#probably her plot line would be wanting to take a step back from one of her careers and being on the fence about which one

[silkhy-john]

Pokemon XY except the protag befriends Sycamore and basically gets to watch Sycamore and Lysandre’s relationship play out like a doomed romance also Diantha is very involved cause of course

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 4

one || two || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: seijoh4 x gn!reader [ oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, maki ]

warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, the word “dick” said over a million times lol this chapter is basically bigdick!4 supremacy, corny behavior, camboy!maki, slight mentions of degradation, iwa’s is the shortest (I’M SORRY), some minor errors probably and i think that’s it :] !!

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT :'))) life was kicking my ass and the last thing i could think about was getting metaphorically dicked down lol but hope you enjoy, thank y'all so much for your patience, and the last couple parts coming soon!

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen , @tsukiran

OIKAWA would be the reason the list even exists, let’s be honest. 

But, for the sake of the plot, we’ll pretend otherwise.

Once again, without fail, after another grand win for the great king, he’s swarmed by his devoted groupies—Shoving their phones, gifts, and themselves in his face hoping to catch even a sliver of his attention.

And once again, you stood on the sidelines, impatiently waiting for him to leave the spotlight; irked your soul sometimes.

It’s not that you were against him being praised or anything, even though his head was fat enough to begin with, you loved the admiration people had for him. But there’s a fine line between being a fan and being a straight-up weirdo. 

And right now, they’re tap-dancing on that line something fierce. 

“Tooru!~ will you sign right here?” 

One pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing more of her breasts that were pushed up damn-near to her chin whilst wearing a sultry smile. You caught a small glimpse of panic flash across his features before he covered it with a nervous laugh, eyes subtly shifting over to you as he replied. “..How 'bout a photo instead?” 

Things went on like that for the next few minutes. Someone would even take it a step further by flat out asking for his number, or if he was single. They already knew the answer to that, it was the same every time, yet they continuously tried their luck as if someday, through the power of delusion and manifestation, his answer would miraculously change despite you always attending his practices and his games, wearing his spare jersey, holding his hand, shoving your tongue down his throat, didn’t matter—Them hoes were relentless.

But, so were you. 

“Oh, Tooru!~ If you don’t wrap this up, you’ll be walking home!~” You sang, mirroring the tone of the girl from earlier. The semi-empty threat made the setter perk up like a hound, eyes wide as that same panic returned as well.

Although this time, he wasn’t so quick to play it off. 

“U-Uh,” he squeaked, then immediately covered by clearing his throat. “Yes, uh, well, it’s been great chatting with you all tonight. Thank you again for your love and support for the team, it's always appreciated. I hope you’ll continue to cheer us and myself oninthefuture—WAIT! [____]-chan! Don’t leave, y’know my poor legs won’t survive the walk back! Baby, c'mon, wait up!” 

Oikawa whined as he scrambled to catch up to your retreating form, no longer concerned with the crowd of disgruntled faces he left behind as they watched their object of affection slip away yet again. A small part of you wanted to turn back and stick your tongue out at them in petty victory, but you refrained. The sound of their great king pleading for your attention was satisfactory enough.

You barely made it outside before his long arms wrapped around your front, locking you to his chest as he leaned almost his entire weight on you. You could feel his heart thrumming against your head as he panted. Eventually, he huffed, no doubt pouting as he gently swayed you in his arms. “You’re mean.” 

Keeping your gaze forward, you frowned. “And I have the right to be. You said you’d tell some of those ‘fans’ of yours to chill out—it’s getting way out of hand, Tooru. That one girl practically flashed her damn tits at you, and you gawked like a virgin.” 

He chortled, incredulously, “I did not! She caught me off guard..!” 

“And yet, you rewarded her with a photo instead of calling out her inappropriate behavior. Make it make sense.” 

You attempted to shrug him off only for his hold to tighten, spinning you around to gaze at you with chocolate brown eyes resembling that of a puppy out in the rain—One of the unfair tactics of Tooru Oikawa to get back on your good side. You had full intent of ignoring him, standing your ground…but how could you possibly stay mad at that adorable face? 

Easy. By not looking directly at it. 

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so,” you gently pushed away the setter’s face, earning another whine in protest. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. I’m really upset with you.” 

“Buh I dinit do anyfing,” he said through smooshed lips. 

“And that’s the problem. You need to set boundaries with them, Tooru. Things’ll only continue to get out of hand the longer you enable it. Next thing you know they’re clawing and biting at your flesh so they can take a piece of you home with them under their nails and in their teeth.”

Oikawa grimaced, leaning back. “Ew. Graphic. They’re fans, baby, not rabid animals. I think you may be exaggerating.”

You cocked a brow. “Am I now? Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

The team had never seen their captain move so fast in their entire season. This was the first time he’d just straight up avoided his entourage and head straight for the showers after practice, scurrying off like his ass was on fire. Questions would spark around the gym about this drastic shift in behavior.

“What’s his deal?” One player voiced. “Usually he sticks around at least another hour to entertain his cult.”

“Not sure. After our last game, he’s been skittish.” Another replied.

A third jumped in after taking a swig of his water. “Think it’s got something to do with that..thing we saw the other night?”

The small group thought back to when all of their phones went off at the same time, social medias in a frenzy about their very own star player. At first glance, they figured it was just highlights of their game, specifically highlighting Oikawa. But, upon further inspection…it was something else entirely.

'Tooru Oikawa. 6’3ft King of the Court, and also our hearts. Being notoriously known as the campus pretty boy, loved by many and envied by the rest, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to consider him the blueprint—The default setting of everyone’s wet dream. He’s a tall, talented, smooth-talker with playful eyes and a panty-dropping smile, a textbook definition of  ‘Prince Charming’. Everybody and they mama, daddy, even bald-headed granny would kill to jump this man’s bones. Many would see him as the romantic type, but there’s something more…unhinged hidden beneath the pretty-boy persona. After much debate, our beloved setter is to be dubbed a whole SWITCH, no nintendo. At first he’ll play the dominant role, but edge him long enough and you’ll bring the Great King to his knees, quivering, drooling, you name it. He’s shameless. 9.5/10 - half a point deducted for his inferiority/superiority complex. Get some therapy, babe. ♡’

They didn’t think much of it at the time, when it came to their attention whore of a captain, it wasn’t completely unexpected, especially if his groupies had anything to do with it. The players looked at one another, then back at the gaggle of hormones waiting for the brunette in question by the doors. It was unanimous.

“Yep.” “Uh-huh.”

The third player snorts. “‘bout time it sucked to be him for once.”

When Oikawa eventually exited the locker room, he did everything in his power to appear small, tip-toeing across the floor with his head down and shoulders hunched in crouching tiger-like fashion. He would’ve gotten away scott-free…if not for his petty teammates.

“See ya tomorrow, captain!”

It bounced off the gym walls, the setter grimacing as his devoted followers instantly looked in his direction, predatory gazes stunning him like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa shot the players a nasty glare over his shoulder, flipping them off and continuing for the exit. He attempted to stiff-arm his way through the hoard, ducking and dodging their grabby hands and shutting down their…bolder advances.

“Tooru-chan!~ Let me show you what I’m capable of, I’ll have you begging in no time, just say the word!~”

“Unhinged men are so my type—Step on me, spit on me, call me names until I cry, I want it all!~”

“I bet it’s bubblegum pink, right? Does it curve to the left or right?”

Oikawa blanched. “Ladies, please, this is ridiculous! You all know I’m in a relationship with-”

“They don’t have to know.”

One had tried reaching out to touch him, but was quickly thwarted when the setter grabbed her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across—Too far. Everyone came to a hush at the sudden display, cowering slightly at the intensity that pooled in his eyes, dark and cold as he fixed the whole group with a stern expression. You were right (obviously). Things escalated the second they were given an inch, with complete disregard to his boundaries and what you meant to him.

These weren’t fans. Not real ones, at least.

Oikawa deeply exhaled through his nose, calming himself down to keep from saying something he’d regret. Releasing the girl’s wrist, the setter gently moved her out of his personal space, resadjusting his bag and sporting a rather disinterested expression.

“It appears you all have misunderstood your place. I’ll forgive that disgusting comment only once. But, if this obscene, rude, and down right shameful behavior continues, I’ll have no choice but to inform the coach of your harassment and have you banned from future practices and games. Do I make myself clear?”

When you arrived to pick up Oikawa per usual, you were surprised to see that he was already waiting for you, not a single group ie in sight.

Skeptical, you looked around as you approached him, thinking those buzzards were still in listening distance, just waiting to pounce. But, when all you’re welcomed with was a big hug and kiss, you relaxed. Oikawa pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile. He explained everything that had happened, rubbing his the back of his neck in embarrassment. When he finished, he looked down at you with those same puppy eyes he gave you the other day.

“Please don’t say I told you so?”

You cooed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair at his nape. He leaned into your touch, content. Until you said, “I told you so.”

He frowned. “You’re MEAN.”

Once IWAIZUMI learned it involved Oikawa in any way, that’s all he needed to know to have no interest in the list. Sort of like Sakusa, if the topic gets brought up, he finds himself tuning out. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever mess his dumbass best friend got himself involved with. But, unfortunately for him, one doesn’t simply choose to be on the list…the list chooses you.

And one afternoon, the former ace was the unlucky winner.

‘Hajime Iwaizumi. 5’10ft hunk made of pure Husband Material. We’re talking the man who’ll open doors for you, pull out chairs, hold your bags without fuss, give you massages, cook you hearty meals, the whole nine yards. With that information in mind, you can’t tell me he’s not an absolute DOG in the bedroom. I’m talking about a man who’ll bully your insides, manhandle you and call you his “favorite cocksleave” or his “pretty little whore”. He’s the type to say the nastiest shit in your ear and tease you for the cute reactions you’d give him before shoving his tongue down your throat, while his dick kisses your appendix. Definitely a Hard Dom who only rewards good behavior, so if you plan to be a brat to this man—Good luck. But, as soon as he’s fucked that attitude outta you he’s back to being such a sweetheart! So so so attentive, so devoted, and will do anything for you. He’s God’s favorite. 1000000/10.’

“Oh? .. Hey, babe.” You said, curiously. Iwa grunted in response. “You know that list thingy Oikawa-?”

“Nope.” He easily answered, eyes focused ahead and he continued bench pressing the heavy bar.

You slap his chest. “You didn’t even let me finish!” He responded with a playful smirk, making you lightly slap him again.

Straddling his lap while he pumped iron was routine. It consisted of him doing what he does and you keeping him company, soaking up his presence until you inevitably left for your next lecture. Sometimes you kept count for him, other times you’d happily just be a distraction; today you did both.

“Haji,” you whined, wiggling a little. He ignored you on purpose, stubbornly refusing to indulge the topic. But that didn’t deter you from pestering him. “Ha-ji-me!”

“Ba-by-doll,” he echoed, grunting shortly after when he placed the heavy weight back on the rack, finished with the set. Panting, he sat up and readjusted you in his lap, hands resting on your thighs as he finally looked at you, amused at your scowl. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in that shitty list.”

“I’m not…until now.”

“Why?”

Turning your phone screen to show him the updated post, Iwa’s eyes scanned it before his brows furrowed in confusion, then tightened with irritation, jaw clenched and annoyance clear on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to unsee it and merely laying back down on the bench. “Block them.”

You gaped. “What? No way!”

“It’s nothing but perverts with too much time on their hands,” he grunted, lifting up the bar and beginning his set. “It’ll rot your brain. Or what’s left of it, anyways.”

With a dramatic gasp, you retorted with, “Jerk. I’ll retweet and tell them you also love sucking on toes, how ‘bout that?”

Iwa paused mid-push. He eyed you from his laying position, voice dangerously low as he said, “Try it and I’ll bench press you next.”

“Hm.”

Through squinted eyes, MATTSUN briefly scanned the bright screen of Maki’s phone displaying the updated post that started circulating around their group for the past few minutes. Without much reaction, one would think he was too buzzed to be able to even comprehend it.

But he understood all too well.

‘Issei Matsukawa. 6’2ft lazy ass with a third leg. Doesn’t matter if he looks like he uses 5-and-1 body wash, he smells DELECTABLE. And don’t get me started on the gray, low-hanging joggers he usually wears around campus—He needs to be arrested walking around with a concealed weapon in those sweats—sir, put it in me AWAY. The literal embodiment of “If it slaps his thigh when he walk, I’ll listen when he talk.” The ultimate brat-tamer tbh. You can’t get under his skin, he’s so nonchalant and laid back, your attitude would just be foreplay for him (HIS FREAKY ASS). And if you think he’s already big on soft??? Bitch. Gon head and call outta work for tomorrow. 50/10.’

“Uh..congrats?” Kindaichi gave an awkward thumbs up.

Maki snickered, tongue in cheek. “Yeah, man, how’s it feel being ‘dick of the week’? They’re even givin’ it nicknames ‘nd shit.” He scrolled further into the depths of debauchery. Peering from over his shoulder to see for himself, Kunimi‘s face scrunched in mild disgust.

“Someone called it ‘The Door-Knocker’? Fucking cringe.”

“Fucking retweet.” The strawberry blonde hummed in approval. “Oo, I like this one—‘The Punisher’. That’s badass.”

Yahaba snickered only to then start choking on his drink, snatching Kyotani by the front of his shirt for support as he hacked for air. The wing-spiker merely glared, winding his hand back to beat the shit out of his back. “Ack! Kyo—fuc-! BRO STOP.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re killing me!”

“Same thing,” he grunted.

Mattsun snorted, taking another swig of beer. After skimming through the thread, he lowly drawled out, “Cool, I guess. No big deal.”

He didn’t know much about the list, only that if you ended up on it you were pretty much an ace in the game of dick-slanging. But, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet telling him that he fucks. He had you to attest to all that, and your opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Not that either of you would kiss and tell.

His friends, on the other hand, felt otherwise. As far as they were concerned, Mattsun was a single man. And right now, he was shitting on a blessing sent from the gods. Maki halted his sip to eye his best friend, beer can lowering suspiciously. “No big deal?”

Mattsun shrugged. “t’s what I said.”

Yahaba finally caught his breath, chiming in with a winded, “Yeah right…you’re probably itching to check your DMs. Tell me ‘m wrong.”

“Ok. You’re wrong,” he replied, chugging the remainder of his beer can before crushing it. Yahaba went to argue, but Mattsun cut him off by speaking through a burp. “Don’t got the energy…to entertain someone who just wants my dick.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Door-knocker’?” Kunimi teased.

“I thought it was ‘The Punisher’..?” Watari asked, uncertain.

“I saw ‘Horse Cock’ on there.” Kindaichi grimaced.

Mattsun shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, ‘m not interested in racking up my body count anytime soon, so those DMs will just go unanswered. Hell, maybe even deleted.”

“Bullshit,” Maki challenged. He points an accusing finger. “There’s another reason. It’s ‘cause you’re already screwing around with someone, aren’t ya?”

A silence fell upon the group, all eyes instantly honing in on the taller male with metaphorical ears raised high in scandalized curiosity, some (read: Kindaichi and Yahaba) more obvious about it than others. Mattsun merely gave a halfhearted shrug, neither denying nor confirming the information. “Aha! See, see, look at ‘em, dodging the question! He’s so cuffed.”

“No shot,” Yahaba deadpanned, “mister ‘Noncommittal’ himself?”

Mattsun glared. “Oi. I commit to stuff.”

“He’s gettin’ defensive.” Kunimi pointed out with a wry grin.

“Must be true, then.” Kyotani nodded, mischievous glint in his eye.

The others hummed in agreement, theorizing about his type in partners and how there could be a potential special someone in their senior’s life, while the bastard behind it all watched smugly on the couch, sipping his drink like a gossiping old biddy. Mattsun squinted in annoyance at his best friend. “Et tu, dumbass?”

Maki raised his hands, “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You basically told on yourself. No guy in their right mind would ever pass up on that many opportunities unless he’s A) Stupid, B) Aro/Ace, or C) Spoken for. Now, my vote’s between A and C, but feel free to update me on your sexual orientation.”

Mattsun flipped him off, sporting a sarcastic expression.

His phone then began to vibrate on the table. As quickly as they looked at the former middle blocker, everyone’s gaze shot toward the offending device, then back on him; expectantly. Despite his calm exterior the brunette felt his heart-rate spike, brow twitching at the childish looks and jeers he started getting, borderline peer-pressuring him to pick it up.

After a few seconds of continuous ringing, Kunimi huffed in mild annoyance for him to, “Answer it, already.”

Maki added fuel to fire by saying, “Unless you want one of us to answer for you-” Mattsun snatched the phone off the table.

With the grace of a gorilla, he stood from the couch and quickly shuffled to the corner of the room. Answering it, he cleared his throat, face flushing at the chorus of snickers coming from behind him as he greeted you with a simple, but elated, “Hey.”

“Hey, ‘sei!”

“Hey,” he said again, breathing out a small chuckle. “Can’t sleep?”

You responded with your own chuckle. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe…ride around with me? I’m thinking McDonald’s. Oo! Or that wing place by campus, y’know, the one with the teriyaki flavor you liked? I think they don’t close until, like, 2am. Or…was it 1am?”

Mattsun snorted at your rambles, leaning against the wall as he let you continue. Unbeknownst to him, the guys were practically stacked on top of each other, stretching their ears to hear your voice. From what they could pick up, you sounded so upbeat, animated as you spoke. They watched in awe as their senior barely spoke but was engaged in whatever you were saying, nodding along and humming to let you know he was still listening. If he wasn’t faced the other way, they were certain they’d see a smitten expression on his face.

“Mhm.. mhm. Yeah, ‘m sure that squirrel really appreciated you sharing your almonds, baby.”

“BABY???” The group exclaimed.

The brunette jumped slightly, completely forgetting where he was for a moment there. He briefly looked over his shoulder before turning back towards the wall with a groan—Every single one of those bastards were either grinning or gaping in shock. Mattsun cursed under his breath. You made a noise of confusion.

“Are you with the guys? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! We can totally chill another night if you-”

“Nah, was just about to leave. Think I’ve entertained these assholes long enough.” He grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket, but not before thumping Maki on the head; the latter hissed through his teeth in pain as he held the throbbing spot. “Rather be with you anyways. I’ll send the address, lemme know when you’re outside.”

“O-Oh, okay then!” You giggled, flattered. “I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

He turned back to look at the group, smug as they still watched him with disbelief painted on their faces as Mr. Non-committal was ditching them to hang with his commitment. Like he tried to tell them before, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet. He had you, and that’s more than enough.

“Love you too, [_____].” Then, he walks out. Leaving the room in even more chaos compared to when he first answered the phone, immediately on his ass as the scrambled after him for answers.

“[______]?????”

Who would’ve guessed their sweet, beloved volleyball manager from high school was the one getting visits from “The Punisher”.

Within his inner circle, MAKI is usually overlooked. He’s not popular like Oikawa, nor jacked like Iwa, and he’s doesn’t have the whole ‘sexy aloof’ vibe like Mattsun. He’s just…tall. And funny—The ‘Pete Davidson’ of the group. At least, that’s what your friends called him. Somehow, once again during your outing with them at the mall the topic of your relationship became the focal point of the conversation, stretching their brains for why you were so enamored with a guy like him.

“He gotta be packin’. Like, I’m talking anaconda.”

“Type shit. Y’know what they say about them tall and skinny ones.”

You rolled your eyes, wry smirk spreading across your face as you busied yourself sifting through a clothes rack. The conspiratorial discussion had been going on for the past ten minutes, throwing anything and everything at the wall until something stuck—Meaning, waiting for you to confirm. “[_____]. Be honest. It’s ‘cause of his dick, right?”

A lady standing on the other side of the rack gasped in shock, face twisting up in revulsion as she clutched her purse before stomping away, scandalized. You snorted, peeking over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them while they struggled to suppress their childish merriment at the poor woman’s embarrassment.

“Quit it before they kick us out.” You attempted to sound stern, but there was no hiding your own amusement. One friend playfully nudged you while the other began to snicker. “And no, it’s not because of that. It’s a bonus, though.”

The first gasped, then exclaimed, “So it is big!”

“’m not finna start with you,” you replied looking back at the clothes, pretending not to know them as nearby customers gave the side-eye. Neither one paid any mind as they continued to gossip. “We have this conversation every time we go out. Give it a rest.”

“Not until you tell us what you see in him.”

“I mean, I get it, but then I look at his friends and…” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. You fumbled.”

“I’m not taking that from someone who slept with a door dasher just because they got the restaurant to put extra sauce in your bag.”

The guilty party gaped, “It wasn’t included in their instructions, they were a real one for that!”

“Still don’t know why you did it,” the other friend sighed. “The food was cold, and I’m certain they took some of my fries.”

“Shut up, we’re not talking about my poor life choices, we’re talking about [_____]’s.”

“Fuck you,” you laughed. “You two need to get off my man. You haven’t even properly met him yet. He’s a sweetheart, he treats me like royalty, and I don’t care what y’all say, that man is fine.”

“Please. You’re just dickmatized.”

“Enough about his dick already!”

Your outburst drew the attention of a nearby employee; the store manager. Even though she wore a professional smile, you could see death in her eyes. With a nervous smile, you gave an apologetic wave before quickly grabbing your friends by their arms and escorting yourselves out before you got banned. Your closet was getting full, anyways.

“Look…I know the guys I’ve dated in the past were…questionable. But, I really like this one. And I swear the pictures I showed you don’t do him justice, his goofy ass just never sits still.”

They looked skeptical, having heard that one before. You huffed.

“Alright. How about I invite him over tonight? That way you have a chance to get to know him better. And if you’re still iffy, then…then you’ll have to get over it because you love me dearly and want me to be happy and just because you don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I don’t, he is very gorgeous to me-!”

“[_____], honey, breathe.”

You stopped to inhale, then concluded with a small, “Please?”

They exchanged another look of skepticism, until the second added one condition. “He better not show up empty-handed.”

—

When the doorbell rang, the mood instantly shifted in the room, your friends going silent and gazes sharp as they looked at your door. Unbeknownst to all of you, on the other side of the door, Maki shivered, confused where that sudden chill came from. You gave them an eager, though strained, smile before scampering over to greet your awaiting guest. Upon opening the door, your smile slowly dropped at the sight of Maki sipping out of a large styrofoam cup with the words 'Big Gulp' written on it, dressed casually in sweats and a beanie, appearing very empty-handed.

After he swallowed, he gave a drawled, "Yo."

Your eye twitched. "Takehiro." He hummed, taking another sip of his drink. "Remember that important thing we discussed over the phone? Literally the only thing I asked you not to be when you got here?"

He thought about it, taking note of the daggers you were shooting at his cup. Maki made a noise of realization. "Oh, right. I bought snacks too, buuut I accidentally ate ‘em all on the way. My bad. But, look," he shook the cup, "technically still not empty-handed."

A small part of you wanted to be mad, frustrated at the least...but there was no hiding the giggle you rewarded him with, of which turned into more giggles. With sigh, you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. "You’re so dumb."

"Missed you, too." He playfully rolled his eyes, returning the hug and craning his neck to kiss your forehead. The two of you stood there for a moment, just basking in each other's warmth. But, the moment was short-lived when he gave a long, exaggerated exhale through his nose before murmuring, "Ready?"

"...No." You groaned.

"Damn, do they bite or something?"

"No, they’re just...unfiltered. I love them, don't get me wrong, but they can work on your nerves to an olympic degree. You'll see once we get inside...They're gonna ask about your dick, by the way. Just ignore it."

Maki snorted, bewildered. "I'll try my best."

"Also...try not to mention that...other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know," you raised your brows, looking over your shoulder in case they were eavesdropping before softly continuing, "that post."

It took a second, but he eventually caught on to what you meant.

‘Takehiro Hanamaki. 6’0ft shameless manslut (affectionately) who’s taken the campus by storm with his rather...interesting side hobby that pretty much has every student reaching for their wallets and switching to incognito mode on their browsers. Who would’ve guessed that lanky, low-eyed beanpole had the talent to film such erotic content and put a whole industry to shame with just his smartphone and a couple LED lights? After getting past the paywall and binging his videos (for research) it’s safe to say this man is very much a power bottom, maybe even a top depending on his mood, with a fowl mouth that’s not afraid to moan like a porn star. Best $200 I’ve ever spent (FOR RESEARCH). Highly recommend if you’re interested in having the best guided orgasm of your life—Link is in the thread! Get that bag, king. 10/10.’

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face instantly. He bounced his eyebrows, leaning down to teasingly say, "Ohh. That post. What? Don't want 'em to know how I make my living? Or, you scared they'll find out you're my number one supporter, always touching themselves just behind the camera-"

"Hiro!" You hissed, face set ablaze as you looked over your shoulder again, anxious. He found your reaction cute, using the straw in his cup to poke your cheek. You huffed at him. "I don't want them to pry. I doubt they've seen it since they go to a different uni, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"

He easily shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

You exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” You turned to head back inside, knowing your friends were just itching to bombard Maki, however you were stopped when he grabbed your arm.

“But.”

“…But?”

“I’ll let the dick-related questions slide and keep my side hustle under wraps, but you have to do something for me in exchange for my good behavior.”

You tilted your head, nervous. “Like what?”

His grinned mischievously, eyes half-mast as he used his free hand to hold your jaw, making you gasp softly when he tilted your head back. “Instead of being behind the camera in my next video…my number one supporter has to be the star.”

You rapidly blinked, heat traveling throughout your body once you registered his words. Fumbling over your own, you didn’t have time to protest when the door behind you opens wide, revealing your impatient friends. Maki let go of your jaw and settled for wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he waved at them with the hand that still had the large cup in it.

“‘sup.” He flashed them a sly grin. Maki took in their shocked faces, hoping they were a good sign as he introduced himself. “[_____]’s told me a lot about you guys. Hope you didn’t mind me crashing your get together.”

They absolutely did not mind.

You weren’t lying—Those pictures you showed did him dirty. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the uno reverse that was Takehiro Hanamaki. From his lax posture and cozy demeanor, sleepers build and cute smile, it’s no wonder you were drawn to him. Plus he’s funny with a big dick (allegedly)?????

After you composed yourself, still reeling from your conversation earlier, you eventually mustered up a triumphant smile at your friends as they gaped up at Maki, speechless. “So? You guys still think I fumbled?”

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Let Me Take Care of You

aegon x dragonseed!fem!reader

Summary: You find work at a pleasure house to help support yourself and come across a very generous client. You were content to only serve drinks and allow the men who chased after your silver hair tip you in hopes of bedding you until this client offers to take care of you. 

Warnings: 18+ mentions of death(not mc), swearing, corruption, thigh riding, fingering, oral(f), p in v, loss of virginity 

Authors Note: idk he’s a bit of a sugar daddy and it’s kinda hot, proud of myself for making an aegon fic w/o angst for once but that’s bc its 2% plot and 98% porn

Word Count: 4.8k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Growing up I watched my mother leave our small apartments before the sun would set and not come home until it was well in the sky again. She promised me I would never have to go into her line of work and would always keep me hidden inside. Once a month she would spend the money on dye and my telling silver hair would come out a dark shade of night. The violet eyes were harder to hide but no one pays attention to you when you’re a woman and you keep your head down. 

