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urhoneycombwitch · 11 months ago

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shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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jinxthequeergirl · 4 months ago

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The Ol switcharoo (pt4)

Stan x reader/ ford x reader

Summary: You journey into stanfords mind for the sake of the shack when you learn more than you probably should have

Warning: none Look, I'm trying to lay down more romance. The stakes are gonna get raised soon. We can't keep tiptoeing guys

Also sorry if it feels a little choppy and all over the place

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~

Stanford had been distant a lot more than you would like to have admitted over the past few weeks. Sure, you'd get the kids together, and all of you would hang out and have your own little adventures, but more often than not, you couldn't find him before you followed your new adopted great niece and nephew out the door for the next great adventure or activity for the summer.

You loved going out with them, taking them to lunch, or to shop Dipper even more recently, inviting you to monster hunt again. But when you weren't invited and the kids went on their own journey, you found the house was only quiet.

In the what seemed to be rare and far in-between days stan was with the three of you, you felt a great wave of peace wash over you. The four of you laughing in the car after narrowly escaping one of stans crazy ideas, sitting with him on the back porch, watching the kids run around.

You felt a buzz inside you when you sat next to him, watching him laugh at dippers water balloon hitting the ground without a pop. You loved your routine with him before the kids arrived. It seemed like that was becoming all you knew.

But the shack felt different with laughter filling it up. And if you realized it or not, those two kids were bringing you closer to Stanford when he hung around. You took a deep breath and scooted in closer to Stanford, his arm instinctively wrapped around the back of the couch, letting you fill as much space next to him as you wished.

"I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what i did to deserve this." He said, looking down at you as you now watched the twins in the yard. "Everything happens for a reason, remember?"

"I guess so." His hand fell softly onto your shoulder, snuggling you closer. "Look out!" You and Stanford both jumped up as one of the water balloons landed where you were once sitting.

"Can't a guy get any peace around here!?" You laugh at him as he runs out into the yard demanding a balloon.

The feelings washed away, knowing he'd be hiding by tonight.

He was right, though. You couldn't believe this was your life as of right now.

"Y/n?"

You hummed in response as you cleaned dippers cut. "Would you say your feelings for Grunkle stan are...of the romantic kind?" Mable asked from right beside her brother her own adventure wounds needing to be rented too.

"Mable!" Dipper yelped, knocking her over with a nudge. You laughed out loud at her question. "Sorry..sorry." You cleared your throat. "Excuse me. Mable, what would make you ask something like that?"

"Oh c'moonnn as a love expert-"

"Your twelve-"

"I can see how you and grunkle stan look at eachother, you've been friends for years, and you've really never felt anything more than friendship for him?"

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about her question. "I guess maybe a few years ago... but things were different back then, and I never knew how he felt about me. Besides, so much time has passed that I'm sure that old fart feels anything other than tired anymore." Mable jumped to her feet and smashed your cheeks together.

"Y/n it is my mission as a matchmaker and love expert of gravity falls. I make it my mission to get you and my grunkle together!"

"Mable, why do you even care? Grunkle stan has shown no interest in anything other than money since we've been here."

"Dippers got a point." You say pulling tables small hands from your face. "Besides, I'm not taking love advice from the girl who dated little Gideon not too long ago."

Mable's face grew red, and she pulled the neck of her sweater up. "Ugh, don't remind me." You chuckled again, refocusing the attention to the wounds on each kid as Dipper went back to explaining what had happened in the first place.

You'd gone the next few weeks thinking about mables question. Did you still have feelings for stanford?

It wasn't something you thought much about. You two just existed with eachother nothing ever really came out of it since you were young. Besides, you'd never make a move unless you knew his exact feeling for you. He'd been so secretive recently that the only way For that to happen, you'd have to get inside his mind to find anything like that out.

Of course that was almost impossible.

"Y/N THERES A LITTLE YELLOW GUY TRUING TO TAKE OVER STANS MIND WE NEED YOUR HELP DIPPERS GOING TO TAKE US IN THERE COME ON COME ON!"

Of course maybe you spoke to soon.

"Mable slow down! What's going on!?" You asked as she dragged you by the sleeve into the family room where Stanford sat sleeping.

"So like we saw little Gideon in the woods and poof a little yellow man appeared and he made a deal with him to go inside stans mind to get the code to the safe that Mr pines keeps the deed in." Soos explained in one long breath you could see his face Turing a strange shade of red and violet.

"Wha-"

"No time we need to go now before it's to late!" Mable cried before you could even think to ask for clarification or any follow up questions.

You followed along with what Dipper told you to do, and you watched as he read from an oddly familiar book.

You make a note to ask him about it later.

Your thoughts were cut off as dippers chanting got louder, and before you knew it, the world had melted away from you, and you were suddenly sitting in a patch of grey grass.

"Wow! This is stans mind?" Mable said, hopping up and looking at the grey landscape before you.

You pushed yourself and looked around jaw on the floor. "I've done some pretty crazy things in my day, but this is beyond me..."

"Thanks for coming along y/n!" Mable said.

"Of course! You know you can count on me for anything, kids."

"OK, we need to keep an eye out for the triangle guy." Dipper stated as you headed twoard the shack.

"Yea, look put for the triangle guy!" You jumped at the voice that appeared out if no were surprised to see it belonged to exactly what the kids and soos had said.

"It's him it's the guy!" Soos said in alarm pointing at the glowing shape.

"You leave our grunkles mind alone, you isosollies monster!" Mable shouted as she charged at him. "Mable!" You and Dipper shouted each holding out an arm to grab her.

You watched in horror as the triangle swallowed her up and waited a minute before spitting her back out into your arms.

"Stan's family, it's good to finally meet you! Some more than others!" He said, floating particularly close to you as he said so. You scowled at him and shielded Mable from him. "Names bill cipher."

"Get out of stans mind! You have no business here!" Dipper shouted.

"Trust me, kid! You're the only one who should be getting out of here your way over your heads." His one winked as he shot a finger gun twoard Dipper shooting ahole through him. "I'm gonna find that code and and you're not going to stop me!"

