, which had limply stayed by your side, lifted up, and your fingers ran through his hair. You pulled him more tightly against your chest. And it was an action that your roommate absolutely loved.

Feeling you getting into the kiss into the passion that he had felt for you for so long, made Sukuna snarl as he gripped your hips, lifting you up as he searched for the handle to the door of the poolnhouse. He was going to take you in there and take his time to show you just exactly how much you meant to him. And how much he wanted you.

But finding the handle turned out to be a lot more difficult when his lips were on yours. “Where the fuck is the stupid handle?” Sukuna growled out, pulling away from your lips for a second before slamming them back against you, stepping back an inch in search of the handle from a different angle.

“I think it’s the left.” You out in between breaths of air before your lips connected with him again. But as your roommate searched for the handle, he found himself drifting along the side of the house, which had been a mistake.

It was a mistake on both of your parts. When Sukuna went to put his hand down on the wall, he came into contact with nothing. He had unknowingly reached the edge of the pool house and found himself tumbling forward with you wrapped in his arms. You let out a scream of shock as water engulfed you, and you both fell into Gojo’s pool. But this slight hiccup didn’t stop you—notin the slightest.

The instant you broke through the surface of the water, both of you blindly searched for each other. When you felt his body heat, you threw your arms around your roommate's neck, holding him close as you wrapped your legs around his waist. This allowed him to freely carry you towards the back of the pool, where he slammed you against the cool pebble tech wall.

“Sorry about your outfit,” Sukuna growled as he pulled back just enough to allow him to pull your shirt up and throw it over your head on the patio.

“Does it look like I give a fuck about my outfit right now?” You asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt, tugging it up and over your head, tossing it into the water, allowing it to float somewhere off in the pool.

“No, I honestly don’t think you give a fuck about it.”

“Then why are we still talking about it?”

Sukuna smirked, licking his lips slowly. “Alright, I hear ya’ I guess I’ll go ahead and let my lips do the talking.”

While you both made out in the back of the pool, Gojo stepped outside, looking around for you as he picked Kiki up off the ground. “Hey~? You good? Please tell me you didn’t fall in my pool and drowned.” He was starting to step forward when the unstable sound of splashing water, followed by a string of moans, stopped him in his tracks.

Kiki yelped happily as Gojo snickered, heading into the pool house, grabbing a couple of fresh towels, and setting them on the pool deck near the steps. “Well~ it looks like he took my advice and finally stepped up and took some action,” Gojo told his pretty dog as he headed back into the house, dimming the lights around the pool, making your steamy session just a bit more romantic.

Nanami Kento:

“So it’s a date?” Shoko asked, watching you Finish applying some very light makeup to your face.

“It is not a date. Nanami Just happened to have an extra ticket to my favorite musical. We’re friends, and there’s nothing more than that.”

“Oh, he just happened to have an extra ticket to your favorite musical. But he’s also taking you to a fancy restaurant beforehand?”

“It’s one of his favorite restaurants, and he wanted to take me there.”

Shoko blew smoke from the window to your balcony, shaking her head. “Boy, I bet you’re in for the surprise of a lifetime tonight.” You shot your best friend an annoyed glance in the mirror.

“We’re just friends—” Even though you wanted to be more than friends with the handsome, sweet, caring blonde you had fallen head over heels for. “so drop it.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Shoko put her cigarette out in the ashtray you had for her. “I cannot let you go on your date like—this.” She grimaced, eyeing your dress suit that skillfully hid your curves and thick thighs from the world.

You pouted, smoothing out the long skirt that went past your knees. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn't wrong with it? You look like a mother at her daughter's wedding. Or an elderly college professor. Or you look like you’re about to go in for a job interview, trying to make yourself look more professional than you are.”

Each very accurate comparison felt like a stab to your back. “Damn! Tell me how you feel. Sho, fuck.” She opened her mouth, and you quickly raised your hand, silencing her. “Wait, no, please don't,” Shoko smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you suggest I do?” Shoko, head to your closet, opening the door wide.

“The red one.”

Nanami arrived at your door right on time. He took a deep breath, adjusting his burgundy tie, before knocking on the door. Tonight was the night he was going to confess how he felt, how he wanted to be more than friends. His nerves were strong as iron as he focused on the door. There was nothing in the world that would stop him.

Your door opened, and Nanami swore he felt like you had personally punched him in the gut. You looked stunning. The tight red fabric clung to your waist showing over your unique curves; his eyes trailed lower, and god, the dress's sides were slit open, allowing him to get a peek at your succulent thick thighs. You had never dressed like this around him before; by god, you were like a masterpiece right off a canvas.

“Kento, are you okay?” His eyes glued on you and you alone, leaving you slightly flushed.

Your best friend shook his head, blinking before his gaze met you. “Oh, uhm, yes, yes, I am.” He did another quick glance over you. “I’m sorry, I just, I’ve never—” His eyes were glued on the slit in the dress. His expression was almost unreadable, making you feel like shrinking in on yourself.

This was the first time you’d ever worn anything this revealing around him. Usually, you wore loose-fitting clothes, so wearing a form-fitting gown was different. Something that had rendered him speechless. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing. That was something you didn’t care to find out about.

“Different,” you answered for him instead, gripping your clutch as you stepped out. “So, uhm, should we get going?”

“Of course.”

That initial interaction had set the tone for your entire evening. The drive to the delicious restaurant was quiet with stolen glances. Ones solely focused on your hips and your thighs. You had hoped maybe things would settle down once you sat down to eat at the restaurant. But things only seem to progress into something more. Nanami’s eyes seemed to linger on other patrons at the restaurant who passed you by.

Maybe wearing this dress was a mistake. You felt exposed to your best friend in the entire world and anyone that passed by. You tried to focus on what Shoko had told you to envision when she pulled the dress from the back of your closet.

‘You’re a badass sexy bitch, own it!’

Yeah, owning it wasn't something you’d ever been comfortable doing. You had been a little thicker than others the entirety of your life. Dealing with that, being called names has taught you how to conceal yourself. If you wore all black and hid your supposed flaws behind layers of clothes, you would worry about anyone staring at you, which is exactly what everyone was doing.

Having people glance you over made your stomach sour as you tried to enjoy your food. You wanted to play it cool and make it look like nothing was wrong, but your attempts didn't go unnoticed. Nanami could see how you shifted; a visible unease etched into your pretty features.

That unease had you hugging yourself as you walked to the theater. You had hardly said a word to each other, and the tension felt thick. While you felt uncomfortable showing off so much, Nanami was beginning to think maybe you weren't having a good time. That's the last thing he wanted, so as you climbed the stairs heading toward your seats, Nanami stopped, tasting at your back.

Noticing he was no longer behind you, you stopped turning to look back at him. “Kento? Everything okay?” You tilted your head to the side, watching him look you up and down.

“No, l.” he quickly closed the small distance between you, gently grabbing your wrist and walking you to an empty part of the theater where no one was. “Everything isn't okay.” You opened your mouth to ask why he felt that way, but he beat you to it. “I'm sorry if asking you on this date has made things uncomfortable or weird for you.”

Date?

Wait, Shoko was right?! This really was a date?! Electricity shot went down your spine as your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. No words came to you as Nanami sighed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I’m sorry; I don't want you to feel as though you have to do this to appease me. We can see the show as friends and act like this nev—”

“No!” You yelled out, grabbing his hand and holding it. “No! I want this to be a date! I-I thought we were—going as friends.”

Nanami’s face relaxed as he looked down at your hand gripping his. ”I guess I wasn't as clear with my intentions as I thought.” Honey-brown eyes trailed over your exposed skin. “But may I ask you a question?” You nodded. “What’s made you so distant tonight.”

“Oh, I just haven't—I don't normally dress like this.” you motioned down to the silk dress, hugging your curves in all the right places. “And, I—ugh, it's silly.”

“It's not silly if it’s coming from you; please tell me, talk to me.”

“Well, you seemed stunned by my outfit. And you've been quiet all evening, staring at other people. So I thought maybe you were a bit embarrassed. I know I’m not the thinnest girl out there.”

In the blink of an eye, Nanami had you pushed against the nearest wall, out of sight from anyone who may pass you by. Both his large hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. You gasped, looking up to find a burning desire in his eyes that you had never seen before.

“Embarrassed? You seriously thought I was embarrassed?” His hand slowly trailed down your curves. “Darling,” he learned next to your mouth, the smell of wine and chocolate from dinner lingering on his breath. “I find you stunning. I'm more embarrassed by myself for letting my mind wander when it comes to how good you look in this dress. Do you know how hard it was to stop myself from gouging out the eyes of every man eye-fucking you at the restaurant?”

You began panting as his hand trailed lower, teasing the exposed skin that peeked out from the slit in the dress. “T-That’s why you were glaring n-nngh.” Nanami hooked his hand under your thigh, lifting it to actress your sensitive skin more freely.

“Yes, I couldn't stand the way they were undressing you right in front of me.” The warmth of his fingers sent shivers throughout your body. “But I’m afraid to admit I’m not better than them.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because I have wanted to do nothing more than kiss you since you opened your door this evening. Your curves, dress fit, and everything about you are stunning, no matter what you wear. But seeing you all dolled up for the first time had left me longing for you in primal ways.”

You hooked your foot around the back of his thigh, watching his warm eyes grow wide as you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss. Nanami moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he dug his fingers into the fat of your thigh, squeezing and massaging it. The tender, careless feel of his lips against yours had you whining into his mouth as his tongue caressed your bottom lip.

The kiss was searing, full of desire, as Kento found himself shamelessly rocking his hips against you, trying to close the thin layers of clothes between you. Each kiss, each careless set your skin ablaze with need, as the taste of chocolate and white wine felt like fermenting into an aphrodisiac. With each kiss, you fell deeper and deeper into the passion, leaving you feeling drunk.

Nanami broke the kiss, pulling back far enough that a string of saliva connected your lips. “T-That was unexpected.” He admitted, fingers trailing further up your leg.

“But was it good?”

“It was the best kiss I’ve ever shared with someone. So yes, it was unexpected but good.” The way Nanami’s hands roamed over you left you feeling overly sensitive as you gripped his upper arms. “You're so beautiful. God, I wish I could take you home and truly worship every inch of your body.”

“Well, the show only lasts two hours.”

“Which is going to feel like a millennium when you're sitting next to me looking like some kind of goddess.”

“Goddess?” You mischievously grinned, running your hand slowly down his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

Nanami grinned, squeezing your thigh before leaning next to your ear. “After this show, can I take you back to my apartment and show my devotion to you? Worship your body as if it were your temple?” You moaned, melting like butter against his chest.

“Yes, god, I would love that.”

“Good, I‘ll be sure to worship you thoroughly.”

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo had a problem with your butt, and that problem was that he was obsessed with it. Every time you reached for something, your best friend made it a point to grab a handful of your big ole booty and squeeze it, which didn't bother you. If anything, you were flattered that this six-three muscular man likes your ass.

Because Gojo was gorgeous, with tufts of pristine white hair, cerulean eyes that reminded you of the blues oceans, and lashes you would kill for, having someone like him rubbing your ass was a cnficmsence booster. You adored him and knew deep down inside that adoration for him would never grow into something else because you were just friends, nothing more.

Because you were a curvy queen, and Gojo was a gym rat. It didn't matter if that butt squeezes and long hugs often left you fantasizing about a more romantic relationship with him. You could dream and fantasize about that as long as you wanted, but that reality probably would never come to be.

But that wouldn't stop you from secretly praying and hoping for that reality to be manifested.

Most of your girlfriends supported you both; they tried to get you to ask him out, while his friends felt the same way as yours. All of your friends could see you both getting together. But not everybody was as kind.

“Hello, dearie!” You shifted the brown grocery bags in your arms as you turned to look at your elderly neighbor and her grandson getting on the elevator with you.

“Hi, how are you?” You smiled sweetly as the elevator began moving up to the fourth floor.

“Oh, we're doing great! Where’s that boyfriend of yours? The tall, handsome one.”

Hearing her call Gojo, your boyfriend, left you feeling butterflies as you shifted the bags again. “Oh, Toru? He’s at the gym, and we’re just—” Her grandson scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes

“They're not dating grandma.”

“Oh, sure they are!” She grinned, tilting her head to look up at her rude grandson. “What even makes you say they aren't?”

“He’s fit and handsome, and she's got a fat ass and a gut.”

You winced at the sting of his words as the elevator stopped on your floor. “Takashi!” Your neighbor snapped at the older man, rolling his eyes. “That was rude! She's a beautiful young woman, apologizes.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” He shrugged as the three of you stepped off of the elevator. “I just know you ain't my type. I don't like,” he gestured over to you, “this.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, I’m not into assholes myself.” You grinned sourly at the man before storming towards your apartment.