A year ago my mother left for the night and never returned. I was only ten and nine and had no income for myself. I waited for a fortnight and when she never returned I steeled myself and went out into the streets to see if I could find any word on her. I covered my head of silver in a scarf since I had no dye and roamed the streets looking for her place of work. After pushing through hundreds of bodies in the streets I found the wooden door and made my way inside. The stench of alcohol and lust was heavy in the air as I waded my way to the bar. 

“What can I do you for, girl?” the bar hands gruff voice spoke over the others. 

“I’m looking for my mother.” I offered her name and an older woman came from the back and nodded for me to follow her. 

The woman sat me down and told me of my mother’s death at the hand of greedy older men who didn’t want to pay. The woman looked me over with sadness and pity before offering me work. I shook my head saying I wouldn’t and that’s when she glanced at my hair. She told me she could find me other work within the pleasure house and if I ever changed my mind there would be good coin. 

I reluctantly accepted the offer because I knew I would need coin and soon. I spend my nights here waiting tables and laughing at crude jokes. Their hands and eyes always seem to linger but the patrons know that I am off limits per the madams word. I was content enough and the income was good but I so badly dreamed of a better life. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The first time I saw him I stumbled and dropped my tray of drinks. He looked up and his lilac eyes caught mine and he was standing above me in an instant. He held out his hand and helped me rise from the dusty floor. 

“Gods,” he groans looking me over. “Who are you?” he takes some of my hair between his fingers. “And where have you been hiding?” his hand trails to my chin and searches over my violet eyes. 

“Y/n.” my voice too small for the crowded room. 

“Who are your parents?” he tugs me back to his table that’s overflowing with drinks and friends. 

“My mother was no one. I know not who my father is.” I shake my head trying to get my hand out of his grasp. 

“Mm, probably Daemon.” he looks me over. “You shall be mine.” he pulls me down onto his lap and I gasp. 

“I will not be.” I stand looking down at him as he laughs looking up at me. “I am no one’s but my own.” I hum taking a step back. 

“So you mean you’re a virgin?” his eyes darken. 

“That is hardly any of your business.” I turn up my nose at him. 

“Given our setting and how deep my pockets are I say that it is.” he friends start to turn their attention to us. 

“I don’t care.” I shrug my shoulders and walk away hearing his friends laugh at him. 

That night I went back to my small apartments and had a fitful nights rest filled with that handsome strangers face. I curse myself for wanting to know his name and to be able to see him again. I push the thought out of my head and blow the candle out before turning over and shutting my eyes.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The silver haired stranger came back the next day but alone this time. I floated around the room avoiding him and helping out other patrons. I felt his eyes on me for an hour until I stopped at his table and looked at him expectantly. He folds his hands and looked up to me with a smile. 

“How much?” he licks his lips. 

“For what?” I raise my eyebrow. 

“Your maidenhead.” my cheeks flush at his words. 

“I’m not for sale.” I say quickly. 

“Then I’ll have an ale.” he offers me a gold mark and my eyebrows scrunch. 

“This is too much.” I try to give it back but he shakes his head. 

“I was thinking it wasn’t enough.” he pulls out a sack and sets it on the table. 

“You’re not getting my maidenhead tonight.” I roll my eyes and walk to go get his ale. I sigh once I get behind the bar to fill his cup. I pray that my blush recedes by the time I make it back to his table. I grab the glass and push through the bodies. 

“So I just can’t have it tonight?” he smiles taking the glass from my hand. 

“What?” I tilt my head. 

“You said I can’t have your maidenhead tonight. So I can take it a different night?” my blush revives much to my displeasure. 

“I don’t even know your name.” he chuckles at my words.

“Aegon.” he looks up taking a sip of ale. 

“Why do you think I’m giving my maidenhead to you, Aegon?” I look him over. 

“Because I asked nicely?” he shrugs. 

“You didn’t.” I turn and he grabs my wrist. 

“Do you wish for me to beg for it?” he pulls me back to him. 

“Is that not what you’ve been doing the past two nights?” I chuckle shaking my head. 

“What if I show you other things first?” he smirks.

“Like what?” I look down to him with a raised brow and his smile widens. 

“I’d like to show you instead of tell you.” he downs his ale and stands. 

“Right now?” I squeak nervously. “I have other tables.” I look around the crowded room. 

“I’m sure if you tell your madam you’re taking me to a private room she won’t tell you no.” he brushes a strand of my hair back. 

“I-“ I shake my head willing my blush to go away. My breathing deepens at the thought of bringing him to a private room but I also don’t know if I’m ready for that. “I don’t know.” I nibble my lip.

“I promise I won’t take your maidenhead. Tonight.” he smirks. “Not even if you beg me to.” I roll my eyes at his words. 

I look at him having an internal battle. I’m not stupid, I’ve heard of him and I know his reputation but I can’t help myself. He’s just so handsome and I’m curious. I turn and look for my madam and when I spot her I see her nodding at me encouragingly. I sigh and turn back to Aegon who is waiting for my response. 

“Fine, but I can change my mind whenever I want.” he nods his head quickly and pulls me in the direction of the closed off rooms. Once we’re behind the curtain he pulls me against him. 

“Have you come before?” his voice low and I shake my head. “Not even by yourself? You don’t touch this sweet little-“

“No, Aegon.” I bring my hand up to his mouth. I remove my hand and he’s smiling even wider. 

“Surely you’ve kissed someone at least?” he raises an eyebrow and my cheeks catch on fire. 

“No.” his eyes widen. “If you make fun of me I will walk back out these curtains.” I step back crossing my arms. 

“I would be more than happy to teach you the ways of pleasure.” he hums caressing my cheek.

“My dress is staying on.” I try to keep my voice steady but it wavers. 

“There’s plenty of pleasure to be had above clothes.” he steps closer to me and my body heats. “Can I kiss you?” he leans in closer and I look to him with wide eyes and nod my head. When his lips touch mine I look at him unsure of what to do. “Relax.” he murmurs against my lips and trails his fingers up my arms. I let out a shaky breath and nod my head. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t- I don’t know what to do.” I shake my head flushing furiously. 

“I’m here to show you, my sweet girl.” he hums brushing my hair back. “Close your eyes.” I look at him worried. “My hands will stay above your clothes.” he nods encouragingly. 

“Okay.” my voice small as my eyes flutter shut. This time when he places his lips on mine it feels more soft and coaxing. He licks along my lip and my heart starts to beat faster. His hands land on my hips and I gasp at his touch and he pushes his tongue into my mouth. My eyes fly open and pull back. 

“It’s okay.” he nods his head pulling me back. “Just follow my movements.” he whispers as he places his lips on mine again. This time when his tongue explores my mouth I move mine along with his. They dance together and he pulls me closer. I sigh into his mouth as I’m encased in the taste and feel of him. He squeezes my waist pulling me flush against him. 

“Aegon,” I gasp pulling my head back. 

“Hm?” he kisses down the side of my jaw. “Kisses here are a different kind of pleasure.” he mumbles kissing across my neck. I gasp as he sucks softly and my hands cling onto his arms. He licks softly as my breathing deepens. A moan falls from my lips as he nips against my pulse. 

“Aegon,” I wiggle out of his arms suddenly hot. 

“Gods look how worked up you are.” he smirks at me. 

“That’s enough for tonight.” I go to flee the room and he grabs my wrist. 

“Here, this is for you.” he places his sack of coin in my hand. 

“I don’t want to be paid for that. It makes me feel-“ I shake my head making a face. 

“I’m not paying you for your time, I’m just giving you coin because I want to. Use it for whatever.” he shrugs. “I like the idea of taking care of you, sweet girl.” he hums and my blush revives. 

“Thank you.” my voice small as I slip the coin into my pocket. 

“I will see you tomorrow.” he smiles as I slip through the curtain once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Aegon has been coming to my pleasure house every night for the past moon. He teases me relentlessly throughout the night before he pulls me back behind a curtain and molds our lips together. We keep our lips locked for hours and when I get too worked up I turn and leave with a coin heavy pocket. The amount of coin he has given me could allow me to leave this job but I don’t want to stop seeing him. That thought alone frustrates me. 

“How are you tonight, sweet girl?” he hums as he pulls the curtains closed. I pull him against me and press my lips to his in response and he chuckles against me. He backs us up to the bed and I pull back. 

“Not yet.” I shake my head. 

“You torture me.” he groans. “Let me show you another pleasure.” his eyes pleading. 

“Above clothes?” I nibble my lip. 

“Of course.” he chuckles tugging me over to the chair he sits down and guides me between his legs. “Straddle one of my thighs.” my cheeks heat at his words. He goes to pull my skirts up and I grab his hands with wide eyes. 

“You said above clothes.” my brows scrunch. 

“You have small clothes on, no?” he smiles as my face gets redder as I nod. “I’m just lifting up your skirts so you can settle more comfortably on my thigh.” he bunches up my skirts and I place my legs on either side of his thigh. He lets my skirts drop and pulls me against him. He pulls my lips against his and I settle onto his thigh. His hands go to my waist and pull me against his thigh.

“Aegon,” his name falls from my mouth breathlessly as I rest my hands behind his neck.

“It’s okay.” he hums as kisses me once more. Our tongues tangle together and he starts to rock me against his thigh. My small clothes become wet as I squirm against him as I gasp into his mouth. He pulls back and looks to me as he grinds my hips down. 

“Aegon, I-“ my voice broken as my hips move with him. 

“Does that feel good?” he looks up to me.

“Yes, I- please,” I whimper resting my forehead against his. My hips move on their own and my cheeks flush at the action. He tilts up and captures my lips swallowing all of my noises. I let out small gasps as I feel my stomach tightening. “I don’t know what’s-“ I cry out as he rocks my hips faster. 

“Shh, just focus on the feeling, sweet girl, I got you.” he murmurs against my lips. I roll my hips on his thigh as he starts to kiss down my neck. I lose myself in the feeling and I cling to him as pleasure bursts through me.

“Aegon,” his name like a prayer as he keeps moving me against him as I try to catch my breath. “Too much,” I whine trembling above him. 

“You did so good.” he kisses me softly. 

“I liked that.” I mumble against his lips. 

“I did too. You looked and sounded absolutely divine. Just wait until I show you more.” he kisses down my neck. 

“No more tonight.” my voice still breathy as I rise off of his thigh. I look down and see the wet mark on his thigh and my eyes widen in horror. “I’m sorry, do you want me to clean it or-“ 

“Oh no, I will walk out of here proudly with this.” he rises walking out of the room with me. “Before I forget sweet girl.” he hums handing me coin and I turn to him in the abandoned hall.

“Why do you keep giving me coin?” I scrunch my brows searching his eyes. 

“I want to take care of you.” he brushes my hair behind my ears. “What if I got you a new place. A nicer place?” he hums and I shake my head confused. 

“I don’t know.” I nibble my lip. “That’s a lot, Aegon.” 

“I would like you to live inside the Keep with me but I have a feeling you’ll say no.” he pulls me closer to him once more. 

“No,” I shake my head with wide eyes. “A new place fine but not the Red Keep.” 

“I’ll have you in a grand home by the end of the week.” he kisses me quickly before bringing me back out into the main room. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

My new home is located on the complete other side of the city than my job and Aegons only help with that was to tell me to quit. I had no reason to work there anymore. Aegon has seen to it that all of my needs are met and exceedingly so. The home I have is larger than anything one person would need and he’s made it so that there are servants and maids and I feel so out of place. They dote on me and do anything I could possibly need and more. 

“We have dinner prepared. Is there anything else you need before we leave for the night?” one of the soft spoken servants asks. 

“No, thank you. Have a good night.” I offer them a smile and they filter out the front door. 

I sigh and sprawl across my couch waiting for my dinner companion to come over. I hate to admit that I look forward to our nightly meals and pleasure. I thought I would get bored during the days but I’ve been able to find comfort in reading and embroidery. I sit up from the couch when I hear his telling knocks. 

“Hi.” my voice small as I open the door. No matter how many times I see him I still get nervous. 

“How are you today, sweet girl?” he steps in and pulls me into a tight embrace.

“Better now that you’re here.” I hum into his neck. “How was your day?” I pepper his neck with kisses. 

“Nothing compared to how it is now.” his words cause a blush to cover my cheeks. 

“Come, dinner is ready.” I turn to head to the table and he slips his fingers through mine. 

“How is your staff? Are they treating you well?” he pulls my chair out for me. 

“Yes, very well, Aegon. I don’t see why I need so many of them..” I watch him as he walks around the table to sit across from me. 

“Because I don’t want you to have to do anything.” he smiles at me as before he begins to eat.

“Are you going to hire someone to pleasure me next?” his eyes darken at my words. 

“No, that is my job.” he sets his fork down. 

“It was only a joke. I wouldn’t replace you.” I chuckle. 

“Do you pleasure yourself during the day?” he tilts his head. 

“No.” I say quickly. “There’s too many people here.” I shake my head. 

“I can make it so they’ll leave for an hour so you can touch yourself and think about me.” he chuckles at my flushed face. 

“No,” I shake my head quickly. “I don’t- I don’t touch myself.” I avoid his eyes. 

“Do you know how?” he licks his lips and I shake my head. “Can I show you after dinner?” 

“Under my clothes?” my heart beats faster at the thought. 

“Yes, if that’s okay. I could just pull up your skirts too. Whatever makes you the most comfortable.” I shake my head picking up my fork to eat again. We eat in silence as I start to squirm thinking about what’s to come. Every time I glance at him he’s looking at me with dark eyes. I start to get up to clear the table. 

“Are you done?” I stand next to him waiting to take his plate. 

“I can clean up too.” he hums standing up with me. We walk to the kitchen and the energy between us is tense. I take the plate from his hands and place it in the sink. When I turn back to him he pulls me against him kissing me. “Can we go to the bed?” he whispers against my lips.  

“Yeah,” I nod grabbing his hand. I walk us into my bed chambers and turn to him nibbling my lip. 

“Do you want your dress on or off?” his hands trail around my waist. 

“Off.” my voice small. 

“You’re sure?” his hands trail up to the laces. 

“Yes, Aegon.” I nod my head. He slowly undoes the laces and begins to slip it down my shoulders. It pools around my feet and he steps back and looks at me left in my slip. 

“What of this?” he steps closer as hands reach for my waist. 

“Can it stay for now?” I ask squeezing my thighs. 

“Of course. Come,” he leads me to the bed. He sits back against the head board and helps me sit between his legs. His hands rest on my thighs and I suck in a breath. He opens my legs resting them against his. “Are you ready?” his voice sounds strained as I settle back into him. 

“Yes,” I nod my head and his hands begin to roam up my side. 

“When you’re by yourself you can work yourself up to it.” he hums as his hands linger under my breasts. His soft touch over my silk is sending shivers down my body. His fingers graze over my hardened peaks and I push back into him. 

“Aegon,” I shudder as he continues to ghost his thumbs around them and I squeeze my thighs shut. 

“Focus on the feeling, sweet girl.” he whispers before he starts to kiss my neck. His fingers incase my nipples and roll them as I whimper in his arms. “How does it feel?” he pinches them and I gasp. 

“Aegon,” I wiggle back into him and he grunts. 

“Feels good?” I hear the smirk in his voice. He starts to spread my thighs once more and I’m panting by the time he starts to slide his hands up. He trails a single finger through my wetness and my legs clamp around his hand. 

“Aegon,” I whine as my hands hold his arm. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I shake my head at his words. 

“No.” my voice broken.

“Let me make you feel good, sweet girl.” his other hand goes to my legs to open them once more. His finger slides through my wetness once more as I squirm in his arms. He swirls around my bud and my legs start shaking as I cry out. He starts quick circles and I begin to arch off of his chest. 

“Please, I- Aegon,” I whimper as my legs shut around him as my pleasure washes through me. He continues to circle his fingers and I whine grabbing his wrist. 

“That’s what you can do during the day.” he chuckles lowly still wiggling his fingers. 

“I’d rather have you do it.” my breathing deepens. 

“Can I try something else?” he kisses up my jaw. 

“Like what?” I lean back into him. 

“I want to make you come with my tongue.” he moves out from behind me and I fall back onto the bed. He settles between my thighs and I prop up and look down to him. 

“What do I do?” I bite my lip as his hands trail up my thighs. 

“Tell me how much you like it.” he smiles before licking up my slit. 

“Oh,” I squeak. His tongue swirls around my bud and I gasp fisting the sheets. “Aegon,” I whine moving against his face. I feel him chuckle into me as he pulls my hips against him. My breathing comes out in quick gasps as his tongue laps against me. 

“I’m gunna- I’m, please,” I jerk against his face and his tongue slips around my entrance. “Yes,” I cry as his nose brushes against me. His tongue pushes into me and his name pours from my mouth. My legs squeeze around his head as my pleasure tears through me. He continues to lick me and I whimper above him. 

“I want to stay here for a while.” he buries himself back between my thighs and my hand flies to his hair as I gasp above him. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Hi.” my eyebrows scrunch as I open the door and see Aegon and it’s only mid morning. “You’re here early.” I hum letting him in. 

“I had a bad morning.” he sighs pulling me into his arms. 

“Aegon, the staff.” my eyes dart around the room. 

“I don’t care.” he mumbles against my neck. “I just want to spend the day with you.” he lets go and lays back on my couch. 

“What happened?” I sit in the chair across from him. 

“My mother yelled at me and,” he sighs and shakes his head. “I just want to be with you.” 

“You can stay.” I hum and his sad eyes slide to mine. “Do you want me to get you anything?” 

“Wine?” he sits up and I nod my head going to the kitchen. I smooth my dress and hair before I pour us each a glass. I bring them back out to him and he takes a drink once it’s in his grasp. 

“What do you want to do?” I look across to him. 

“Send the staff home.” he looks at me with dark eyes. 

“Why?” my voice small. 

“I want to make you feel good.” he sits up. He stands up and walks into the kitchen and starts to dismiss the staff. I stand near the front door with flushed cheeks. Once the last servant leaves he pulls me against him. “I need you.” his voice pleading and I nod my head. 

“You can.” I nod my head searching his eyes. 

“If you’re not ready that’s okay.” he holds my cheeks. 

“I want you, Aegon.” I kiss his lips. “You can have my maidenhead.” he groans against me and pulls me upstairs to my bed. He unlaces my dress and I’m quickly stepping out of it. His hands reach for the edges of my slip and I nod as he searches my eyes. 

“You’re positive?” I nod my head to him quickly. He lifts it over my head and I look to him as he drinks in my body before him. “Gods, my sweet girl. Let me just touch you.” his hands reach for my waist. 

“Please,” I nod my head and his hands reach for my breasts. I sigh as he kneads against my flesh. 

“Lay back on the bed.” he nods and I scoot back as he starts to pull his tunic off. I watch him with lidded eyes as he starts to tug off his pants. I look to his length and bite my lip before looking back up to him. He crawls between my legs and licks at my wetness. As his lips encase my bud I feel one of his fingers dip into my core. 

“Aegon,” I gasp as he starts to move his finger faster. A second finger starts to slowly push in and I press myself against his face as his tongue continues to lap at me. “Yes, please,” I whine as my stomach starts to coil. His tongue lashes my throbbing bud and I come undone around his fingers crying out. 

“I’ll go slow.” he hums pulling his fingers out. He rubs his tip around my wetness to spread against himself. “Ready?” I feel him at my core. 

“Yes.” I hold him against me. He pushes in and I feel myself splitting open. “Aegon.” I grip his arms as he stops. 

“Relax for me, sweet girl.” he hums kissing my neck. His thumb brushes against my bud and small whimpers leave my mouth. He pushes in more and I sigh squirming. “Are you okay?” his voice strained as he stops again. 

“Yes,” he pushes in more and my eyes shut focusing on the feeling. “More, Aegon.” my voice breathy as I begin to relax around him. He starts a slow rhythm that has me whining beneath him. His thumb forever swirling against my bud has me shaking in his arms and my high bursts through me unexpectedly and he stops his movements groaning. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. I cling against him as he starts to rock into me again as he starts to seek his own pleasure. His lips capture mine as my hips move to meet his. “You’re perfect, sweet girl.” he whispers as his hips falter. I cry out at his words. My toes curl as I come undone again. He slows inside of me as his warmth spreads. 

“I want you to do that again.” I pant and he lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“Just give me a couple minutes.” he rolls off of me pulling me against his chest. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

I need this man biblically 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna

[alotofpockets]

Serious about you | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you cross a line with your best friend

Warnings: smut (with a plot), 18+ MDNI

A/n: @scribblesofagoonerr thank you for your support throughout writing this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.2k

-----

“Leah!” You yell out for your best friend when you see her walk through the doors of St. George’s Park for the first time since she had done her ACL. At the sound of your voice she turns around with a smirk on her face, “You’re happy I’m here, aren’t ya? Your day just got ten times better darling’.” You roll your eyes and hug her. 

“Always happy to see you, but the comeback makes it just a tad bit more special.” Leah’s smirk grew impossibly bigger. “Knew you thought I was special.” There was only so much of Leah’s flirty personality you could take at once until your body would go into panic mode, so you decided you had to step away. “Yeah, great seeing you, I gotta gay- go! I gotta go.” You quickly walk off cursing yourself, while Leah’s proud smile goes right past you.

Beth, who noticed the whole interaction, followed you out of the hall. “I see your crush on Leah is going well.” You sink into one of the chairs in the room. “Oh god, people saw that?” The blonde chuckles, “I think everyone saw you run off with a face like a tomato.” What a great start to camp you thought while your face was slowly returning to its regular colour.

“When are you just going to tell her about your feelings?” Beth was well aware of your feelings for the Lionesses Captain, as she was often the one you came to for advice and a listening ear. Her being your roommate this camp would probably come very handy for those reasons, besides Beth of course being a great friend of yours.

“You know I can't, Beth. Everybody knows Leah doesn't do serious relationships.” It was well known that Leah hadn’t had a serious relationship since Jordan, every girl she had seen since was just a meaningless hookup, so there really was no use in you ever confessing your feelings for her. 

Once you’ve come down from your embarrassing moment on the first day back at camp, you and Beth join the rest of the girls again. It was great seeing everyone again, and your embarrassment was soon forgotten.

The next morning the dining hall was buzzing with energy and laughter. Everyone was happy to be reunited, and was catching up on the time since they had last seen each other. Beth nudged your shoulder, “Look who’s coming over.” 

Your heart started racing as Leah walked in your direction with a beaming smile. Internally you were screaming at yourself, Leah was your best friend, you shouldn’t panic every time she’s near. It used to not be this bad, but ever since Leah started making flirty comments towards you, your brain just went full mush.

“Morning, love. Did you sleep well?” You tried to sound casual, but your mind went a little numb at the nickname she only used on you. “Morning, Lee. Yeah, I slept well. How about you?”

“I slept great. Any plans for today?” Oh god she wanted to have an even longer conversation, while you still had the love on your mind. You glance at Beth for help, but she just raises an eyebrow and smiles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Uhm well just training with the team and recovery after.”

Leah nods contently, “Alright sounds good. I’ll make sure we’re paired up for drills so we can catch up some more.” You smile and nod, “Looking forward to it.” Leah smiles and turns around to get her own breakfast. 

You turn back to Beth, “Looking forward to it? Why did I say that?” Beth rolls her eyes, “Well, clearly because you’re in love with the woman.” You groan, “Don’t say that out loud!” Beth laughs at your antics, “Relax, it’s just drills. Also, it’s just Leah.” With a huff you respond, “Yeah, just Leah. Mind telling my mind that when it stops working when she’s near?”

One thing about Leah was that when it concerned football, she was always serious. So, while you were running drills with her as your partner, the flirty side of Leah subsided. It wasn’t like she was only serious, you were still having fun while training. You were actually very much enjoying spending time with Leah like this, no embarrassing yourself this way.

Over the next couple of days the team was in full training mode, which came with plenty of recovery where you would relax with the girls. There were movie nights where Leah would sit besides you and put her arm around the back of the couch, and team walks where Leah would always find her way to your side. 

Tonight on the final day before your first match, you joined a few of the girls to recover in the hotel hot tub. You were deep in conversation with Beth and Lotte when Leah walked up to the hot tub, “Got room for one more?” She takes off her training top, leaving her in her sports bra and shorts like the rest of the girls. Only since Leah wasn’t like the rest of the girls to you, your eyes fell on her toned stomach, making you fully space out on the conversation you were having. 

“Earth to y/n.” Beth says loud enough for only you and Lotte to hear. You snap your eyes away from Leah at Beth poking your shoulder. “You’re drooling.” You want to defend yourself, but you know there is no use since she had seen you staring on full display. 

You tried your best to keep your eyes away from Leah, but each time you glanced over you were either faced with a smile or a smirk from the blonde, making your heart beat faster. On the other side of the hot tub, outside of your field of hearing Keira nudged Leah, “I think you might give her a heart attack if you keep flexing, mate.” Which only made Leah smirk again.

Slowly more and more of the girls started leaving the hot tub, until only you and Leah were left. She sat with her arms spread over the edge of the small pool, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. You don’t know what came over you to check her out without anyone around the two of you to cause enough distraction for it to go unnoticed. 

“Are you just going to keep staring from the other side, or are you going to come join me?” Leah asked with glint behind her eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You move across the hot tub and sit down beside her. She moves her arm that was laying on the edge behind you to your shoulder and starts drawing patterns on it with her fingers.

You hadn’t said a word to Leah since the other girls left, and your eyes were focussed on a glimmer in the water. Leah was doing things to your body right now that you couldn’t control. “You had no problem checking me out when the girls were here, what has gotten you so shy now?” Your only reaction was the blush spreading over your cheeks and the way you swallowed hard. Leah moved her other arm to turn your head her way softly by your chin. She was about to say something, when she realised that you were staring at her lips.

Leah starts slowly leaning in, to give you enough time to stop what was about to happen. You didn’t make her stop, so she placed her lips gently on yours. When Leah realised you weren’t kissing her back, she quickly pulled away again. “Sorry, I thought there was a vibe.” That’s the moment you sprung to life. “There was, sorry.” Leah’s smile returned to her face, “There was?” You nod and lean in this time.

You knew you should stop, but this was the only way you would ever have Leah and besides every fibre in your body telling you that this was only going to end up hurting you, you just couldn’t stop. Before you knew it, you were sitting in Leah’s lap and the two of you were fully making out. 

When Leah’s hands started moving up your thighs, you broke the kiss and halted her. Leah was about to apologise, but you were quick to speak first, “It’s okay, just not here.” You said looking around. Even though the area was currently empty, it was still a public place, and you were not about to have a stranger or even worse one of your teammates walk in on you.