He flew away, leaving a triangle shape hole in the shack.

"We gotta get that code before that freak does." You said pausing to giggle as Mable reached her arm through the hole in dippers chest.

"Mable!" You coughed and put on a serious face. "Alright, kids...and soos.. let's go."

You lead the way into the shack of stans mind your eyes darting from door to door each labeled a different thing.

Fears, hopes, etc.

"Look! Stans memories!" Soos pointed out. You all ran into the hall watching memories play out all around you. "Quick, let's split up and cover more ground."

You turned to open a door but the mables' hand caught yours. "Look what I found!" She squealed with giddy. "You found the code? Already?" She shook her head and dragged you out down the memory hall and too a door with a heart carved into the wood. Signage warning against opening the door nearly covering every inch.

"What is this?" You asked the girl beside you. "Look for yourself." She lifted up a "get lost" sign to reveal the doors true label.

"Y/ns memories."

"Oh Mable I dunno...we should really be looking for the code."

"Oh, c'mon, you said it yourself that you never really knew what he felt for you it wouldn't hurt to look!"

"Yes, Mable, it would! the shack is at steak-"

Before you could continue, Mable had opened the door and pushed you in. "Face your fears y/n! Face your emotions!" She slammed the door shut on you. "Don't worry y/n we'll find the code before bill does, I'll come back for you when we do!"

you huffed and stood up dusting yourself off, this was ridicules you knew how Stanford felt about you you've known each other for what felt like your whole life. Besides you told Mable already if anything was to happen it would have by now. your hand grasped the door handle as you prepared to chase the twins and Soos down.

"Congratulations!" you heard a voice say from behind you. you turned to see one of the many doors cracked open. despite your better judgment to go after the kids you went straight for the door pulling it open. to see your wedding day.

well, your fake Vegas wedding. stan stood at the counter with the cashier in a dinky thrift shop on the outskirts of Vegas itself, waiting for you. "oh right..." you mumble to yourself watching your shared memory through Stans eyes.

"I'm sure you're very excited about the wedding." Stanford shrugged. "Trust me, I've been married a few times...this ain't nothing new for me." you frowned a little, you weren't sure why, you knew that's how he'd felt and it wasn't a real wedding. "Stanford! Look at this!!!" you yelled excitedly to him pushing open a dressing room curtain behind him.

you excitedly spun around in the wedding outfit you had picked out, you were so much younger, it suspired you too see yourself.

you watched Stanford's face flush upon seeing you his eyes fixated on you jaw almost on the floor. you didn't remember him looking at you like that. "wow you look...you look amazing!" he said rubbing the back of his neck trying to find the right words. you squealed in a pitch similar to the one Mable had done earlier before shutting the curtain again. "you were saying this wasn't something new?" the cashier asked raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"listen between you and me this whole Vegas wedding isn't anything new for me...they're corny, cheap and lousy all things y/n doesn't deserve any of that stuff, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people, but I've known y/n for a while now the way she makes me feel isn't like how anyone has made me feel before I could never tell any of this too her, I've ruined to many relationships I could risk losing her in my life so try to act nonchalant about these types of thing, don't want to give myself away you know." the cashier stared at him unsure of how to react to all the information dumped onto him.

"here's 20 bucks to forget everything I said." he said sliding money across the counter.

you shut the door with a smile before looking down the long hallway. you crept over to another one. opening the door only to see a normal night you asleep on his shoulder as he continued to talk about the movie that was playing without realizing. it took him a whole monologue before realizing you had passed out. he leaned over careful not to wake you but enough to see you where sleeping.

he took a deep breath before talking some more. "Here goes nothing, y/n you've been with me through thick and thin when no one had my back you where there...I guess what I'm trying to say is y/n I...I think I have feeing's for you...you've made me an honest man in some ways...and.." you jumped upon hearing screaming.

"Oh no Kids!" you took off running swinging the door open and running down the hallway running past memories trying to find the kids. "Dipper!? Mable? Soos!?"

"Dipper!-"

"This here's a-"

"Stan Vac-"

"Stanley do something-" you could no longer hear the kids let alone see them in all the noise of Stanford's memories. you began running out of the memories hall in hopes you'd find them somewhere else. "Dipper!? Mab-" the wind was knocked out of you as you and dipper crashed right into each other. "Y/n! there you are!"

"Dipper you're ok! where is your sister and Soos!?"

"Bills got them! Don't worry I have a plan!" you followed dipper through Stanford's mind following his exact plan, you never even thought about what you could do in ones mind, flying and giant water guns didn't never even cross your mind.

"Hey one eye!" you and dipper grabbed bills attention as you floated up to his level neon colored squirt guns in hand. "WHAT!?"

"Dipper! Y/N! how are you doing that?"

"This is a mindscape you can do anything you imagine in here!" you explained."who told you that? dont liten to them!"

"ready dipper!?"

"ready y/n! aim and..."

"Fire!" you both shot your water guns at bills eye causing him to cry out in pain, you watched Mable conjure herself kitten fists and launched them at bill.

"Now think of a portal out of stans mind!" the four of you shut your eyes and all thought as hard as you could as a portal opened up under bill. "No No No wait! wait! wait! ENOUGH!"

you all flew back as the space around you was now a white void. "you know you're all a lot smarter than you look! I'll let you go for now, you might prove to be useful especially you y/n."

you scrunched your nose at him. "but remember there will come a day when everything you care about will change! until then I'll be watching you!"

there was a bright flash and he was gone. "well that wasn't ominous.." you said "we did it though! He left!" dipper cheered.

before you knew it Stan woke up and you were all wakening up in the Livingroom. and for a moment everything was normal again. "Ugh I had the weirdest dream." stan said rubbing his head. "You're ok!" you exclaimed running over to hug him and planting a quick kiss on his lips. his face heated up as you did so and before you knew it the kids had joined the hug.

a few hours later you'd gotten the kids to go to bed and found Stanford sitting on the back porch. "care for a drink?" you asked offering him a pitty cola he accepted with a smile. and you sat down next to him.