“Takashi!”

You ignored the pleading from your neighbor and the apologies she shouted. None of that shit mattered, not to you. You loved yourself and your body, and someday, you would find somebody who loved you for you. They would show up someday.

While you did your absolute best not to let the comments from the jerk bother you, your heart still aches as you put away your groceries. You hated men like him. Men who found it necessary to point out a woman’s flaws, to put them down.

It soured your mood, making you pout as you grumbled and shoved things in cabinets. You were fuming so much you barely heard the knock on your front or when the door unlocked courtesy of the spare key you had made. You didn’t realize anyone was there until hands grabbed your hips while loading the fridge. Fear rose in your throat as you began to scream, only to have a hand clasp over your mouth, silencing you.

“Easy, sweetheart! It’s just me.” The smooth, almost sultry voice had you relaxing as Gojo chuckled warmly behind you, his hand pulling away from your mouth. “You listening to music or something?” He questioned, dropping his chin on your shoulder to examine your ears, finding no earbuds.

“No.” You bluntly stated before pulling away from your best friend and shutting the door.

“Oof, someone’s angry.” The warmth of your best friend followed you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you as tight as he could. “Angry that you hadn’t seen me in a while~?”

Your anger faded as the smell of clean linen and musk invaded your senses. You found yourself melting into his touch, tilting your head back to ring him, staring down at you with big sparkly eyes that glimmered with amusement. No matter your mood, Satoru always seemed to make you feel better

“I’m fine—it was just a crappy day.”

Gojo hummed, pressing his lips together as he swayed with you. “I’m sorry, Sweetie; what made it so bad?” You hesitated before groaning, knowing if you were to tell him the truth, it most likely would end with him doing something irrational. But you also hated lying to your best friend.

“It was just a lot of running around, going to the store.” You sighed. “Plus, I just haven’t been feeling good.”

In the flash of an eye, you were whipped around and turned to face Satoru, whose hand reached up to feel your forehead. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, continuing to think if you had a fever. “You aren’t dizzy? Feeling sick, are you?” Your cheeks burned, losing yourself in the concerned look in his eyes.

“N-No, not like that, not like that at all.”

Gojo pulled his hand away, dropping it to his side. “Okay, then, what’s wrong?” he asked, watching you carefully. That careful gaze had you frowning as you sighed.

“I feel a bit bad about myself.” When your best friend copped an eyebrow at you as if you were speaking another language, you sighed, smacking his arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you feel bad about yourself.”

This time, you looked at him as if he was speaking some alien language. The man was cut out of a magazine. he was over six-feet tall had the most beautiful eyes, and he was handsome. There was no denying your best friend was good-looking. So, it only made sense that he wouldn’t understand how some people have insecurities about themselves.

Gesture vaguely towards his body, moving your hand up and down as you focus on the mirror behind him. The last thing you wanted to make contact with him at the moment. Because he might not be secure about himself, he can read you like a damn book.

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like. You’re molded out of clay and given life by the gods themselves.” you moved your hand, gesturing to yourself. “I’m just curvy beyond all means. Unfortunately, not a lot of people are into that kind of thing. They don’t like a girl that’s bigger than them.”

Silence grew between you both as you tried to focus your attention on the mirror. Seeing him in such a state was shocking, but it was even more surprising to have him grab both your arms, squeezing them reassuringly.

Your mouth felt dry, and the room seemed to close in around itself as Gojo bent down closer to your height. In this situation, you weren't able to look away; Satoru made sure of that. You were stuck right where you stood, having to stare into the eyes of your best friend.

“Who said that?” he asked, in a tone that could freeze hell over.

“W-What?”

“I asked who said that load of bullshit to you so I can kick their ass.”

You flushed, shaking your head, not wanting him to beat up your neighbor's grandson, but the idea of it had you pressing your thighs together. Seeing your hesitant reaction left Gojo with a twisting sensation in his stomach. He knew something had been wrong when he wrapped his arms around you. Normally, you were touchy-feely, wanting to climb him like a tree, but today, you had been hesitant and standoffish, something he didn't like seeing you deal with.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Toru—it isn't that—”

He gave you a firm shake. “It is a big deal! Especially when somebody hurts you.” With a heavy sigh, you reached up gently, placing your hand on the upper arm.

“Ugh, my neighbor thought we were dating, and I tried to tell her we weren’t, but her grandson beat me to it saying we aren’t dating. Because you're handsome, and I have a fat ass and a gut.”

“That—”

“I know its craz—”

“Motherfucker!” Gojo dropped his hands off your arms and growled, storming around the kitchen. You were too stunned to speak, just watching him closely as he grumbled and kept looking at the door that led out of your apartment, “I should kick his ass! I really should! That dick!”

You blinked several times, watching as the white-haired man fumed. “W-Wait, you're angry about him saying that about me?” That got Gojo to stop as he turned to gawk at you. “What?! I'm just shocked you'd care about that; I thought you’d be more embarrassed over the face his grandma assumed we were dating.” Your genuine shock and concern made Gojo grip the counter as he shook his head.

“The only person that doesn't think we're dating is you. Because God, I don't know how much more obvious I can be with you over the fact that I want to date you.”

“Y-You wanna date me?” You repeated back to him in stunned shock. “S-Since when?!”

“Since forever!” Gojo laughed out loud, shaking his head as he cock his brow at you. “I'm always over here, hugging you, telling you how much you mean to me. But every time I try to make a move, you toss me in the friend zone.

The words from your neighbor's grandson invaded your ears as Satoru stepped closer to you. “B-But I'm curvy, I have a gut!”

“And I love your curves and your tummy.” You stood still, allowing Gojo to cup your cheek gently. “Everything about you is perfect in my eyes. I wouldn't change a damn thing about you. Except for moving you away from that piece of shit.”

Your heart began to race at his confession, leaving you inching closer towards him. “Y-You're being serious right now. Are you not messing with me?” Gojo rolled his eyes so hard you could hear them roll into the back of his head.

“Sweetheart, I've been serious about you for years. You just were too blind to see that.”

For all these years, you'd always thought that Satoru was just overly affectionate with you. Knowing there was a legitimate reason for him constantly caressing you and talking sweetly to you, all of your insecurities faded as you felt his eyes roaming over your skin. You could tell he was serious. He wanted you.

“Maybe you could be a bit more direct with me then.”

“Oh? You want me to be more direct?”

Gojo wanted you to nod your head before he lifted you up and off the ground, placing you on the counter before kissing you deeply. Your eyes went wide at the sudden kiss, but you slowly found yourself melting into it, your hand gripping his tank top. You kissed him back with as much passion. Seeing that sort of expression, feeling your hands on him, only fueled the need in him.

Gojo growled as he grabbed your thighs, kneading them with a groan as he seeped the kiss. “You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He whispered against your swollen lips. “All these other boys are stupid.” You moaned happily as he trailed his hand up further, sliding them. “Which I’m so thankful for.” He trailed kisses along your jaw with a sigh. “God, I really wanna beat his ass for making the prettiest girl in my world feel like that,” he pulled back, glancing back at the door. “I really should go beat his ass.”

“I have a better idea” you grabbed his chin forcing him to look into your eyes this time. “How about you put your lips back on mine, and you kiss me and make up for lost time since I was so blind.”

Gojo grinned, picking you off the counter and carrying you to the couch, where he dropped you. He took a chance to look at all your beautiful curves. “God, you are so right.” He crawled on top of you, relishing in the way you whined and shivered. “We have lots of time to make up for, so you better clear your schedule because you are all mine until we’re both knocked out.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

823 notes · View notes

nathaslosthershit · 1 month ago

Text

Passenger Princess Piastri (OP81)

Summary: Oscar hates driving outside of F1, you are sick of driving him everywhere and have tried everything to curb his obsession with being a passenger princess, but you may have stumbled upon a new method of making him get behind the wheel. (Aka Oscar's wife finds a new upside to her pregnancy)

'Oh having a husband who races cars for a living must be so nice, you have a built in personnel driver!'

Unfortunately, you are dating Oscar Piastri, a man who has trained in the art of guilting you into driving.

It was always something new, 'I don't like driving on the streets in anywhere but Australia', 'i have been driving all weekend, can't you just take the reins this one time', 'I know it is summer break, but you look so hot behind the wheel, I just want to appreciate my pretty wife while I have her with me'.

And you gave in, every time. It got to the point where he didn't even ask, just happily hopped into the passenger seat while you'd sigh and get behind the wheel.

But it had to to end. Oscar's reign as passenger princess had turned into a passenger queen, and you were going to force him to abdicate.

It started with little things; not joining him on errands you didn't need to go on, putting so much stuff in the passenger seat he had to sit in the back, not unlocking the car until he moved.

It worked well, but unfortunately he eventually caught on to all of your ways and found loopholes. He'd beg, and beg, and beg for you to go on errands with him, he knew if he could produce a few tears and a line about how much he loves doing these little domestic tasks with you, you'd give in. He would just move your stuff, all of it, or if he thought ahead, stuff so many things into the back you 'couldn't possible expect him to go back there'. He would just wait, and wait, and wait until you unlocked the car, doesn't matter if you had time sensitive plans, he would happily arrive late in the passenger seat, he'd even blame it on you.

This back and forth lasted years, he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, but neither were you.

When your first thought upon seeing the positive pregnancy test was that you were going to milk this for all its worth and make sure the next 9 months + were passenger seat filled for you, maybe you should have reevaluated the situation, clearly it had gone too far.

You felt better though when you saw the same realization hit Oscar soon after you told him the news.

"Yep! You are not getting a free ride for a very long time, honey." You said, giddy at the look of despair on your husband's face.

"Please, come on, don't you think thats dramatic? You are pregnant, not incapacitated."

"You are so hypocritical to call me dramatic! You drive for a living, Oscar, yet you force your beautiful and amazing wife to drive you around as your personal chauffeur! You did this to me, and now you have got to pay the piper my friend."

"Wouldn't I be the piper in this case?" He was trying to distract you with a dirty joke, and damn it almost worked.

"No, because I am playing you, lovie. Plus, I am holding precious cargo now, don't think I won't call your mom or sisters to yell at you if you try to make me drive."

You felt victorious as you saw all the fight leave his eyes. Maybe it was cruel to use your pregnancy against your husband to force him to do a task he hated doing. Maybe it was evil to feel giddy about how you now had a new method of getting him to drive you places. You weren't saying you'd get pregnant again in the future just to win this ridiculous stand-off you two had, but it was definitely an added bonus.

A/N: I don’t know what this is guys I just sat down and wrote something I had no preconceived plans I just knew my Oscar girlies were hungry and needed to be fed

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine

754 notes · View notes

radio-fmm · 2 months ago

Text

The phrase “silence is louder than words” never meant anything to Sanji

Until now

You have been quiet. Terribly so. For the last 20 minutes and it’s driving him insane. Somehow he has missed you during this time, even if you’re sitting just a couple steps away

Your eyes are glued to your notebook, a steady hand that clenches at the poor pencil glides thorough the page. Usually, you enjoy this activity, a twinkle in your eye that hangs brightly illuminating the room. But now… you wear a pout, a scowl, eyebrows looking down in anger. Steam almost comes out your ears

You’re upset

I mean, clearly, but Sanji still hasn’t build up the courage to ask what’s going on. Because he knows the answer

When you started dating the cook, you knew his tendencies with women wouldn’t just disappear. But it didn’t made you happy either

You had talked about his behavior several times, asking for nothing more than respect which is the bare minimum really. Sanji had dramatically stated that he had no eyes for no other than his sweet angel which, was true in a way

So when you turned around in the market and spotted him salivating at a belly dancer that just happened to be nearby you weren’t surprised

But you also weren’t thrilled

Sanji adores you. You’re his light, his angel, his rock, his goddess, his life . He would do anything for you, hell, he’ll bring down the stars above if you just asked. But who wouldn’t feel insecure after their partner looks at another woman like that?

He hates himself for it, he’ll allow you to spit and step on him like gum if that’s what grant him your forgiveness. He needs to change. He knows it, he will do it a thousand times over, just for you

Slowly, he makes his way to sit in front of you, your movements come to a halt as you heard him plop down onto the chair, but you don’t spare him a glance

Ouch

“Hi” his voice comes out strained, frightened

You remain frozen, thinking on what to do… lash out? Curse at him? Stay quiet for another hour? Leave?