With big towels around your bodies, you made it to Leah’s room. Leah had never been happier to have a room to herself during camp, the perks of being the captain. Without missing a beat, she closes the door behind you and pushes you up against it. Every thought of this not being a good idea left your mind the moment she slotted her leg between yours.

Leah’s hands roamed your body, losing both your towels in the process. It all happened very fast, the next thing your remaining clothes were scattered around Leah’s room and you were laying in her bed. Leah was laying on top of you and kissing your neck, with her hands between your legs. 

The pleasure she was bringing you with simply her lips and her fingers, was overwhelming and perfect at the same time. At no point did you want her to stop, even telling her “More.” A couple of times between pants, which Leah happily obliged to. 

You didn’t realise you had fallen asleep until you woke up the next morning, still naked in Leah’s bed. At first you’re a little disoriented but then it all comes flooding back to you. You crossed a line with your best friend. Your best friend that you were in love with. Your best friend who is the captain of your team. 

Quickly but quietly you get out of bed and put on a clean training kit from Leah, since yours was still wet from carelessly being thrown on the floor last night. You take your own stuff with you and throw it in the laundry on your way back to your own hotel room.

“Well good morning to you, stranger.” You had hoped Beth had still been asleep and you could pretend that you had come in after she had gone to bed last night, but all of that was out the window now that she was looking at you with questions behind her eyes. You confess everything to Beth, who simply cheers you on for finally acting on your feelings. It doesn’t feel that way to you though, Leah didn’t know about your feelings, and knowing Leah this was just a one time thing. At least that was what you were telling yourself. 

Before you could talk about it more, you had to head to breakfast since you had an early bus to take for your first match. You didn’t get to talk to Leah, and quite honestly you were trying your best to ignore her for the time being. 

The first time you interacted with Leah was after the match when you had given your jersey to a fan in the strands. Leah had rushed to your side and handed you her jacket. You thanked her before bringing your focus back to the fans. 

On the bus ride back, you avoided Leah again, opting to sit next to Lotte instead of Leah or Beth. You didn’t know what you wanted, but talking about last night was definitely not it. Back at SGP everyone goes their own way again. You opt on staying with some of the girls in the lounge and put on a movie. About halfway into the movie Keira walks in, “Hey y/n, Leah wants to see you in the meeting hall.” 

You curse yourself, this was it. You had ruined your national career because you couldn’t stop yourself. Nervously you opened the door and found Leah leaning against one of the tables with her arms crossed. Her first words came as a surprise to you, “Why did you leave this morning?”

For a moment you don’t know what to say, standing in front of her with a slightly furrowed brow. “You wanted me to stay?” Leah’s serious expression softened, “Yes, of course I wanted you to stay.” You take a deep sigh, knowing you need to speak your mind. “Lee, last night was… amazing, but you don’t do serious relationships. I left because I didn’t want to make it awkward.”

Leah realises what you’re talking about. “Look, I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation concerning that, but this is different. I haven’t brought a girl home for months because you’ve been clouding my mind. I’m serious about you. Last night meant everything to me, and if it did for you too, I would really like to explore this new territory with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Leah was feeling similar to how you were feeling about her? “It did mean everything to me too. I- sorry, I didn’t expect this, I am a bit at a loss for words.” Leah smiled and stepped towards you. “Maybe instead of using words, I can kiss you?” You nod and Leah crashes her lips on yours. 

-----

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[samoankpoper21]

Save Me I'm Yours - Jo Togame

Sequel to Numb

Huge thank you to @cherryblossomwitch26 and @calculust-prime 🫶🏽 I'm sorry if this isn't as great as the first one 😅

Jo Togame x chubby! reader

Content warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!), p in v, creampie

Genre: slight angst, smut, smut with plot

Word count: 2.5k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED 18+! MDNI!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Watching the rain fall heavily in droves you sighed. You hated rainy days, not for the typical romcom reasons but because rainy days meant unpredictability for the clinic: some rainy days you saw dozens of patients, others meant you saw at most 5; today was the latter. You were also reminded of your nasty spat with Togame, not having seen him since. Deciding to close the clinic early you trudged upstairs to your attached apartment finalizing on a bubble bath; might as well take advantage of this shitty weather and relax.

With the rain having stopped, Togame looked to Choji. "Choji, I need to go. There's someone important to me-"

"Is it that beautiful girl you told me about?" Smiling bashfully he nodded. "Kame-chan, make sure you make things right with her."

Togame ran towards the clinic the sun beaming down slightly warming him. He was excited to tell you about the revelation that he and the rest of Shishitoren had, wanting to tell you about how they finally got their sun back and how, later on down the road, he wanted you to meet Sakura, his new "friend" and the rest of Furin. "Y/N! Y/N!" Attempting to slide the doors of the clinic open he realized that the rainy weather probably didn't bring much patients in. Taking 2 steps up at a time to your attached apartment he turned your doorknob shaking his head and smiling at the fact you never locked your door. Stepping inside your living room he calls out, "Y/N?" Seeing your bedroom door cracked he made his way towards it. Placing a hand over his beating heart he peeled your door open slowly.

"Y/N!" Wrapped only in your towel you turned to see a panting Togame, eyes warm, hair loose from his braid, noting that something was different, a fragment of his former self. Turning back around to your drawer you ask, "What are you doing here Jo?" Smiling he went into detail about the earlier events: how he met this annoying acquaintance named Sakura whom he came to respect, how Sakura made him realize how far he's strayed from his ideals, and finally how Choji was "back from his funk" after having a "conversation" with Furin's leader Hajime Umemiya. A small smile graced your face as you listened; whenever Togame was excited his manner of speech was a tad, just a tad bit faster. Taking a shaky breath closing your drawer with your back still facing him you ask, "That's all great and all Jo but why are you telling me this?"

"Wh-what do you mean why am I telling you all this? You're the first person I think of whenever something happens. Why do you think I always come to you?" Biting your quivering lip you finally turn to him praying that the tears lining your eyes wouldn't fall. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat you finally meet his eyes, your expression deadpan. "I told you the last time that once you go back to Shishitoren that that was the last time you and I would see each other." Seeing him clench and unclench his bruised, skin rubbed raw fists your eyebrows shot up. "Are you here so I can patch you up again? Is that it?" Togame knew you were hurt, he's attuned to your emotions after years of being together. "Y/N, I'm saying that Shishitoren has finally found its sun again, that we'll continue on the path that we were originally on." Turning to your drawer rummaging for a pair of panties you walked past him saying, "Well I guess I should go say thanks to Umemiya-san then." Grabbing your wrist preventing you from going any further he stutters out his eyes scanning your face frantically, "Wha-why would you say thanks to Umemiya-san?"

"For knocking some got damn sense in your head!" Inhaling deeply he lets out a breath, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly. "Y/N-"

"I heard about all the shit you've done: 'skinning' people for not being strong enough, that's practically picking on the weak! You guys might as well call yourselves SHITTYtoren! If that's really what your stupid devotion to power means, to bully those who aren't as strong as you all, then we can't be friends." His grip tightening, head tilted, he drawls out, "Friends? When were we ever friends Y/N?"

"Let go of me Jo. I want to get dressed and express my gratitude to Umemiya." Pulling you flush against his chest you squeaked looking up into his emerald eyes, his right hand finding purchase on the roll above your love handle. "Answer my question Y/N," he breaths against your lips. Gulping you quip, "T-the fuck do you mean? We've been friends since we were little."

"Wrong." Tearing your gaze away from the intensity of his stare you retort, "I don't have time for your games Jo." You stiffened when you felt his forehead press against yours, his eyes closed Togame inhaled slowly, taking in your scent, this moment. "I know I've hurt you, you know I'm bad with my words, and I realize that sorry won't fix this but please forgive me. You are so much more to me than a friend." Feeling your lip quiver you look up meeting his soft gaze, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed a bit of saliva. "Don't look at Umemiya-san," his heart pace quickening at the realization that you're still in your towel. "Don't look at Sakura," he whispers against your skin, goosebumps forming in his wake. "Only look at me." he licks at the exposed column of your neck, you bit down on your lip trying to contain the moan wanting to escape. Planting your hands firmly against his chest you pushed against him slightly creating space, you were feeling a small tinge of suffocation. Biting your trembling lips looking away from him you whisper, "You really hurt me Jo. I don't even know-" Taking a cautious step forward he closed the distance between the two of you. You wanted to run, make him suffer for all the negative emotions he put you through the past weeks but your heart kept your feet planted. Keeping your face downward you felt his breath tickling your forehead. Gently tilting your face towards him he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, your eyes closed leading him to peck your eyelids, your cheeks followed, and finally he whispered out, "'m sorry Y/N. Let me show you how sorry I am sweetheart." He gently pecked your lips the tears you were trying to hold finally breaking free from the dam. Swiping your tears with his thumbs Togame murmured, "My poor baby. I know I'm a bad man, such an asshole to my beautiful baby." You gasped, eyes flying open, when you felt the wet swipe of his tongue against your cheeks, licking at your tears peppering kisses. "'m sorry."

Once the tears subsided you reached up cupping his face bringing his forehead against yours. "Y/N?"

"Let's just stay like this for a bit...please?" Noticing the goosebumps now decorating your skin he chides, "You should hurry up and get dressed. Don't want you getting sick." He pressed a kiss on your forehead about to pull away when you stop him. "Y/N?" Looking away with a blush dusting your cheeks you quickly peck his lips, almost laughing at how wide his eyes got. Groaning running a hand down his face you silently gasped when you saw the pure lust in his eyes. "'s not fair. You can't start something and not finish it."

Smirking you quip back, "Looks like you're gonna have to beg for it." He gently walks you backwards until your legs hit your bed frame making you sit. Dropping down on his knees in front of you he sat not moving. "To-Togame?"

"You did want to see me beg."

"Eh?!?" Togame scooted closer to you grabbing your right ankle planting a firm kiss on it. Slowly dragging his tongue against your calf your lips were caught between your teeth, his head turned slightly planting another kiss on the inner corner of your knee. You gasped when he finally looked at you, his pupils blown out, hair tousled when he nips and sucks on your inner thighs, pleading, "Forgive me Y/N." You could feel yourself getting more aroused as he continued his slow sensual ministrations along your left leg. Pushing your towel past your hips he begs, "Please?" With this new switch in power you couldn't help but revel in the fact that you had this aloof 6',1' man on his knees in front of you, worshiping your half naked body in all its glory, rolls, dips, and all. You could feel your wetness seeping through your thighs, squirming at the new position. Tilting his chin up you ask, "What do you want Togame?"

"Want-no need ta show you how sorry I am."

"Show me then." Togame peeled your legs open groaning at your slick folds, watching your pussy clench and unclench around nothing, your clit at attention. Wrapping his arms around your thick thighs he inhaled slowly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Gawd he missed this. You. Licking a long, slow stripe he stopped at your clit, his tongue circling the tiny bud, Togame groaning at your saccharine taste. He sucked and licked his way towards your entrance, his tongue circling and swirling against your folds. "Mmph, Togame, more." Tightening his grasp on your thighs he pulled you more towards the edge of your bed causing you to lay back as he began slurping and eating you out like a man starved. Gathering some of your slick with his middle finger he slid it into your entrance while drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. Adding his ring finger after feeling your walls opening up he glided his fingers in and out of you in a slow pace watching as you buck and rock your hips, some of your sweet juices spilling into the cup of his hand. "Togame please stop teasing me." Sucking on your clit he added a third finger wanting to burst at how your pussy stretched, intoxicated by how long and drawn out your moans were. Moving and scissoring his fingers in rapid succession he bent them forwards and upwards against that spongy spot in your pussy. "O-oh Togame! Right there!" Tangling your fingers in the depths of his black trenches you dragged your pussy up and down his face and fingers. "Fuck sweetheart you're soaked. Listen to her." Falling silent for a brief moment your pussy tightened around his fingers as you listened to the squelching noises coming from below. "Fuuuck Togame."

"Come on sweetheart, cum on my face."

"To-Aaaaaah!" your legs shook as your thighs trapped his face in place, fingers pulling roughly at his black trenches as your orgasm hit you hard. Attempting to catch your breath you slowly unhooked your legs from his grasp. "Sorry." you offer sheepishly.

"Don't be sweetheart." you watched intently as he slowly licked his digits clean, his tongue circling the tips of his fingers. Traveling the length of him you took in his bulge, your mouth already salivating. You missed his taste, his scent. Him. Sitting up reaching for the waist band of his sweats he gently swats your hand away. "Nuh uh sweetheart, today is about you."

"But I want to make you feel good."

"You will don't worry." Slowly stripping himself of his shirt, boxers, and sweats you rubbed your thighs in anticipation, licking your lips when your heard the loud smack of the tip of his cock hitting his stomach. Pushing yourself up towards the headboard he climbed in between your legs prying your legs open. "Damn," he whistled. "You're so fucking beautiful." Grabbing his cock by the base he rubbed it up, down, against your folds tantalizingly slow. "Togameee." you whined. Slapping his tip against your clit you jolted. "Can't believe you thought we were just friends." he spat out. Alternating between slapping and rubbing his tip against your clit he continued to tease you. "Here I was thinking I was yours and you were mine."

"Togameeee-" Without warning he slid into you, his hips flush against yours in one go, your mouth agape, his jaw clenched. His thrusts were slow and languid, each one punctured deep into your gummy walls. "Here I was thinking you were smart because of all those damn books you read but it looks like you couldn't even tell how I felt about you. How I've always felt about you. 's ok, 's probably my fault anyway." Lifting your hips up a little higher, he leaned back against the haunches of his feet pounding into you, the new angle making you gasp at how deep his thick, long cock was reaching, his ever observant gaze watching your breasts bounce and sway. "To-Togame."

"Tell me you're mine Y/N." You couldn't get the words out if you wanted to, his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly made you into a moaning mess. "Y/N," he demanded (pleaded). "Need you to tell me you're mine."

"To-Togame pleeeasse." Smirking he drawls out, "What's wrong sweetheart? Dick so good can't think straight?" Moaning as a response he kept your hips in place as his hips snapped against yours furiously. Through lidded eyes you watched the sweat drip down his forehead, his luscious black locks falling in front of his face, pecs and abs flexing at each powerful thrust he was delivering, veins more prominent. Locking eyes with you his jaw clenched as he felt your gummy wet walls squeezing him oh so good. He wanted, no needed, to hear you say it before he came. Cupping your chin firmly he demands, "Don't make me tell you again Y/N. Tell me you're mine." Feeling the tightness in your belly threatening to snap you yell out, "Yesyesyes Togame. I'm yours, all yours, only you!"

"Good girl." With those two words you screamed as the tightness in your belly snapped, your vision white, ears ringing. Togame's jaw clenched as your pussy squeezed him tighter, he groaned his release into you, hands a bruising grip on your hips, your walls painted white with his hot, thick, cum. Laying there panting trying to catch your breaths you felt wet lips peck and suck at your collarbone. "Togame," you giggled. "Stop that." Pulling out of you slowly he made his way to your bathroom wetting a washcloth wiping you and him down tossing it on your bed stand once he was done.

Pulling you against his chest he chuckles, "Soooo SHITTYtoren huh?" Groaning hiding your face in your hands you beg, "Oh my gawd please don't tell them I said that." He barked out a hearty laugh, your heart warming at the sound. You reached up caressing his cheek, he took that same hand planting a kiss on the inside of your palm. "I love you." Togame affirms.

"I love you too."

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───>>

A/N: Hello! Thank you for showing so much love to the first part of this ^^ to be honest this second part was actually inspired by BTS' Save Me ^^ I wasn't thinking of the first part, I was more focused on the second part lolol Anway make sure to check BTS out! Enjoy~!!

[ellewritesalright]

The Lost Princess - Part 2

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Part 1

Synopsis: The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

A/N: Hi folks!! I hope you've all been good--it's been a busy time for me but I'm so excited to be posting part 2! Just a reminder to everyone that the story is inspired by the movie and musical Anastasia. Once again, I hope it makes sense lmao

Warnings: mentions of sickness, death, drowning, violence, the Kerch indenture system. Me rambling. pls let me know if I've missed anything

Word count: 2901

.........

The dreams were worse tonight.

The once gentle, whispering voices turned to screams. Someone was calling for you, crying into the pitch black night with a painful tremor in their voice. You wanted to call back but couldn't find the strength. Honestly, when have you ever had that kind of strength? You're not brave, not like you should be. There were times at the big house where you would get so angry with the other servants, angry enough that you felt ready enough to cuss them out, yet you never did. You were too afraid of the consequences that stepping out of line would yield.

Your nightly visions only further prove your cowardice. In the dark of your nightmare, there was no hope, and you woke up shaking and nauseated.

The streets below the window of your room were still populated despite the late hours. It was the end of the week, though, and you figured people were using the night to let loose. The lantern beside your bed had long burned out, and you rummaged in your trunk for the pair of shiny candlesticks and matches you had stolen from Devisser's home--the wax had almost all burned out but there were still the holders. The brass would fetch enough money for you to survive maybe two weeks. It was not enough, though. Nothing was ever enough. You could have stolen his wife's entire collection of jewelry and you still wouldn't be able to get a ticket out of Kerch. No amount of money could strike your name from the lost indentures list.

There was always that Brekker that the shopkeeper had steered you towards. If he could do what she said and help you get to Ravka then you should find him as soon as possible. You had nearly gone to see him several times in the last few days, but you always chickened out. You would head over to the Crow Club with every intention of meeting Brekker, and yet, you could never bring yourself to go inside.

You were about to light one of the candles but instead you packed them away and pulled your day clothes from your trunk. You probably looked disheveled as you hit the streets, but not less composed than most of the people around you. A man stumbled past you, drunk, before he leaned into a post and emptied his guts into the street. The barrel really was a lovely place. You should have come sooner.

You pulled up the collar of your jacket to protect yourself from the wind that seemed to pick up the closer you got to the Crow Club. People were milling about the streets, their chatter and whispers carrying through the crisp air. What kind of secrets did they share? And how long would it take before their secrets infected the entirety of the barrel? In the short time you had been here it seemed you had heard the phrases "I heard it from" and "I assure you it is true" a thousand times. Everyone was a gossip, which made everyone dangerous. All it would take for you to be found by Devisser or the stadwatch was a rumour about your origins. Speculation about you might lead to the uncovering of your deserted indenture or people might think you were a runaway Grisha. The last thing you needed was for people to think you were valuable or worth notice. You were just another face in the crowd; your only goal was to go to Os Kervo.

The club was bustling with people as you arrived. You stood back a bit, biting at the inside of your cheek. For a moment you debated whether you should just go home, but you couldn't seem to make up your mind. You could only wait. As for what you were waiting for, you had no idea. A sign from the saints, maybe? Anything at all that would tell you to trust the club and the Brekker inside of it.

A young man stood against the building, staring directly at you as you eyed the crow sign above the door; it swung in the breeze, as though it was about to take flight. The man had been outside before when you passed by, watching you closely then as he was now. He called out to you.

"Have you finally plucked up the courage to come inside this evening?"

Your stare snapped down to him. He palmed a pair of pistols at his waist, but there was no threat in the action. It looked like more of a comfort or a habit that he had. He had never interacted with you before, just stood watch.

"I don't know," you answered, truth in your words. You stepped closer to the building, closer to the man. "I was thinking about it."

"Well, you look cold, perhaps you should think about it inside," he smiled.

A short scoff escaped you and you moved to stand before him. "If I entered the club I wouldn't need to think about entering the club."

"Sounds logical to me." He tilted his head at you. "What are you afraid of?"

You paused. There was nothing innately scary about the club. You weren't a gambler nor were you a drinker, so you wouldn't be trapped in a cycle of either if you decided to go inside. What you were doubting was the person you were supposed to see. If you were to believe the shopkeeper, this Brekker could be the key to your future. He could help you attain your lifelong dream of finding your family in Os Kervo. It was the idea that you might finally be getting what you wanted that made your stomach turn to lead.

"I just… I have to ask a big favour of someone I've never even met and I don't know how they'll react," you decided to tell him. It was close enough to the truth, and he considered what you said.

"There's no use in worrying over it, then," he said. "It sounds like something you just have to do."

His words were encouraging, and you smiled at him.

"If I may, who are you asking a favour of?"

"Someone called Brekker."

His mouth desperately wanted to curve into a smirk and you could tell that he was doing all he could to stifle a laugh. This reaction made your fear return, and you frowned up at him. He noticed your pointed look and managed to clear his throat.

"What's wrong with Brekker?" You questioned.

"Nothing at all. It's just funny to me that you're so afraid of seeing Kaz."

"You know him?"

"Know him? We're great friends. You're gonna love the man." He leaned towards you, raising a brow. "In fact, why don't you and I go inside and meet him right now."

His tone was playful with a hint of deceit, but you could tell he was not entirely dishonest. If you had to go out on a limb you would say that he was not trying to lead you astray.

You nodded, and he grinned, leading you inside.

……….

The breeze caught the curtains in Kaz's office. He had been doing the books when Inej came in, giving him a report of the whispers on the street. She was still there, explaining to him about an actor that Pekka Rollins was training to be the missing princess. Apparently the actor was very convincing, and--to add insult to injury--she had been one of the ones Kaz auditioned and ultimately turned away. But if he rejected her it must have been for a good reason. Still, the thought of Pekka fooling the old lady and getting the reward put a sour taste in Kaz's mouth. That reward was his. She was his pigeon.

Inej was interrupted by the door squeaking open, making a wedge of space just big enough that Jesper poked his head in.

Kaz spat his name, glaring daggers into his friend's face. "What could possibly be important enough for you to be here? I told you to watch the door."

"I was watching the door," Jesper replied, "when I came across someone who wanted to meet with you."

"Tell them I'm not seeing anyone right now," he dismissed, turning back to Inej. He knew he was being harsh, but the information he had just been given put him in a foul mood. He would likely seethe for the rest of the night, snapping at anyone who bothered him.

"Oh, you'll want to see them, I can promise you that." Jesper opened the door, gesturing for someone to come in with a "here we are, my dear."

You stepped past the threshold and immediately Kaz felt his anger diminish. After waiting for nearly a week since that day in the shop, you had made your way to him. There was apprehension in the muscles of your shoulders as you took in the room. Your eyes fell on him and he stared back, studying your features properly for the first time. There was something uncanny about your face, and you certainly looked more like the missing princess than everyone else he had seen for the job. You murmured a quick introduction, eyes darting to Inej but quickly falling back to him as you told them your name and began to explain why you were here.

"I have an issue I was told could be solved by a man named Brekker. I assume that's you." You tilted your chin at him, uneasiness in your stance. It didn’t take a genius to tell that you were nervous.

"You assume correctly, Miss Vos." He motioned for you to sit in the armchair before his desk, and he stepped behind the surface. Jesper and Inej stood by the wall, and you glanced over your shoulder at them before meeting Kaz's waiting stare. "Your issue?"

"I need to go to Ravka, but I don't have the money for travel papers. Also… it's not exactly legal for me to leave the country."

He half expected you to lie, to say something other than what he had overheard in Eugenia's shop, but you didn't. You either trusted him enough to be honest--which didn't seem likely judging from the way you sat with your spine as rigid as a marble post--or you had no other choice but to be frank with him. It was probably the latter.

He looked down at you, responding smoothly, "Normally I wouldn't be able to help you with something like that, but as luck would have it, I can obtain the proper documentation."

Your shoulders relaxed a bit, your face softening. But you had barely any time for ease as he spoke again.

"However, my offer is conditional," he said, leaning into the desk. You swallowed, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. "Have you heard the rumours of a missing princess?"

You gave a quick nod.

"And have you heard of the Grand Duchess Marien?"

"I know the name."

"Good. Then perhaps you'll know that the Duchess is the mother of the late king," he explained. "She's been searching for any leads on the missing princess."

"I don't see the relevance of this."

"I can help you get to Ravka, but only if you help me by posing as the princess."

You scoffed. "That would never work."

"Why not?"

"I-I was brought up in servants’ quarters, not a palace--I wouldn't even know where to start if I were to pretend to be a princess."

"That's where we come in," he said, nodding to Jesper and Inej. You looked at them, and he kept on, saying, "We can teach you everything you'll need to know."

"This is ridiculous. I'll find my own way," you huffed, moving to stand. Kaz was quick to react, his cane blocking your path to the door.

"Sit down," he ordered. Your glare, piercing as it was, could not rival his. The sight of yours did nothing to intimidate him, whereas--after a long, unblinking moment--his had the required effect. You took a seat.

Kaz pulled a book out of his desk drawer, flipping to a dog-eared page. He turned it around, motioning for you to look. A portrait of the royal family peered up at you, and you stared at it with pursed lips.

"The princess was six years old here, and though the resemblance is not exact, it is there," he explained, pointing at the youngest girl in the image. She stood beside a little boy, hands folded atop his shoulder. You stared between them for a moment. When you looked up at Kaz he swore he saw a glint of sorrow in your eyes. You recovered in a split second, shaking your head.

"No way." You crossed your arms, casting an irate stare at Kaz. "I'm an orphan. I don't have a family. I know for certain that I don't because if I did I would remember them--especially if they were a royal family."

There was a bite to your voice, a bitter sting of something which seemed to pain you. It was hopelessness that marred your words, and yet a lack of hope should have led to despair or exhaustion, not bitterness. Perhaps you hadn't lost hope. Perhaps it was the slim possibility of hope he presented that made you recoil. He could work with that.

Kaz sat down in his chair, levelling with you in the aim of coaxing information out of you. He wasn't trustworthy enough when he stood over his desk. If he wanted you to be vulnerable, he had to show vulnerability, and sitting would do that. He even briefly considered sending Jesper and Inej away but figured you seemed comfortable enough already with them in the room. They weren't as imposing as him, he supposed.

"What do you remember?" He asked, trying to be gentle with his words. You stared at the wall over Kaz's shoulder at a painting of the harbour. He saw Jesper start to fidget where he stood and even Inej looked slightly disinterested, but once you started to speak they listened carefully.

"I was ten or so when I was pulled from the True Sea. A group of fishermen found me floating on a barrel, said I probably jumped from a slaver ship. I was barely breathing, at least that's what they told me. They wrapped me in blankets, gave me food and a name; I still can't remember what my old one was."

You picked a bit of fluff on your pant leg, averting your stare even further. Your words were ghostly, devoid of all feeling like you had rehearsed them your entire life, and yet there was a faint tremor to your voice. How curious.

"When we got to shore they handed me over to their boss, a mercher named Devisser. I worked in his second home on the southern shore until a few weeks ago. Almost all of my memories were made in the kitchens of that place; I don't remember anything before the fishing boat." You met his eyes again, folding your hands in your lap, a neat little pile of rough knuckles and calluses, nothing fit for a princess. "Look, all I want is passage to Os Kervo. I don't even need to be taken all the way there, just as long as you get me to Ravka."