"where have you been?' you asked. a lot had happened today a lot that made you think things over and you decided to start there.

"what do you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "I've been right here like i always have."

you shook your head. "Most days we can't find you, its been me and the kids or just me in the house, a lot has changed since those two came around most of its been for the better but i didn't think it would drive you away."

he frowned. "do you trust me?"

"Of course." you answered without hesitation.

"I've been working on something i cant tell you what but it's important. and I'll tell you what if it bothers you so much, I'll be around more." you smiled.

"good, I miss you." you said bumping into him.

you both chuckled and then there was a beat of silence you looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Stanford."

"Yea?"

"I think...we'll in light of some recent events...Stanford you mean the world to me."

"uh-oh is something wrong? why are you getting all sappy?"

you took another breath and exhaled all the words you were trying to say.

"Stanford pines I think I'm in love with you and I think you feel the same way about me!" you covered your mouth after you spilled it all. and he stared at you in shock. "Y/n...I uh..."

"I know this is random...buy. You know better late than never, right?"

stan stared at you in awe where your eyes sparkling in the starlight. was this really happening to him right now?

"Stanford?" you placed a hand over his when went silent. normally he would jump at an opportunity like this. sweep you off your feet. But as he stared at your hopeful eyes all he could do was wonder how much of what you felt was really for him, Stanley Pines and how much of it was for who you had believed him to be.

"Oh come on Grunkle stan! Take her on a date already!" Mables voice shouted from above you.

"Mable? what are you doing up!?" you shouted standing to your feet to look up at the twins practically hanging out their window. "yea c'mon Grunkle stan!" dipper agreed with his sister.

"Date! Date! date!" the two kids cheered into the night air.

"alright! alright!" stan said trying to shush them.

"y/n...would you do me the honors of going to dinner with me?" you laughed and his heart swelled at your answer. "Of course Stanford pines."

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

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violetsaffron5 · 1 month ago

Text

Beautiful Disaster (13)

← Chapter 12 • series masterlist • Chapter 14 →

13 | Glass

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

A party at Satoru's house ends in disaster.

words: 3.9k

AN: Hey guys! Not sure if anyone is even reading this story anymore, but I fell of the face of the planet for a while, sorry about that. Things IRL were crazy with work and my personal life, and I just didn't have it in me to write anything. Things are much better now and I was in the writing mood, so decided to give this one a little update, since I already had the chapter mostly written already.

I will be going through it to proofread/edit before I do the last two chapters (which will probably be posted together).

Ao3 • Discord 18+ • Social Media • Series Masterlists

April 2012

Taking a deep breath, cinching the robe around your waist a little tighter, you step into the class. There’s a murmur from students setting up their supplies, getting their easels into position, and canvases ready to draw on.

The walls are covered in art from various classes and years passed - even some portraits of past nude models hang on the wall as examples of creative liberties and proper proportions. Something many artists have a hard time getting a handle on.

As you stand in front of the class, a little stool next to you so you can sit on occasion while the other students draw, you look around the room, making eye contact with Choso.

He gives a small, shy smile, like he always does and you swallow thickly - feeling the way your chest and neck heat with the flush creeping up to your cheeks.

Satoru wasn’t particularly… pleased when you told him you were taking an extracurricular art class this semester. Less pleased when he realized Choso was in your class.

And even less so when you told him you offered to be the nude class model.

The decision was easy though, despite his grievances. His only real one was jealousy and not wanting everyone in the class to ogle you - which you assured him wasn’t likely going to be the case. You have no reason to be ashamed, and everyone who’s taking this class knew this was an assignment. Besides, the professor has made it very clear that if anyone says anything or makes you uncomfortable, they’ll fail and be removed from the class.

You offered to be the model when you found out it’s a paid gig, and you’ll take an opportunity that arises to get your own money - money your mom doesn’t need to know about and money she won’t have any reason to grill you on how or where you spend it.

Once you explained this, Satoru relented a little, though you’re confident his problems have more to do with Choso than anything else. Which is ridiculous considering there hasn’t been anything more than a friendship between you two. It’s not like you have a history with Choso like Satoru does with Mei.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the professor states after closing the classroom door. You look around, taking in the overhead string lights giving the space a warm glow - the shades are drawn on the windows, stopping anyone from outside the room from witnessing what’s about to happen.

Licking your lips, and looking up at the ceiling, you draw the ribbons on the robe, letting the soft, fluffy material fall to the floor. The air is cold in the room, immediately perking your nipples as you purse your lips, feeling a wave of goosebumps cover your flesh.

The rustling of utensils being grabbed and the scratching on canvases immediately fill the room. Gaining a little more confidence, you look back at the class; Choso’s deep black eyes are the first - and only - you see in the room. At the beginning of the class, you thought it might be more awkward with him here, being the only person you know outside of class and seeing you vulnerable in front of everyone. It’s more comforting than you could have imagined.

In reality, you don’t know him all that well, but he’s always been kind, and he hangs around Suguru a lot. You also don’t miss the way his eyes trail the length of your body before he busies himself with what he’s supposed to be doing.

There are several times during class when your eyes meet, you give a little shrug and smile and he grins full-on, laughing to himself quietly as he continues drawing your form.

When class comes to an end, the professor allows you to leave to dress in the bathroom down the hall and come back since he has a few announcements.

Once you’ve changed you take your place next to Choso as the teacher drones on about maintaining professionalism from seeing a classmate naked and urging everyone to continue working on their canvases on their own time, turning in their finished work at the next class.

Except for you, of course, being exempt from having to draw anything and getting an automatic A on this assignment.

“Thanks for drawing me naked and not being a perv about it,” You whisper to Choso, nudging his shoulder gently with yours.

He flashes his brows, chuckling, “That’s kind of my thing, you know - trying not to be a creep.”

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you wait for Choso to finish packing his art supplies, slipping the canvas under his arm, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him out of the room.