You just answer

“Hi”

A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine at your answer, the sound of your voice making him giddy, oh how has he missed you

“You’re mad”

“How observant”

“At me”

“Clearly”- finally, your eyes leave your page and find Sanji’s. He looks pale like a ghost, breathing irregular as he awaits his destiny

There’s another silence, this one is different, your annoyed tone sits on top of it leaving a sour taste behind your tongues, a silence that resembles a ticking bomb

“I am sorry” the cook fidgets with his hands, eyes pooling slightly at the thought of what will you do

“Your apology means nothing to me, actions speak for themselves Sanji…” your gaze is heavy, nothing like he usually meets it. You’re so light like the sea breeze, like a fresh lemonade drink on a sweet sunny day. Right now? You burn, hot like a spicy hot sauce that makes your nose run

You shake your head and sigh, a long tired one that makes Sanji’s heart tear at the seams

“I just don’t understand you Sanji… I would never do that to you”

This, this is the moment where you defeat him. Your sad puppy eyes looking up at him, the hurt behind your voice and the truth. Oh the truth of it all breaks him completely, of course you wouldn’t do that to him, you’re the most loyal kindhearted beautiful human being on earth

He swallows

Sanji considers throwing himself overboard for the sea kings to devour him whole, and that still wouldn’t be enough

He suddenly gets up and holds both your hands with such tenderness as he kneels before you

An offering at your benevolent temple

“My love, I know I did wrong and disrespected you and our relationship. No fancy sweet words could ever make a difference. So now I promise you, not empty promise but real this time, that I will change to he the man you deserve”

You shake your head once more. You don’t believe him? Are you finally done with him? There’s nothing he can do I if you decide to do so because he messed up big time

“I know I deserve better” Sanji closes his eyes and scrunches his nose at the statement, your voice drilling through his head and making him dizzy

It hurts, because it’s true

“But I don’t want better on anyone else but you”

His head that had dropped raises to find your face, you’re still mad, but even mad you offer him another chance while holding his hand through it all. Because that’s who you are, you believe in him, you trust him

“This is the last time-“

“Yes! Yes! I promise you my angel, you can kick me out of the crew If I ever even glance at the opposite direction of you, I will be better”

“Sanji” another shiver runs up and down his form, he loves the way you say his name

“Hurting my feelings and getting my forgiveness every single time is not okay. I would only continue to be with you if you show me change”

His golden locks rise and fall rapidly as he shakes bis head up and down. Carefully, he takes your left hand and kisses the promise ring atop of one of your fingers, a reminder of his undying love and devotion

A reminder that your love is stronger than anything else. Even jealousy and disrespect

The cold material meeting his lips makes him giddy. You’re way too good, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you

“I am sorry, so deeply sorry sweetheart, and I’ll repay you being the best man, your man”

A giggle scapes you at the absurdity of it all. You don’t know when had Sanji wrapped you around his finger. If it were anyone else you would’ve walked a long time ago

But you know him, at his core, he needs you

And you love him, and he does too

Nami scoffs loudly making Robin laugh covering her mouth as to not drawn any attention, they can’t see your face but they can imagine both of you on the other side of the door

“I swear she forgives him too easy”

“Love is work” Robin says, whispers to the wind and Nami hates it

Because it’s true

#one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sanji oneshot #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #op sanji #one piece one shot #he will be good i promise #that’s just how he is #fanfic

443 notes · View notes

nhoirr · 9 months ago

Text

It was the year of spring when you got the most lamest confession you've ever heard.

all from a man you'd never expect—nobody ever did expect that GOJO SATORU had the time and capacity to fall in love.

what a surprise, because he was too.

"go out with me," he states more than questioning.

like a giddy normal teenager that was not the most handsome man in the world—the, gojo satoru asked you out.

infront of everyone; without shame, oh but full of smugness that makes you want to reject him just to see his pride fall.

but perhaps the from shocking event did the thought not come to you that day, not when the pressure was all time high.

"This.." you start and the crowd quivers in their boots, boys and girls alike already demanding their victory from the bet, "this is what you greet me with after ignoring me for weeks, satoru?" the said man stiffens with his posture, and as if the bouquet of flowers he held felt the shift of the atmosphere—it dramatically wilted.

"oh, c'mon that was just—" he knew reasoning was futile when he gulps the words down his throat again, catching the way you glare.

and you spin your heel around. guessing with how he hangs his head low, you think he's discouraged enough to let it go and take the rejection.

but the man you knew was always so annoying, so stubborn.

you hear a call of your name but you don't snap your head like your-all-time-secret-is-out kind of surprise, but it's because the dumbest man spoke the dumbest words you've ever heard.

"I, the heir of the gojo clan, am insanely inlove with you!"

the crowd goes eerily silent, like time was frozen but not in a romantic way. It was embarrassingly awkward that you could hear the sound of a pin drop.

"what?" you spat out in disbelief, not comprehending his words and he takes it as another sign to repeat himself to you.

"I lik—" you stop him from talking by slapping a hand to his mouth, glowing eyes shimmering with the brightest smile known to man, "yes yes, don't repeat yourself!" you exclaim almost immediately.

your breath hitches in your throat the moment you feel his hand grasp your wrist, the one that covered his mouth and he points a finger to speak, muffled by your hand, "dso yu asekpt?" you could faintly make out the words he said—do you accept?

it syncs with the voice echoing at the back of your head ever since he confessed.

and yet, the answer always remained the same.

so you drop your hand from his mouth, catching the way his eyes follow your every move—perhaps enough to notice the hesitation, and he worries for the words you'll speak with such an expression.

quickly he starts before you speak, "Its fi—"

"I like you," he gets cut off, jaw slacked and unmoving in shock.

he blinks once or twice, but the crowd reacts before he can, waking him enough to respond back.

with a lopsided grin and dusted cheeks, he speaks again too—he thinks could be lost to the noise of the crowd, but with how close you were, he thinks you'll be able to hear even a whisper.

"I like you too."

©nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!

thanks for tuning in for another episodic brain riot of mine that goes no where!

want more? check out navigation for latest posts. <33 (shameless self-plug because.)

962 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 2 years ago

Text

Language Of Love

AlHaitham X GN! Reader

“‘Italics’” = he’s speaking another language

“So.. you can speak 20 languages?”

A random conversation.

It was easy to guess how you got to this point, boredom.

Spending time with your.. acquaintance, who you may or may not have a crush on, wasn’t on your agenda today, but here you are - sitting on a chair in his office as he effortlessly scribbles down sophisticated words onto parchment.

The sound was certainly pleasing to the ears, skrch sccrch sckrch.

You had no clue what he was doing. Oh, the duty of a scribe..

Or why you even came here..

No.

You knew why you came here, to spend time with him, as a friend only. Or maybe you were less than friends. It was hard putting a label on things when it came to the emotionally stunted AlHaitham. He was almost as bad as the General Mahamatra.

You just forgot how boring spending time with him can be if he’s busy working, thus leading you to flip through one of the many books on his bookshelf.

Yeah, you quickly got bored of that too.

These weren’t story books, they were informative books. You suppose to a man like him who enjoyed learning, this was like being surrounded by candy. To you? Its like being surrounded by encyclopedias.

He probably reads encyclopedias for fun.

So here you were, starting a conversation on a little fact you heard an academia student mutter like it was a piece of gossip even though it was probably outlined somewhere.

“Yes,” The scratching of quill to paper continues even as he glances up at you for a split second, “It’s important for scholars to broaden their knowledge and fluency of languages as to not hinder important research that may be written in a different dialect.”

All of Teyvat spoke the same language, it was easy to wonder why everyone from ancient times suddenly decided to switch. Of course you wouldn’t ask him such a thing, not right now anyway.

You had a plan.

A plan to woo this man.

The many failed attempts before can not hinder you.

Smugly, you said to him, “I bet I know one language you can’t speak.”

Oh, you were already giddy.

Curiosity peaked, his scribbling halted, eyes on you, “Is that so?” He was eager to hear you answer.

Whether you were toying with him, or genuinely knew a language he could add to his list, he was willing to listen.

“Do tell.”

Clearing your throat, you sat up straight and gave him a cocky smile, “The language of love.”

You were met with silence, as expected.

He was starstruck, surely. In awe. Was he wooed?

You could easily speak up with the punchline after his response, oh!! You would say, ‘but I can teach you!!’

Oh, he’s about to respond! He’s-!

“You must be referring to the ancient Fontaine language used by higher class citizens, commonly known to scholars as the language of love due to how words would ‘roll off the tongue like silk’ when speaking it.“

–an idiot? You were gobsmacked.

And he was smirking on the inside.

“I’m surprised you know of this language, you must have learned something from one of the books you’ve flipped through in the library.”

“That’s not,”

“I can even demonstrate it for you.”

“Wait!”

You began to fluster as he indeed began speaking a language completely foreign to your ears.

He was right, the words did flow silkily. This did not make you feel any better. Your pickup line failed miserably.

“‘You are so adorable, trying to trick me like this.’”

You can’t help but pout, wondering just what he was saying.

“‘Look at you, cheeks flushed and puffed like a fish. Honestly, how am I supposed to work efficiently if you’re here distracting me.’”

“Aw come on,” You began to complain, frowning at the gloating male, “I can’t understand you, y’know.”

“‘I do wonder if you’re aware that I know you like me, you wear your heart on your sleeves, my dear,’” he smiles ever so slightly, which completely unnerves you, “‘I like you too.’”

His cheek rests on his knuckles as he leans back and observes your frustration. Oh, how happy he was you brought this up. Any chance to show off his ability and confess without you knowing is always a good opportunity.

He’d shower you in compliments and confessions in all 20 languages if he had the time, perhaps even spill secrets to your unknowing ears.

Oh, how he would like that. He could say his deepest, darkest desires and you’d only look at him with confusion.. maybe even annoyance.

The thought pleased the busy scholar.

“That’s so mean you know, am I supposed to look up your words in a dictionary or something?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be in a dictionary.” He reaches forward and tugs at your cheek, elation swirling in his broad chest as you whine and swat at his large arm.

“Should you remind me at a later date,” when he’s finally made you his, of course, “I’ll happily tell you what I said.”

“How about right now.”

“It is not a later date, only the time has changed.” Breathing out a sigh, faking annoyance, he turns his attention back to his paperwork, picking back up his quill.

“Ok, so I can ask you tomorrow.”

“You can, however, I’m under no obligation to tell you until I want to.”

“I dislike you very much, Scribe.” You grumbled, settling back in your seat.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m sure you do, ‘sweetheart.’”

#alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #x reader #gn! reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

5K notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 7 months ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart.

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment.

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week.

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines.

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other.

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal.

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past.

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past!

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile.

YOU: i hate you

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do.

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer.

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?”

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms.

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead.

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in.

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.”

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.”

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place.

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back.

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.”

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider.

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream.

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence.

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?”

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?”

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.”

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other.

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week.

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues.

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.”

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line.

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously.

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends.

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?”

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?”

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications.

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius.

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night?

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest.

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now.

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine.

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come.

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him.

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable?

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen.

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you.

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“I could say the same about you.”

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.”

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?”

“It’s for safety.”

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?”

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.”

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.”

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of.

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized.

“We can go helmet shopping another day.”

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you.

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that.

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy.

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street.

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again.

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?”

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.”

“You say that to every girl you bring here?”

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.

“Only the prettiest ones.”

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week.

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you.

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him.

The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you.

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy.

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his.

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver.

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race.

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.”

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands.

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch.

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide.

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away.

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.”

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.”

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me?

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.”

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?”

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows.

“Does it really matter?”

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking.

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him.

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on.

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse.

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light.

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.”

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away.

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.”

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?”

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?”

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.”

“Like you have been?”

“Burn in Hell.”

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill.

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish.

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen.

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of.

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.”

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends?

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends?

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that.

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again.

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.”

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.”

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.”

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist.

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly.

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.”

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce.

“I did.”

“I believe you.”

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much.

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much.

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.”

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play.

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead.

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song.

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember.

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot.

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you.

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?”

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.”

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?”

“Maybe.”

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer.

You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him.

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly.

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care.

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him.

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up.

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter.

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.”

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter.

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others.

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet.

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply.

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were.

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer.

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.”

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.”

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.”

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time.

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile.

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind.

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing.

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect.

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.”

“I have an answer.”

“You sound very sure there, big guy.”

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though.

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness.

“Yeah. Dating.”

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye.

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating.

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him.

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it.

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.”

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.”

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed.

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #beyond the hours #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest #i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves #i might revamp the masterlist #also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike #eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her

550 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 11 months ago

Text

The door closes with a bump of your hip and toss your keys into the bowl. The mumble of the television carries through the hall, marked by the sudden, shaky sound of a cough. You slip off your shoes and walk into the living room, knowing he'll be exactly where you left him.