"And we can help you," Kaz insisted. "If you pretend to be the princess, learn the etiquette, the history, you can get to Ravka in mere months."

"I don't want to lie to make my way in the world."

"But if you think about it, It's not really lying," Jesper jumped in then, and Kaz held his breath. If he ruined this for them… "For all any of us know, you could really be the princess. I mean, you look like her, right? Plus, you've got family in Os Kervo, she's got family in Os Kervo."

If it weren't for the softening in your brow–your thoughts rolling through your mind with Jesper's words–Kaz would have put a stop to his friend. But, as it was, you seemed to be coming around to the idea. Jesper was playing on your lack of childhood memory in order to alleviate your guilt about tricking an old woman, and Kaz might have commended him for it if he really wanted to.

"We can show you to the old bat; if she says you aren't her granddaughter then there's no harm, no foul." Jesper smirked at you, "Plus, you'll have made it to Os Kervo where you can look for your real family."

You stared between the three of them, perhaps measuring the degree of sincerity in each of their eyes. In a rare attempt to be like Jesper, Kaz let his expression fall, making his face friendlier–or, at the very least, neutral. When you looked at him he looked back with eager eyes. They ought to do the trick.

"Are you in?" He asked.

"Why not?" You sighed, folding your arms. "If it gets me to Os Kervo…"

Jesper was grinning behind you, Inej had a small smile, and Kaz felt his mouth nearly imitate them. All the anger he had ten minutes ago had melted away. Pekka Rollins was far from his mind. The only thing that mattered now was making this amnesiac orphan into a princess.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts of this series please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

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Taglist: @clockworkballerina @happyhauntt @mysticalfuncollectorus @aislinrayne @littleshadow17 @tooru-bread @katrina0-0

[ficnation]

Chapter 3: Splattered Brains

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: Plot twist—I couldn't wait. Enjoy it, my darlings. (unedited)

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Will looks through the peephole before opening the door, his entire body tense. He glances back at you apologetically, and you know he wants to continue where you left off. You want more too, but you understand—there’s the world outside, with its mysteries and its demands, and you both have to confront it.

The woman on the other side of the door is someone you don’t really recognize. Her face rings a bell somewhere in the back of your head, but you can’t say for sure you’ve met her before. She doesn’t seem like a person that would linger in your memory for long.

“Will,” the woman acknowledges him, red lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alana,” he responds, his tone flat and devoid of any sympathy. “What brings you here?” 

Will’s face is frozen in a state of neutrality, neither annoyed nor pleased by the woman’s presence—it’s impassive. A tiny part of you wonders if he’s ever looked at you with this much disinterest.  You know he doesn’t have it in him, he loves you with his entire being, but the idea makes a sour grimace crawl onto your face.

There’s no happy greeting between them, and it’s selfishly comforting even though it shouldn’t be. You don’t know her at all, yet she seems to be the polar opposite of what you stand for. 

Alana’s eyes flit across the room, landing on you for the first time, and as her gaze lingers, she raises her eyebrow. Her face has a timeless quality, sharp angles, and beautiful, expressive eyes. But something about her doesn’t sit right with you. That look she sends you as if she’s inspecting you, trying to analyze you—you hate it.

“Don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer to it,” she says, her tone just as cold and detached as Will’s. “I’m here for a reason, Will. And the less you drag this out, the better.”

You notice Will’s fists clench at her words, you take his hand in yours, dragging the pads of your fingers across his white knuckles. He relaxes under your soothing touch. You take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against his shoulder.

“Just get to your point,” Will says, his coldness making the situation all the more tense. “What do you want from me?”

Alana stares at your entwined hands then her eyes meet yours again, and Will notices how her attention is immediately pulled solely to you—as if everything else is bathed in a thick fog. You notice how her lips slowly curve downward, just a bit. You think she might be envious.

She bites the inside of her cheek, proving you right. She’s jealous. You can’t help but smirk at this realization. Will glances at you, asking wordlessly for an explanation, because whatever game this is, he’s clearly not in the loop. You don’t give him what he wants this time.

“I will give you some privacy then,” you suggest, whistling at the dogs to follow you outside. You don’t have to call for them twice, as they run toward the door, waggling their tails. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Crawford waiting.”

Before Will can object, the dogs dash out the door, and you follow in their steps, shutting it behind you. You know you did the right thing by giving them some space. How she treated Will was unforgivable, but he has to fight this one battle by himself—if you stayed there by his side, you’d probably bash her head against the wall. Not today. This fight has to be his.

You look over at the door, and you think you can hear their voices through the walls, but you’re not entirely sure. After a few moments, the door opens and Alana storms out. She doesn’t even look at you, she just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Will behind.

You lean against the railing of the porch, the dogs snuggling up against your calves for pets and scratches—something you never deny them. It’s a moment of peace in a world full of chaos, and you can’t help but enjoy it all—even the chill bite of the winter air. It’s refreshing after spending all night and morning with Will, whose body radiated so much heat, and who left you breathless every time he was close.

He steps out on the porch, and you turn to face him, confusion written across your features. The man only shakes his head, staring at her retreating back. You don’t pry, and he doesn’t tell. There’s a wordless understanding between the two of you already—he’ll tell you when he’s ready, and his emotions are no longer an overwhelming susurration.

Will takes his place at your side, elbows leaning on the wooden balustrade. Both of you watch in silence as Alana Bloom walks down the driveway, soon disappearing from your view. 

“You don’t like her much, huh?” you ask, voice laced with irony.

You don’t really expect an answer, so he only rolls his eyes. But there is a hint of sadness in them, a tiny sign of his own disappointment, at himself, her—all of it. He takes your hand in his and leans forward to kiss your icy-cold cheek.

He pulls away then, his gaze fixed on you. “We should get going,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to keep Jack waiting.”

And he’s right. You’ve been out here a little too long, and Jack is bound to be impatient by now. You’re sure he’s already called twice to ask you where you are.

Your cheek still tingles from the kiss, but you remain focused on the way Will’s expression shifts slightly. He’s crestfallen, there’s no denying it, and you know this conversation took a toll on him—even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He calls the dogs inside, then locks the door. You squeeze his hand, and with a sigh of resignation, the two of you head to the car.

The cold has gotten to your skin, and you can feel every pore of your body aching for warmth. The windshield is covered in a thin layer of snow, and your body shivers as you wait for Will to swipe it off with his glove-covered hand. Even though he already unlocked the car, you refuse to let him suffer in the unforgiving winter alone.

Once he’s done, he joins your side and opens the passenger door for you. The protest on the tip of your tongue dies off when he guides you inside with a steady hand on the small of your back—you comply. He closes it behind your back with a satisfied grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, warming it from within.

You put on the seatbelt, and relax your muscles, letting your fingers trail along the armrest and the door, enjoying the warmth against your skin. Your mind is wandering, lost in memories of the morning and the little moments you shared with Will. 

“You know…” Will starts from behind the wheel, his eyes don’t stray from the road ahead. There’s a quiet moment between you two while he considers what he has to say, and when he finally talks, he barely mumbles the words under his breath, “I was thinking…”

“About what?” You raise your eyebrow in curiosity, giving him all your attention and more.

“Well, I was thinking…” he pauses for a moment, the words struggling to leave his lips, he’s visibly tense.

You want to say something, help him find the words. It’s clear he needs a little push. So you reach up and caress his stubbled jaw—the lightest of touches—hoping the gesture can help ease him out of this nervous state.

It works. Will sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, still facing forward, but at least his face is calm now. “I’ve always been in love with you.” Even though it’s only a whisper, the confession sounds like thunder in your ears—its rumble shaking every tiny cell in your brain. “I never said it out loud until you disappeared. I regret it to this day.”

That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten and your heart to start hammering wildly. It makes you wonder if you’re on the verge of having a heart attack. You know you love this man—you know more than anyone else on this earth just how strong your feelings are for him. You were always aware that he reciprocated it—in his own intricate way, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. Hearing him say it now—gifted your mind with a blissful sense of peace.

You look at him, and you can’t find the words to respond. Nothing that comes to mind is even faintly close to what you feel for him, so you settle for a gentle squeeze of his thigh.

Will glances at you, his eyes roaming over the curve of your cheekbones, the shape of your lips, the long lashes fluttering over your eyes—you’re breathtaking. You don’t even need to respond—he knows how you feel already, and he’s just happy to have you by his side again. He’s head over heels, hopelessly and utterly—in love.

“I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you do,” Will continues, and the words ring out in the cramped space of the car. “Nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Nobody has ever loved me the way you do. You’ve been the only light in my darkness, the only source of hope in my life.” His voice softens with every word, and he doesn’t look at you as he talks, afraid he’ll get distracted if he does. He just needs to get it all out.

Your smile is so bright when he catches it in his peripheral vision—it could probably replace the stars at night. He takes a pause, and you wonder if all those words have made him feel better. It seems like that’s the case—he looks so much more peaceful next to you, no longer tense from holding in everything he felt.

Will chuckles, and it fills the air with a different kind of light that washes over you and makes you feel just a bit warmer. Just as you retract your hand from his thigh, his own reaches past the center console, his palm grazing your knee to find it again. He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you think you’ll die of joy, and you wish the drive in the car never had to end—you could stay like this, his hand clasped tightly to yours, forever.

Silence falls between the two of you, but you’re so close to each other that it feels like there’s no need to speak. The tension in the car is gone, and Will’s words still linger in your mind. I’ve always been in love with you…

You’re so caught up in this elation, you don’t even notice when you reach your destination. The brutalist architecture of BAU’s building makes you feel intimidated—more than you anticipated. It’s cold, uninviting. There’s also another feeling that crawls over your skin, a sense of dread, but you shake it off before it can completely take over.

Will pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine, and faces you. “We’re here,” he says, a grim expression on his face. It’s so different from how you just saw him a mere moment ago.

You share that expression. You feel it on your face, the weight of it pressing down on your soul as you slowly realize that you’ll need to step away from the bubble of happiness you’ve been in. It’s not a bubble you would ever want to pop—so you have to leave it behind. Shut it off.

You take in the headquarters’ exterior, its harsh outlines, and the shadows it casts on the already grim streets of Quantico. Your stomach sinks. There’s a part of you that missed this place, being in the field and helping people—it used to be your dream—but now you despise it. You don’t want to go back to seeing dead bodies over and over again, hearing the murmur of their whispers that never disturb the air and never leave you in silence for too long.

“I’ll take you inside,” Will offers, but you don’t really have a say in it either way. Of course, he notices the solemnity on your face. He puts his hand on your cheek, the skin of your cold face against his warm palm warming you for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you answer simply. You don’t have to say anything more.

Will gently caresses your jaw, thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. His eyes are filled with concern for you. He nods slowly, his hand still on your cheek. You can’t even explain what you’re feeling right now, but he understands as much—he’s been there too.

“I know it’s not easy,” Will says softly. “But I’m sure Crawford won’t keep you there long.”

You’re about to voice your doubts, the million reasons as to why this is a terrible idea, but then you pause. You can’t seem to find them—there is no single coherent thought in your head, the stress of the day finally taking its toll on you.

Will sighs and pulls away, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a while before he finally rests it on his own thigh. He climbs out of the car, and you take a few deep breaths to try to quiet the voices inside your head. You don’t know what you need, you just know that you don’t want this.

You step out, and the silence between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. Will reaches out to you once again and puts a hand on your shoulder, as if he can’t decide what to do, either. He looks over your shoulder—at the towering building in the distance.

The man sighs and steps closer to you. He looks at you, eyes roaming over your face, scanning every single detail of your expression. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. “I know it doesn’t feel right being back here,” he says, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “But I need you to be strong, for just a few minutes. Okay? This might be important.”

You nod, willing to do anything for him—anything at all. The deep breath you take in almost makes your lungs flutter in outrage.

“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

He pulls away finally but doesn’t let go of you entirely. His hand holds tight to your fingers, and Will starts to walk you toward the building. It’s cold, windy, and you’re not looking forward to a single second of being inside that building. You’d much better prefer to freeze here outside—maybe turn into an ice sculpture if you’re lucky.

There is an undeniable uneasiness in Will’s expression as he opens the big doors and ushers you inside. It’s a big lobby, and every person there is busy with tasks, on the phone, typing something or other away on their computers.

You see Crawford sitting on one of the couches in a corner that almost resembles a waiting room. He glances at Will, and his expression only hardens upon seeing you two together. You want to run away, but Will has a grip on your arm and doesn’t let go.

“Come with me,” Crawford says to you, his tone stern and a little annoyed, probably by the fact you’re twenty minutes late. “We need to have a long conversation.”

You share an unsure look with Will, he nods encouragingly.  You feel his hand gripping yours, and you notice how shaky you are. For a moment, you wonder what the hell you’ve signed yourself up for by coming here.

Crawford heads for the nearest elevator, not waiting for you to catch up with him. His attitude is clear—he’s annoyed, and he wants results. That’s how it’s always been, but you never got the chance to get used to it.

“I will be here when you come back,” Will promises, tentatively releasing you from his hold.

You nod in acknowledgment before following after your former boss with hurried footsteps.

It’s a tense, uncomfortable, and entirely too silent ride up to the top floor. The lights are bright, almost blinding, as the elevator rises. Crawford stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless. You wonder what he even needed you here for.

He walks ahead of you and takes out a keycard from one of his pockets. A moment later, he uses it to open a door in the hallway, revealing a large office. The lights inside are dim, almost cozy, and the view from the large windows is one you recognize. Crawford heads inside, telling you to follow with an exasperated sigh.

“They moved your office two more doors down the hallway,” you notice, looking around in curiosity. You hope your poor attempt at loosening the atmosphere works, even just a bit.

Once Crawford chuckles at your words, you know you succeeded. “You’ve always looked for distraction, haven’t you?”

He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for you to do the same. He spends a few moments looking you up and down with a blank expression, the kind he usually reserved for suspects at interrogation.

“Have I changed that much?”

Crawford shakes his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Not really.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, taking in the view from the nearby window. “Though you look older than I remember.”

“It’s been long eight years,” you admit with a nod. You don’t even want to think about all the new wrinkles that materialized on your face through those years.

His eyes travel over the length of your arms, and then over your face again. “I can see time’s been hard on you,” he says. You know he’s not referring to your physical appearance, and that’s what stings the most. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”

“I managed.” You don’t give him more than that. The stories of your suffering are yours to tell when you feel ready—and you don’t.

Crawford’s lips narrow as he considers your response. He doesn’t seem to be one who accepts “I managed” as an answer. Then again, he’s never been the patient type. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you further on the matter.

He leans forward to grab a folder from inside his drawer. “I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Hannibal Lecter.”

You sit up straight and lean forward in your chair. Your eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on Crawford, who seems to notice it.

“You seem interested,” he says in the same neutral tone as always. He opens the folder and starts flipping through the pages. Then, he sets the folder down and looks straight at you. “I’m here to ask you a question,” Crawford says, “and I want you to think very hard about your answer before you say it.”

The room is quiet, still, and your heart is beating frantically in your chest. The silence stretches on, and it’s so loud you can practically hear it. 

“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper murdered your father’s killer?”

You study Jack for a moment, noticing the gleam in his dark eyes, and the way he focuses entirely on your response. You weigh your options—you can deny it and trust that Will already has a plan to catch Hannibal, or you can tell the truth and hope your former boss doesn’t consider you delusional.

“Yes, or no?” Crawford urges you, his tone sharp. It takes all your willpower not to answer right away.

“I do,” you blurt out finally with a resigned sigh. “I think he did it.”

The man nods slowly, his lips pressed together in thought. He doesn’t seem surprised by what you told him—it almost makes you wonder how much he already knows.

“Do you have any proof?” he asks. That’s the million-dollar question, and you know your former boss isn’t asking it just to make conversation. “Do you have anything to support your claim?”

“I wasn’t allowed near the evidence.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

You feel your stomach twisting into knots for a second, but you remain calm. Crawford is not the kind of man you can lie to, so you take a breath and say what you have to say, the words spilling out of your mouth on their own.

“I know it sounds crazy,” you admit, “and I can’t say that I expected you to believe me. But I know I’m right about this.” You can feel Crawford judging you with his relentless gaze, so you continue, “He lost far too much blood, yet there was no sign of it pooled around him. Not the amount he’s lost. It’s almost as if it was drained out of him.”

Crawford only nods. He doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy—he looks at you like he’s studying a puzzle. He considers your words, staring at your face, his expression still and unchanging. Your words feel like they’re bouncing in the air, waiting for a response, for something that isn’t silence.

“And you’re sure there’s no other plausible explanation for it?” his tone is curious, interested.

Your heartbeat quickens as you shake your head back and forth. “No, that’s impossible.”

He’s intrigued now. The man doesn’t say a word, but you can tell from the way he looks at you. Crawford looks like he almost believes you. He’s interested, alright—very interested.

“Do you think it was Hannibal?” he asks. You notice the change in his tone, and you know a yes or no response will not be enough for Crawford this time. He needs the answer to satisfy his curiosity.

He has an aloof expression on his face, the kind that never truly gives away his thoughts. It keeps you hanging in uncertainty, because you have no idea what you should tell him that could possibly sate that curiosity.

“I believe Will.” Your answer is short, devoid of anything he was hoping for.

Crawford doesn’t seem to like that answer, at least by the way his eyes narrow and the way his lips tighten into a thin line. Then, after a momentary pause, he leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk.

“And what’s this belief based on?” he asks, his tone demanding, almost a challenge. He’s expecting you to tell him, to give him a reason to believe you.

“He’s not insane, Jack.”

“What makes you think he’s sane?”

You don’t hesitate when you give your answer this time. “Because I know him.”

You notice his eyes studying you once again, his gaze not stopping on any detail of your face. He doesn’t comment on what you just told him, and doesn’t tell you whether he believes you or not. Instead, he leans back in his chair once again and sighs. He lets his fingers tap against the wood of the table for a moment, a small sound in the quiet office.

“Your father’s case will be reopened. Be prepared to be questioned again,” he says, his voice very much like the Crawford you know. “Now I need you to answer me one last question.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head, you almost look curious, as if whatever he wants to ask isn’t something that worries you. It’s a carefully built facade, and you hope he doesn’t see straight through it.

It’s an uncomfortable few moments, as Crawford takes a break from his tapping to look straight at you with those intense eyes. The wait is almost killing you—but the tension in his expression might be even more deadly. He’s thinking deeply, and whatever he’s just figured out isn’t anything that you would like to be privy to.

“I want to offer you a deal,” is all he says. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What deal?”

Crawford takes a deep breath as if he’s been holding it in for the better part of his life.

“I want you to go back to BAU.”

“No.”

He blinks, completely caught off guard by your response. You didn’t think saying no would be that easy. He pauses before his lips form a firm line. 

“That wasn’t a request,” he says.

“Well, you can’t really force me.” You shrug your arms—not even slightly moved by the intimidating raise of his eyebrow.

“Actually, I can.”

The air around you changes. You can feel the meaning behind his threat like a heavy weight, pressing down on your skin, suffocating you. You go to breathe, but find that the air is suddenly too thin, that it’s like breathing underwater. The world around you buzzes like a lightbulb before it explodes.

You can hear the screams of your sister, her wretched sobs, her desperate begging for you to stop. The buzzing gets louder—the image of your father’s body sliding down the wall as his brains splattered over the flowery wallpaper burns alive in your mind. 

You blink once, then twice, making sure there’s no suspicion nor satisfaction on Crawford’s face. There isn’t and relief washes over you like a wave—one that’s perfect for surfing.

“You can’t.”

Crawford’s face contorts, his lips twisting into a frown. He eyes you carefully. You can tell his mind is racing, trying to come up with something to make you join his team. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you as if you could hear a pin drop. You wait carefully with your breath bated and watch your former boss, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Do you want your sister’s case solved or not?” he taunts. So that was his leverage over you. 

It’s almost jarring to hear him mention her, to see him play this card. You take a deep breath and keep yourself calm. His thought process was on point—you had to give him that. You’d do anything for your sister and to get rid of that stormy cloud hanging over your head anytime the room was too quiet or someone dared to mention her person.

“Yes,” you agree finally, “I want her case solved.”

“Then go back to BAU. It’s your answer.”

That tone of his makes it hard not to laugh out loud. You thought it might be that simple—a yes or no, two letters of the alphabet. That didn’t apply to Jack Crawford, it seems. He wants an answer, and he will get one. A smile curls on your lips as you consider how to proceed. You’d have liked to have more leverage in terms of negotiation, but unfortunately, you have none.

“Then make me an offer worth my while.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait with a raised eyebrow.

Crawford is still the boss you know and love, albeit slightly confused by your attitude. It’s clear that this isn’t how he expected you to respond. His lips curl into a frown again, but he seems to think of something suddenly.

“I want you to join BAU as Will Graham’s partner. You’ve worked with him before, and I need you on the team,” he asserts. “I need you to look at his cases from your perspective. You will have access to all resources we have available at the bureau. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

You can’t help the surprise that colors your expression now. Working with Will again, and having access to the FBI’s resources, it’s impossible to say no. Now you might have a chance against the cunning mind of Hannibal Lecter.

You don’t even hesitate as you say, “Deal.” 

Crawford’s eyes soften as he hears your answer, and you can tell he’s glad you’re not going to give him a difficult time.

“The decision is yours, then,” he says finally. Your eyes meet his. “Will you go back to BAU?” 

You nod in response, showing him the brightest of your smiles. “Absolutely.”

[k4marina]

this was supposed to be a drabble, but fuck it, we ball.

bassed off of this.

warnings: gotham. moral of the story is don’t walk the streets of gotham alone at night

——

"i don't get it," you say into the phone that's pressed in between your ear and shoulder. your best friend on the other line hums in agreement. "it's like he's living like a double life y'know? rich corporate dude by day, and then some sort of street thug by night."

she laughs on the other end. "that would be an interesting movie plot. but for real, i'm glad that i'm not in your shoes, no offense-"

"none taken,"

"-i'd drive myself insane trying to figure out who my soulmate was."

you shake your head, smiling, "careful, keep talking like that and you'll end up in arkham."

her laugh fades for a second before coming back to the phone. "speaking of which, has your little thug boyfriend run across the batman yet?"

you shake your head, not that she can see anyways, "no, not yet. i wonder what that would be like though. maybe then he'd stop running around in the streets like an idiot."

"a little intervention by the bats?"

"totally," you laugh. you glance back at the little wall clock you had, groaning. "i'm gonna have to go, gotta head to work. talk to you tomorrow?"

"okay, stay safe, byeee," you could hear the sound of her kissing on the other end, you doing the same before ending the call and getting ready for work.

—

by the time 4 am had rolled around you had finished your shift and were steadily making your way back home. was it risky to walk alone in the dead of night in gotham? yes. but at least you have your pepper spray.

the streets are dimly lit, casting an orange hue onto the pavement. the second you turn the corner you could already tell something was off. your hand reaches into the bag, pulling out your pepper spray, uncapping it.

your eyes shift around, scanning the area in front of you when a hand reaches out, pulling you back by your shoulder. you hit the persons chest, instinctively pulling back to see who it was.

some street thug who looked like he hasn't taken a shower in days gives you an eerie smile, sending shivers down your body and paralyzes you.

"don't cha' know betta then to walk around at night?" his nasally voice makes you want to recoil into yourself. his rancid cigarette breath doesn't help when he speaks up again.

"hey, i'm talkin' ta yah. you not gon' answer me." he steps forward and you step back in fear. "what? you think you too fuckin' good?"

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. "no like's a fuckin' bitch, yeah?"

before he could do anything, he stops, looking past you. you find the courage to turn, craning your head at the shadowy figure, spotting the symbol on his chest.

batman.

his eyes lock onto yours and you take a sigh of relief. he grunts, softly grasping your shoulder and pushes you behind him. only, when his hand makes contact with you, a white flash comes over your eyes and when it all fades away your met with the thugs face.

except, it's like you're in another persons body.. sort of how when you and your soulmate see out of the others eyes...

you watch as the thug gets beaten into a pulp in an all familiar way, now finally taking notice of the gloves he always wore and how thee thug rasps his name.

by the time the beating is finished your sight has returned to you and you stare into batman's back, your heart racing. he turns, and by the look in his eyes he knows too. he steps back to leave, but you're quicker.

"wait," you reach out, your hand just briefly making contact with his gloved hand. but it's enough for your sight to switch, momentarily seeing your own shocked face from a higher angle.

it was the batman.

"no fucking way," is all you're able to say. your soulmate wasn't a rich street thug.

i tired to make the creepy dude have a new york /jersey accent, but i've never written one before so it's probably shit lol.

[zahri-melitor]

Ric Grayson, or Tim 'Nightwing' Drake: a story of how Tom King's Nightwing pitch would have functioned.

You can often see the remains of discarded or overruled pitches in comics, if you look at structural decisions and compare them to pitches that you know were made.

One obvious one people might be familiar with is that Helena Bertinelli, back in 2003, was being set up to be removed from the Bat books and transferred over to what eventually became Greg Rucka's Checkmate 2006. There's a whole establishing storyline done in Gotham Knights by Scott Beatty. However, Gail Simone's pitch for Birds of Prey, which was published a mere two months after the Beatty story wrapped up, took Helena and used her to expand the Birds of Prey roster. It's a move that likely redirected Helena's character arc permanently (though the ghosts can still be seen in the choice to use Helena B as Matron in Grayson).

Equally: I hypothesise the reason we got Ric Grayson is because we got Young Justice 2019.

If you look at the storytelling, in terms of cover dates:

Dick was shot in Batman #55, in November 2018

Tynion's 'Tec run finished July 2018

Young Justice 2019 started March 2019

City of Bane started September 2019

King's pitch for Tim to take over the Nightwing mantle would probably have been a 12 issue run, to my eye; with the schedule that Nightwing had at the time, it would have been 6 issues (twice monthly) and then 6 issues (once monthly), ending the run and placing Dick back as a restored Nightwing...in issue #61, August 2019.

City of Bane kicked off the next month, being King's big 'all family-in' storytelling climax arc. It would have been the perfect place to put Nightwing, once again himself, reuniting with people. (I cannot tell how this placement would have gone should King have got his full 100 issue run; but I don't think City of Bane was significantly shifted forwards?)

Now I can't tell if the twice monthly issues dropped to monthly because Ric Grayson went down like a lead balloon with the fandom, but that would have been a very fast turn around in solicits for DC to withdraw support on a new direction (about a month). If it was expected to remain twice monthly, then I still think it would have been a 12 issue story, but might have stretched to 18 to meet plot needs over in Batman (King doesn't seem to have an issue about padding stories to get timing to line up in ways he wants them to)

King's pitch was also made at the time when Tim was still Red Robin, but clearly there was internal interest in transitioning him away from the name and into some other identity as part of the shift away from n52. Putting Tim into the Nightwing suit for 6 months to a year would have been a nice intervening step to use as the prompt to give Tim a new identity.