“Are you coming to the party tonight? Haven’t seen you around the last few.”

Choso gives a wistful smile, “Yuji’s grandpa is sick, in the hospital so I’ve been joining him on his visits. But I think he’s hanging out with his friends tonight.”

“Great!” Smiling widely, you turn and walk backward toward your next class as Choso stops in front of the stairs, on the way to his, “Then I’ll see you there!”

Steam rolls out from the bathroom door when you open it, the cool breeze from Satoru’s room hitting your skin, immediately making you shiver. He’s lying on the bed, arm relaxed by his head, long legs crossed at the ankles.

As soon as you emerge, he lets his phone drop to his chest, a heated gaze watching as you meander around, combing through your hair and deciding what to wear for their house party tonight.

Per usual, there’s a fight tonight starring yours truly. How the higher-ups at the school haven’t figured this out, even with Toji acting as an “inside man” - for lack of a better term - is beyond you. You’d think schools would want to investigate why several students show up with black and blue bruises and cut lips and eyebrows every so often, but apparently, they have better things to do.

Satoru has gotten off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and slipping them under the towel until it becomes loose enough to drop to the floor. He pulls you close to him, one large hand splayed on your stomach, the other playful tweaking your pert nipple while he kisses down your neck.

You let out a soft sigh when he nibbles your lobe, before whispering, “You smell so fucking good,” pushing his hips into your ass so you can feel his growing length.

With a sharp gasp, he spins you around, setting you on his dresser, wrapping your arms around his neck as he continues nipping and kissing your neck. And almost inadvertently, as soon as he slips his hand between your thighs, you close your legs a little tighter.

Satoru pulls away, brows knitted as you sigh and purse your lips. His tone comes out harsher, more exasperated than you think he really means, “What’s wrong?”

The truth is your heart fucking aches at the state of your relationship. Things were so great, until they just weren’t anymore - there was a part of you that always thought people who described being in a hard relationship felt like they were drowning were just being dramatic. But it honestly feels that way.

Your chest is heavy and your heart beats so loud that sometimes it’s the only thing you can hear; your throat feels so tight you can’t catch your breath. There are nights where you’ve stayed up wondering if he feels the same way but in reality, you’re not sure he’d ever tell you.

He avoids conversations like the plague and is so much better at hiding his feelings and playing them off than you are.

Since the Okinawa trip, there’s been a lot weighing on your mind about how realistic this relationship with Satoru is. He’s fun and makes you feel alive with his silly ideas and schemes, makes you feel heard and seen. And along that same vein, there are times where you feel simultaneously loved and unwanted.

Afterall, he’s the one who wanted to keep things casual but relented only because you wanted a relationship and it almost feels as if you forced his hand with that. Sure, he made his own choice, but even then, there are things you can’t deny or look away from.

There’s no hiding Mei is a point of contention in your relationship. She has been since before it even started. And it was something you thought would go away - that she would see the two of you together and go find someone else to sink her claws into but she just keeps coming back, and for whatever reasons, he won’t let her go either.

Satoru told you their relationship was primarily physical - that there’s no real interest in one another beyond that, and the only reason they were involved to begin with was because of their family businesses being tied together. More convenient than anything.

So why won’t he let her go? And is it fair to even ask him to? Outside of Suguru, Shoko and even Utahime, she is one of his oldest friends.

You’ve also been wondering recently how much Satoru respects you. Considering how many times you’ve talked about how uncomfortable you are with this… relationship with Mei and how it hurts you, nothing has changed despite his repeated promises.

And it’s not logical to think he’d change.

Satoru groans when you hop off the dresser, grabbing your shirt and slipping it on, “I’m fine. Just not in the mood, I don’t feel great tonight.”

“You’re never in the mood anymore.” There’s no mistaking the annoyance in his tone as grabs his glasses to shield his eyes, no doubt rolling them behind the dark glass.

Despite the lie you’ve been telling, you want nothing more than to have him, let him have his way with you as he has so many times before. But you’re not emotionally ready to go there right now - you need time to think and you can’t do that when he’s buried ten inches deep in you almost every night.

So the physical aspect of your relationship has taken a hit. You’ve tried talking about Okinawa with him, bringing up everything with Mei once again - but just like always, Satoru says you’re being dramatic, making a mountain out of a molehill.

But it’s clearly not nothing since it bothers you and it’s clear as day to everyone around.

Satoru doesn’t bother staying by your side during most of the party, opting to meet up with some of his classmates. You try not to pay too much attention to him, but you sneak glances over every now and again.

He chats, a drink in hand while laughing and animatedly waving his free hand around while telling a story.

“Hello?” A pale hand waves in front of your face, snapping a few times, breaking you out of your trance - apparently you were staring longer than you thought.

Blinking a few times and turning your head, you look at Choso, “I’m sorry - what were you saying?”

He gives a soft smile, glancing between you and Satoru for a moment, “Everything okay?”

Pursing your lips and sighing heavily, you nod slowly, “Yeah… It’s just…” You trail off, not sure how much or what to actually say. It doesn’t take long to make a decision though, since looking back over to Satoru shows Mei has joined his little soiree. “He says nothing is happening, but he’s always with Mei.” You nod your head in that direction.

Choso purses his head and nods, “Yeah. I was wondering about that.”

“Great.” Your voice is monotone. Because this just confirms you’re not the only person who sees them together constantly - that it’s not just you being high maintenance or a pain in the ass. It is a real problem, and one Satoru refuses to acknowledge.

“Why don’t we,” Choso starts, eyes flickering between yours for a moment before pointing off to the side, “take some shots?”

Your eyes trail to where he’s pointing - a small group of people around a small table, just big enough for someone to lay on and take a body shot. A smile spreads across your face with amusement for two reasons: Shoko is currently taking a shot glass out of Utahime’s mouth and tipping it back and because you’re feeling a little petty tonight.