Kuroo is the epitome of pathetic. Dressed in only his pj pants, he's sprawled across the couch, limbs limply hanging over the sides. Used tissues are scattered on his chest and another one is stuffed into his chapped nose; it bobs as he turns to you and sighs.

"Hey, sicky." You muss his hair before dotting a kiss against his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful. Horrible." Kuroo's voice is starting to come back, but it's still mostly scratches and jumps. "Worse than death."

It's the flu - he'll be fine in a couple of days. "Poor thing."

"Yeah, I am a poor thing." Kuroo clutches your hands with the voracity of a dying Dicken's character. "I'm supposed to be in America right now. America, baby. The home of deep-fried twinkies."

You do feel a little bad; he was really looking forward to this work trip, but his company didn't want to put a sick man on a plane.

"There'll be other trips," you try, "And other unhealthy smacks."

"Sigh." He says the actual word. "Sigh. And it's so boring here without you. I cleaned the fridge so I didn't die of boredom."

You go to coo again, then pause.

"Wait, really?" You had been putting that off longer than you'd like to admit.

"Yeah, I did the whole kitchen." He sighs again. "And the bathroom."

"The whole bathroom?"

"Even the floor."

Oh. Your heart flutters a bit. You had been lamenting over having to scrub the floor. Kuroo is a good partner, but he's never been one to clean on his own volition. Hell, you can barely get him to pick his laundry off of the floor. The fact that he cleaned without being asked...

You're a little giddy over it.

"Would taking a bath in our clean bathroom make you feel better?" You push his bangs to the side and watch them bounce back.

"I already took a shower today."

Your fingers trail down to his neck. "Would taking a bath with me make you feel better?"

"Are you horny right now?" He points to the tissue jammed into his nostril. "Really?"

"I'm a simple woman: you clean my house and my pussy gets wet."

He barks out a laugh, only to cut himself off with a wheezing coughing fit. When he finally catches his breath, his poor little eyes are red rimmed and wet.

"I'm too sick to give you a good performance."

You debate kissing him, then think better of it.

"Don't worry," you say, "I'll do the work."

Kuroo cackles softer this time, toothy grin biting into his lower lip.

"Can we do that thing you never let me do?"

"Let's see how clean the bathroom is - then, we'll talk."

#he didnt get his deepfried twinkie but he got his twinkie deep throated

792 notes · View notes

qtkoshi · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears.

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ?????

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ )

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobart brown x reader #hobie۫ ִ✮#this was so cute hehe #thank you anon #!!!!!

2K notes · View notes

exhaslo · 10 months ago

Note

Ok ok soooo what if you did like a fasion designer y/n and she is helping Miguel redesign his suit then like as she is measuring him or something she notices he is hard and like ✨smut✨

Oh, reader will take the measurements alright. Hopefully they can remember it *wink wink*

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), slow sex, mirror sex

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

"How did this happen?! I specifically remember both of us working on this suit, making it nearly impossible to tear!" You yelled towards a poor, nervous Peter.

"To be fair...It wasn't one of my villains."

"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't know heroes could villain swap! Who the hell did you trade with? The Guardians of the Galaxy?" You scoffed, holding the destroyed suit in your hands.

"Easy, (Y/N), only I can bully them this much." Miguel said as he walked into your office, "You also have to remember, he's new."

"Which is why I helped him with the suit." You hissed lowly and tossed it back to the Peter, "You get to remake it. When done, I want to know who the hell you fought that tore the suit to shreds."

"..."

Peter kept quiet as he slowly made his way out of your office. The silence was more than enough for you to start assuming shit. Inhaling deeply, you walked over to your espresso machine and made both you and Miguel a cup of coffee.

"You know the work you do is above all," Miguel hummed as he took a seat on your couch. You gave him a pout,

"But it's never enough. How am I supposed to be helping you all make suits if they never hold up after a few fights?"

"They're not supposed too," Miguel reassured you, "Only special conditions like my original suit can withstand such events."

"But you won't let me touch the stuff."

"It's unstable for a reason." Miguel said with a heavy sigh and approached you from behind, "But, like everyone else. I need to upgrade my suit."

"Oh? No more blue and red?!" You gasped in shock, then grabbed his hands, "Ohhhhh, does this mean-"

"Yes, I'm letting you help me make a new suit."

You jumped with joy, nearly squealing at the thought of helping Miguel. The man liked to keep his toys to himself. That, and you would finally get a chance to measure him. There was a glint in your eyes as you observed him.

Miguel was a FINE man. Compared to all of the Spiders, he was definitely your type. When Miguel first approached you with the intension of making super hero suits, you nearly drooled at the thought. You loved a challenge.

And Miguel was your new target.

"So, when can I take the measurements?" You asked, handing Miguel a cup of coffee. Miguel raised a brow,

"I can have Lyla send them over-"

"Seriously? What the hell am I supposed to be here for then?" You huffed, giving Miguel a glare.

"Fine. Is tomorrow alright?"

"It's a date."

-------

Miguel was internally screaming as he sat in his office, staring at you on the cameras. The thoughts he had about you. The things you did to him. Miguel had a damn good reason why he never went to you for his suits. You brought out the worst of him.

Even now, the thought of you being up close to him was turning Miguel on. He was going to have to take precautionary measures in order not to lose control.

"Fuck."

--------

Today was the day. You had your morning coffee, your best outfit and your best panties attitude. No one was going to disturb you today. Your office was closed to everyone expect Miguel. This was the chance of a lifetime.

Getting your station and measurements ready, you just smiled from ear to ear. Your notepad was set aside, ready for you to take down Miguel's numbers.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" Miguel asked as he entered. You hurried over and locked the door,

"The chance of a lifetime is mine. Get your ass up on my stage! We begin with your chest!" You cheered. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he took his shirt off,

"At least one of us is enjoying this."

You were giddy with glee as you approached Miguel. Your gaze against his chest as you started to take his measurements. You could not lie, being this close to him was driving you crazy. His cologne smelled so good too.

You hummed quietly to yourself as your fingers stroked his chest. Every now and then you grabbed your pencil and wrote in your small notepad. Moving down to his hips, you kept your focus. Miguel's body was just perfect.

"(Y/N)...Maybe we should take a break," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Not yet," You muttered.

Your hands rested against the rim of his pants, reading the numbers on your measuring tape. Adjusting the tape, you leaned down in front of Miguel and felt your face burn up. His hard erection was right in front of your face.

"Ah-" Your eyes widen and without thinking, "Should I measure this too?"

"If you want," Miguel whispered.

Both of you weren't thinking.

Your fingers gripped Miguel's boxers, slowly pulling them down. Your attention was focused on his large, thick cock. With a gulp, you grabbed your measuring tape and wrapped it around his meaty shaft. A shudder ran down your spine, before you checked the length.

"Is this...proper...length?" You whispered, your fingers wrapped around his dick, "Or should I-"

"You should," Miguel groaned lowly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your panties as you leaned towards Miguel's dick. Your tongue gently swirling around his tip, listening to his low groans and grunts. You glanced at the mirrors all around you, the sight turning you on more.

You were on your knees with Miguel's dick in your mouth. Inhaling through your nose, you leaned forward and started to suck his dick. Your hands resting against his hips as you bobbed your head back and forth. His thick shaft hitting the back of your throat.

Your panties grew damper as you felt Miguel's bitter precum start to go down your throat. His hands gripping onto your hair as he started to move your mouth faster. The sheer length of his dick was starting to burn your throat as you gripped his hips.

"Fuck, hn, (Y/N)!" Miguel hissed.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you tried to touch yourself. Unable to handle the burning sensation anymore, you pulled away from Miguel, panting heavy. Quickly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him.

Miguel was quick to follow as he nearly tore your pants, tossing them across the room. His talons ripping your panties as he started to rub his dick against your wet cunt.

"Hah~ You owe me...new underwear and pants now," You moaned, pressing your body against his. Miguel grunted as he pressed you against one of the mirrors,

"You wanted to take my measurements," He hissed, pressing his thick cock inside you.

"Hn~ Mhm~ Y-You wanted a suit,"

"I still do," Miguel hummed, sitting his dick nice and deep inside your tight velvet walls, "Do you still remember my size?"

"O-Of course!" You huffed, glancing at yourself in the mirror, "Y-You're way too big."

"Haha, but look how well you take me,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel lifted your body closer to his. He spread your legs, allowing you to see his cock deep inside your dripping pussy. The sight alone was making you hot. With a slow thrust, you moaned, nearly shaking in his grip.

"Sucking me in so well," Miguel sucked against your neck as he continued his slow, yet rough thrusts, "This was why I didn't want you to measure me."

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You should have, mhm~ let me, oh god~" You cried out, feeling yourself about to cum.

"You're right, I should have. Look at how perfect your pussy is sucking my dick in," Miguel grunted.

Turning your face to the mirror in front, you moaned as Miguel slapped his dick back inside you. Your eyes rolled back as you cam, crying out as he kept his slow thrusts. Miguel's hands gripped your breasts, pinching your nipples as he hummed against your ear,

"Do you still remember my measurements?"

"D-Deep~"

You trembled as your pussy fluttered against his dick. Miguel chuckled in response and pressed your body against the mirror, rubbing your clit as he moved even more slowly. You cried, begging for him to go faster.

"Not until you tell me my measurements."

"P-Perfect!" You cried out, moving your own hips, "S-So deep! S-So big ah~"

"Hm, good enough,"

You cried loudly as Miguel's pace finally fasten. His dick slamming against your cervix, causing you to cream and suck his cock more. Your body shaking as your juices started to stain your floor. Miguel grunted as he pulled you closer, reaching his own high.

"Want to watch me fill this pretty little pussy?" Miguel groaned. You nodded,

"Yes!"

Lifting you back up, Miguel held your legs open. His had you staring in the mirror with him, watching your own fucked out expression contort in pleasure. You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit once more, watching you cum against his cock once more.

You cried and leaned back, but Miguel kept your face towards the mirror. You gasped and moaned as he slapped himself once more inside you, filling you with his cum. Both of you took a minute to catch your breathe before Miguel set you down,

"Are you alright? Let me clean you up," Miguel said worriedly. You grabbed his hand,

"I may have forgotten your measurements."

"Oh?" Miguel said with a low chuckle. You glanced up at him, cheeks red with embarassment,

"I think I need a reminder."

"As many times as you need."

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

I'll take his measurements any day. I mean hope you enjoyed!! Haha

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

734 notes · View notes

wheneclipsefalls · 4 months ago

Text

Grovel Part 3

Pairing: Aged up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Grovel Masterlist

Warnings: aged up characters, past cheating, angst, mentions of blood, trauma, nightmares, description of injuries and death, war flashbacks, fear, swearing, drinking, etc.

Summary: Lo'ak is everywhere all at once.

A/N: Sooo...a little unsure about how the writing quality of this turned out but I hope you enjoy anyways. oh also I really don't know how or why I made this chapter so long haha

“And that speech…” Talu paused to give a wistful sigh. Words were not necessary to convey how romantic she thought Lo’ak’s courting proposal was. “Sister I can only hope for the same from Neteyam soon.” The sparkling grin she threw your way proved to be anything but envious, cheeks tinting into a happy shade.

Your own returned smile was mediocre at best, fingers still running over the mysterious pieces of your new top. No, of your new courting gift. That would never stop feeling strange, especially knowing it had come from a man that you had written off as a memory so long ago. If Talu sensed your apprehension, she didn’t show it. Nothing could stop her giddy babbling as she went about straightening your shared kelku.

“I admit, I would not have guessed Lo’ak to be the first of the two to profess such feelings but then again this is my sister we are talking about.” Her eyes shined with pure admiration and love. “He would be a true skxawng to not tuck away his childish hesitations in favor of chasing such a gem.”

“Talu-” You go to reprimand her dramatics but it falls on deaf ears.

“And just think, with any luck our matings could coincide and then before you know it our children will be learning to hunt together. We could even create a connected kelku. I’ve seen a few families do it before!”

“Is that not a little much?”

Talu squealed, feet kicking like a small child. It was hard to cut off such ramblings when she was in this state. So truly disconnected from the judgments of others, letting her joy flow from her without reserve.

“It is like becoming sisters all over again. Double sisters even. Or…” She paused thoughtfully. “However you say it.”

“I don’t think there is such a term.” You muttered, tucking away the healing ointments into a basket. That sparkling top still lay across the floor of the marui. It had no place in your home, or at least you didn’t know where it would be. Even heaped across the floor it felt far too grand in this humble abode.

“How have you not tried it on?” Talu gasped, kneeling down to carefully collect the garment as if handling a rare gem. “Go on! It will look dazzling on you, I know it!”

You reared back, fingers twirling nervously away from where she offered it to you.