It's a pitch from King that just...fits in really really well. I can see how he'd have had it interact with things. Especially as King really hadn't had an opportunity to use Tim in his run yet due to the Mr Oz storyline, and he'd been pulling so many other faces through his story.

(I will also note that the 'Drake' identity and costume for Tim appears in January 2010 in Young Justice; Bendis' initial concept was clearly taking Tim back to Robin before he also tried a 'new costume' growth arc).

But instead Bendis wanted to use Young Justice to anchor the whole Wonder Comics initiative, and he wanted Tim as Robin for it because the concept was to pull in all the nostalgia for everyone for Young Justice 1998, thus having everyone in their original identities. And that whole decision probably had more lead time than your average comic, so it took priority over suggestions of moving Tim to Nightwing (because they already had plans brewing).

(And then Young Justice got fucked over with SO MUCH editorial meddling, to the point that I cannot wait until enough people have left DC that we actually get stories about exactly how bad it was, rather than just inferring it from what can be seen in the text itself)

Come back next time for when I instead explain what I think happened with the accepted pitch for Ric Grayson (and how I cannot BELIEVE this was actually an accepted pitch, given the way it was treated as a hot potato; it feels more like an editorial dictate of a concept that was passed off until Dan Jurgens came up with an idea of how to make it into an actual plot)

[crystalandparrot]

RC9GN x Reader

New Season

Not my art!!

NEW SEASON OF RC9GN!!! This takes place AFTER the Sorcerer's defeat

If you would like to know what voice actors I had in mind for the new characters, I'll make a skippable chapter about it.

This is very different from my other stories! This (Y/n) is MAINLY based on Donnie from ROTTMNT. She can be seen as autistic, but for the sake of not writing too many details, I'll stick to the basics. If you want some chapters that have more details about autistic characters, I can write a few one shots. I don't want ANY exclusion. Without spoiling too much, her weapon is also VERY much like Donnie's. Lots of attachments, tools, and things that could further a plot line. A lot of the technology will be the same but it will all have different purposes. This is gonna be really out of my comfort zone, as most (Y/n) I write are somewhat based on me. If it ever gets too confusing or to OOC, let me know. I want to clarify, (Y/n) is NOT Donnie, I just don't see a lot of reader inserts or x readers with a truly intelligent reader and I thought it'd be cool. The Donnie inspiration was mainly because Ben Schwartz voices Leo from ROTTMNT and Randy.

I want to preface as well, if this does not become a Reader insert, this will be a slow burn. Again, getting out of my comfort zone.

"Congratulations! You have punched all the graves!"

With their signature move, Howard Weinerman a Randy Cunningham congratulated each other, but before they could completed said, 'slappage', Howard moved away.

"Now that we've finished the final final Grave Punchers game, we should talk about the Ninja situation." Howard stepped away, leaving Randy with his fist in the air.

"Okay, I know I'm gonna sound like a broken record on this but...there is no Ninja situation?" Randy asked, dropping his hand.

"Exactly! There is no Ninja situation!" Howard pointed to Randy's desk, where the mask and Nomicon lay, the book still disguised by a Math book cover. "Your Ninja stuff has been sitting at that desk all Spring Break! The stuff's probably collected dust by now." Howard complained.

"Pfft!" Randy waved his hand and crossed his arms defiantly. "N-no, no it hasn't."

Howard raised an eyebrow and blew a large gust of air at the Nomicon. A cloud of dust flew off and towards the boys, causing them to cough.

"Okay, okay. You might have a point." Randy walked to his desk and grabbed his mask. The red lines pulsed softly. "But, the Sorcerer's gone. And with him gone, McFist has no reason to fight me." Randy waved his hand for emphasis.

"Doesn't he hate the Ninja?" Howard asked.

Randy guffawed, "No one hates the Ninja!"

"I hate the Ninja!" A scratchy voice boomed throughout the circular room. "I just wanna punch him in his stupid Ninja face." He grumbled, slouching in his chair. The short burly man mashed his fists together angrily for emphasis. The man's face turned bright red, starkly contrast from his dark Judge's robe, hence the name they all knew him by.

"Whoo, take 'er easy there, Judge. You'll get wrinkles." The melodic voice came from the dark skinned woman sitting to the right of the Judge. She was staring into a compact mirror, although her counter parts were unaware as to how seeing as her fluffy hair was covering her eyes completely. With one hand holding the mirror, she used her other hand to apply bright red lipstick, the shade on the bottom read, 'Snake's Blood'.

"Yeah, you're starting to look like McFist." The sassy voice came from a tall tan man with brunette hair, elegantly styled.

"I am not-!!" The Judge angrily stood, his face red. He took a deep breath and sat back down, gently setting down his gavel after he angrily held it over his head. "I am not like Hannibal McFist."

"What's with this obsession over the Ninja lately?" The woman asked, setting her compact mirror back in her purse. "We're perfectly fine with how we're operating things now."

"And it's not like the Ninja notices small crimes, he's more focused on Monsters and Robots, right?" The brunette asked.

"Not anymore." The Judge shook his head. "The Sorcerer's gone, and with him out of the way, those Robots are soon to follow. It won't be long before he gets desperate." The Judge reached across the table and grabbed the small remote that sat in the middle. Pressing the red button, a projection appeared on the wall being the skinny brunette. "Last night. The Ninja overturned our truck of stolen money, the cops found it right after." Pictures of a dark figure, with, what looked like, a large mallet standing on top of the overturned truck, red and lights flashing behind them, making the lines on the suit look purple. The Judge turned off the projection.

"So we gotta go bigger." The woman smirked.

"How do you figure?" The brunette asked.

The woman, about to answer, stopped as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her blazer and answered sweetly, "Deputy Mayor Kranski. Oh, hi, hon!" Kranski giggled quietly, holding her other hand up to the phone to try to conceal her words, "I'm in a meeting, honey!" She stood straight once more, hand back at her side. "Yep, meatloaf is on the top shelf."

"Kranski." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"Okay, love you too. Buh-bye." Kranski smiled sweetly, hanging up.

The brunette looked at his nails out of boredom, then looked back up at Kranski. "You were saying?"

"The Ninja is used to dealing with larger threats. So why don't we give him one?" Kranski smirked, folding her hands together.

The Judge's eyes widened, "And how do you suppose we do that?"

"We don't exactly have the funds to do that. And before you start, I'm a rich designer. You want a guy to build robots, you should have gotten my old roommate." The brunette checked his nails again.

"Once again, you offer no help, Damien." The Judge rolled his eyes.

"But, I did hear that your old high school is having an invention convention in a few days. Maybe we could...sponsor one of the brilliant students to help us?" Damien smirked.

"My old high school..." The Judge looked off in the distance, remembering his old days in school. He rubbed his Norrisville alumni ring as he recalled the happy, the sad, the humiliation...oh the humiliation... "That might just be the best idea you've had yet." The Judge smirked.

The three began laughing, first small, then growing to loud chaotic laughter.

"Just you wait, Ninja. We're coming." The Judge smirked.

"I don't know about this (Y/n)."

"Bucky, you're gonna be fine. I'm a scientist—"

"You're fourteen!" Bucky interrupted.

"Still technically a scientist." (Y/n) poked her head up from behind her desk, goggles plastered on her head. The left lens was wide and red, much closer to the metal band connecting the goggles than the right lens. The right lens was slightly extended past the left and was blue. "Move to the right a bit." She commanded, motioning with her hand for her companion to move to his right.

Buck looked down at the ground and shuffled to the right, now more centered on the red 'X' on the ground.

(Y/n) grinned and gave a thumbs up, a noise of confirmation exiting her lips before she resumed her fast typing.

"So what does this do again?" Bucky asked, looking around at the dangerous equipment aimed at his head.

"Oh this? It's just a simple home alarm." (Y/n) waved her hand above her screens so Bucky could see.

"Simple, right." Buck nodded, but did not agree at all. "Has anyone ever told you that you tend to go a little overboard?" Bucky asked.

(Y/n) peeked around her screens again, goggles now over her eyes, "No, why?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued typing.

Bucky anxiously tapped his arms to his side but stopped once one of the large metal arms adjusted near his head.

"Okay!" (Y/n) clapped her hands and stood, slightly scaring Bucky. "If I did this right, you shouldn't get hurt! At least not too bad." (Y/n) mumbled. Flipping her goggles back onto the top of her head, she added some last minute adjustments.

"What was that?" Bucky asked quickly, sweating in all uncomfortable places.

"And 3, 2,-" Before she could press the 'enter' button on her large complicated keyboard, all of her screens changed to a cute emoticon of her face. The emoticon had half lidded eyes, goggles, and a lazy smirk, much like the counterpart that made it.

'School. School. It's time for the most important time of the day. School. School. As Galileo said,"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them."'

(Y/n) turned off the alarm with a sigh. "As much as I'd love to listen to quotes from famous scholars all day, Galileo is right. It's time to discover new truths!" (Y/n) stood, finger raised in the air boldly. She grabbed her (f/c) satchel (A/N: sorry, just a question. Would you guys want you to have more inclusive things like (f/c) or (f/drink) or should I keep it Donnie-esque? Keep the favorite color purple and the favorite drink flavorless juice.) and Bucky's bag. She pulled her phone out of her (f/c) hoodie and began typing quickly with just her thumb, her previous excitement suddenly disappearing. (Y/n) began walking out of the dimly lit room, eyes trained on the screen. "You might want to follow quickly, because I accidentally pressed the button." (Y/n) said as she rushed out of the room.

The beeping of the mechanical appendages and weapons powering up around Bucky, made him gulp.

[emotionoitme]

thinking about carmy bending me over his lap and spanking me for being a tease

teehee 🤭 fwb reader as a host at the bear

“i’m not doing anything,” she crosses her arms, coy smile playing on her lips.

“bullshit,” he challenges, shutting the office door “what’s—” he sighs, brows creasing, “-what’s with that outfit?” gesturing to the questionable mini skirt she showed up in.

“what’s wrong with it?” she presses, “you said yesterday we could dress for the heat.”

carmy runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, raking his eyes over her bare legs. she was right, he did say that. he didn’t anticipate, however, how jealous he would feel watching her sweet talk the male customers while sauntering around in a piece of denim that hardly covered her ass.

“you even know how people are lookin’ at you out there? guys?” he asks, jaw tightening. she just rolls her eyes at this, brushing him off.

“no one’s looking at me, chef,” she annunciates the last part, stepping closer, “except you, maybe,” tilting her head to the side. she watches his face grow stern, hoping to further rile him up. he’s silent for a moment, studying her expression, seeing her pupils expand.

“that’s why you wore it, right?” he challenges, further closing the distance between them, examining the way her smirk drops a bit, pout on her face replacing it.

“no,” she curtly responds, refusing to take a step back, her face inches from carmy’s, his breath hot against her lips.

“don’t lie,” he chides lowly, hand coming to rest on her hip, pulling her in. her lips almost touch his, the heat of the small office rapidly increasing. she badly wants to give in and admit her intentions, knowing he would lean in to press his mouth against hers in reward. she retains her resolve, though, eyes flickering towards his plump lips.

“i’m not lying,” she mutters, hazed by the warmth radiating from the man in front of her, hazed by the clean sharpness of his deodorant. it takes all of her strength, but she turns away, distancing herself from him.

“better not be,” he warns, eyes drifting down her form. he knew he shouldn’t be talking to her this way while they were at work, yet he found himself undeniably affected by her presence, trying to bottle it away for later, pants noticeably tighter than earlier. he runs his hand through his hair.

“go back to the front,” carmy directs. the sternness of his voice leaves a prickle over the girl’s skin, meeting his eyes once more, casting over the set firmness of his jaw. she knew what that look meant— the “i’ll deal with you later” glare, his lowered intonation. it did nothing but encourage the girl, wondering how far she’d be able to get under his skin tonight.

“yes, chef,” she breathes out softly, glancing to his lips, then meeting his gaze again. he doesn’t miss the way she bends to his authority, heart pounding in his ears. how much time was left until close? he wonders if anyone would interrupt them if he grabbed her and bent her over the desk, or fucked the attitude out of her. his line of sight follows her as she turns to the door, letting herself out.

she couldn’t deny the heat his words had sent to her core—trying to steady her breath, bringing her hands to her warm cheeks to try and cool them as she makes her way back to the front of house. the girl found that his threatening demeanor inflicted a reaction the opposite of what he had probably intended, instead now plotting her next advance. she glances back through the expo window, watching carmen resume his rounds, barking orders as if he were on edge.

the dinner rush progresses smoothly through the night as the staff diligently works to accommodate the guests, although the influx of customers leaves the front of house short of a few items as the closing hour approaches. the young host makes her way back to the supply closet to grab a few necessities, flicking on the light to dimly illuminate the small space. she spots the bin of spare glassware she needed perched on the very top shelf, inwardly cursing and checking the vicinity for a step stool. she scoffs, finding nothing in the direct area, instead opting to climb the shelf. she hikes up her jean skirt, placing her foot up onto the raised surface, shakily grasping onto the wood as she climbs towards the top. she can almost reach the bin of glassware, perching her leg a bit higher, trying to push herself upwards when she hears carmen’s voice.

“the hell are you doin’?” he asks, eyeing her precariously balanced position, the angle of their height difference with her on the shelf granting him quite the view. she gasps at the surprise of his presence, body unintentionally flinching and knocking her slightly off balance. she clutches the metal railing of the shelf, hearing it rattle under the sudden movement. it looks almost like she would fall, so carmy’s hand instinctually flies up to steady her, gripping onto the back of her upper thigh. he immediately notices the softness of the skin, fingertips teasing the curve of her ass. she jolts at the touch, his grip firmly holding her in place.

“i’m trying to get the extra glasses,” she meekly explains, turning her head to look at him. his brows are furrowed, jaw tightly set.

“there’s a step stool in the office,” he reminds her, moving his hand a bit lower once he notices his current position, trying to guide his eyes away from creeping under her short skirt, “c’mon, get down from there.”

she feels her cheeks heat, self assured that she could complete the task, opening the lid of the container and taking a glass out.

“i just need a few,” she protests, trying not to focus on the warmth of his grip on her leg or the butterflies erupting from her stomach. he sternly says her name, patience wearing thin with the girl.

“down. now,” he asserts, “let me get the stool,” scoffing when he watches her rolls her eyes and continue taking glasses out of the box.

“oh yeah?” his eyebrows raise, leaning to look up at her and catch her eye, “we’re gonna do this tonight?”

heat pools in between her legs at his challenging tone, eager to rouse him, leaning back into his touch with a small pout on her lips. carmen closely watches her with his eyebrows raised, anticipating a response, tensing when she continues to ignore him. he attempts to rationalize his urges, reminding himself that there were still employees clocked in and they were not alone.

even so, carmy slides his arm up her back and around her waist, bringing the other arm to wrap around her legs, picking her off the shelf and placing her on the ground. she cries his name in protest, voice falling flat when she meets his eyes and catches a dangerous glint. he firmly grips her wrist and pulls her as he stalks to his office, dragging the girl behind him. he slams the office door behind them, pulling his apron off over his head, only letting go of her once she’s sandwiched between him and his desk.

she knows where this is going— having wanted nothing more than for carmy to give her some reinforcement, some attention.

“what’s with the fuckin’ attitude today?” he asks, watching her closely, hand coming to her side, “hm? usually such a good girl for me,” his voice is low and gravelly, igniting every nerve beneath her skin, strikingly blue eyes devouring her whole. she lets out a breath, fixated on the plumpness of his lips as she feels his hand creep under the hem of her shirt to caress the heating skin.

“i don’t have an attitude,” she protests far less convincingly than she means to, eyes fluttering slightly at the sensation of his hand sliding up her rib cage and cupping her breast. he scoffs at her response, then leans in to press his lips to her neck, peppering kisses from the curve of her shoulder to the sensitive skin tucked under her earlobe. his thumb brushes over her nipple, feeling her shudder at how the bud quickly perks from his touch. he reaches with his other hand to shove the material of her shirt up over her breasts, marveling at the sight.

“really?” he asks, caressing her soft mounds, seeing her fight a reaction, “cause it seems like you’re trying to get me to put you in your place,” watching as her eyebrows raise and cheeks flush at his completely truthful accusation. she doesn’t respond, just leans further into his touch, eyes glancing away from his as a knowing smirk spreading over the man’s face. he slides his hand back down her stomach, wrapping it around her. he quickly spins her around to face away from him, pushing at the small of her back to bend her over the desk, his other hand gripping her forearm and pulling it behind her, chest flush against the wood. she lets out a small whimper at the swift action, feeling as he presses his hardening bulge against her backside. she can notice her body physically heat up when he dominates her like this, arching back towards his hips, turning her head so her face lays against the wood. carmen releases her arm, then grabs the hem of her skirt and begins pushing it up over her thighs, exposing her ass clad in lace, supple skin enveloping the tight fabric. he quickly palms it, massaging, the softness making his breath catch in his throat, listening to her drawn out whine. his thumb teases the edge of her underwear as he smoothes his hands over her lightly clothed curves, hard bulge against her thigh.

“yes,” she pleads into the wood of the table, heavily exhaling at the warmth of his hand sliding along her gluteus, slightly embarrassed at the compromising position. he lets out a soft scoff in response, eyes gliding over his tattooed fingers grabbing her, pressing into the skin. he doesn’t miss the way she shifts, pushing her ass into him more, her arms stretching out over his desk.

carmen raises his hand, then cracks it down onto the right cheek, gripping the plump skin immediately after to soothe the sting. she releases a cry, pushing further back against him, basking in the hot prickling sensation of the impact. she’s unable to mask the ghost of a smile that prickles at the edges of her lips, having gotten exactly what she sought. his eyes trace over her expression as he raises his arm again, hand flying down onto the other cheek with a sharp smack that sounds through the small office.

“that what you wanted?” he asks in a growl, cock straining against his pants, continuing to firmly press her into the table. she shakes her head and turns away in an attempt to hide the arousal painting her face. “no?” he asks teasingly, smoothing over the reddening skin, “you taking your punishment like a good girl? won’t be all wet when i take these off?” his finger looping through the thin band of her panties, tugging. she hums in agreement, head hazy with lust, only wanting him to spank her more. carmy shoves the fabric down her thighs until they slide to the ground, eyes finding a glistening wetness pooling at her entrance, coating the insides of her thighs in a sticky sheen. he spreads her open, swiping a finger through her folds, slickness soaking the digit. he then wordlessly brings his hand in front of her eyes, showing her how wet his finger was with her juices. she flushes, turning her face out of embarrassment. he grabs her hips, pulling her ass higher up towards him, admiring the red hand prints blooming on her skin.

“you’ve been trying to get me to do this all day,” he taunts lowly, hand wrapping around her throat, leaning in to speak in her ear, “wearin’ that little skirt…talking back,” his bulge throbs against her, and she lets out a whimper. he rubs his hand over her ass once more, then smacks her. she gasps, and he smacks her again in the same spot, gasp morphing into a cry. she reaches back for him, fingertips coming to his thigh, nerves electrified with pleasure.

“please,” she begs, “put it in,” panting, the juices from her cunt soaking into his pants. her body feels incredibly hot, mind only focused on one thing as she pushes back against him rhythmically, making the man grin at how needy she was from what was supposed to be a punishment. he grips her to to hold her in place, reaching down to quickly pull her panties back up her thighs, fabric coming to cover her soaking heat, reddened skin peaking out from behind the delicate lace. he shoves her skirt back down over her ass, then roughly pulls her to stand, ignoring the cry of confusion.

“go finish your close,” he orders, jaw tight, increasingly clouded with arousal. if he had kept her bent over the desk he surely would have given into her desires, providing her with exactly what she wants (and potentially alerting other staff members to what was going on). instead, he remains firm in his decision, taking a small amount of joy in the look of desperation that spread over her features, opening her mouth to protest. he says her name sternly, cutting her off, “you heard me,” pointing to the door, “go.”

she turns, still enveloped in a thick heat of desire, a sting ever-present under her skirt as she attempts to changes her focus to finishing nightly duties.

why do i love mean carmen so much

i’m sorry for my irregular posting!! i have so much going on in my life right now. i appreciate everyone’s support so much <3 it means more than you know

[sunofpandora]

Virago: Chapter 3 part 3

Neteyam x fem na’vi!omaticaya!reader

Characters:

Ka’lik- (like you would pronounce “Malik”) Y/n’s father, deceased, a warrior and hunter of the 

omaticaya clan. A teacher to young warriors undergoing iknimaya.

Zensira-deceased, Y/n’s mother, spider's adoptive mother, a strong hunter and the best singer in the omaticaya clan, and a teacher to young hunters.

Kailo-(Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male)

Popiti-(tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

(Also idk how many of you know this but Jake’s ikran’s name is canonically ‘Bob’.)

(WARNINGS!

Sharing a sleeping hammock with the opposite gender (non-romantically)-

Neytiri hating on spider/ mentions of insecurities, heartbreak, war,/ fluff/ angst/ mentions of hunting, killing animals, mentions of therapy, military, ptsd, romance, pining, use of military terms/codewords/  Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter desc:

Authors note:

Here we go! Chapter 3!! It feels insane to be posting the actual third  chapter of this. But holy moly, building up romance is much harder than I thought. This chapter is a long one so grab your favorite snack, find a comfy spot and buckle up. 

I have a small request for my lovely virago readers, please comment on your favorite line, moment, quote, or dynamic from this chapter. This is so I can know what kind of stuff you guys incline towards so I can throw more of it in as the story continues.

IMPORTANT:

hi guys. So I’ve decided to change spiders age from 20 to 19 for plot purposes. Jake and Neytiri are the same age. Tuk is still 7. Kiri is 19, neteyam is 19, Lo’ak and Y/n are 18.

Important!

This is part 3, the final part to chapter 3. Thank you for your patience!

                                                                   V I R A G O         

Chapter 3;

Surrender to his saubade, he has set his soul and sin ablaze (to be yours)

Part 3 (final part to chapter 3)

Y/n’s pov-

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

(Still Neteyams POV)

Night hunts were a normality for our clan. Especially the ones led by my father.

I stood in the tent, slipping on my arm guards as I prepared myself to join my group on our ikran for the hunt.

I started Mentally checking off everything I needed.

Water flask, ionar (riders mask.), and-

I just can’t seem to focus. 

All I can think about is y/n and how I’m going to speak to her after this hunt. 

Kiri is right. I don’t deserve her. And maybe I never will.

I especially don’t deserve to call her mine.

And that’s okay. I can settle for just having her in my life. That’s enough. 

But that’s a lie. I know it deep down. 

It was never about sex or the physicality of it. I could love her my whole life and never touch her.

Would I go insane? Probably. 

But could I do it? Definitely.

Settling for distance is my sacrifice. Distance is safe. Distance will keep her safe. It’ll keep me sane.

Well, that last part was a lie. 

It’s a glass half full at this point. I told Kiri I only wanted us to be friends again. Normal, average friends.

That’s not what I want. I can keep trying to compartmentalize this for the rest of my life but I’ll always live with this ache. This void in my heart that only fits her shape.

Sacrifices. Sacrifices. Sacrifice-

“Neteyam?”

I snap out of my daze; turning around to see my mother standing in the entrance way to our hut.

“Are you ready yet, ma’itan? 

Lo’ak waits outside for you.”

I shook my head, chuckling awkwardly.

“Ah. Sorry. I got a bit…distracted.

It’s nothing, mother. I’ll be out in just a moment.”

She nods, taking a step closer.

“I wanted to give you something before you leave.”

I turn to face her, my eyebrows raised a bit.

“Oh? Alright.”

She reached behind her back, holding out a small pouch, long and thin tied by a string in a roll.

I open it slowly, knowing whatever was inside was of great value.

Inside laid about 8 newly made arrows. The wood carved for the shaft still fresh in scent and the feathers for the fletching too soft to have been reused.

It’s the color that peaks my eye. The all-too familiar green and yellow shades.

“Your arrows?”

She nods, a look that can only be described as prideful as she gazes at me.

“I want you to use them tonight.”

I shake my head. This was too much of a gesture. I haven’t done anything to deserve.

“Mother, they are beautiful. But I cannot-“

“Ma’itan.”

She cuts me off. Her tone devoid of any hostility or impatience.

“I was thinking about our talk the other night. About your father, and how he is harsh sometimes.

You know well by now what you are. Who and where you come from. You are your fathers son. You have his strength. You carry yourself much like he did in his days of battle. and you must understand that scares him.”

I’m quiet as her words sink in. She places a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes of a golden hue that mirror my own.

“He is not ready to see his son fight his battles or wear his colors. Your father has his own shadows he has yet to face. If you cannot yet wear his colors..I want you to wear mine.”

She places the arrows in my hands, and I’m speechless. 

She gently cups my face, her palm sliding down to my shoulder once again.

“You may use his weapons. You may speak his language. And you have grown up with his sky people ways. 

But never forget, blood of the real warriors comes from us.”

She places two fingers atop her chest, right over her heart.

It breaks my soul to remember that one of my mother’s greatest fears is that we will forget the ways of a na’vi. That even the minimal amount of tech we use in our family circle, with the exception of my fathers gun, seems to threaten everything she knows.

I’m taller than my mother now. Only by a few inches. So I lean down when I go to hug her.

“Irayo, Sa’nok.”

(‘Thank you, mother.’)

I pull back, smiling at her.

“I hope with these, the winds of our ancestors fly with me tonight.”

She chuckles, taking a step back.

“They are with you. Always. No matter where you go. No matter where you are.”

There’s a comfortable silence before my mother sighs, and I put the arrows in the leather pouch that is attached to my ikran saddle for hunting.

“You should go. Your father is waiting with the others.”

I nod, putting on my ionar and finishing slipping on my arm guards.

I lean down, fastening the straps to my leg guards as well before grabbing the small satchel and making my way off.

“Neteyam- one last thing?”

I turn the moment my mothers voice reached my ears.

“Here.” She spoke softly.

I turn to see my mother holding up my beaded choker. The one worn by so many generations of warriors in our clan. I took it off a few days ago when Tuk wanted to re-braid my hair. last time, she kept getting my hair tangled with the clasp at the back of the necklace.

“Let me.”

Without another word, she turns me around by the shoulders, brushing my braids out of the way as she slips the necklace on me, tying the clasp properly to ensure it doesn’t fall while hunting.

She struggles for a moment, having to crane her neck to see properly.

“Curse you and your height.” She mumbles, and I can’t help but laugh.

Once she finishes, I kiss her on the cheek before speeding off.

I jog across the pathway, slinging my bow over my shoulder. The thick air of high camp resonating and weaving through the sounds of distant conversations and laughter.

I finally spot Lo’ak and Spider. Lo’ak stands with his bow around his torso, the string brushing his chest. Spider carries a basket of the arrows he and lo’ak made for y/n.

I pinch the back of lo’aks neck before slinging my arm around him.

��Ready for the hunt, baby bro?”

He hissed at me, shoving me away.