Maybe it’s the alcohol you’ve already consumed, your inhibitions are lowered but you don’t care. If Satoru gets to have someone other than you hanging with him all the time, going on family outings during the holidays and hanging on him twenty-four seven - then why can’t you do the same?

Choso’s questioning stare is innocent, so there’s a chance he won’t be up for this - there’s a part of you that wonders if he meant just regular shots, and not specifically body shots. You get your answer however, when you agree and a wide smile spreads across his face.

While you walk to the table and lay back on it once Utahime has gotten up, Choso busies himself with getting salt, a lime and a shot of tequila.

Shoko is off to the side, staring daggers at you before asking, “What the hell are you doing?”

You smile and shrug, “Playing his game. I’m tired of being the one that gets hurt all the time.”

“This is a really stupid fucking idea,” Utahime chimes in to your surprise. It’s not often she adds her two cents on your relationship - normally she just adds how stupid she thinks Satoru is.

Choosing not to answer, you lay back and turn to face Satoru. He’s not paying attention, however Mei is, you glare, lick your lips and lift your shirt just enough to expose your navel.

“Ready?” Choso asks and you nod, but he keeps a hold of the tequila shot, rather than putting it in your mouth.

Small grains of salt hit just below your belly button and then the feel of a small metal ball and cool tongue trail up. The reaction your body gives is normal; stomach clenching, breath hitching and thighs closing ever so slightly - like a reminder of all the times Satoru has done the same to you.

Looking down at Choso was a mistake - he has a mischievous smirk spread across his lips and heat in his eyes. And rather than take the shot in his hand, he presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widened in shock, because this was not part of the plan - it was supposed to just be a normal body shot, just something to make Satoru a little jealous and hopefully realize how he’s been treating you.

Panicked, you sit up and fix your shirt - Choso winks, placing the glass to his lips just as a fist connects with his jaw in a deafening crack. Satoru is seething, nostrils flared as he grabs a fist full of Choso’s shirt and pulls him in for another punch to the face.

Choso isn’t caught off guard this time, landing his own blow on Satoru’s cheek, and then his ribs.

“Stop!” You scream hysterically, covering your mouth with your hand, because this was not the mess you wanted to cause - this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Before you can take a step forward, a large hand grips your shoulder. Suguru is next to you, shaking his head before stepping in to separate the guys. Panicked, you look at Shoko who has a look of disappointment written on her face, Utahime is shaking her head, watching as Suguru stands between the two.

Satoru runs a hand down his face, Choso wipes his lip with the back of his hand as Suguru says something to them - when he’s done, Satoru stalks out of the room and up the stairs without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Why,” it’s a small noise that leaves your lips, not loud enough for anyone to hear other than yourself. Looking at Choso with upturned brows, you shake your head slightly. If you had known he planned on kissing you, there’s no way you would have agreed to do this.

He must have seen you mouth the word because Choso walks over to you, brows bunched together. “Because he treats you like shit. And you just let it happen time and time again.”

A scoff leaves your lips, “I love Satoru - you know what, I can’t deal with this right now.”

Onlookers move out of your way as you make your way to and up the steps to Satoru’s bedroom. The room is quiet, light off except the illumination of the lights peeking out from the partially closed bathroom door.

For the first time, probably ever, you knock on the door to make your presence known before poking your head inside. Satoru’s standing, head hanging between his shoulders, leaning on his palms on the cool countertop.

“Satoru,” a step forward with your hand outreached for him, wanting to check on the cuts on his lip, and the bruise blooming across his cheek, “I -”

“Stop.” He interjects, tone raspy, lifting his head to look in the mirror but not looking in your direction.

A sigh leaves your lips, because of course he doesn’t want to talk about this. He would rather let his emotions show physically - through sex or fighting - rather than sit and have a two minute conversation to talk things through.

“Okay…” You’re really not sure what to do in this situation, stay and potentially make it worse or leave him to cool off and come try and talk to him later. Opting for the latter, you take a step back - you really need to talk with Choso about what happened too, you just needed a second to take a step back and see Satoru. To make sure he didn’t need any bandages or some other medical care. With the exception of the few scrapes and bruises, he seems physically fine.

Turning and opening the door, a large hand reaches over your head and pushes the door fully closed.

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks, voice annoyed.

“To check on Choso.” It comes out quieter than you intend, which Satoru’s body heat radiating against your back, his hand still firmly pressed against the door, yours on the knob.

“Why? Kissing him wasn’t enough?”

Heat flares through your veins at the comment, because he’s acting like you asked for him to kiss you. And that was never the intention - you would never do anything like that, and he knows it - especially with your history.

He’s just trying to piss you off too.

Turning around, you snap at him, pointing a finger in his chest, “Maybe because my boyfriend went insane and beat the shit out of him,” he grins slightly at that comment, teeth pink from fading blood. “And because -”

Because you saw the way Choso looked at you when he suggested body shots. Knew it would piss Satoru off to no end. Because you were already questioning what Choso was wanting to do before you agreed. It was like you lost your mind in the moment, in all of the feelings and anger and hurt at everything that has happened, and continues to happen in this relationship.

“Because this is my fault.” Your voice is quiet, shoulders slumped, guilt written on your faces as tears well in your eyes.

Satoru’s arms are around you the moment the first tear drips from the corner of your eye, holding you close and rocking side to side gently.

“Don’t leave me,” He whispers into your hair and you’re sure he doesn’t mean physically, in this moment.

“I’m not - I won’t.” You say between sniffles, pulling back to look into his ocean blue eyes, showing his own uncertainty in this situation - a look you’re not used to from him. “Satoru, that was scary. It looked like you were trying to murder him.”

“I wanted to.”

Your brows pinch together at his admission, “You’re insane.”

“In a good way?” The teasing tone to his voice is starting to come back.

A small laugh leaves your lips, “How is there a good way to be insane?”

He thinks for a moment, pulling you back into his muscular chest before shrugging, “Dunno just, don’t go to him. Okay?”

Closing your eyes, you nod against him, taking in the warmth and safety you feel in his arms, hoping he’ll explain his reaction to that, “Why did you punch him?”