“I don’t know if I will.”

“Why not?” Talu’s head tilted to the side, tail dashing back and forth in anticipation. “Don’t worry about breaking it. I can help you get it on carefully.”

A small smile curved at her kind invitation but you no longer knew how else to respond to her new enthusiasm. You had no interest in explaining and consequently reliving the events of you and Lo’ak’s history but neither did you want her fantasy of your twinned mating to blow out of proportion.

“What I mean is I don’t know if I will wear it at all. Lo’ak’s courting…well…I don’t think I will accept.”

Her ears dropped immediately, eyes widening as her tail came to a halt. Talu didn’t wait for an explanation.

“I do not understand. Was his presentation not…sufficient?”

You were shaking her head before she even finished. Scrambling back down to your knees to meet her at eye level.

“No, of course it was but…I am not sure whether or not I would like to accept his courting in general. Lo’ak can be very…” You paused, searching for the right words that would get her desperate attention off of you while properly masking the past. “Annoying,” you finished lamely.

“Annoying?!” A laugh of disbelief coated the word. Her tail swooped up slightly and a spark of hope surfaced again. “By Eywa, what are you talking about?”

You knew it was the wrong choice of words the second they left your mouth. Hoping to conceal your heated blush you hastened back into straightening the room.

“What do you mean by that?” She rephrased.

“Well Lo’ak has always been a little headstrong and…loud…and….oh he always called me names and pulled at my tail-”

It was difficult to continue now with Talu’s rampant giggling filling the room.

“All of those reasons are from when you were children. Of course he was not great for the nerves, no boy was at that time, but it has been years.” Amusement danced in her eyes, that level of disappointment already washed away. It’s not as if you could blame her truthfully. Your reasoning was lacking at best.

“Give the male a chance to show he has changed. If his appearance is anything to go off of then we know at least one thing has changed-”

“Talu!” You hissed, chucking a woven blanket at her. Your sister’s laughter did not subside as it made contact and she dramatically rolled to the floor. Despite her suggestive joke you couldn’t help but find her joy contagious and before you knew it both of you were bursting at the seams until your stomachs ached.

“Lo’ak has his work cut out for him. It will take more than pretty words and a few tattoos to win my sister.” She finally spoke once you were starting to catch your breath. There was no mistaking the pride in her tone. “As it should be.” She reassured you, placing a hand atop her head before exiting the kelku.

Neteyam’s proposal came mere days later. You wondered if part of the rush was due to being upstaged by his brother but that theory was set to the side when you witnessed Lo’ak’s helping hand in the festivities. He had been the one to set off the glowing plants at the end of Neteyam’s speech, painting eclipse in a vibrant glow that washed over the smiling couple. And when Talu had given her joyful, yet contained, acceptance, Lo’ak had smiled at you from the bushes.

Gifts came pouring in left and right, your front doorstep littered with fresh kills, baskets, berries, and woven ornaments every other day. Each gift was specifically marked from each brother, obvious that neither wanted the credit for their work to be placed on their sibling. It was almost humorous were it not for the guilt you felt in disposing of your gifts hastily.

Talu had given you a fair share of glares when you had passed off the neat meals to some neighboring families or tied small trinkets into some of the little girl’s hair in the village. No one knew that they were from the youngest Sully son but Talu’s disapproval was enough to make you hesitate at times. And yet, that first beautiful garment remained draped over your table at home without being touched for days.

Despite her common persuading, Talu often brushed off your resistance as your way of playing hard to get. The looks she would exchange with Neteyam when Lo’ak was brought up had your intuition sparking. You wouldn’t put it past your older sister to conspire with the eldest Sully son in the ways of helping Lo’ak woo you.

Those suspicions were borderline confirmed as the gifts switched to very specific items and fruits that caught your fancy. One morning in particular you had woken up to your mouth watering at the smell of peanut butter coming from the entrance. Such a rare delicacy that the Sully’s had introduced you to so many years ago, your senses had become quickly attuned to its pull.

So you ate it.

Tucked away in the corner of the marui where you could shovel it into your mouth without judgment, but you had eaten it all the same. And as the last glob of strange texture stuck to your tongue it was becoming harder and harder to feel guilty for indulging in the pleasure.

So you stopped.

From then on out when the gifts came you sorted them into trinkets that would be shoved away and repurposed to treats you would allow yourself to enjoy. Lo’ak dropped off meals so often that it became almost unnecessary to join communal dinner. Although you would never admit it, you couldn’t resist the slowly cooked meat or even the fish that he had seasoned and prepared in such a unique way you could only associate it with him. All the same, you let yourself have it.

After all, if he wanted to waste his time hunting and foraging for your delight every day that was his prerogative. And what you did with those free offerings was yours.

A bitter part of you couldn’t help but feel satisfied by the constant effort he was putting in. Perhaps this is what he truly deserved after breaking your heart. He could race across the forest every day trying to win your affections without result and maybe that would finally teach him to handle people’s hearts more carefully.

In any case, this obsession would subside sooner or later and he would be chasing after another girl. Until then, it seemed logical to enjoy the splendors while you could.

However it became increasingly more difficult to avoid his presence as the gifts poured in, especially in the company of others. Some days it felt as if Lo’ak was everywhere all at once. Helping a clan member move into their marui, joining the afternoon hunting party, taking notes at his father’s meetings. The list went on and on. It was more than you expected for the youngest son of the Olo’eyktan to have.

And Lo’ak never missed a day. You never woke to an empty threshold and he never stopped averting his attention your way no matter the situation. Even if some days all he could afford was a loving gaze, one that made your stomach turn itself inside out.

Your fingertips had grown wrinkly under the river’s current as you continued to scrubs at the cloth viciously. So many to get through cleaning for the healer’s tent before you could sufficiently rest from today’s labors. Still…you remembered a time where it was worse. So much worse.

It was never too late to count your blessings.

“The orange would look good!”

Your ears perked, recognizing the voice although it had changed over the years. Sweet Tuktirey emerged from the treeline, her older brother in tow. It was difficult to wrap your mind around how much the girl had grown since the Sully’s departure. Where once skipped a tiny optimistic child of sunshine now bloomed a beautiful young woman on the precipice of adulthood. Still only a teenager, Tuk had seen more than most people should in their early years.

It was a relief to find that the trials of war failed to dim her light.

“I don’t need another one.” Lo’ak insisted.

Your scrubbing intensified but your breath held. Perhaps they wouldn’t see you.

“Just a small one right here.” Tuk halted her brother sternly before carefully selecting a stray braid to bring forward. “It would look so pretty!” She giggled and Lo’ak scoffed.

“Pretty? What type of vibe do you think I’m going for?” Hands on his hips and eyes narrowing it was still easy to see the glimmer of teasing there. It only made Tuk laugh harder.

“Whatever it is, it's too late to save you from it now.” The words barely left her lips before a shriek followed and she was racing away from her brother’s chase after her tail. The edges of your lips curved upwards. “Lo’ak!” She screeched, now trying to elbow her way out of his grasp.

They wrestled along the rocky shore until his younger sister was gasping for a truce. Dopey grins matched as the two finally broke away to collect themselves. Your eyes refused to be diligent as you kept forcing them back at your task.

Their laughter died down suspiciously quick and through the gentle breeze you could just barely pick up on whispering. The weight of their attention bore down on you. The scrubbing picked up tenfold. There are still three rags left but maybe-

“Y/N!” Tuk called, practically skipping your direction. There was no hope in hiding now.

You flipped over in mock surprise, a warm grin naturally taking place as you saw her rush your way.

“Hi Tuk.” Infusing friendliness into your tone and body language you tried to keep your eyes pinned on the younger Na’vi and not her shadow that followed behind.

“What are you doing?” She immediately swooped in to kneel beside you.

“Tuk, don’t bother her.” Lo’ak called, gently jogging to catch up. His hair was down today, decorated braids swinging with every step.

“I’m not bothering her!” She shot back with a huff as he came to a halt before them. Lo’ak’s dark eyebrows dropped, giving his sister a doubtful look.

“She is fine.” You gave a firm assurance but purposefully veered your attention back at the sudsy rag. Otherwise you were sure to notice insignificant details like the return of his battle band and the way it gave a further optical illusion of his slim waist.

“Are these from grandmother’s tent?” Tuk gestured to the pile of rags.

“Just giving them a quick wash.”

“All by yourself?” Her surprise at such a thing warmed your heart, even more so as she reached to grab one of the rags.

“Oh no, Tuk. It is alright. I can manage.” Your concerns are quickly shushed as she swats your hand away. “I don’t want to make you late.”

From the look on Lo’ak’s face that is exactly what was going to happen. Whatever engagement they were currently going to was sure to be starting soon.

“Well…” She dropped the rag, pausing for a moment. “I can’t really stay long…”

“Do not worry.” You laughed softly, placing a hand on her arm but there was a flicker of mischief in her smile.

“But Lo’ak can help!” Within one yank to his arm she had her older brother falling to his knees.

“Oh no Tu-”

“He’s great at washing rags! Best in our family, actually.”

The bizarre lie almost had your panic melting into humor. You expected Lo’ak to intervene again but despite the roll of his eyes and reprimanding look shot Tuk’s way, he was already shifting to get comfortable and reach for the next rag.

“No, really.” You caught the rag from his fingertips and alongside it his gaze as well. Pools of gold studied you with a diligence that made your skin burn.

“I can walk myself the rest of the way.” Tuk happily chirped, rising to her feet. Ripping the cloth away you scrambled to gather the rest of the supplies. It didn’t help when two four-fingered hands gently helped you gather the mess silently.

“I appreciate it, Tuk, but I really should head back as well.”

Her shoulders dropped. Within a stride Lo’ak was in your space. Instinct almost had you reeling backwards before you realized it was to simply hand over the rest of the supplies.

“We can walk you.” He offered, voice warm and smooth like falling molasses.

“No thank you.” Two steps backwards and your lungs could finally fill with air not drenched in his essence.

“But you’ll be at the party tonight, right?” Tuk perked over his shoulder, eyes wide and already on her toes for an answer.

“Party?”

“More of a small get together, near the old shack.” Lo’ak corrected.

“Anything but small. There will be food and music and an excuse to dress up.” Her hairless brows wiggled, a glee that was intoxicating.

“I don’t know I-”

“Oh you can wear that new top! I’ve been dying to see it on someone! Lo’ak would barely let me look at it while he was making it, let alone try it on.” Supple lips formed into a pout.

“Okayyy,” He drawled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tuk shrunk under the weight, squirming as he began to pull her back. “I think you’ve bugged the poor woman enough.”

She hissed back at him, ducking under his arm to be released. A few comments shot between the two in English but Tuk reluctantly began to inch away.

“We do hope you can make it.” There those eyes were again, studying you for any change. Perhaps he was waiting to see if you would shout, run off, even raise a hand at him. If so, it would be a relief to see him finally catching on to his standing with you. “Call for me if you need help. I will come.”He promised and Tuk quickly ran up to wave goodbye.

Just as you thought the coast was clear, making your way upshore, footsteps came up fast. You turned and startled slightly to find Lo’ak so close again. He held something wrapped in leaves.

Lo’ak held it up with a half grin.

“Lunch, paskalin [honey].” Before you could shoot back your protests he had it tied to your bag strap and was jogging away. You watched his retreat longer that you would have cared to admit. Not your fault. Lo’ak had a way of catching you off guard. That’s all it was, you told yourself. It had nothing to do with the way sunlight danced across his shoulder blades.

Lo’ak made it seem like attending tonight’s party was optional. A stance that Talu clearly did not share as she braided small flowers into your hair. You could try to convince her otherwise, maybe even make up a lie but you knew better than to underestimate Talu’s ability to shackle you into social events. When she had an idea in her head nothing would sway her away.

Yet another reason your theory of her aiding the younger Sully son concerned you. Although you’d hate to believe it, it would surely only take witnessing a few of her conversations with Neteyam to confirm such meddling. And with how often Neteyam swept her away, there was simply too much time for scheming to take place.

“Don’t you think it is a little rude not to wear it?” Talu huffed, holding the sparkling top out to you. The same one a certain Sully had gifted.

“Seems more rude to give him false hope by wearing it.”

“Oh come now, you can’t seriously claim there is no hope for him to cling to.” Talu rolled her eyes, carefully turning each piece of the top so it laid in the right direction. When faced with your deadpanned expression she let out a sight, shoulders dropping. “I’m just saying it would match nicely with the flowers.”

“I’m wearing the purple vines.” You reiterated, eyes narrowing.

“Alright alright,” She carefully laid down the garment and turned to show her surrender. “Have it your way.”