“This is bullshit. I fluke once. ONCE. And now dad won’t even let me fly my ikran for the hunt!”

Spider shrugs, as the three of us start walking to the large crevice cutting into the mountains of high camp, making a large entrance way and a stable spot to land and saddle up ikrans for coming or going.

“Look on the bright side. At least you get to go. Plus you’ll be with the direhorse squad with Norm.”

He pushes Lo’ak lightly to walk a bit faster.

Lo’ak grumbled something and speed-walked ahead of us.

Spider sets the basket down once we meet the meeting spot. The same place the clans war and hunting parties gather before a raid

Or a hunt.

Some other hunters start to swarm in. Carrying bows and arrows of their own, all talking amgonst one another.

Spider groans.

“Lo’ak. Look.”

He taps Lo’ak’s arm, not-so-subtly gesturing to Makeyo standing across from us, speaking with one of the other hunters.

Lo’ak fake gags, Spider glares and the both of them stare him down for a good 7 seconds.

An odd feeling settles itself in the more unwelcoming corners of my heart.

Like fingers trying to pry their way through a barrier.

Something tenses in me as I find myself staring at him too. Remembering how y/n spoke of him at dinner.

Makeyo a bit shorter than me. Only by a few inches. My hair is longer, his braids reaches his shoulders. Still taller than y/n though. 

It’s only when I hear spider whispering I snap back to reality.

“Oh fuck. He’s coming over here. Don't make eye contact. Don’t make eye contact.”

Spider stares up, whistling as he shoves his hands behind him, leaning on a rock. Lo’ak fidgets with one of the arrows, both of them over exaggeratedly feigning to ignore Makeyo’s approaching figure.

He smiles at me, greeting us with an unhesitatingly proper formality.

“Neteyam. Lo’ak,”

He pauses for a moment, having to avert his eyes downward to notice spider.

“Ah, and..”

He struggles for a moment to recall spider’s name. Spider can only glare at the taller na’vi that somehow appeared even more intolerably annoying when he was being kind.

“Spider.” Spider mumbles, crossing his arms.

“Y/n’s brother.” I add, stepping in front of spider to try and distract Makeyo from the smaller human that looked like he was plotting a murder.

Makeyo nodded in recognition, smiling softly.

“Right. I assume y/n will be leading us tonight? As usual. She’s your fathers right hand man.”

“Woman.” I correct, with an unintentional edge delineating my tone. An almost crude enunciation of the word finds itself leaving my lips, making Makeyo still for a moment before chuckling.

“Of course. And what a woman she is..”

When did his face become so punchable?

Makeyo is someone that makes himself very difficult to hate.

Helpful, kind, smart, good with kids, the whole ordeal.

But I am no foreigner to a mask. Why? Because I wear one every single day of my life. Sometimes I wonder what Makeyo’s mask looks like. Or if he even wears a mask at all. Forever yearning to grasp such a thing that always seemed to evade you.

I bite my lip, my jaw tensing as my eyes graze over the expanse of his figure. Up then down.

Makeyo falters for a moment, but proceeds with an unhesitatingly sweetened glean in his eye.

“What I mean is, she is just amazing. Well, I don’t need to tell you that, of course. You’ve practically grown up with her.”

Something about the way he so shamelessly displays his simpering delusions of innocence in the form of this crush he has on y/n-

For lack of a better word, is really starting to piss me off. His bold assumptions of platonic love between me and y/n makes my tail flick.

And no, I’m not jealous. I’m not. Really. Yes, I am capable of violent impulses and of course, I do fantasize about punching his face every now and then, but that’s not jealousy. Is it? No. Of course it’s not.

Yeah, maybe I slightly envy the fact that he can love her so freely. 

The way he could stand where he couldn’t see and hold her hand, unbothered by the absence of sunlight to compulsively provide promises of safety and sanctuary. Maybe I hate that he is unburdened by the weighted whispers of the elders and third eyes peskily pruning gazes at holding her hand. Maybe I hate that he spends almost all day with her. Watching her laugh, and interact so perfectly with the children of the clan.

Maybe I hated the way he had no history with her that resonates with soured feelings and broken promises. I envied his clean conscience.

But that’s not jealousy…of course not.

He’s called away to assist with some other task, and when I turn around Lo’ak and spider are quickly jogging in the opposite direction, towards the edge where an familiar red, purple, and blue ikran perches, with an even more familiar rider on his back.

Y/n smirks as she hops off of  Kailo, the creature releasing an almost purr-like shrill as it rubs its chin against y/n’s cheek.

She chuckles, small luminous sparks leaking through the tops of the rocky stronghold flirting with her pulchritudinous smile.

She hums, gently petting the banshee’s neck.

“Mawey, pretty boy.”

I don’t really know why, but ‘pretty boy’ had an odd way of making my chest flutter. Even if I knew she was talking to her ikran.

She flips her braids over her shoulders. Y/n as always had a bit of a more effete-feel to her wardrobe. That of a warrior, of course. The strongly woven arm guards and her beaded cuff to tie her hair back when she flew, or hunted, always easily annoyed with her braids falling in her face.

The waist beads she wore, which were usually made by Kiri or my mother, were always a signature habit to herself.

She had quite a few scars, blemishes, and bruises that canvassed her skin. I find them beautiful. Like the patterns of the universe printed onto her skin.

Spider and Lo’ak fake saluted as y/n made her way towards them.

“Y/n, ma’am.”

Spider tipped his head ever so slightly, Lo’ak dramatically bowing, making her roll her eyes and laugh.

“At ease, boys.”

Lo’ak stands up straight again, slinging an arm around her shoulder and gesturing to spider.

“We made you something.”

Spider proudly holds up their basket of arrows.

There’s something indescribably tantalizing about the way she smiled at those two. 

“Aw guys, you shouldn’t have..”

Spider scoffed, placing his hands on his waist.

“Please. It was our pleasure to assist the mighty archer.”

It’s a moment later when spider and Lo’ak run off to help norm, and I stand quietly behind y/n as she places the new arrows in her side saddle along with her bow.

“I’m assuming you were on babysitting duty? Supervising those two with the fire pit and sharp edges?”

She teased, nudging my shoulder. I chuckle back, shrugging.

“Of course. Someone has to prevent the children from running with their hunting knives.”

She shakes her head, another giggle tumbling past her lips.

“Tuk? Or Lo’ak and spider?”

I hum before leaning over a bit to stand a bit closer.

“Why not all of them?”

She laughs once again, and my palms feel warm for a moment.

I clear my throat, straightening my back a bit.

“Y/n. Can We talk abou-”

“Alright people let's get moving! Fall in and line up!”

I’m cut off by the sudden cannonade of my father’s voice. Y/n’s  eyes widen a bit as it flickers to where he stood. Talking with uncle norm. She glances back at me, patting my back. “Later. Okay?”

I can’t even respond before she jogs over to my father, only stopping her dauntless strides when she pauses to fist-bump norm.

I follow suit with the other hunters in an almost feverish manner. Slinging my bow around my torso and finding a spot in the forming two long lines of other hunters and warriors beside Lo’ak.

“Let's move it people! We’re wasting the sunset! Oscar-Mike (move out), people, lets get it done!”

When the last few of the younger hunters scurry into line, my father stands tall in front of all of us, his arms crossed over his chest. Don’t be fooled by the brute build. He’s still the same man who stumbled into hometree all those years ago with a ‘good evening everyone’ and a ‘please don’t get up’.

He clears his throat bef0re he starts to speak.

“Good to see everyone turn up for tonight's hunt. This will be no different from training you’ve all had in the past, or currently undergoing.”

Some nod, others shift nervously on their feet.

Y/n approaches from behind my father. Her strides not faltering for even a second. Her chin titled high, looking us over with a gaze of a storm flooded a seafloor beneath a tideline. Y/n doesn’t get in line with us, no. Her place is beside my father. A leader.

spider perched behind her on one of the high ledges in the unevenly rocky stone walls of highcamp. One of his hands placed on her shoulder to keep himself from leaning forward too far.

My father continues.

“For those of you still training for your iknimiya, you will be on the ground team with Norm, and Awkey and the Olangi hunters will join us tonight. Stay in line with them. You will ride the pa’li on the perimeter of that narrow clearing in the middle of the grove. Understood?”

A few yips and grunts were heard from the younger na’vi, a few raising their bows and nodding their heads.

Father nods, turning back to face us again.

“Warriors. Those of you who have passed iknimiya and have ikrans will be in the sky. Bows on the ready, death from above.”

He takes a step back, gesturing to Y/n, who still stood in her place behind him.

“Y/n, my most trusted Archer, will be in command of the sky team. You are to stay within her flight patterns, and not go beyond what she sees as a fit perimeter. Follow her orders, and you might just learn something.”

Father finishes giving us our positions, and I stray from my assigned group, only for a moment. I walk towards the opening to the crevice, leaning down and making the bird call my mother taught me, pressing my lips together and releasing a high-pitched note of a sound.

The familiar flap of wings resonates in the air below me, and before I can blink, my ikran perches herself infront of me, making a soft shrill noise of her own. In all her glory, the green, brown, and yellow skin worn like a Hyde of the forest.

I pet her neck, adjusting the side saddle for my bow and tightening the neck reigns.

Rey’sa is what I named her.

Broken fragments of my mothers language stitched together. The meaning is a remembrance of Seze. My mothers first ikran. I had a toy ikran that was painted green, brown and blue, when I was around Tuk’s age. Y/n’s mother had gifted it to me when I was 7. Modeled after Seze even in color, my mother happily shed tears at the sight of the small wooden toy.

It’s been passed down. Me and Kiri played with it, then Lo’ak, then Tuk.

The toy is old and cracking now, the paint peeling away. I think love is holding it together. Tuk sleeps with the thing every night. I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable, though.

My iknimaya dodged the fateful curse of a chaotic, violence-craving ikran.

I’ve watched my brother and y/n almost die during their right of passage. Meanwhile, Rey’sa bucked me off maybe twice and it was over. Made the bond, had our first flight, the whole works.

I pet her neck, smoothing my palms over the leather skin one last time before I mount. My leg swinging over as I adjust the inner part of my thighs against the saddle.

I wait for my fathers signal.

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

Y/n’s pov:

Neytiri hated when Norm and Max joined the hunt. Or any hunt for that matter. Hunting was a sacred practice to na’vi. To take a life in such a delicate way it’s almost painless. She didn’t want the sky people’s ways to taint such a delicate tradition.

You walk over to where Norm and Max were packing some extra radios in the Samson seat packs, Norm checking all the controls as he whistled a tune to himself.

When you approach, his ears perk up, and he smiles. His usual tan colored vest and shorts fashioned securely to his avatar body.

“Hey kiddo.”

He gives you a hug, ruffling a few of your braids. Mex sits behind him, sitting on the benched ledge of the side entrance to the aircraft, giving you a thumbs up and a soft smile.

Norm sighs, taking a step back, his hands on his hips as he looks you over.

“Look at you. Growing into a brave warrior. Seems like only yesterday and you and spider were running around the lab.”

Norm and Max had been like family to you. Especially with your parents always accounting for Spider, they didn’t completely understand how to raise a human boy, so Norm and Max were always there with extra breathing packs and masks. Plus, being a package deal with spider meant you hung out in the lab just as much as he did when you were little. Poking around at all the link beds and making norm play your stupid little games of tag, even pestering max. Sometimes, Max would let you use his glasses to look at different plants and leaves, because you loved the way things looked under the glass. 

And sure, some na’vi mothers and fathers couldn’t possibly comprehend why such intelligent, well respected clan members like your parents would leave their daughter under the watch of two sky people. But it didn’t matter. Max and Norm fared well as babysitters.

You smiled at Norm, a small laugh leaving you.

“Well. Seems like your joining us on another hunt?”

Norm nods, adjusting the radio on his hip.

“Yup. I keep telling Jake the misses’ ain’t gonna be happy with us tagging along, but he says it’s for Safety. If anything goes wrong, if RDA wants to show up for another playdate.”

You nod, thinking about the attack awhile ago.

Your attention rechannels itself towards the smaller pale creature that emerges from behind a much taller Norm in his avatar body.

Spider blinks up at you through the sheet of glass that has acted as a blockade between you both ever since you were 2. Protecting him from the unwelcoming atmosphere of Pandora.

“Y/n.”

He huffs.

“Please inform Norm here that I’m old enough to drive the Samson.”

Max scoffed.

“It’s not about age, Junior. It’s about training.”

Spider rolls his eyes, gesturing to you with over dramatic movements.

“I’m 19. I’m too old to be hitching rides on my little sister's Ikran.”

Norm shrugged.

“Fine. You can start riding with me and Maya.”

Maya was Norm’s ikran. He told you it was named after someone from the past. Back in the first war. 

Her name is Trudy. Jake told you that you reminded him of her sometimes. Same attitude and rebellious spirit. She piloted a Samson 16, and always called it ‘Maya.’ You admired that he named his own set of wings after someone’s dream of flying.

Spider shook his head.

“Or, let me at least have my own avatar. So I can pass Iknimaya, and get my own ikran!” 

Norm nods, a sudden wave of enthusiasm. “Sure junior. Just put 40 million on the table and i’ll have your order ready in the next..hm..12 years?”

Spider groans, rolling his eyes.

You laugh at Norm’s sarcasm. Though, a part of you really did feel bad for Spider.

Norm and Max were called over to talk with Jake one last time before the group descended, leaving you and spider alone.

You sat next to Spider on the step up to the cockpit, rubbing his back.

“You know I love you no matter what size you are, right?”

Spider scoffs, his head tilting the opposite way.

“Gee. thanks.”

You chuckled, and he spared you a small smile.

He sighed, staring out at the na’vi hunters and warriors that mounted their ikrans, preparing to descend.

You could never imagine what it was like for Spider. Being born a human on a planet he couldn’t even breathe freely on.

Ideals formed under disillusion. The little, messy-loc’d pale boy you’d help paint blue as a child is no longer shielded from the pesky whispers and glares of your clan. 

You don’t think its fair. You never did.  And you even found it a bit hypocritical. Considering your clan’s never ending preachings for the value of nature, balance, and adaptation.

Spider has adapted to be just like your people. And he’s done a pretty fucking good job.

Your moment is interrupted by Norm, who jogs back with Max trailing behind him.

“We’re moving out! Y/n, you’re needed in the front. Spider, lets get moving!”

You nod, grabbing your bow and giving one last small glance to spider.

He smiles.

“Be safe. Please.”

You scoff.

“I’m always safe.”

With that, you mounted Kailo, and took to the skies.

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

Y/n’s pov

The wind whipped and wailed. The familiar sting of raw current against your cheeks was oddly soothing. Your team flew behind you. Neteyam, Makeyo, a few others. Jake next to you, and Awkey below. The smaller group of Pa’li hunters maintain obedience in formation as the maddening rhythms of horse hooves assault the ground beneath you. The half-finished notes demand attention through the heavy thrumming melody.

“X, do you read me?”

Jake’s voice comes through your throat comm with a static quality. Struggling to maintain volume against the violent symphonies that crowded the night air. 

You place two fingers on your comm, allowing your voice to cut through the mic.

“I read you.”

“Norm’s radars are picking up some heavy movement to the east. Take your squad and dive on down. I’ll catch up.”

“Roger that.”

You lift your bow, turning your head over your shoulder. Sending a call to your team, you start to dive further down beneath the canopy. They don’t hesitate to follow you, some even going as far to mimic your dive move.

You don’t have any words for what you see below on the muddied path.

You’ve been sturmbeest hunting before. Many times. But this..This was something you only imagined.

Sturmbeest in the most intense stampede imaginable, some even tripping and folding over one another. There doesn't seem to be even the smallest amount of space between them as they charge.

You made a signal for your team to disperse, some falling behind you or to the left side of the perimeter, keeping a close trail with the pa’li hunters. You saw lo’ak behind Awkey as he led them further down the sidelines. He looks just as shocked as you are.

Jake arrived on the scene not soon after.

His voice broke through your comm again, this time connecting Neteyam.

“X. stay front and center. Makeyo and Pathfinder are gonna spot you from the right. Try and find some targets. The rest of your team are far out behind.”

Minutes had passed, and you had watched the pa’li hunters desperately try to squeeze their way into the flow of traffic.

You watched a good portion of the hunters attempt at shooting one of the sturmbeest on horseback using their bow, only for the arrow to bounce off the rough exterior of the skin.

You watched a few of them collapse in a pile of chaos. 5 of them using spears only to get rammed down by a new group of the mud-covered giants, thrown with their pa’li into the dirt. The sight made you wince. Every fiber of your being just screaming for you to dive down there and help.

“Fuck it.”

You mumbled under your breath, preparing kailo to dive.

“Don’t even think about it.” Jake calls out to you.

You turn to see him, weaving through the trees on bob. 

You shake your head, your long braids wildly whipping in the wind.

“Sir, we have too many hunters riding pa'li down. If we just sent support to the ground level we’d make a kill!”

Jake shook his head. “Forget it, X. Your job right now is to keep your squad in line. If you dive, you run the risk of all of them diving down after you. You say up, they say how high. You gotta keep yourself steady, kiddo.”

You hiss to yourself, your ikran feeling mutual frustration as a shrill escapes your companion.

Neteyam flies ahead with you, his bow at the ready on his side.

“Any openings?” he calls to you, and you only shake your head.

“None that don’t look risky.”

Neteyam nods, his eyes scanning the path.

“Let's get a bit closer. We can scout better angles from below.” he offers.

It wasn’t a terrible idea. You looked to your side, your eyes locking with Neteyam’s. Flames that weren’t quite worthy of being threatening engulfed a jaded voice under your chest. Promises of sunlight and safety that were agonizingly familiar shade of olive green and bright yellow. The same sounds of a bird thrashing in a cage. Exhausted and rough, and yet, there was trust beneath the surface. Like jumping off a cliff and knowing something will catch you.

He nods at you. 

“I’ll be right behind you, X.”

You grab your bow and dive, Neteyam follows your lead.

You cruise above the chaos, mud flying in damp specks, your vision is clouded by dust and overbearing sensations.

Neteyam is beside you, and you can feel his gaze shifting between you and the path below in a predictable pattern.

Your eyes focus on a small rift forming in the middle of the stampede. Like a crack in the mountain. An open space where single beasts drifted in and out of a bare area.

Maybe small spaces still managed to infatuate you.

Your eyes locked onto one sturmbeest that took its turn in the middle. You reached for an arrow, pulling back the string of your bow. The familiar satisfying stretch felt beneath your finger tips as neteyam spotted you from beside, tilting himself down along with you.

You quickly devised a plan. A blockade of sorts could be created. If you shot down at least two of the biggest sturmbest, the rest would slow down because of the largest creatures stumbling about.

You traded in your singular arrow for two of your own, resuming your position as you pulled back your arrows.

Neteyam seemed to understand your plan, grabbing an arrow of his own.

You both nodded at each other, a mutual procedure seemingly placed into action.

“Ready whenever you are, X. I’m under your order.”

Neteyam’s voice sent a cold sensation down your spine. Something about obedience..The willingness to follow your every move.

You both released your arrows, one of your arrows hitting the exact same spot as his in one of the largest sturmbeest, your other arrow landing solo in the other.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The two beasts stumbled into the mud, causing the other sturmbeest to disperse into a wider path. Creating more room for targets.

Neteyam let out a celebratory war call, following your lead as you and Kailo flew up, circling Reysa and Neteyam.

“Hell yeah!”

You screeched.

“Hell Yeah!”

Neteyam mimicked you, his accented voice sounding funny on the human term spider taught you.

You both laughed, circling each other on your ikrans as the wind caught your hair.

Time seemed to slow for a moment as you both caught each other's gazes.

But it didn’t last for long.

“Y/n!”

Lo’ak’s voice screeched through the static of your throat comm, causing you and Neteyam to pause. 

You placed two fingers on your throat comm, tuning into lo’ak’s distressed call.

“I’m here. what’s happening?”

“It’s spider! The Samson is dragging too close to the sturmbeest, its looking dangerously close to a collision. Dad’s comm isn’t going through and neither is norm’s! You have to get through to them!”

Your heart thrashed itself into an unyielding rhythm of uncertainty.

You don’t even answer Lo’ak. You dive back down, ignoring the calls of your name leaving Neteyam.

You finally find yourself parallel to the Samson, that, quite literally as Lo’ak described, was dragging through the air, the usual smooth running ship making unusual sounds as norm seemed to struggle along with a concerned max on the controls. A malfunction maybe? Eywa. Why now?!

You yelled to catch spiders attention, he jumped out of his seat and leaned on the edge of the side door that was now wide open, hanging out with only his arm holding him up as he gripped a bar.

“Tell Norm and Max to go up!”

You screamed, desperately making hand motions.

Spider couldn’t hear you. He leaned a bit closer to hear when suddenly the Samson dips down further, a sturmbeest bucks upwards.

Your heart seemed to completely cease beating for a moment.

You didn’t see what happened. All you knew is that when you looked back at the ship, spider was gone. The panic that sets in was enough to smother your vision in an unfamiliar color you couldn’t quite place. Panic rushed through you in bolts as all you could think of is the possibility of your brother being dead. The boy you carried around on your back for so many years. The boy who protected you from all the creepy boys in the clan. The boy who let you scream and cry and vent after Neteyam broke your heart.

A small whimper left your lips, and you can’t really tell if you’re crying or not.

The world around you seemed almost in a reflective like manner, as If kept in a kaleidoscope or a dome.

You dive down desperately, screaming for him, your voice tearing through the wind.

Neteyam dives down after you, cursing to himself and calling for spider as well.

The world around you seems to blur when you catch sight of a smaller pale creature sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

You dive down, scooping him up by the waist and throwing him on the back of your ikran, one hand struggling to steer as another hand keeps spider slumped against your back, stretched behind you.

Lo’ak is below you, following you on the back of his pa’li.

You land a bit farther from the path in the forest, jumping off your ikran with jagged, uneven breaths as you laid spider on the grass with scrambling hands.

You freeze when you see the twitching of his hands, and the small crack in his mask.

And all you can think about is how if you lost spider, you really did have no family left.

“No, no no no no no please-“

You whispered, not knowing what to do or how to fix this.

Do you take it off? Leave it?

You resort to placing your hand over the crack, thinking maybe it’ll keep more air from slipping inside.

Your vision starts to blur with tears. And just when you place your palm atop the glass, you feel a jolt of pain rush through your wrist.

The pressure you applied had cracked the mask even more, and now tiny shards of glass had covered your palm.

You didn’t feel the pain. Not at first. But then, like the bitch it was, adrenaline was starting to abandon you.

Lo’ak hops off his pa’li and runs towards you, leaning down.

“Shit! Spider!”

He looks at you.

“What happened? What- how-“

Tears streamed down your cheeks. And Lo’ak stared for a moment as one of the strongest people he knew was crying right in front of him.

“H-he fell- I don’t-“

Your breathing becomes uneven.

Behind you you see Jake and Neteyam both land their ikrans, the Samson landing behind them a bit in the distance as norm runs carrying a first aid kit.

The air around you thieves you of oxygen as your chest becomes heavy.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, gently pulling you to your feet as your turned around and met with Neteyams golden hour eyes, his palms softly dragging down your cheeks to your collarbones,

“Hey-hey look at me. Are you hurt?” 

You try to speak but the air in your lungs is swallowed instead, and you gasp.

“S-spider.”

He turns you the opposite way, shaking his head.

“Don’t look at that right now. Look at me. Just keep your eyes right here. I’m right here. Y/n.”

He looks you over, and freezes when his eyes settle on your palm.

“Shit. Your hand-“

You look down, seeing the thin trail of warm red liquid that dripped down your fingertips.

You felt like a faceless phantom in a hollow shell of a wreckage you called your body. Watching the world spin by as you remained trapped in your bird cage of broken wing bones.

You watched as Norm quickly replaced spider mask, his chest rising up and back down again like an ocean being suppressed under a sheet of glass.

You almost release yet another sob when spider regains consciousness. His eyes blowing wide like a shell-shocked animal. The sight of his pale hand gripping Norm’s much  larger bicep makes you sick to your stomach.

Neteyam gently guides you by your waist to behind one of the trees, you press your back to the rough bark in hopes some kind of sensation will break this shock.

He takes your hand, grabbing the waterskin pouch from his knife sheath strap.

You watch as he pours the clear liquid onto your cut. 

The cool water washing away the remnants of red and painful delirium that stained your hand was a soothing stimulation.

He’s movements are quick. Unrehearsed. A raw desperation submerged under his skin.

He rips a strip of fabric off of his loincloth, kneeling down as his knees suddenly assault the dirt with his sudden drop.

He gently takes your hand, wrapping the cloth around the wound, methodical movements carefully tying off this makeshift bandage.

He stands to his feet again, running his palms down your shoulders, then your arms, then your newly bandaged hands.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shake your head. You find yourself in an absent abstraction of a state. A warped, uncanny fabrication of reality. This verisimilitude within a broken mirror. A wondering reflection.

“You’re shaking.”

His deep accented voice breaks your wall.

You find yourself collapsing into him.

It was a blur, the whole thing.

Your face pressed to Neteyams chest as he kept an arm around you. You breathed in his scent, reminiscences in the familiar warmth of him, an almost magnetic feeling flowing through you.

And for a moment, the spaces didn’t seem too small anymore.

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

Y/n’s pov.

Norm says it was an accident. And accidents are prone to happen.

You sat in Mo’at’s tent, watching as the last few warriors had their injuries cleaned and bandaged.

You fidgeted with your bandage on your hand. Neteyam’s old one had been discarded when you returned, and you were given a real wrap for your hand.

Spider was alive. His breathing was normal again, but he suffered from his fall. You’re shocked he got away with only scrapes and bruises. He wasn’t allowed to climb or leave camp for the next few days. He was confined to bed rest. 

He was now resting in the lab bunks. Norm and Max promised you they would not leave his side. It gave you some comfort. 

It’s funny, really. How you had no problem facing war. You were good at strategy. A fierce archer. Different from some other na’vi who felt repulsed by human things.

You were fascinated with calculations and numbers. Planning and plotting. Reading and graphing. Heights, distances, etc.

But when something so sudden and blunt like your brother almost falling to his death out of a skyship, you fumbled and almost killed him.

You fidgeted with your bracelet. The one you, spider, and Lo’ak made as children. Twirling the beads between your fingers and staring down into the void of colors and shapes.

The feeling of Neteyam’s arms around you is far from absent. His scent lingers. Honey and wooded. 

When you returned, he didn’t leave your side. He led you to his grandmother's tent, gave you water and sat with you until his father dragged him away to assist with gathering the meat from the beast you both hunted up to camp.

You didn’t like being pampered or prodded at, but for some reason your skin that now feels as hollow as a shell, it  practically became a ragdoll under Neteyam’s hands.

The world around you felt far too big for this small tent to be encasing the storm of thoughts under your skin.

“Y/n!”