It takes several minutes of standing in silence, holding one another to realize he’s stopped swaying you back and forth, a motion you found comforting when he was doing it, and the odds of him answering are lower and lower with every passing second.

After another few minutes you pull away and sigh, wiping the smeared makeup under your eyes away.

“I don’t want him touching you,” Satoru says hurriedly when you open the bathroom door again, grabbing your free wrist, “Let alone kissing you.”

That’s not a real answer - just some fucked up possessiveness he feels he needs to display because another guy is clearly interested in you. Which is ironic considering he said the two of you could see other people before he agreed to try dating.

And clearly he forgets is attached to him at the hip anytime she’s around, but how dare anyone but Satoru do that with you. It’s a stupid double standard and one you’re tired of.

He lets your arm go when you shake your head slowly, which breaks your heart. Wishing he would fight for you right now, for your relationship - not physically fight, but actually listen to each other and work together to make things better.

Maybe it is time to call it quits. Having these feelings in your relationship continuously is not healthy and it’s taking a toll on you. At this point you’re not sure what’s worse - finding your boyfriend cheating on you with your own mother, or this cycle you found yourself in with Satoru.

There’s a deep stuttering sigh behind you, to your surprise, “Things haven’t been great between us recently,” he says quietly, clearly unsure how to say what’s on his mind, “And I - fuck -” he groans, running his hands up and down his fast several times, “I don’t know, okay, but I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

Your brows are raised as you turn to look at Satoru with surprise, not having anticipated getting any sort of answer. It’s not much, but it speaks volumes that he’s admitted your relationship isn’t in a good place right now - honestly you weren’t sure he was even aware of it. He never wants to talk about these things, he’d rather have sex and show you how he feels by the way he delicately spreads your legs, teasingly kisses up your thighs and makes love to you.

But it also hurts that the only time he says he loves you, with the exception of the first few times, is when you feel like you have to force it out of him, or when he’s buried deep in your cunt.

“Are we gonna make it?” You whisper back. And for the first time in your relationship, find yourself wondering when this relationship will meet its inevitable end.

But maybe there is hope. He’s admitted this - maybe it’ll just take more time for him to find the words and continue learning to open up.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, opening the restroom door and pulling you gently to his bed, laying down behind you and covering you both with a throw blanket before whispering back, “We’ll make it... Just don’t leave me.”

So you don’t.

@petalsrdead @sofiaconlaz @lovelylashawnalee @s-witch-bitch @watyousayin @desthevirgo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @musababy @sagejin @ritsatoru @faewithsnakes @erenputurchildreninsideme @lex-dear @hvziers @babybae-shisui @sugurunicorn @niki-sun @lilith412426 @sofiaconlaz @lxvephxbic @iam-mia9 @laylasbunbunny @creolequeen11210 @xiaosie @lem-hhn @yogurttea @slut-jr @crystxlline @ritsatoru @abba-simp @myabae @etherealkakashi @hyperfixationsporfavor @yihona-san06 @ambersea7 @knightoflove

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #violetsaffronfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #BD

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pepsiconcoction · 2 years ago

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Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee.

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it.

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him.

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey.

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego.

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes.

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?”

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink.

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost.

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.”

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?”

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time.

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'.

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes.

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order.

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again.

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour.

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this.

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him.

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day.

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart.

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink.

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite.

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness.

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?”

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling.

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively.

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids smut #han jisung #jisung #skz fluff #skz smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung smut #han jisung imagines #skz drabbles #skz fanfic #stray kids hard thoughts

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theblueflower05 · 1 year ago

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Yawnyewla(Broken Heartedness) | Part Two

A/N: It has been a crazy month or so, real life has brutalized me. Sorry you guys are getting this chapter later than planned Avatar + the Omegaverse has been my comfort lately. @cinetrix you have been especially supportive and I lova ya bby. Thank you for making me some Mega Neteyam to keep my writing brain on! The art below is made by her and omg right?

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Alien sex. Alien Genitalia. Oral sex(female and male receiving), Fingering(female and male receiving) Cursing. Angst(it’s me, duh) and mild talks about past grooming. Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics.

Summary: You’re the Metkayinan Olo’eykete in training, but sometimes even you buckle under the crippling pressure. Will Neteyam be there to comfort you?

Omega Neteyam x Female Alpha Reader

Series Masterlist

<Part One

Part Three>

You only ever touch me in the dark,

Only when we’re drinking can you see my spark.

And only in the evening would you give yourself to me,

Cause the night is your woman and she’ll set you free

-Lies, Marina and the Diamonds

Your life had always been ruled by carefully crafted routine. Early mornings as the sun rose on the glittering sea, and late nights after most were tucked away.

Being the eldest daughter in any family came with its own list of responsibilities. But for you, the eldest of the reigning Olo’eyktan and Tsahik who also happened to be an Alpha, it seemed like you had been born with duty running through your bloodstream. Burdened with glorious purpose.

It had been clear from an early age just what was expected of you. A life, lived for your people, was your destiny.

And at most times that was okay.

You were happy to serve, it was in your nature to care for others. Good Alpha’s, your mother had taught you, are not ruled by ego. Or violence. Strength comes from within, is a honed skill like fishing or net weaving. Strength is taking care of your family. Helping the elderly and the young. Making sure everyone has a full belly before they lie their head down for bed.

You we're a good Alpha, or at least you tried to be. You knew you could be if you tried. If you could just be calm for long enough to focus.

Ronal liked to say that you were more like the ocean than anyone she had ever met. She had birthed the sea incarnate- with its strong crashing, never faulting, waves. It’s vastness. It’s life-giving vitality.

And its wild nature.

There was something unsettled about you. Deep down, you would never be still. There was a need to learn. Explore. To fight and scream and run. An untamed side of you that Ronal and Tonowari had watched with equal parts amusement and hesitancy during your childhood.