It would be foolish to believe that her acceptance would be anything more than short lived. Bracing yourself for the night ahead you carefully dressed and began crafting a game plan. Anything that would keep Lo’ak off your back and therefore sail you through the party swiftly.

Tuk was right. This ‘small gathering’ was anything but intimate. While it was clear that not all clan members were not invited, it was obvious which demographic they were catering to. Almost every young single warrior, healer, and gatherer had shown up with dazzling garments and the motivation to whisk the night into a frenzy. Frankly it was surprising that Tuk’tirey was allowed at this party at all.

Then again, she came with three taller, older escorts flanking her sides.

You could practically feel Talu’s grin, although she strategically turned to hide it. She had a way with men that seemed to serve her well. Never reveal your cards too early.

It was a success for as far as you could tell because the future Olo’eyktan barely made out simple greetings as his eyes were drawn back to your sister like a moth to flame. It was starting to get uncomfortable. And although you couldn’t be more happy for your sister, it became clear that taking your turns around the gathering would serve you better.

The old shack was something you had never ventured to see. As children with the Sullys you had refused to get anywhere near it. Even now as it was almost entirely swallowed by Eywa’s forest and your friends served drinks from inside, it felt as if hallowed spirits still drifted through its ugly halls. There were too many memories held in that strange kelku. And while none of them were yours, the familiar RDA symbols had it feeling all too personal.

Steering away from the looming structure you found solace in a circle of young females. Most were warriors that you had little interaction with but you had spent enough time Penyau in the healer’s tent to consider her a friend, so her presence was sufficient. You were only half listening as the topic flowed from upcoming gatherings to new gems found in the nears caves. Nothing that you were interested in chiming in on but the circle of females were your armor against Lo’ak. And that’s all that mattered.

At least, that is what you assumed until a finger was tapping you on the shoulder.

A flurry of golden eyes immediately snapped to the space behind you. It was clear who stood there even before you turned around.

“Good evening, sisters. Do I mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?”

“More than a moment if you’d like.” One female responded with a suggestive smirk and that earned her a series of giggling laughter. It gave Lo’ak more than enough courage to lead you away.

Once out of their ear shot there was no more reason to play nice.

“Dinner.” Lo’ak said simply, gently handing over the leaf of meat.

His gentle expression was met with a scowl.

“I can get my own food, Lo’ak. I am in no need of being fed like a child.” Although, the food was currently being served inside of the shack and you would rather starve than set foot in there. However, that information was none of Lo’ak’s business.

“Of course you do not need it, paskalin.” His deep chuckle was accompanied by a smile that was far too resilient. “But I have committed to courting you and part of that is proving my ability to provide. So as far as I’m concerned I will treat you as if that responsibility has already fallen on my shoulders.”

“Well, it’s not.” Sharp words and a quick shove had your hands empty once more. Although his tail drooped there was an indistinguishable flame of determination present in his countenance. This man was going to be the death of you. “And I’m not hungry.”

“Too full from the peanut butter?” He guessed with a crooked smile. It cracked your composure for a split second. Both of those dark eyebrows raised. They taunted you because one way or another Lo’ak had come to figure out the truth and he knew there was no way to refute it.

Jaw clenched and arms crossed, your eyes flashed back with that same fervent challenge. Even as that handsome face threatened to melt you into a puddle you held your ground. How arrogant could he be to still dare showing his face at you like this after everything? Those white teeth on display as if he had won the prize. Beaded braids pulled up into a neat bun to show off his defined shoulders and chest like a true whore. Wearing that frayed tewng that danced like true seduction in the wind as if he would be getting anything close to lucky tonight.

It was baffling to try and understand where he got such nerve.

“Well if you are so persistent on making yourself useful then maybe you should shift your efforts towards getting me a drink instead.” It wasn’t often that you partook in strong drink. The idea often felt childish and pointless. Tonight however….tonight it sounded like an Eywa-send in getting through these interactions.

Anything that would soar you through this nightmare would be welcomed with open arms.

“Of course, tanhi.” Lo’ak shook his head with a fond grin.

Before he could depart however, you caught his arm. He halted immediately.

“From there.” You pointed towards the furthest corner of the shack. A small gaggle of Na’vi were sprawled out across the floor in giggling fits. It was clear from the look in their eyes that not a single worry could fall upon them. Their drink was strong, no doubt about it.

“You don’t want that.”

“And how do you know?”

Lo’ak set the food down to mimic your stance, arms flexed as they crossed.

“That shit will knock you into next week.”

“And you somehow know that is what I don’t like?” You challenged. “Who's to say I don’t drink it on the regular? Unless you somehow had ways of stalking me all the way from Awa’atlu.”

You expected him to sigh and admit defeat with reluctance. Maybe throw in a few claims to battle your own but Lo’ak was never one to meet your expectations. He took two strides forward. He had no right to invade your space but somehow the idea of stepping back looked like defeat.

“That, paskalin, is from Awa’atlu. I should know because I brought it. And I will tell you honestly that pxir [type of alcohol] is nothing like the sweet drinks we make here. It is mostly drunk by men two times your size.” Lo’ak tucked a curl behind your ear. “It will fuck you up.”

It was not the first time Lo’ak had your teeth grinding to the point of your jaw aching, and you feared it would neither be the last. Even as children he had a way of getting under your skin, tugging at your hair, making teasing comments that had you hissing back at him. That special skill had not been lost, but now…now you knew how to deal with cocky Sully men.

“I don’t remember asking for the lineage, skxawng.” Your nimble fingers drew your thick hair over one shoulder. “But if you don’t want to get it for me, I’m sure I could find another capable suitor that will.”

To his credit, Lo’ak’s mask stayed in place. It was the rising of his shoulders that gave away your success. A deep breath was drawn into his lung and that smile waivered like grinding gears that had grown rusty. It shifted into something resembling more of a sarcastic grin.

“Fine.” He huffed, his show of pearly whites demonstrating anything but joy. “Have it your way, tanhi.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he went to retrieve a share of pxir. He couldn’t return soon enough. If you had to endure his intoxicating scent and teasing grin for one more moment without aid, the night would end in violence. Lo’ak kept his own small bowl of drink after handing you one.

He waited, watching you closely. Perhaps he thought you were going to back out. A small voice in your head said that it might have been best but it was too late to retreat now. So with the best mask of confidence you could muster, you held the bowl up in cheers and took a large gulp.

The taste was fowl!

Absolutely horrific as it seethed your throat with fire. How did any of the Metkayina chose such a drink in full consciousness? Lo’ak patted your back as you choked on the few remaining drops that had gone down the wrong tube. The gesture was quickly swatted away. Your own annoyance only rising as you looked down to see that he had already finished his bowl in silence.

“It’s a shock to the system I know…no Y/N don’t-”

Three more gulps and that scorching fire was settled in your stomach and the bowl empty. Your nose tingled like it was about to erupt as your eyes squeezed shut.

“Woah hey, easy there.”

“Another.” Your tone came out like gravel as you handed him the bowl.

“Uh yeah right.” He scoffed, taking it away. The liquid only spiked your courage, pushing you to face the male head on but then…it unfortunately had you sense of gravity shifting as well. Lo’ak quickly wrapped a securing arm around your waist as you stumbled a few steps. Shit, this stuff worked fast. “Here, eat something.”

He brought a piece of yerik meat to your lips and that made you squirm to get away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snipped.

“Pxir is worse on an empty stomach, trust me.”

“That easy huh?”

Lo’ak sighed, bringing the food down. “Okay I deserved that but-”

“I don’t want your food, Lo’ak.” There was still enough coordination left to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and stomp to the other side of the gathering. In all fairness, the ground did move side to side with every step but you managed just the same.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape him even while dancing. Toruk Makto’s youngest son remained leaned against a tree on the outskirts, eyes pinned on you diligently. It felt as if you could never get a break from his weighted presence. Why was he not enjoying the party like everyone else? Was it really worth skipping out on getting drunk with old friends just to babysit you?

Walking, let alone dancing, was a struggle but you made a crooked path to him as fast as you could, one hand pushing against his chest. Lo’ak barely flinched.

“You’re watching me.” You accused him.

“First experience with Metkayina alcohol requires supervision.”

“And you have to do it from the shadows like a stalker?” Your words were already slurring together but it was hard to tell if that was how it sounded out loud or simply the distortions of your inhibited brain.

“I’d be more than happy to keep a closer eye on you but it seemed like you wanted space.” He shrugged, eyes darting to where you swayed back and forth.

“You’re right. I do.” One pointed finger stabbed at his chest with each word. Eywa, he was so warm.

His mouth opened to treat you to yet again his annoyingly low baritone but then….

“Your sister is calling you.”

Your claim had his brows raising before slowly turning around to look. It seemed that Eywa was on your side tonight after all because Tuktirey was in fact trying to get down one of her beaded chains from a high branch. How it got up there was a mystery to you but one that you had no interest in solving.

A forced breath puffed from his nose before he turned back towards you.

“Just,” His lips pressed into a thin line, ears tucking back. “Stay here. Eat something.” That leaf of meat was tucked into your hand before Lo’ak was stalking towards his younger sister.

As if.

You carelessly flung the leaf away, taking in this new breath of freedom. Eywa only knew where Talu was and conversing with the girls once more no longer seemed appealing but there was still one thing on your mind. The same thing that would erase all other thoughts and help you survive.

Lo’ak had taken his share of the pxir with him so you were forced to find your own means of acquiring some. Going into the old shack was still not on your agenda but surely you could think of some plan before getting there. And just like that an idea hit you.

Quite literally.

The male let out a small grunt as you incidentally knocked into him. Immediately strong arms were steadying you back into place with a half hearted laugh.

“Apologies, sister. Woah hey, you got it?” The male was tall and strong, a wall of muscle with a battle band meaning he must have been a warrior. His features held a flame of familiarity but you couldn’t recall his name. However, looking down at the bowl in his hand you realized he perfectly met your two requirements.

He wasn’t Lo’ak.

He had pxir.

“Irayo [thank you], I’m just a little…knocked off my axis.”

He had a pleasing smile. And his braids were shiny. A few clumsy bats of your lashes and the male was already rising to play the hero. He guided you carefully to a stump where you could sit, saying another quiet apology and offering his services.

“There isn’t anything I can do for you?” At first you figured he was nothing more than a sweet gentleman who somehow got his hands on the strong drink by luck. However, when your eyes locked with his you could see the faintest tremble of a smirk wanting to take place.

Not too well behaved after all.

Just what the doctor ordered.

“Well, I am a little thirsty.” You couldn’t quite remember what a seductive expression would look like and doing that while riding the line of innocence and suggestive was nothing more than a train wreck.

He wasn’t picky though.

Neither was his price high as he brought you bowl after bowl of strong drink. The two of you began to make games out of it. Seeing who could drink the fastest. Seeing who could still stand up straight. These little contests became funnier with every sip, although this mysterious man had size on his side and therefore started to smoke your ass at every game.

You couldn’t remember how you made it back to the dance floor. You weren’t even sure if you were doing anything more than swaying in place but it didn’t really matter when you had him to cling on to. The drinks kept coming even as your head grew heavy and eyes blurry until the scene was just pretty streaks of color. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him take a sip but he never asked you to stop, making trip after trip for more.

A wave of victory washed over you upon spotting Lo’ak’s scowl from the sidelines. This was the perfect plan indeed. So perfect that you must not have been that drunk after all. You had the Sully boy off of your ass and a handsome male keeping you from falling down as you drank away the worries.

At some point in time you recalled heated voices coming from above. Another taller frame pressing against your opposite side until you are sandwiched. The heat of wandering hands. Your giggles that rang in your ears in such a funny way it had you laughing again.

It was warm. Oh so warm.

And his hair danced in the breeze beneath your fingertips, shells and beads clinking together.

And fragments…the night only existed in fragments.

Ones that trickled off into nothing.

The nightmare had come on fast. Like a strike from the sky then suddenly you were transported back into that heated tent. Blood spilled from seeping pools along the floor to small clumps that might just never come out from under your nails. Tendons and bone and metal balls. Things that were never meant to be together but time after time you were forced to dig out these demon bullets from warm bodies.

You hit the floor with a thud. Footsteps scrambled across the space.

The explosions continued in the background. Like fire in the sky that these demons had somehow figured out how to harness. And as you frantically stitched up a gushing wound you couldn’t help but wonder where it had hit. Who it had hit. Your work was getting messy. Not only from your shaking hands but the squirming of the man beneath you. His cries would never leave you.

Arms wrapped around you but they couldn’t stop your shaking. They couldn’t stop the endless line of battered bodies they came through the tent.

Rumble and crack, sounds that rattled in your chest the same way it shook the ground. You stopped looking at their faces, afraid of who you could see. Had you already stitched up a friend? A child? Your sister…no, she was on your left. She never spoke on these days, covered in blood up to her elbows.