Tuk scampers inside through the entrance, practically throwing herself into your arms.

“Oh Tuk-Tuk.” You whisper, finding familiar warmth carrying you back to reality.

You held Tuk close. As if some threat of a force would take her away. As if the hollowness that shaved your bones longs for something to protect. Something to keep within the circle of your arms.

You smoothed back her braids, kissing her head. 

“You’re back.”

She whispers, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. You place your hand on the back of her head, keeping her still and safe.

“Of course I’m back. I’ll always come back. What do I always tell you, love?”

Tuk sniffles, wiping her big eyes with the back of her hand.

“It would take a thousand sky ships to take you away?”

You smiled, tapping her nose gently.

“Make it a million.”

She smiled, but it fades away a bit as she glances down.

“Is spider okay?”

You still for a moment, the familiar ache in your chest returns.

“Oh little love. He’ll be just fine. Spider is big and strong. He’s a wild child, remember?”

You scooped tuk up into your lap, pressing a few kisses to her head, tickling her stomach. She giggled and thrashed in your arms.

“Y/n! Stoppp!”

She laughed wildly.

Finally, you put her back down, letting her snuggle up next to you as you wrapped an arm around her.

It wasn’t long before Kiri and Mo’at entered.

You bowed your head slightly, greeting mo’at.

“Ma’tsahik.”

She nodded at you, placing a hand on your head, smoothing down a few stray hairs from your braids.

“The salve will take affect soon, child. But you must not use it for the next few hours. Let your mind and your body heal.”

You nodded, squeezing her hand.

“Thank you.”

You whispered.

Kiri sat behind you, starting to untangle a few of your braids from its disheveled position tied back with your beaded cuff.

“Let me straighten your braids, tsmuke (sister). It looks worse than my fathers job at braiding.

You snorted, rubbing Tuk’s back as a small giggle leaves her lips.

Mo’at started to clean up the bowls laid around, behind her entered Lo’ak.

“There’s my sister from another mister. Killer shot.”

He teases, locking his hands with yours in a handshake-hug gesture you and him

Picked up as children from watching norm and Jake do it so many times.

When you pull away, he swings his arm around you, making himself comfortable as he leans sloppily over you, pushing Kiri back further.

She groans.

“Lo’ak! You idiot! Stop making me pull her hair!”

He shrugs Kiri off.

“Relax. We all know who y/n’s favorite sully is.”

Kiri scoffs and you reach behind your head to squeeze her hand.

Before you even realize it, the broken fragments of fear and self-hatred wither away under the surface of a settled skin. No longer sleepless with worry. 

The air feels lighter with Tuk’s small snuggles and Kiri’s gentle hands running through your long braids, leaving some pieces at the ends unbraided just as she always loved the way it looked on you. Your chest doesn’t feel so tight after a few of Lo’ak’s stupid jokes and stories. The laughter seemingly loosening the threads of torn tapestry.

A few hours later, Neytiri enters the hut.

“Mama!”

Tuk squirms out of your arms, running to neytiri as she smiles softly down at her youngest.

“Oh tuk.”

She hums, leaning down to kiss her daughter's head, her attention turning towards you after tuk jogged away to mo’at.

“My sweet. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, standing to your feet as she gestures for you to come closer, wrapping her arms around you and resting her chin atop your head, kissing your hairline.

“Oh my strong girl.”

She whispers, running a hand down your back.

“Strong heart.” She hums, stepping back a bit as her eyes slowly take you in.

She turns to Lo’ak and Kiri, who stand up soon after you.

“Your father has called a gathering of the clan’s hunters and warriors.”

She turns to you and Lo’ak, tilting her head upwards slightly.

“Your presence is needed. Both of you.”

You feel yourself straighten instinctively as you let her words register past the lingering haze of your earlier experience still looms over you like a storm cloud.

Lo’ak stretches, ruffling Tuk’s hair as she hisses and swats him away.

“Alright then. Let’s get moving.”

He nudges your elbow, brushing past Neytiri who softly touches his shoulder as he passes by.

“Y/n. A moment please.”

Neytiri’s slender fingers wrap around your forearm. Not harshly, but her voice has a clear coat of concern.

You pause, looking at Lo’ak once more as he ceases his strides.

“Y/n? You coming sis?”

You nod.

“I’ll be there in a minute. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

He nods, starting to walk away.

Neytiri turns to her mother.

“Sa’nok. Do you mind watching Tuktirey and Kiri?”

Mo’at shakes her head, standing to her feet and ushering Kiri and Tuk back to the sully family marui, Kiri giving you one last hand squeeze and Tuk giving you a small hug.

Once the tent is empty, your focus rechannels onto Neytiri. 

“Is there something wrong?”

You ask.

She shakes her head.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright, yawne.”

Her hands rest on your shoulders, traveling down to your arms.

“You have been through so much these past few weeks, my sweet. If you ever need anything, please, don’t ever be afraid to ask me or Jake or Tsahik. You know this.”

You nod. Smiling softly to reassure her. This woman. This strong, beautiful woman who was giving you the love your mother left behind.

“I am fine. I promise.”

She sighs.

“You have dark circles under your eyes, Y/n. Your thinning a bit. You need sleep, and proper meals.”

She cups your face.

“All I ask is that you take care of yourself, my sweet. And please, let us take care of you. We are here for you. We always have been  and will be.”

She gently runs her thumb over your cheek.

“Lean on us, yawne.”

You smiled, the two of you embracing one another in a hug.

You step back after a few moments.

“I promise. I’ll practice at it.”

She smiles and kisses your head.

“Tonight may be a bit evasive for sleep, thought. I’m gonna spend a few hours in the lab before turning in.”

Neytiri tilts her head.

“The sky people room? Why?”

“To check on spider.”

Her expression sours slightly as she hears his name.

“I’m sure he is healing just fine. The sky people’s tools take no time at all, it seems.”

There was an edge in her voice, but you knew it wasn’t directed towards you.

It was a difficult case when it came to what is left of your family.

It was always you, your father, your mother, and spider. A circle of safety and familiarity that never left you unguarded.

When your parents died, you were placed under the care of Jake and Neytiri. Neytiri would do anything for you. She would go to the same lengths for you, she would go to for any of her children. In her eyes, you were hers. Hers to love.

But love is a sacrificial abstraction. (Seems to be a common theme, does it not?)

You think what frustrates her is the sacrifices you make for him. Love was a unsteadily structured sentiment. And when all his attempts seem futile in forms of pale skin painted blue, there was a sensitive inflection of utterances. 

You were his sister. You weren’t leaving him.

To Neytiri, your life was a cage. Stuck with this feral human boy who fancied himself a na’vi. A soul coaxed to wild-child thunderstorms and bruised knees from tree climbing, messy locs from days of sunlit spaces.

In her eyes you were stuck with Spider. 

Her love and protection was something that created a barricade between you and your brother. You prayed you would never find yourself having to choose between spider and her.

“I should go see him. Just to check on him. I won’t be there long.”

Neytiri nodded, but you can tell she was biting her tongue.

You give her one more soft smile before turning to leave.

“Y/n?”

You turn at the call of your name, and she only utters a few words.

“Your mother loved that…boy. I know she did. But you are allowed to think differently. You need not be burdened with carrying yourself and another.”

You didn’t need her to elaborate. You understood.

You nodded.

“My mother believed that connection is unconditional. The color that stains our skin and our blood doesn’t make a family. She always told me that if you bind yourself to pure hatred, you forget who you are. I love my people. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

Neytiri’s tail swished.

“Y/n. Do not abandon what eywa has given us.”

Her voice was pleading. As if trying to place tessellations of an invisible disillusionment. A carefulness edged.

“I abandon no one.”

You whispered, holding her hands.

“But please. Understand that my home was built around both me and spider. The biggest abandonment I can see from that would be leaving him behind.”

She says nothing.

She stared at you with something you didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t cold, or shallow. Her gaze monitored a retrospection of something lost. Behind a liquid glass. You couldn’t tell if she saw you in a mirror or a window.

It’s blunted and ceased after a few moments. She kisses the top of your head.

“Olo’eyktan waits for you. Go on.”

You nod at her, deciding to take that as your signal to depart.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

When you arrived at the meeting spot, the first thing you see is your clans most renounced warriors in a circle with the exception of a few hunters and Lo’ak. He wasn’t quite as skilled as Neteyam when it came to certain skills, but was a warrior all the same.

You find a spot next to Lo’ak, nodding respectfully at the other na’vi easily recognizable that stood across from you.

Kyuna’s father, Makeyo and his father, Ka’ani, Lo’ak’s current teacher, and the man who took your fathers and place in teaching the young hunters undergoing iknimiya, and a handful others.

The dreamwalkers couldn’t be seen in the gathering, you assumed they retired back to their reserved part of the stronghold.

You turned to Lo’ak, who was fidgeting with his bracelet, the one you, him and spider shared.

“What is this about?”

You whispered.

Lo’ak shrugged, glancing at you, the two usual braids that framed the sides of his head falling in his face.

“Maybe we’re all gonna hold hands in a circle and dance about love and peace.”

He hummed, his face blank.

Your tail thwacked the back of his head.

“The sarcasm is not appreciated.”

You rolled your eyes.

He scoffed.

“I learned it from you.”

You felt something brush your side, you and Lo’ak both turn to see Neteyam take a spot next to you.

“Bro, where have you been? Being late for you is like-

Once in a lifetime.”

He nods, standing next to you.

“Had to make sure the ikran were tended to with a few others.”

He placed a hand on the small of your back, his gaze forged of soft honored gold, and deep skies.

“I fed Kailo and made sure he was tended to. He’s just fine.”

You mentally slap the shit out of yourself when you remember rushing to get spider to the lab so fast you dismounted Kailo without even noticing your companions weariness from the excitement.

“Shit- I completely forgot- fuck.”

You drag your palms down your face.

“It’s okay. He was fine. Still feisty as usual.”

The chuckle in his throat reverberated against the deep accent of his voice.

You felt yourself heat on the back of your neck.

“Thank you, Neteyam.”

He nodded, gently letting his hand fall back to his side.

“Yeah yeah, so kind of you-

Bro do you know what we’re even here for?”

Lo’ak not-so-subtly shoved himself between you and Neteyam pensively, unbothered by his clear dislike of your close proximity.

Lo’ak never loved the idea of you and neteyam being together. Not when you two were courting, and not now. Always pensive of you and Neteyam hanging out for too long, even doing together something as harmless as helping Mo’at back to her feet after a nap.

You always thought it was jealousy. Not the romantic type. The clan always told you that you and Lo’ak would make a beautiful match. But the thought felt like wearing clothes too big for you. Detached, displaced sense of stability. You loved Lo’ak. More than anything, you really did. But it wasn’t romantic. And Lo’ak clearly didn’t see you as wife material. 

That’s fine. He wouldn’t make a great wife either to be honest.

It confused you sometimes. Lo’ak often showed Neteyam off to you, praising him. You wondered if it was sarcasm, or just respecting his brother enough to not embarrass him, but not wanting you two to court again either.

It was a mess for another moment.

Neteyam shrugged, shaking his head.

“Probably just a debriefing. The hunt was…unexpected to say the least.”

You nodded, locking gazes with Lo’ak for a moment as you both had a silent conversation.

It wasn’t long before Jake arrived, the first thing he did was check on the three of you. Mo’at followed behind him, making her way straight for the center ahead the gathering. It wasn’t uncommon for Tsahik to be present and meetings like this.

“You kids alright?”

Placing a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, checking your hand and patting Neteyam’s back.

“We’re fine, sir. Just a few scratches.”

Neteyam affirmed, shifting on his feet slightly.

Jake sighed in relief, hugging both his sons, before dragging you into the hug.

“I’m proud of you boys. Did nice riding out there, Lo’ak. And your shot was right on line, Neteyam.”

Lo’ak didn’t show it, but you could tell he was smiling. He kept his gaze down, peering at the ground.

Neteyam nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as well. You found it cute that both Neteyam and Lo’ak, even at ages 19 and 18, were still excited about getting a compliment from the great Toruk Makto. Their father.

The two of them talked for a moment, you found your gaze drifting to Makeyo and his father. They were speaking in the crowd. Makeyo looked anxious. Almost tensed as his father kept a hand on his back, ranting in a whisper.

Jake lead the three of you to the front of the gathering, straying  from the crowd a bit. “Boys, do me a favor and go make sure we have everyone?”

Lo’ak and neteyam nodded, both jogging off to weave through the crowd and count heads of all the warriors they recognized.

As Neteyam and Lo’ak walked ahead, Jake placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you what you think spider called ‘a thumbs up’

“Nice shooting, sweetheart.”

He smiled proudly, sitting down next to you on one of the crevices.

You tried to conceal a smile of your own; your attempt pathetic as you smiled up at him like a child bringing home a freshly caught fish.

“Thank you.”

He ruffled your hair.

“Two for two shot-

Eywa, you never fail amaze me. What was it you and Neteyam did, the uhm, the two arrows in one-?”

“And one in the other. Something I’ve practiced with Lo’ak.”

You explained, smiling as he laughed.

“Genius. Absolutely.”

You two sat like that for a moment before neteaym and Lo’ak returned.

“Father, we are ready.”

Neteyam informed. Jake nodded, stretching as he stood to his feet.

Mo’at gently touched your back as she stood next to you.

Jake held a hand up, signaling the clan to be still and quiet.

“Thank you, my people for gathering. I’ll try to make this one quick.”

Jake’s lack of informality never seemed to not make you chuckle a bit.

“I have decided to make arrangements for the trainees in the war parties.”

He turned to the group that stood behind Makeyo and his father.

“It has come to my attention that some of you have clearly been ranked beneath your current abilities. And need more open field training.”

Open field training?

It was something you had back when you were 15. A few months after your parents passed. Jake started teaching you human tatical skills. How to use a gun, far distance targets, how to read radios and signals on old ships and navigate the screen charts on the controls. You so heavily insisted on having a position fighting the sky people. You worked, and you trained, until you became the most skilled warrior on your group. Even passing Neteyam and Lo’ak in your group.

Jake appointed you to his side. And you still at the realization that the moment he appointed you, it started with a meeting just like this.

Uncertainty shaved the hopeful soul that coated your bones. 

Jake continued.

“I have decided that the upper rank trainees will start with new practices. They will now be lead by Ka’ani. Awkey, you will lead the years younger.”

So it wasn’t what you thought. Your position remained, it seemed.

The sudden switch of teachers was a bit odd, nonetheless. 

Jake finished his speech minutes later. It was a short overview of new tactics the warriors would be learning. New places for target practice, and unfamiliar routines.

You didn’t mind the new schedules. It seemed like less of your day would be consumed in strategy sessions.

When he finished, the crowd started to disperse. Lo’ak went to speak with Awkey, leaving you with Jake, Mo’at, and Neteyam.

Makeyo and his father remained in their spots; as if waiting for a further instruction.

Makeyo’s father, Va’ru, was ambitious to a point it was farther than frightening. Constantly trying to put his son in first place. Like a cloud formulating a storm that swirled seated under restless skin.

Neteyam stepped forward, his tail flicked slightly.

“Dad, if Lo'ak's group will be with Awkey, does that mean I will be undergoing Ka’ani’s training?”

Jake shifts for a moment, as if trying to place his words in the right order.

“Yes and no. I have a different plan for you.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened only slightly, his tail flicking.

“Sir?”

He tilted his head.

Jake’s tone was clinging to remain inconcous as he saw Makeyo’s father approach.

“Olo’eyktan. I assume this is about the private lessons for Makeyo?”

Private lessons? Makeyo was going to take private lessons with Jake?

Makeyo seemed reluctant to engage in whatever was about to happen, gently tugging on his fathers arm.

“Father. Please. There was no certainty it would be me.”

His pleading falls deaf on his fathers ears.

“Va’ru. There has been a change.”

Jake speaks slowly, as if not to wake a sleeping thanator.

Va’ru is still for a moment.  

Neteaym steps forward, gently past his grandmother.

“What are we speaking of?”

He inquires, his own ounce of impatience slipping past his mask ever so subtly.

Jake sighs, rubbing his temple.

“This is not how things were supposed to go.

Over the last few weeks, I have been individually monitoring the warriors in your group to consider them for private lessons. Since Y/n is my most prominent warrior, she would be teaching the one I chose. My choice was Makeyo.”

Makeyo’s ears flicker upwards, and his father straightens, a smile forming on his face. It wasn’t genuine or even greatful. It was hungry, frenzied with torrid energy.

“Olo’eyktan. I would be honored to have Makeyo be taught under your most trusted archer.”

You felt your expression sour. Clearly uncomfortable with the energy that radiates off Va’ru.

Jake shakes his head.

“I have had a change of mind. As of a few days ago I have decided to give the role to Neteyam.”

This feels mosaic the moment you register his words. The figures around you now made of oddly shaped colors and sizes of glass. All the wrong shades.

You feel your fingers twitch and your mind go adrift. A blanket ablaze blanks your mind to a faceless slate. 

Alone. With Neteyam. 

The words swirl around like a whirlpool. A windless storm without the familiarity of chaos to stabilize the seas.

You try to place yourself in the vision but you can’t. You can’t seem to inhabit the precipice of this reality.

Your shaken away from the void of your thoughts as Jake places a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n. You will train Neteyam. Teach him the things I have taught you and your own ways. He will learn a lot from you. We’ll have another archer in our skies. More air combat support.”

You force yourself to nod and swallow, neteyam still seemingly frozen at the news.

Va’ru is clearly not pleased. 

“Olo’eyktan. With all due respect-“

The funny thing is, there’s not an ounce of respect in his tone. Its ironically edged, as if Jake’s decision is the height of audacity.

“Makeyo has been training. He’s familiarized himself with Y/n’s methods. He studies her.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed when Neteyam’s ears pin down, his gaze narrowing as the words ‘study her’ reach his ears.

You can’t blame him. It does sound fucked up.

Va’ru digs himself in a deeper hole this time.

“He trains the younger children with her. He spends most of his days with her. He’s dedicated his time, his-“

Jake cuts him off, his voice a bit sterner this time, and you can tell his patience is slipping away.

“It’s not about time. It’s about skill. Makeyo is a very talented warrior. There’s no doubt. He’s a strong archer. But neteyam has shown promise over these last few weeks. He’s worked to improve his knowledge on the air strike patterns of the RDA. Hes flown with me to scout the perimeters of hell’s gate. He’s ready to advance to start training with newer methods.”

Va’ru scoffs, taking a step back, your tail flicks.

“You throw your son in the highest place again and again. You choose to ignore the others potential.”

Jake wasn’t one for favoritism when it came to the honest work of his warriors. To suggest otherwise was offensive. 

Honor was valued among the na’vi. It was wrong to accuse him of just always picking neteyam. If anything, this was Neteyam’s chance. He had worked so hard to be seen by his dad. You knew this.

Jake took a breath to steady his urge to let this guy steal the last shred of tolerance he has left.

“Va’ru. Not infront of the others. We can speak privately-“

Va’ru’s tone was biting now.

“You cannot keep doing this. And your son can’t keep ‘running to daddy’ when he falls behind my son and can’t admit it.”

Something surged through the hungered veins under your skin. The fire never stayed absent for very long. Purging itself to cultivate on unsettled gilded flesh.

A hiss left you. The ardent prolonged end notes of something almost inhibited by a growl. A fervid, feverish vehemence whisped behind.

Va’ru’s eyes widened a bit, his prior confidence subduing under a sheet of hesitance.

Jake pushed you back a bit, a warning glare tossed towards your squirming figure to step forward once again.

“We can speak privately. But I will not allow you to insult the hard work of my son. Or question the expertise of Y/n.”

Va’ru and Jake agreed to talk privately, but you predicted just more arguing.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

Seeking solitude in the hidden caves of the mountainous cave of high camp, you settled with your anxiousness with one of the corridors above the first columns.

You paced back in fourth, cursing to yourself and throwing sharp stones at the wall.

You weren’t ready. You just weren’t ready.  The moment Jake and Va’ru left you ran for the farthest place you could find. You couldn’t bare to look at Neteyam.

Jake’s words from earlier pierce the surfaces of unsteady standing ground in your heart.

Love isn’t easy

Love isn’t easy

Love isn’t easy

You know what else isn’t easy? Having to spend all day with the man you used to dream about kissing. Loving. Hugging. Mating with.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your pulse quickens.

You remember that day. You remember the day though you waited for him under the rain. 

Under a lapis hued nightfall you were ready to give him your heart. Raw and bruised and blemished and every curve and dip and imperfection yearned for his touch.

But you fell in love with the sun. And you were undeserving of sunlight.

A boy made of flaxen fanned regrets and flamed forged promises.

You loved him. You didn’t love him for the son made of stone. Through the shifting shadows and vibrant visions of excellence engraved in ecstasy that echoed through disassembled pieces of manic daydreams.

You loved him. Tormented yourself with distance and fervent optimism. Idealisms too far to be attained.

This forbidden collision of the sun and the moon. 

And you waited. Damn yourself yet you waited. 

You waited for an explanation for his departure. A reason for this distance.

Weeping under a wild sky, disgusted with your own reflection. The sight of yourself just a poor effort of what you could have given him.

And then your family went somewhere you cannot follow, and suddenly he seeks remorse.

It’s unfair. It is so fucking unfair the nights you spent crying over the loss of his warmth. The sunlight felt cold. The warmth wind felt unfamiliar. 

And then you found the moonlight. The contingent comfort of dimmed sapphire hues and vengeance.

You refused to cry. You refused to be weakened. Your mother had seen fire and survived it. You had seen fire and burned with it-

And burn you will. Burn under the Sirius secrets whispered under the raptured intimacy of independence and its sweetening bindings.

So be it. So burn. bloodshed forging bones into bludgeons of tattered tears trains and scarred screams, soulless sleep.

Forgiveness surrounds itself in fractions of frustrations. 

You damned the sky starless because all the stars had fallen with your tears waiting for him. Waiting for the voices in your head to surrender and ricochet to the shallow corners of the planes traced lines on your palm.

You recount. Roll back and fast-forwards through every memory no longer remembered under glistening sunlight poured into liquid glass, and the hues of his golden eyes.

He was daylight. He wore a halo of Helios and draped warm flesh over sun-stained soulful essence to challenge the sea and the sky. A faint heartbeat under adrift moments scattered to a tethered wind. 

A man, a mask, and it’s burdens and bodies and sun-dried bones. He was a symphony and you, a mere half note of lost virtues.

Why must you constantly be at war with yourself? Why do you do this to yourself?

Do you hate him? 

Do you love him?

Do you want him?

You were nightfall.

Cascades of constellations and curls of lavender. A restless shade of reddened sunset, undertoned swirling and swept to hues of purple, orange, blue, a fiery sunset. Moonlight worn like a veil, tear-stained lips and blood stained hips and yet, oh how beautiful you were. Dark and delicately dressed in grief.

Sensationalize these bittersweet story endings and happily never after forever, then maybe some more.

To restrain this punishment, this internal unredeemable consciousness. 

Someone is behind you. Coming slowly into your peripheral view. 

You move quickly, drawing the knife on your hip and flipping it into your uninjured hand, steadying at the perpetrators throat.

“Shit! Easy, easy…”

Neteyam holds his hands up in defense, his eyes wide at your sudden movements.

“Y/n. It’s just me.” He cautiously lowers the knife in your hand.

Great. The man of the hour.

Oh eywa must have you fucked up if she thinks you’re dealing with this right now.

“Get out.” 

You didn’t mean to sound so punitive, but you were pissed, confused, and on the verge of tears. That was never a very delightful combo.

Neteyam shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“Neteyam I’m not going to tell you again. Get out. Please.”

Your voice cracked this time as you took a step forward. 

“Y/n please.” He begged. 

“Get out! Go! Leave! Fuera!”

You used every word you knew. Including another earth language spider had been teaching you. ‘Spanish’ is what he called it.

He winced, but only for a moment.

“I can’t. Because if I leave id just carry myself right back here.”

It satisfied you but it did nothing to console the ache in your heart.

“Then what do you want?”

You whispered.

“Another chance.”

Fuck.

You took a step away, running your palms down your face. Neteyam ignored the gesture, walking after you.

“It’s been years, y/n. I’ve dug my own grave and I’ve lied in it. I can’t eat or sleep properly anymore because it fucking eats me alive.”

Neteyam Sully was never one to curse. That was more of lo’aks calling card. So it stunned you slightly when he spoke in such a way.

You turned to face him. His golden hour eyes locking with yours.

“I don’t ask for your forgiveness. I only ask for you to hear me out.”

He took a breath.

“From the moment I was born, every single moment of my life feels like it’s been calculated. Staged, rehearsed, nothing was ever out of place. Everything was a plan- a strategy. I’m not asking for your pity but all I ask is that you understand. That life is all I’ve ever known, Y/n.

And then I fell in love with you. And you were just-“

He paces around as he walks. Talking with his hands, making grand gestures to try and articulate some spontaneous thought without really knowing what he was saying at all.

For every moment in his life being staged and prepared, this sure as hell didn’t seem rehearsed.

Maybe the sun-stained son made of stone broke like glass after all.

He continues stumbling over his words. It was rather unlike him. To be this outspoken and unequivocal with his words.

“You we’re just, Eywa I don’t know how to begin.

You were wild and unpredictable, so unbothered and reckless and passionate. You still are. You make the most dangerous shit I’ve ever seen in my life seem so graceful and beautiful. You care for my siblings, Tuk wants to quite literally ‘be y/n’ when she grows up and Lo’ak and Kiri would probably plot a mass murder if you asked them too. My mother and my father love you like one of their own. I don’t want what used to be between us ruin any of that. I’m tired of it, y/n. I’m tired of all the awkward formalities and hating eachother. And I’ll be damned if I’ve ever met a woman in my entire life who knows a bow and arrow like you do.”

You’re stunned. Everything he says sinks under your skin for a moment.

He takes a breath.

“Y/n. Please. Give me another chance. To be friends again. I miss you. I really do. You're going to be my teacher now. We shouldn’t be-“

“Just shut up for a minute.”

A small ‘yes ma’am.’ Leaves his lips as his gaze darts down a bit.

Now, if someone told you about 30 minutes from now you would be hugging neteyam sully, you probably would have called them crazy.

But now, as eywa as your witness, that’s exactly what you did.

He was still for a moment, and then he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back.

You took a step back, smiling at him softly.

“Our first lesson starts as soon as my hand is healed. Don’t be late.”

And with that, you left.

Neteyam stood there for a moment before jumping up, fisting the air, a celebratory ‘fuck yes!’ Leaving his lips silently.

Maybe things made of stone can break like glass after all.

☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓✮ ☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮☾𖤓 ☾𖤓✮

Parallels:

Biggest parallel: the “hell yeah!” Line between neteyam and y/n is parallel to this scene between Jake and Neytiri.