From a young age you’d jumped from the highest cliffs. Sailed out past the reef. Engaged in fights with warriors twice your size, Limping away from tussles with a crimson tinged grin and your big blue eyes sparkling.

The older you get, the more you try to temper it. You desperately attempt to shove it somewhere hidden and out of sight. You can't be what anyone wants you to be with all of this restlessness inside of you. You can't support your father's throne or keep your people healthy-

There’s no room for it. For you, at your core. In your soul.

No one wants a wild woman.

You’d heard it before, it had left a bitter taste in your mouth and a stain on your heart.

In your younger years you were a bit of a trouble maker, but you’d like to think you'd reformed. If only a little bit. It’s not like you truly had the time to get into messes anyway.

Especially not at this time of year.

Though it’s sacred, a time for joy and festivity, it’s exhausting. To say the least. With the Iknimaya ceremony and The Return of the Tulkun looming in the very near future, the village of Awa’atlu was a buzz.

There’s preparations to be made. And endless list of duties to fulfill-

And yet, this migration cycle, you lag.

Usually, you run around like an austrapede(chichen like creature) with its head cut off. Heading to your parents every word. Not getting a moment to truly breathe, your sole focus on making sure that the ceremonies went smoothly-

Something else entirely has your attention. A certain golden eyed man that had bewitched you completely.

You thought you had known infatuation before Neteyeam.

You've certainly had crushes before.

There had been others who caught your eye, definitely.

But this? You’d never felt anything close to this. You think about him when you awake in the morning and before you fall asleep. When you’re not with him, you're aching for the moment that you can find time to slip away and get your hands back on his hard, muscle corded body. Your mind constantly assaults you with images of him. His broad shoulders and long braids. His mouth, swollen and puffy. His deep moans as you bring him over the edge-

“Look at you” Your good friend, Akime, grunts through a laugh. Breaking you from your reverie.

You’d been sat with a group, working on repairing weapons for the Great Hunt that would ensue after the Iknimaya trials.

But Neteyam had walked by with his father.

Doing something mundane, toting heavy woven baskets to the big main Mauri for dinner. His arm muscles bulging in a way that had you greedily tracing his form. He’d only given you a small nod in acknowledgement as he passed. An even smaller smile.

“Shut your mouth-and focus on your whittling. I pity the poor soul who ends up with that lopsided spear” you retort with a roll of your eyes.

You're not embarrassed about being caught ogling. You knew you weren't the only one. The Omiticayan transplant was one of the most gorgeous Omega’s that had ever stepped foot on the islands. Everyone was a bit dazed.

“He’s very pretty, I'll give you that. But he’s so stand offish- I could never see you with a mate like that, yawne(beloved)” Akemi was your closest confidant outside of your family.

A Beta who stood much taller than you and had the brawn of two men but was the kindest Na’vi you’d ever met. A gentle giant so to speak. He wore his dark hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck most days and black ink tattoo’s swirled around most of his body. A decorated warrior and hunter with the tattoos to prove it.

Everyone had assumed the two of you would mate, until he met his husband. Another Beta Male from one of the smaller islands. The two had all but raised Akemi’s cousin, Roxto, after the abrupt and tragic passing of the younger boy's parents.

“He’s really not,” you sigh, shaking your head as you sharpen the blades.

“Oh? I don't think I've ever heard him speak more than a few words at a time. And he always has that look on his face- like he swallowed a Wonwon fruit(lemon like fruit)”

Neteyam has many skills, you’d learned as you’d spent endless hours training him. Being a social butterfly is surely not one of them. He clams up around big groups, gets nervous and awkward. You find it endearing, even though you know the Omega is really hard on himself for it. He’s actually really funny and easy to talk to when you get to know him.

“He’s shy, be nice” you chide your friend easily. “There is nothing wrong with him not wanting to gab all day with any and everyone”

“Hah! I guess your loud skxawng ass can talk for the both of you. You never shut up” Akemi dodges the small shell you throw at him “But really, he’s so different then what you usually go for-” Akemi goes on and if it was anyone else you’d shove them off. Tell them to mind their own business.

Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted to keep what the two of you had under wraps, at least for now. And even though that wasn't what you particularly wanted, you respected his wishes.

“And what is it I usually go for, pray tell?” your brow bone rises, confrontational and curious.

“People just as annoying as you” Akemi dead pans and you can’t help but snort “You like Na’vi who challenge you. Who are just as bold and loud and daring. Is he not too…soft for you, my friend?”

In the past you had been attracted to men and women who matched the spark in you. And it had always ended in misery. In yelling and fighting and you questioning if you're meant to be alone because in partnerships you seem to always chase away the other.

But with Neteyam it’s different. He isn't a challenge, he doesn't want to knock you down a peg or make you change…he only wants to be your equal.

“Just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he’s soft” you defend the Omega like he’s your own, because that’s all you want. You want to wear his bite “He’s actually the fiercest warrior I’ve ever trained. His skillset is unmatched. I mean, I can keep up with him. But just barely”

Akemi chews this over. Continuing to carve at the spear in his hands “It sounds like he’s impressed you” and that's not an easy feat. You both know. “I'm excited to see his performance for the Iknimaya”

You are too. You can't wait to watch Neteyam shine.

The ocean had not been his chosen terrain, but oh. How beautiful it had been to watch him master it. He rode Tsurak like he had been doing so for years. Uses the crossbow like it had been made just for him.

You liked your partner's competent, and Neteyam checked every. Single. Box.

“If he has you caught in his net, why don't you announce your courtship?” Akemi questions because he knows he can. That he’s your best friend and that you and those walls and that strong strong heart can be open with him.

You hesitate. Chew on your lip for a moment.

“He’s not ready for anyone to know yet” the words are hard. You get it. Neteyam’s not a fledged “adult” member of the Metkayina yet. But many court before their rites, before mating.

“Y/N…”Akemi sighs and it makes your hackles rise.

“It’s fine. It makes sense. He’ll come around after his Iknimaya- that’s the only reason why” you insist to your friend. To yourself.