How long had it been?

How much longer did you have to go?

Your fingertips were becoming slippery but you wouldn’t look to see what they were covered in. Not when another person was carried to your feet. Not when…not when those screams sound far too young to be more than a child.

No more.

No more no more no more no more.

Please no more!

“Mawey, tanhi. I’ve got you.”

Another crack. Another vibration. The lump in your throat was sure to be a sob but no one would hear you even if it were to bubble up. It would be drowned in the sea of anguish. Just the way no one would see your shaking hands through the mist of teary eyes. Your throat knotted. You couldn’t get oxygen through just in the same way the chest beneath your hands couldn’t. It heaved and heaved before halting.

His heart had stopped.

Would yours stop too?

It didn’t matter. There was no time to think about your own oxygen. Just keep going. Don’t stop. Never stop.

“Open your eyes, sevin, please. Open your eyes for me.”

And you were a coward for shifting away but how could they ask you to look? How could they expect you to see the carnage that was once your friends and family? How did war have a way of turning passionate souls into nothing more than fractured skin and bone? It was all you could see now.

Just blood.

And bone.

And your crooked stitches from cowardice hands.

“Y/N!”

In a snap you were met with a different view. A canopy of fabrics above, not the same as the healer’s tent. A firm chest pressed against your back and sweet words that resembled nothing of screams.

The explosions were here though. And each rumble of power was followed by a strike of light and that sharp rippling sound.

“Please.” You whispered.

“I know, I know. I’ve got you.” A voice soothed and you could only drown in the wetness along your cheeks. Rocked back and forth side to side but the explosions never stopped.

New sounds accompanied the first and it was only the throb in your throat that revealed it was your own sobs being let loose. Warm skin pressed against your forehead, lips that weren’t outlined in blood.

“It’s over.” The voice promised.

You wanted to tell the truth. To say that it would never be over. It could never be over. Not when the memory infiltrated every space in your mind, corrupting what little light was still there.

You didn’t have enough air to say it, however. Your own cries were what filled the night as the voice whispered soothing promises. Fingers ran through your hair and a heartbeat was beneath your cheek.

Your eyes gave out before the rumbling did.

The gentle sway was relaxing. The sound of rain doing even more to calm you slumber as you snuggled deeper into the soft blanket. Fingers grasping at the material, you breathed in the scent with eased contentment. The essence alone was enough to tempt you into falling right back asleep.

Perhaps you could stay here forever. Snuggled in your bed.

That way you would never have to open your eyes because doing so was sure to spin you off your axis. The pounding in your head could only be blamed on last night’s overindulgence but Talu hadn’t come to wake you up yet, so it was fine.

The branches of your top dug into your side upon turning over and you squirmed to shift it. Much less soft than the usual tops you wore to bed. Did you not change before falling asleep?

Sifting through your memory, however, all you could retrieve was the sound of a calm heart beat and a fresh fragrance that wrapped around you. The same one that filled your lungs from the blanket.

Your eyes snapped open.

This was not your room. You could tell from the first glimpse at the overhead marui structure. And with one more inhale that essence led you to believe you knew exactly whose home you were in. Head aching and body feeling like it has the strength of a rag doll you slowly turned to observe your surroundings. With a cringe you held your breath. One look over had your apprehensions confirmed.

Sprawled out across the kelku floor on the opposite side of the space lay Lo’ak, sound asleep.

He had one arm tucked beneath his head with a small blanket thrown over his lap that barely covered anything. Long legs strewn messily along the woven floor, his soft lips were parted with just a whisper of breath passing. Glossy braids outlined his chiseled features into something softer. Something that had you turning away abruptly.

The action only rewarded you with a spinning room, lifting from all sense of reality as you tried not to hurl your guts on his floor. Taking deep breaths you eventually calmed your head and stomach enough to start thinking through your next course of action.

You hadn’t even attempted to stand up and it had already been a close call, so sneaking away gracefully seemed like an unlikely feat. Still…Lo’ak was asleep. And if his heavy breathing was anything to go by, he was well under.

Rain still trampled the scene outside but the thunder and lightning were gone, at least for now. Your eyes pinched shut, cheeks heating as you tried to to push away the memory of Lo’ak rocking you in his arms.

All the more reason to get out of here without having to interact.

Lo’ak’s groan made you freeze in place, one leg already reaching outside of the hammock. He shifted, propping one leg up before letting out a sigh. You prayed to Eywa he was a heavy sleeper.

It wouldn’t have mattered in the end, however, because when both feet were planted and you went to stand it only resulted in a collapsing with a screech that would have woken up the neighbors, let alone the male sleeping a few paces away.

Rushed footsteps sounded before two hands tried to help you back up.

“Hey, take it easy.” The tone of his voice had dropped to a rough rumble, thick with the last string of sleep.

You gulped.

Shoving him off was too much of an effort at this point and to your dismay it seemed that the only way back on your feet was to accept his help. He didn’t give you a chance to try running again, instead helping lift you back onto his bed. With a groan you threw your arm over your eyes.

It felt as if your head had been trampled beneath a Bone Helm Rhino’s feet.

“Lo’ak,” You said slowly. “What am I doing in your home? Or more specifically, in your bed?”

“You really should drink some water.” You could hear him shuffling, mostly likely going to get you some.

“Lo’ak.” Tongue wielded like a knife you took the little energy you had to muster up some remnants of intimidation.

He sighed.

“Don’t worry. Nothing like that happened last night. I promise.”

Despite your frustration, you believed him. Your clothes were still in tack and it appeared that Lo’ak had spent the entire night sleeping on his floor so you could take the bed. Another part of you was more frustrated by the gesture. He was being such a gentleman it was borderline sickening. Why couldn’t you be left alone to hate him in peace?

“Oh really?” You countered. “Then what did?”

Although you could feel his stare, the arm over your eyes added a false sense of protection from his intensity.

“Exactly what I said would happen. You got drunk off your ass and needed someone to take you home.”

Your arm dropped sharply, heating rushing to your face.

“And you thought that meant taking me to your home?” The sound of your own raging voice caused a ringing in your ears. Lo’ak remained unfazed, a leaf of water already waiting in his other hand.

“I would’ve walked you home tanhi but…” He cringed slightly.

“But what?” You pressed, eyes narrowing.

“Well it was my horny brother that would have kept you up all night so I figured it was my responsibility to help you find some place more…comfortable.”

Your nose scrunched. So many tiny pieces of information yet nothing was coming together to create a true picture of what had been your prior night’s experience.

“He stayed over?” It shouldn’t have surprised you. Talu and Neteyam were progressing at such a fast rate you sometimes wondered if mating was only a few weeks away. Staying the night was only bound to happen before then, especially with those secretive looks that you were forced to witness.

“Still is.” Lo’ak urged the leaf forward, which you reluctantly accepted. Even the cool water burned your battered throat. “I didn’t want them waking you.”

“Sure.” You deadpanned.

“He is not the quietest-”

“Ew! Lo’ak, I don’t want to hear about that.” You reeled back, desperately trying to erase invading images of your sister and the future Olo’eyktan as fast as possible. You loved your sister but hearing about her sex life was not on your list of priorities. A sentiment you wish she had in common with you but there were far too many times that she pushed for information on your end.

Lo’ak laughed and leaned back onto his haunches.

“Well neither do I but it’s information I am burdened with.” His fingers ran through his braids. “Shared a marui with him in Awa’atlu for far too long.” Lo’ak muttered.

“So it’s a good thing you’re here. Won’t have to witness it for yourself.” He patted your knee with a smile before rising to refill the water. You scowled at his back, amiss that he couldn’t properly see your disdain.

With the clouded sky it was difficult to tell how long you had been there but you were ready to suffer the physical strain of walking back in this horrid state if it meant avoiding addressing the elephant in the room.

“Well excuse me if I’m not quick to thank you but I really should be getting back now.”

He eyed you cautiously from across the room. Putting on a tough facade was difficult when your limbs would hardly coordinate as your head pounded relentlessly. You didn’t manage to swing your legs over the hammock again before Lo’ak had crossed the room and was handing you more water.

“One thing I know about Neteyam is that he likes to take his damn time. It’s going to be a while.”

“Oh please, all men claim that.” You scoffed, taking the water from his hands. “Surely even the walk back would be enough time.” You scoffed after downing the liquid.

“Tanhi, you are brutal.” Lo’ak said with an amused chuckle.

“No, I’m realistic.”

“Pessimistic.” He corrected, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

You tapped a finger against your chin as if in deep thought. “Hm let me guess, you are the great exception then? Your claim to a woman's pleasure being sincere for once.”

Those golden orbs darkened slightly, his tail swishing in a slow rhythm. “I don’t have to claim anything. Actions speak louder than words.”

That glimmer of mischief sparked just the same as it did when he was a child. However this time it held promises of things far less innocent. You wondered how many Metkayina women had fallen prey to that vibrant spark. His appeal was undeniable and yet another reason the sight of him made your blood boil.

When were you ever going to catch a break? Your racing heart could surely use one.

“Typical.” You scoffed, finally relenting to being trapped, flopping onto your back.

Lo’ak chuckled and rose, towering over where you laid. From this angle you could see far too much, every chiseled muscle in his body contrasted by the low light.

“Well if you ever want to examine the evidence up close yourself, I am at your beck and call.” He tucked one stray strand away from your forehead and retreated before you could reprimand him. Heat sparked down from your face until reaching your collarbones.

He was such an asshole. Thinking there would ever be a day where you would want that. You were not another doe eyed female he could win over. Even if your eyes strayed far too long as he began adjusting the waterproof fabrics to hang from the marui’s openings. That superficial attraction meant nothing but that you were in the prime mating season of your life. Hormones were a powerful force but not enough for you to forget what he had done.

If any other typical warrior were to take his place the effect would have surely been the same. In fact you remembered feeling that pull to another male last night.

Your tail curled around your thigh. What had happened to him? Flashes of dancing and drinking with the warrior were strong enough to be real but beyond that everything else was a blur. All you knew is that he was more than willing to bring you drink after drink.

Did he see you leave with Lo’ak at the end of the party? There may not have been any true long term interest for the male but you would still feel bad if running off with Lo’ak had snipped him in some way. Especially when getting further entangled with the Olo’eyktan’s youngest son was the last thing you desired.

When Lo’ak scaled the side support beam to flank down the next cover, you caught sight of scabbed marks along his knuckles.

“You hit him?!”

“What?” Lo’ak casted you a glance from where he hung from the beam, thighs flexed around the base to keep him in place.

A fiery glare was shot at his hand.

“Oh this,” He peeled the hand from the bar, casually using one arm to keep a grip. “Yeah I met your special friend last night.” The frown upon his lips showed that he had anything but fond memories of the interaction.

“What a character he is.” Lo’ak grumbled lowly, more so to himself than you.

Like lightning a flash of anger coursed through your veins. Clenched fists and wobbly legs scrambled to push you back into an upright position.

“Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk’itan you had no right!”

His legs unfurled and he hung from the bar with one hand, the other out in form of surrender.

“Now wait a minut-”

“You think that just because you want to court me that it puts me off the market for all other men? It’s not their fault that you are too stubborn to let me ignore you peacefully! So what now? Are you going to punch every male that looks in my direction?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Can’t even handle the slightest bite of competition?”

His eyes narrowed, ears pinned backwards as he leveled you with a fierce stare. It was too late. You were on a roll.

Ignoring the swirling of the room you stomped over to him, finger poking aggressively into his chest as you spoke. “If you don’t like seeing me with other suitors then I suggest you skip to the inevitable outcome and find yourself another woman to annoy! Maybe she will take your constant nagging as a compliment.”

Your chest heaved from the effort, lungs filling with oxygen rapidly as silence fell. An eerie silence that made you shudder from the drafting wind. Lo’ak watched you, voice stoic of emotion before fixing the last flap and dropping to his feet with a thud. Towering over you like a shadow in the night, it was difficult to force yourself to keep from stepping back.

Two more steps and he was close enough to feel the heat of his skin.

“Napau is a crook and disgrace to the title he held. Any man that schemes to take advantage of a woman under strong drink against her will does not deserve to breathe the air Eywa gives. He is lucky that I only had time to get a few hits in.” Lo’ak’s voice dropped into a low register that burned with seething fire.

“He knows what will happen if he crosses my path again. Or Neteyam’s for that matter.” Dark promises whistled in his words, an intense sincerity that had your own nerves rattling. You could only imagine how Napau would have fared under that same intimidation last night.

And then Lo’ak was gone, calmly walking to the other side of kelku to secure the next flap.