Spider and Y/n - Tommy and Jake (two siblings, two sides of the same coin)

Y/n and Neytiri - (learning to love even through grief)

Y/n and Jake - (’soldier mentality’ and low self image because of trauma)

Lo’ak, Y/n and Neytiri - (rebelliousness) 

Spider and Neteyam- (oldest sibling responsibility)

Authors note:

I’m alive! I survived probably the longest chapter in this fic. I think I owe all my virago readers an apology. This chapter is WAY overdue. I'm sorry about that one, y'all.

But we're finally out of the enemy stage! And now I get to enjoy writing fluffy moments between neteyam and y/n, aka our resident virago and sun son made of stone.

So I just want to clear some things up before I wrap this up.

In my story, spider is a Spanish speaker. I read the original script and saw that he does speak Spanish in one of the scenes, and as a Spanish speaker and a spider stan that just warms my heart. Yes, a na’vi speaking Spanish might sound kinda cringe but it's my personal headcanon that spider would definitely teach y/n Spanish. 

Btw I just finished watching the hunger games so if anyone can catch all the Haymitch and Katniss references between y/n and Jake I will literally kiss you.

Remember to pleas like, comment, reblog, and as a request from me, please comment your favorite quote. trope, dynamic, or moment in this chapter or even the story so far.

Taglist

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@0stargirl0

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

[ryanguzmanscowlick]

!!!!!!!!buddietommy!!!!!! + #76

The Borders by Sam Fender -

Eddie saw the scar before Evan did. Tommy’d just gotten his ass handed to him on the mat during one of their sparring sessions, and when he hauls himself up to his feet with groan, he tugs his tank off to swipe over his dripping face.

The thick, ropey scar carving a straight line down Tommy’s spine from low on his nape all the way under the waistband of his shorts trips Eddie up for half a second. He takes a swig from his water bottle and whistles. “That’s gnarly.”

“Hm?” Tommy glances over his shoulder and follows the path of Eddie’s gaze. “Oh, yeah. Fell out of a hay loft when I was in high school.”

Evan feels it’s before he sees it. He goes home with Tommy when they’re all kicked out of Chimney’s hospital room after the wedding. He manages to keep his hands to himself long enough for Tommy to take a shower, but as soon as Tommy steps out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist and water glistening on his massive shoulders, his barrel chest, his hips. His hips that look good enough to eat.

He’s on Tommy two long strides later and Tommy’s face is scrunching up into their kiss and he plants a broad palm in the small of Tommy’s back to pull him closer-

A curious noise falls out of him as he pulls away just enough to furrow his concerned eyebrows at Tommy while his hand climbs up, up, all the way up. “Was this … on the job?”

Tommy drops a more chaste kiss to Evan’s lips, against his birthmark, between his brows. “Nah. Fell out of a hay loft when I was a kid. Had a couple surgeries.”

Evan’s eyes light with mischief. “Maybe we should keep you out of my bedroom just in case.”

Tommy scoffs. “Why, you planning to push me?”

“Someone pushed you?” The teasing smile drops off Evan’s face so fast Tommy instinctively pulls his foot back like the weight of Evan’s alarm with crush his toes.

He pets blunt, damp fingers through Evan’s curls. “It was an accident, baby. Don’t worry.” He shivers. The water clinging to his skin is starting to be cold instead of sexy. “Wanna help me dry off and see what trouble we can get into?”

Eddie and Evan both come with Tommy to his dad’s funeral. They’re buffers between Tommy and the crowd of mourners he hasn’t spoke to in years. Not that any of Tommy’s extended family will really give him the time of day, probably, but it gives Tommy something to focus on that isn’t the sick sludge of anger, fear, shame, regret and still - somewhere, somehow - love, that his insides have become.

Before they made the trek across Arlington to the plot Tommy’s father would be buried in, they’d huddled outside Tommy’s truck with thermoses of coffee. Evan fussed with Tommy’s tie while Eddie stayed on lookout duty for any approaching family members. Tommy didn’t have his game face on yet. He wasn’t ready.

Over Evan’s shoulder he spotted his father’s widow. Three steps behind her, in full military dress uniform, was Frank.

Tommy hasn’t seen his childhood best friend since he skipped town for the army, about two months after Frank’s violently abusive mom married Tommy’s violently abusive dad. By then, Frank and Tommy weren’t talking anymore. They could barely look at each other. Not after Frank shoved Tommy out of that hay loft.

Tommy shudders and worms away from Evan. He needs more room to breathe. It’s suddenly so hard to breathe. So hard that tears are stinging his eyes. “I don’t- I don’t think I can do this. I don’t want to do this.”

“Then we go home. Right now.” Eddie was already pulling Tommy’s keys out of his coat pocket, glaring daggers at the growing mass of people dressed in black entering the cemetery. “You don’t need this shit.”

“We can go back to the hotel and order room service and watch movies. We can cuddle and Eddie can give you a back massage and we don’t have to think about any of these people.” Evan’s nodding fervently, his hands hovering somewhere around Tommy’s shoulders.

He’s trying to catch Tommy’s eyes, but Tommy tilts them up to the sky to try and find some peace in the flat grey above them. His scar burns. His mom’s face stares back at him from heaven. He doesn’t believe the same way Eddie doesn’t believe, but he’s a weak man seeking out comfort wherever it’s offered to him.

It’s Eddie’s hand that gently grips his chin and pulls his eyes back down to earth. His eyes are warm with resolve like a thousands year old red oak in the California sunshine. His thumb slides gently through Tommy’s stubble. “What do you need, querido?”

“I need to see him put in the ground.” It’s ugly, but it’s the truth.

“Okay, then.” Eddie locks the truck with a flick of the key fob and slides his arm through Tommy’s.

Evan does the same on his other side. “Maybe we can even throw some of the dirt on ourselves.”

[spork-supremacy]

Mr Walker’s unhealthy relationship habits

This analysis has been a long time coming but I’m just going to do a condensed version of what should be in a really long essay I’m working on.

so in a previous post I mentioned that I would further go into several issues that pop up in Jay’s character when he’s in a relationship. This shall be that post.

at the start of the show everything is fine, he’s quickly pinned as the comedic relief who would most likely derive some of his comedy from failing to impress the girl he liked. And then within eight episodes the show actually follows through with the relationship it sets up between Jay and Nya (who let’s be real was at first obligatory female we need to have this plotline and appeal to a wider audience from a narrative stand point, as much as I don’t like to admit it)

there was literally nothing wrong between the two for the first two seasons, like maybe early signs of possessiveness on Jay’s end, as seen in Double Trouble when he is told that his double kissed Nya before he could and then promptly poofs him out of existence. “No one kisses my girl.” But frankly that’s on par for the writing of the time from what I can tell. Or Jay’s general desperateness to be with Nya (see Wrong Place, Wrong Time, when Zane says something along the lines of “we have to convince Wu to help Kai or else Nya will never fall head over heels for Jay.” And Jay jumps at Wu yelling for him to help past Kai.) or any girl for that matter considering his first words in the pilot were “we’re saving a girl? Is she hot?”

aside from that there is no unhealthy display of behaviour that I can think of, and mostly the relationship was just a thing that was just there and often brought up to mess with Jay or even help build his character as his true potential lied in his self-confidence and learning he does not have to change who he is to be liked. For reference see the entirety of Once Bitten, Twice Shy.

the real issues start to show themselves during season 3, at first it was just something small, with the implication that over the months between season 2 and 3 that the main ship on the show was going through… something that developed offscreen. This mainly due to Jay’s clingy behaviour and boundary issues as Nya states “what did we say about boundaries.”

I still don’t know where this could be applied anywhere before season three though.

Unhealthy trait number 1 has been identified, and will take ages to be brought up again. Boundaries are further discussed in season six where he is shown to be in constant Violation of Nya’s, so much in fact he is able to have a parallel between him and the main villain of the season for that reason. It is implied that he himself comes to this realisation when Nya calls to the fact that both him and Nadakhan want her for themselves but no one considered her needs.

later on in the episode Black Out do we get the worst of his emotional outbursts. A side plot line that had been developing was that of Nya considering other options because a computer said she should be with Cole instead of Jay, no I’m not going to even how that machine knew anything about her, just going to accept the cartoon logic. Jay finds out about this from Pixal who corrects his mother as she says Jay and Nya are such a great couple. He freaks the hell out, as one does when faced with not being the number one option and instead of having a good discussion with his girlfriend about this, he instead tackles Cole as soon as he steps into the trailer.

for all intents and purposes Cole is oblivious to what is going on and fights back in a mixture of spite and self-defence, further fuelling a rivalry that really shouldn’t exist if someone just acted mature and-

Unhealthy trait two identified, that of jealousy so strong it overrides rational thought.

We can actually explain this trait as a result of Jay’s insecurities that we know have been present probably before the first season. Skipping to season six we are able to identify that a sum of these insecurities are rooted in how Jay grew up, raised in a junkyard and poor, we also know from season one he is also insecure about his general looks and personality. Most likely believes that he could never be enough for anyone so he overcompensates with false bravado, and once his ego is shattered it only grows with spite.

the third unhealthy trait that we can identify is the way he idealised relationships. In the pilots he makes it clear that he hopes to be attracted to whoever they end up saving, and once gets to properly speak to Nya he shoots his shot, well Zane speaks for him as he is unable to do it himself. All he asks is “do you like blue?” And the rest is seventeen seasons of history. In season six it is shown that Jay also more or less believes a relationship will solve all his problems, particularly to do with his self-esteem. Hence why he does anything to get his relationship with Nya back the way it was before season three, despite Nya’s insistence on not wanting a partner. He thinks it is what’s best for the both of them, when really he is just thinking about what is best for him, as being in a relationship helps him feel accepted.

with this we goes into the final trait, that of his selfishness. As we can see a lot of these problems are pretty much all on Jay and have to do with the relationship in relation to him. Until season seven, which is when the relationship was treated as more a background thing instead a catalyst for drama, we can see that Jay is often thinking of himself. He is insecure about himself, he disregards boundaries to get what he wants, he idealises relationships because he thinks it will validate him. He is too self absorbed in the early half of the show, so much that no wonder he developed these traits. But like a good character he grew and we don’t see much of these traits after skybound, signalling that some message about his selfishness was able stick and help develop him.

I’m probably not gonna read over this but here you go.

[cnwolf-brainrot]

Guess what y'all I've got MORE KAI-CENTRIC MOVIE IDEAS because at this point I'm getting excited about the idea of a live action Ninjago movie because the more I think about it, the more I think there's a lot of ways that they could do it well. However, one of the biggest things I'm worried about is that we'll have a repeat of The Lego Ninjago Movie: great development of the main character, but then the other characters are basically just there to be there with little to no development at all.

So here's continuing off of my last two posts talking about making Kai the main character and a base plot concept, here's what I would do with the other ninja if I was writing the live action movie:

First off, general characterization themes: with the concepts that I have going into this Kai-centric movie already, I would want "protectiveness" to be a core part of the movie and have every character go on an arc that centers around this theme.

Starting off with Cole, this theme is already pretty central to his character throughout the show. He's the eldest in this line up, and so he wants to try to take the others under his wing and make sure they're safe. I think his biggest struggle with the "protectiveness" theme is that the others are extremely resistant to his protective tendencies. He needs to learn to take a step back in order to let the others take a step forward and accept help. Also we're totally keeping Cole's backstory with his dad and dancing and everything, but since that plot line doesn't fit in with the main theme as well it's something we would save for a sequel.

For Jay, I think it would be interesting to tackle a character arc of selfishness/selflessness for him. As an orphan who grew up in a junkyard (a REQUIRED portion of his backstory) this Jay is pretty protective of his inventions. He tends to see a lot of value in things that other people see as "trash" because he can see the potential in them -- possibly alludes to an inferiority complex, but I digress. His arc in this movie would focus on him learning to value the people around him more than his creations, and to shift his protectiveness over the things he makes over to protecting those around him.

Zane, of course, has protectiveness built into his character; he was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. HOWEVER, I've been thinking about this the last few days, and I'll be honest... I don't want the nindroid reveal to be in the first movie. For the ideas that I have going into this, I think it would be better to save this reveal for a a second film. I'll probably talk about this more in a later post BUT I'll just leave it there for now and say Zane would be a bit more of a background character in this first movie!

Nya, on the other hand, would play a pretty central role. Like the show I wouldn't give her elemental powers in this first installment, but she would have a very clear arc of independence VS protectiveness. She starts out by being kidnapped by the Skeleton Army, and she spends the first 30ish minutes of the run time breaking out and meeting Lloyd. Lloyd offers her help and she initially turns it down because of that 'independence' aspect of her character, but later ends up accepting it so she can get them both out of the army's clutches. With Lloyd's help she's able to build a rudimentary exoskeleton suit (think Iron Man Mark 1) and get them out of there, only to meet up with the ninja. They offer for her to be part of the team, but at first she refuses because she's set on being more of a solo act. She rebuilds her suit throughout the rest of the movie, turning into a full-fledged Samurai X by the end. At the climax of the movie, the whole Kai-saves-Lloyd-from-the-volcano scene gives her the motivation to step from an independent role to a protective role, and she joins the team to help finish the fight.

I just want all of the characters to actually have character arcs and motivations and I'm terrified that the movie won't give us that lol

[sliceofcake-cupoftea]

Shhh... It's Okay

Character(s): Suzuki Ryo (x reader), Amagai Kohei

Plot Line: Abandoned by your best friend, you are left to clean up after her and her boyfriend's mess. However, what happens when that boyfriend and his bestfriend show up at your door at three in the morning? Are they really here to apologize and what's with the way Suzuki Ryo looks at you?

Warnings: Bullying (sort of), Amagai (this man really needs a warning for just his whole character), High & Low (Typical violence)

“It’s okay… It’s okay…” You mumble incoherently, half awake as you slowly walk around the room. While there was no mirror in your room, you were sure you looked like a mess. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair and heavy purple eyebags underneath your eyes. Yes, being a parent was hard.

Especially when it wasn’t your fault.

You feel a tear silently slide down your cheek as you continue to bounce the baby in your arms. His crying not letting up even for a moment as he screams into your shoulder. You knew you couldn’t do anything about it. Colic; when a baby cries for a long time for no obvious reason. 

It… It just…

…Sucked. Life sucked.

She was supposed to be your best friend. It was always supposed to be you and her against the world. You wondered when it started, when she started to be such a shitty friend. Probably when she started dating Amagai Kohei if you had to guess. Though, maybe she was always a shitty friend to you. You just didn’t want to believe it.

When she came to your doorstep crying about how she was pregnant by that bastard and was thrown out by her parents, what were you supposed to do? What the hell were you supposed to do?

What could you have done that would have changed the situation you were put in now?

After nine grueling months of taking care of her and her giving birth to a healthy baby boy, she… she just left. It was in the middle of the night, when you and Haruki–the name you helped her pick out for the baby boy–were fast asleep. 

She disappeared from your lives.

And… And you don’t think she will be coming back.

“Shit– It’s okay… It’s– It’s okay…” You whisper, kissing the baby's head. Though you aren’t sure if it's meant for him or you. 

Finally, after five long hours and it being 3am in the morning, Haruki finally stops his cries and curls up in your hold. The young babe falling asleep, finally; looking like an angel as if he wasn’t screaming like the devil a couple of minutes ago.

“Just like his father…” You mumble as you set him down in his bassinet. With one last look down at the peaceful baby, you make your way into the kitchen. Needing a cup of tea to relax yourself after the terrible day you have been having. 

Just as the pot begins to roll into a boil and you are leaning with your back against the counter, you hear your doorbell ring. 

“What…” You take a glance at the clock to make sure you weren’t going crazy, “It’s three in the morning. Who the hell…”

As you make your way to the door and crack it open, making sure the chain of your lock was still on just in case you had to shut it quickly, you can’t help but freeze once you see who was at your steps. 

You just stare at them in disbelief. You must be imagining things. This must be from the lack of sleep. They would never ever show up here at your door. But as Suzuki Ryo greets you, you begin to understand that this was no dream and fully snap out of it. Realizing you had been staring at Amagai for far too long.

“What– What the hell are you doing here…?” You finally ask, your voice shaky as you attempt to hold back your anger. After a year, this bastard decides to show up. Now. 

As Amagai says your name, his voice sounding uncomfortable and meek compared to how he used to talk to you, you wanted to scoff. Maybe he finally got his ass handed to him, you can’t help but think as you see the bruised and bandaged wounds the two boys sported. 

“I… We wanted to bring some things for… umm… Haruki…” Amagai murmurs, shuffling uncomfortably with the bags in his hands. Suddenly, he seems to realize something and quickly adds it, “And, some things for you as well! Ryo… got some things for you. It was… his idea.”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to tell them to go away and never to come back. But, you were, one, too tired to scream right now and, two, really needed some more things for Haruki. Between High School and your shitty part-time job, your savings were running out quickly and your job couldn’t replenish them fast enough to keep up with the demand of raising a newborn.

With a small sigh, you unlock the lock on the door and allow the men in. As they place and unpack the items on the counter, surprisingly choosing the right things a three month old baby needs, you begrudgingly fall pity on the blonde man in front of you. Especially as he attempts to act like this was no big deal but his awkward shuffles around the kitchen as he follows Suzuki give him away rather quickly. So, with another small sigh, you tell Amagai that he can see Haruki but he had to be careful as the baby just fell asleep a few moments ago. You wanted to smile at the way he seemed to light up at the offer, quickly washing his hands before stumbling over his feet to make his way to your room, but were too exhausted to do so.

Shit. 

You were crashing.

“Were you making a drink?” Suzuki suddenly asks, making you pause in your movements of rubbing your eyes. As you glance up at the man, one that had never really addressed you before, you can’t help but take note of an obvious difference in him. While nothing outwardly seemed to change especially in his appearance, he seemed… to glow? No longer seeming like this emotionless doll that Amagai puppeteered at every whim and need. 

“Ah…” You murmur, snapping out of your thoughts once you realize the male was waiting for your response, “Yes, I was just making some tea.”

As you step forward back to the kettle that had long started boiling, Ryo seems to stop you. 

“Let me do it.” He simply says, using his larger figure to cut you off as he grabs a mug from the drying rack and places a tea bag from the pack you placed on the counter earlier inside.

“But–” 

“You shouldn’t be pouring something this hot while you are half awake. It’s dangerous.” 

With a frustrated sigh, you glare at the man as he continues to make your tea. Not even noticing how he seemed to add the correct amount of milk and sugar you like in there. Nor how he knew to place two ice cubes in it as you didn’t like it too hot.

“I can make a simple drink just fine, Suzuk–” Suddenly, a wave of nausea hits you and you find the world around you begin to spin. 

What–

“I’ve got you,” You can’t help but jump a little as Suzuki wraps his arms around your waist, catching you. Not even realizing your knees had begun to give out. You wanted to argue saying you were fine but you both knew that was a lie. As suddenly a sharp pain bounces through your head, you lean against Suzuki for support as he leans against the counter to hold you steady. You found yourself quickly slipping as you turned your head and leaned it against the man’s shoulder. Hoping the harder you squeezed your eyes that the pain throbbing in your head would go away. 

“Ryo…” You incoherently murmur as one of the man’s arms quickly wraps around your behind, lifting you just enough the ground so he could carry you safely. Allowing him to bring you to the couch before you practically fell limp in his arms. 

As Ryo lays on the couch, his back facing the back of it as he holds you close to him– carefully placing a pillow underneath your head before moving a lock of hair that obstructed your vision–you can only stare at him. Taking in his dark endless eyes that pierced back at yours.

“You're okay.” He says, his rough calloused hand brushing more of your hair out of the way as you begin to lose consciousness. While his face stays its usual rather blank expression, you can't help but notice the slight worry in the man’s gaze. 

The same one he gave you the last time he saw you. 

“Ryo…” You murmur once more, your eyes growing heavy as you finally fall asleep. Swearing you felt the gentle yet chapped feeling of Ryo’s lips against your forehead as he wraps you in his arms, whisking you off to dreamland.

–.--.--.--.--

“Mina!” You can’t help but sputter as you stare at your best friend. Shocked at the information she just told you, “You can’t go having–”

Quickly, you look around the entrance to make sure none of the Senomon Tech students were close enough to hear, “Sex. Without. Protection.”

“But, he pulled out,” She whines as she adjusts her makeup in a pocket mirror she carried with her. A slight pout on her lips as she listens to you chastise her. 

“That doesn’t coun–”

“Oi! Look who we have here,” While Mina practically beams at the voice, you can’t help but freeze as Amagai and his gang walks up to you two, “My lovely girlfriend…”

With a piercing gaze from Amagai that trails to your figure, like a predator would his prey, you can’t help but feel goose bumps litter your skin.

“And her precious pet.” 

That's what made you question your friendship with Mina. That exact trait from Amagai. For while Mina and him were in the same high social class, you and many of the other students weren’t. Making everyone else his tools or, in your case, his girlfriend’s pet.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this. It always left a sour taste in your mouth and a sense of humiliation that seeped deep into your bones. But, she always begged you. Just one more day, she would say, I only have you. You're my friend. My only friend I hold dear to my heart. So please, one more time.

Fucking manipulator.

But, you fell for it every time.

“Hey, bitch,” You can’t help but flinch a little at the way Amagai addresses you, “Mina has owned you since you were a kid, right?”

What? You can’t help but glance a confused look Mina’s way. But, of course, the girl wasn’t paying any attention to you. Instead adjusting her lipstick as she hums to something Saboten said.

“Hey,” You take a step back, making your back hit the wall as Amagai steps forward. Kicking his leg up so his foot was right by your waist. “I don’t liked being ignored.”

“Sorry…” You sputter, fearfully glancing between him and Mina, “Yes, Mina has been—... has owned me since we were kids.”

“Well, Mina and I thought of something the other day,” Amagai starts, finally gaining Mina's attention as he gestures to her, “She has a long-term pet…”

As he gestures to you, making the others snicker, you realize you don’t like the look in his eye. Something. Something bad was about to happen.

“And, I have a long-term tool…” 

Bringing his hand around, he gestures to Suzuki. The black haired man as usual just staring you down. A cold expressionless slate on his face. One that never failed to make you feel small and intimidated under his glance.

“It’s only right that we bring you two together.” He finishes, making you stare with wide-eyes in confusion as he brings his hand up to pat Suzuki’s shoulder. Seeming to have told the man something ahead of time as the black haired man steps forward. Making his way in your direction without another word.

“H– Hey!” You wince as Suzuki grabs your wrist, a bit too harsh to be comfortable, as he stands by your side. From feet to waist to shoulders, you were pressed side by side to Suzuki Ryo. Looking more like two mannequins for the others to look and examine than people.

“How adorable. Don’t they look great together?” Amagai chuckles, wrapping his arm around Mina. The young girl nodding her head in agreement with a lovesick gaze on her face as she stares at her boyfriend. Soon, the rest chime in agreement (more like mockery of you two). One who you believe was Saboten even throws a condom on the ground in front of you two.

Disgusting.

“Go.” Amagai says as he starts to walk away, “Go on a pathetic tool date or something. Hell, go make some new tools for society to use.”

Fucking… Disgusting. 

What a terrible man.

You can’t help but shiver and shake in anger as you watch the group round the corner. Leaving you and Suzuki alone to just stand there as if they didn’t just treat you two as something less than human.

Unable to hold yourself back from the anger that is pumping through your veins, you snap your wrist out of Suzuki’s grasp. Sending the male an glare as he stared at you from the corner of his eyes. Still sporting that annoying expressionless face of his that you wanted to punch as you began to walk away.

As you get halfway down the street away from Senomon Tech, suddenly someone calls after you and it takes you a moment to realize as to who. Especially as you have never heard him speak before.

“I…” Suzuki starts and as you stare at him, you realize what you have been missing. While his face remained cold, expressionless, his eyes told a different story. Worry; was he worried for you? “I’m… sorry. This was my fault.”

His fault?

However you never got to ask what he meant by that as without another word, Suzuki Ryo leaves. Disappearing from your life just like you did with the others, following his lead. Deciding that very next day to transfer to a new school to get away from Mina and the brutes of Senomon Tech.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. 

Life never was.

—.—.—.—.—

“She’s still asleep?” Amagai says as he enters the living room. Pulling out a cigarette only to pause and put it away once he realized where he was, “It’s half past noon. You sure she ain’t dead, Ryo?”

At the sadistic laugh that leaves Amagai’s lips, Ryo can only roll his eyes at his friend’s sense of humor. Some things would never change. 

“Damn it, look at you.” Ryo’s eyes trail from the peaceful expression on your sleeping face to Amagai. His friend giving him a knowing look, “Absolutely smitten by her.” 

Another laugh leaves Amagai’s lips, this time just softer, as if he knew something that Ryo didn’t, “Then again, you always were.”

With wide eyes, Ryo can’t help but stare at his friend in shock, “You knew.”

“Of course, I knew, Idiot.” Amagai scoffs, “Why did you think I started dating Mina? The way you would slow your pace whenever you would pass by the café she worked at was pathetic. You looked like a lovesick puppy.” 

“You…” Ryo lets silence fill the air as he thinks over what his friend just informed him, “You dated Mina because…” 

“Because she was her best friend?” Amagai finishes, gesturing to you still sound asleep in Ryo’s arms. The young man playing with the strands of your hair. Carefully untangling knots with his fingers that he would run into before continuing on as he listened to his friend. Letting out a small sigh, Ryo rests his face on your neck, seeming content, before suddenly letting out a bigger sigh and lifting his head slightly to return his attention back to Amagai.

“Ko…” Ryo starts, pausing before proceeding with his words, “...you are such a bastard.” 

“Hah?” Quickly, Ryo catches a pillow that Amagai whips in his direction, simply placing it on top of your waist acting like it happened every day between the two, “Me? You were the one that wouldn’t talk to her. I had to order you to go on a date with her.”

“And, how did that turn out?”

Tense silence fills the air between the two boys at Ryo’s spiteful response. Both with their gazes cast downward as they appear to think.

“...Sorry,” Ryo voices, the first to speak up and always the first to apologize, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Idiot… what are you apologizing for…” Amagai mumbles back, before letting out a sigh and changing the topic to something else, “At least she hates me, not you. You still have a chance.”

“Yeah…” Ryo murmurs, sighing as he pulls you closer to him. Allowing himself a selfish moment to enjoy your presence. Silently hoping you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon so that you two could stay like this. Looking like lovers even though he knew the moment you would awake, you would be nothing more than strangers, “...hopefully.”

“You will…I promise,” Amagai says, sitting up straighter as he hears Haruki begin to cry in the other room. Both men quickly acting once they notice you begin to stir from the young babe’s cries. 

“Fuck… How the hell does she do this every day?” Amagai curses as he gets up with a groan, watching as his friend quickly covers your ears with a pillow so you don’t hear the cries. Hoping you would fall back into your deep slumber. 

With a small smile, Ryo laughs lowly at his friend’s complains, “Maybe we should ask Rao for help–” 

“I would rather die.”