A mixture of embarrassment, regret, and dread swirled in your chest. If what Lo’ak said was true then last night could have ended so much worse than it did. A million possible scenarios crammed themselves to the front of your mind until you could feel nausea settling in. During the party you couldn’t even remember Napau’s name and yet that was almost the man taking you to bed.

“You…You told Neteyam?”

“He saw enough to confirm the origin of my actions. Napau won’t bother you again, tanhi.” He didn’t turn to face you, pulling on the rope tight to keep the fabric in place.

“What does that mean?” A part of you was reluctant to ask but you needed to know what became of him and even more so what had almost become of you.

It seemed Lo’ak was even more reluctant than you to talk about it when his tail dropped and he let out a heavy sigh. He remained diligent in waterproofing the marui despite the heavy topic.

“It means he got off with more mercy than he deserved. As I said he was not worthy of the warrior title he held so that was remedied and now he knows better than to come within half a mile of you or me.”

“His title was revoked? How is that even possible? Without the proper authority-”

“Neteyam will be Olo’eyktan soon enough. One word to my father from him will be enough, trust me.” He peeked over his shoulder, watching the way your eyes ran from side to side as you processed the information. It was too much to sort in your hazy mind, too many emotions that couldn’t be felt separately.

Lo’ak softened.

Leaving the flap aside he made gentle steps in your direction, careful not to scare you away.

“Don’t let this weigh on you, tanhi. It has been solved.” Voice smooth and tender, it didn’t matter because it was clear your mind was somewhere else.

“What did he do exactly?”

That struck Lo’ak into a posture as stiff as a board. His tail froze and eyes melted back into that stormy gold color.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I do.” You insisted, catching his arm when he went to turn. His whole body froze this time, eyes darting down to where you clasped his forearm. Lo’ak had grown tall, taller than most Na’vi thanks to his father’s Avatar genes. It therefore required your neck craning backward to stare up at him properly.

“I am grateful to Eywa that you do not have to remember such events.”

“But-”

“However, I can assure you that he got no further than a few unwanted kisses and squeezes before I stepped in.” Lo’ak stayed in place, no longer in a rush to fix the kelku as you let his words marinate. It was harder to feel the true wash of relief when your own shouts against the Sully son had been reframed into something more brutal. Apologizing felt like the last thing you wanted to do, especially since a part of you could not let go of your lingering anger towards him.

Lo’ak had saved you.

Why couldn’t you have saved yourself?

All because your stupid pride and spite towards the male had clouded your judgment into behaving foolishly. This is not who you were. Never before had you indulged in such reckless behavior and yet within the first couple weeks of the Sullys returning this is what Lo’ak got to see of you. What type of sorcery did his mere presence hold to shove you into madness?

Lightning struck from above, thunder falling far too quickly after.

Nails digging into Lo’ak’s arm, you watched the sky carefully through the front entrance.

“It bothers me too.”

His voice snapped you back to attention as hard as the crackling lightning.

“The storm.” He clarified, meeting your startled gaze with a soft composure. “The sound is all too��familiar.”

There were no further words needed to understand what he meant. The Sky Demon’s erupting fire had been relentless. Always taking. Always destroying. Crumbling your land before you in a matter of blinking. Awa’atlu no doubt had not been exempt from such cruelty.

“Should I feel sorry for you then?” The cycle of storm started up again and with the next crack of lightning your voice came out shakier than intended.

Lo’ak’s shoulders fell.

“No tanhi,” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “I’m not telling you this to gain your sympathy. I only want you to know that I would never judge you for feeling that fear too.” His eyes flickered down to where you still dug into his arm as the storm carried forward.

You quickly snapped away, taking a few steps back for measure. Veering your attention away from the entrance, you hoped the lack of visual would keep you from crumbling further in terror.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

“And we don’t have to.”

Such a different tune than the one Lo’ak often sang but one look at his expression showed that he was not lying.

“But you know where I am if you ever do.” He gave a half smile and crossed to put the last flap over the entrance. You weren’t oblivious to the occasional glance he casted from the corner of his eye to check up on you.

Having the marui enclosed completely did aid in dampening your anxiety. It gave you a moment to look around and fully take in your surroundings. It had only been a few weeks since the Sullys had returned to the forest so you were surprised to see his living space so thoroughly crafted. Small candles lit a soft glow that seemed to fill the area with warmth.

Thinking of Lo’ak you would have expected his space to be covered with a messy floor and toppled gear but what you found was quite the contrary. Neat baskets held smaller household items while his weapons were securely kept in hanging shelves. Spears, bows, knives, and other Sky Demon weaponry. Your eyes were caught on the ominous guns before getting snapped away by the sound of thunder.

Your arms snaked around your own waist, willing your heart rate to slow.

Soft lips threatened to break beneath your sharp teeth. Although exhausted it felt as if your body was on a buzz, a vibration that would have you shattering to pieces.

“How do you deal with it?” The question sprung without thought.

“With what?” You had his attention now, his hands swiping at the rain covering his arms.

“The storm. If it bothers you so much, how do you manage?” Although initially embarrassed by your impromptu question it did help to shift the weight over to Lo’ak instead of you. Anything to avoid bringing up the way you had cried in his arms.

Lo’ak surprisingly lit up at the inquiry. A smile curved at his lips and the air of a secret you were not privy to filled his aura.

“I have a secret weapon.” He said proudly, motioning for you to follow him as he quickly dropped to his knees and shuffled through baskets. At the mention of weapons you were already hesitant, stiff as a board. However, for as far as you knew everything that could do harm was on the other side of his marui, so you slowly dropped to your knees beside him.

Lo’ak pulled out on those glowing squares that the scientists were always tapping on. You’d seen them many times in your trips to the outpost but never were interested in becoming familiar with it. This one was smaller, though. So small it fit in the palm of his hand. Then he pulled out another metal object that was an oval shape.

With a few taps on the tiny pad the oval began singing. You shuffled backwards, almost hitting the hammock behind, as if the small device would attack. When it made no other movement you relaxed and awkwardly crouched back into place. To his credit, Lo’ak tried to hide his laughter.

Sky Demon music is strange. So different from the lively drums that accompanied their ceremonies. From the foreign words to strange layers of sound it was always too overwhelming. But this song stood apart.

No language to throw you off but whistling of high and low that would meld into perfect harmony. Lo’ak watched as you creeped ever closer. Despite its soft essence the music gently floated over the sound of thunder and lightning until it felt like the only air filling the marui.

Your tail curled lazily along the floor. Hands bracing yourself forward you drank in every note and phrases that formed together. There was no way of predicting which message would sprout from one to the next but somehow it maintained that perfect fluidity. Like the roots of the trees that intertwined all greenery together, this song was its own habitat.

“Beautiful.” Lo’ak murmured, like a whisper of a secret.

“Beautiful.” You couldn’t help but agree, but when you looked up his eyes were only set on you. Warmth crackled through your veins.

He rose to his feet second after and you craned to look at him.

“I will go drag my brother out so you can go home. At least make sure he’s decent.” His right ear twitched as a glimmer of amusement snuck through. “But you are free to stay as long as you like.”

The rain was still coming down in sheets outside. When Lo’ak pushed the cover aside you could see another flash of light from the sky. He stepped out into the shower without hesitation, braids becoming shiny in the rain. For a moment you considered protesting, insisting that he wait until the storm had passed, but you feared the contradiction. Only a mere moment ago you were stumbling to return.

“Tanhi, you were right.” Lo’ak called over the pounding rain. “It did bother me to see you with him.”

There and gone within a flash. You were left to sit in his kelku with lips parted and head more dizzy than ever. Despite how much there was to unpack you allowed yourself to sink into the sweet melody. Curling up with the blanket that had fallen to the floor you decided that you didn’t have to go back, not just yet.

“Kaltxi [hello], traitor.” You huffed after breaching the entrance. There was no sight of Neteyam but you could still smell his specific essence in the air. Talu’s ears twitched up at the sound of your voice, pausing from where she was cleaning her room.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She chastised you but a smile was already forming along her lips. She tugged the trunk from the corner quickly and sat down atop it. Elbows resting on her crossed legs and eyes shining with interest, her keen attitude was far too much for your hungover state to handle. “Tell me everything!”

“Where would you like me to start? Waking up today in another man’s bed? Or maybe I could tell the story from when you decided to toss me off to him so you could entertain a certain prince last night.” Your arms crossed and nose scrunched as you glared down at her.

Your agitation only increased when Talu let out a short laugh.

“Toss you off? Tsmuke [sister] I could not have pried you away from him last night.” Her correction was accompanied by her own body language mimicking yours, lips tempted into a playful smirk. It made your own countenance falter.

“What are you talking about?” Narrowed eyes pinned her into place but Talu already wore a giddy grin.

“I tried several times to take you home last night but you would not have it. You were glued to Lo’ak’s side, kept talking about how good he smelled.” Her smile only grew as fire burned into your cheeks. “He even offered to walk you home but it was you that insisted upon staying with him. You were absolutely smitten.” She giggled.

“I was absolutely drunk!” You hissed, tailing coiling around your own ankle. You ran your fingers through the root of your tangled hair, eyes squeezing shut in horror. This is not how Lo’ak had told the story. Why would he have spun it differently? “And you just let me fall all over him? Let him take me back to his place so you could fuck his older brother?!”

“Mawey tiyawn [calm down love],” She urged, voice far gentler than your own as she stood and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Lo’ak promised nothing would happen and I believed him especially after…” That usual soft composure sharpened into something fierce. You knew exactly what she was remembering. You were confident that Talu would snap Napau in half herself were it not for Lo’ak getting their first. Despite her sweet and tempered demeanor your sister could be vicious once provoked. She had a protective streak that no one could dampen.

“Yes yes I know.” You groaned.

“So then you know that it’s all handled then. Neteyam is on his way to talk to Olo’eyktan right now.”

“Don’t remind me.” You spoke on an exhale, arms dropping to your side. This headache was never going to go away and now it had more ammunition to swirl it into chaos. Was it really as bad as Talu described? How were you ever going to face him again? And yet Lo’ak had not spoken of your clinging once.

“He was quite heroic.” Talu smiled, finger moving to start releasing the knots in your hair. “I thought after how scared you were with Napau that you would want to return home immediately but you melted so easily in Lo’ak’s arms. A few minutes of playing with his hair and you were happy as a clam.”

You covered your heated face, stomach twisting as you imagined the scene.

“Bury me ten feet under.” You whined, slumping into her arms. Talu shushed your worries, nimble fingers doing wonders for your chaotic hair.

“Oh now don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure Lo’ak would never hold it against you.”

And he didn’t. In fact, he went out of his way to spin another story with the omission of your embarrassing desires. Why would he do that? He had been given the perfect ammunition. The perfect proof that you were interested in him and yet he had done nothing with it? Threw it out before even utilizing it.

Surely there was some leverage to be gained after all of his courting to now find you falling all over him.

None of it made sense and perhaps the remnants of pxir were stronger than you anticipated. It seemed as if the world had been spun on its top. You were nowhere closer to unwinding this web now than you were a few hours ago so you might as well rest. With that in mind you unclasped yourself from Talu’s arms and told her you were going to lay down.

Hallway out the door way she stopped you.

“You aren’t mad, are you? Truly?” Her voice wavered with hesitation for the first time since your arrival. “It wasn’t my intention to bring him home but once you were in such good hands….well, the night was so perfect and-”

“It is fine.” You reassured her, hand lazily landing on her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Talu whispered, her eyes melting into a warm honey hue. You shrugged it off.

“I hope he was worth it.” You snorted but one look at the Talu’s sneaking grin and swatting tail told you so much more about their night of fun than you would have liked to know.

Thankfully the storm did not continue much longer. Rain continued to wash over the forest but thunder and lightning had taken its absence. It allowed you to fall head first into a deep sleep, although your dreams were riddled with passing memories. Glimpses of Lo’ak’s hands coming up to wipe away tears. The stretch of blue skin along his shoulder and throat that you snuggled into until his essence was clear. Even the deep rumble of soothing praise as you let yourself fall back into his chest.

Hours later a shuffling of footsteps by the door pulled you out of sleep. Feeling much stronger now, you slowly padded to the entrance with pinched brows. Lo’ak was already gone but another cooked meal was left in his place with a homemade umbrella perched atop to keep it dry.

You thought nothing of it, although begrudgingly grateful for something to fill your stomach. But then you saw something else neatly fold into a leaf, a note tucked at its side.

To keep the darkness away

-Lo’ak

And left behind were those two objects that had played such sweet music in his kelku. His secret weapon, now yours to wield.

Any and all feeback is appreciated! It makes a huge difference for motivation and updating<3

Part of taglist: @hauntingvenus @yawnetu @baybaybear1 @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr

224 notes · View notes