Akemi purses his lips before he speaks. Choosing his words wisely “I hope that is the case, I truly do. But…you’re my closest friend. I only want your happiness, and investing your feelings into someone who doesn't reciprocate isn't the smartest move, yawne. I just don't want to see you fall into any old patterns”

He doesn't want to watch you pledge your love to another man who's going to stomp all over your feelings. It’d been devastating to bare witness to last time.

You don't like to speak of it. Try not to even think of it. But it doesn’t take from the fact that it had happened.

“I will be fine” You insist, a smile plastered on your face, fake as can be “I’d like to think i’m not that stupid anymore”

Akemi’s nostrils flare “You we’re never stupid, you were young. And vulnerable. You know that right-”

“Please” you interrupt him, head shaking firmly “I don't want to get into this now” or ever.

Most people know not to push you.

That you’d fight back tooth and nail when you feel threatened- but much like your family. Akemi isn't scared of your claws and slick mouth. He’s very much going to push the issue- but is interrupted before he can.

It’s Ao’nung and Roxto, coming down the beach.

Rough housing, tails bumping each other. Even if he hadn't been Akemi’s kin, Roxto would be your favorite of your little brothers friends. He kept Ao’nung in check.

“Y/N!” your brother calls as he approaches- “Sempul wanted you. Says he needs you to help with the Mauri renovations or something.”

He plops down beside you, all the way in your personal space, and you give him a look. Overgrown man-child. Whatever was he going to do when mother had the new baby and he wasn't the youngest anymore?

Roxto stays standing, greeting you politely like the good boy he was. Akemi had done wonders raising him. He turns to his cousin and speaks about plans for dinner for their grandmother.

“When?” you question. You really had hoped you’d be left out of that project, you weren't much of an architect and painting and plastering all day was b o r i n g beyond compare.

“This afternoon” Ao’nung continues.

“But I’m training Neteyam later” you push, your stomach dropping at the thought of not getting to spend your usual time with the Omega. It seems like these days the trainings were few and far between- and after his Iknimaya, he wouldn't need them at all.

“Not today. Tsireya’s gonna have all of ‘em, free diving practice I think” Ao’nung continues, as he reaches for your canteen. Taking big sloppy drink.

“But-”

“Fathers orders, not mine” Ao’ shrugs and you know that he’d had no part in the decision making. Was only an unfortunate messenger.

Still. You snatch your leather canteen with a hiss, standing up. “That's mine, you little freeloader. I hope you’re going to be helping Tsireya with her lessons, your still on thin ice from the Lo’ak incident”

“I am going to help!”

“Good, you better be nice to them” you warn as you gather your belongings and prepare for an afternoon of helping out with Mauris instead of with your sweet Neteyam. Your mood soured greatly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been nice lately, have I not? Roxto, haven't I been nice?” Aonung turns to his friend who does nod.

“As nice as Aonung can be, yeah” Roxto agrees and Neteyam punches his shoulder playfully, insisting that he had been a damn saint.

“Uhuh. Keep it up. Tsireya will tell me if you so much as whisper one sideways remark. You boys have a good rest of your afternoon” You give Ao’nung a pointed stare, ruffle Roxto’s hair, and pat at Akemi’s shoulder as you depart.

“We’ll continue our conversation later, Y/N!” Akemi warns, your back already turned.

You just wave at him without turning back- happy to have escaped the trauma laden conversation.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You end up crawling into your bed that night, dead tired. You don't even burrow under your bed mat- instead you lie atop the covers. You have splinters under your nails from the hay like palm that was used to construct the pods. The afternoon had been long and boring, just as you’d known it would be.

But the worst part is that you hadn't gotten the chance to see Neteyam. To taste his saccharine kisses. As you stare at your beamed ceiling you think of only him.

When you fall asleep his face is behind your eyelids.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After days and days of activity that had seemed to keep the two of you apart, you’re ready to snap. Antsy and eager and needy for just a moment of Neteyam’s time.

The Omega doesn’t seek you out- he just gives you those tiny little smiles and private glances across the fires during communal dinner. It drives you mad, your fingers itch to run through his hair. Your lips want to rerun that familiar path down his chest-

You know he has to miss you as much as you miss him…right?

You don't allow those seeds of doubt to plant. Instead, your brain, desperate for the chemical rush that came with being around Neteyam, begins to plot on how you’d get to see him next.

As you go through the motions of your day, there’s only one thing on your mind and that is the fact that you need to see the Omega.

You have to ask around to figure out where the eldest Sully sibling is- he’s helping out in the orchards. His expertise tree climbing skills of great use.

Hidden in the shadows of the tropical trees, you wait. Lurking like a predator. You feel like a puluakan stalking her prey as you watch Neteyam from a far. He’s helpful and polite, his usual quiet self as he works with the other Metkayina to harvest the ripe fruits and vegetables.

While everyone else starts to head back- he stays. Neteyam insists that can get the ones from the tallest trees on his own. He’s happy to be useful.

Perfect.

You’re a hunter, tried and true. The only place in life where you could hone in on your thin patience, be quiet. Take your time. You move quick and silent, closer to your target. Your heart flutters fast, visibly beating in your throat and your kuru tingling with excitement.

When he’s nearly within arm's reach, right there, you’re prepared to pounce-

-Of course, he pounces first.

A brutal flash of clashing blue as the two of you collide.

It takes all of your strength, years of training, but somehow it ends up with him pinned to the thick base of the Yovo tree. Panting and staring down at you with wide tawny eyes. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.

“Hi” Though you’re a little breathless from the scuffle, you grin.

One of your hands on his shoulder, fingers digging into the hard muscle there. The other pressed against his waist. So close to him that you can feel his body heat.

“Hi” he’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him for too long. Of course, what most don't know about Neteyam- is that he’s a smart ass “You suck at stalking. I could hear you coming the moment you stepped out of the bush”

“No I don't” You cajole, a bubble of laughter building in your fast expanding chest “We’ve barely spoken in a week, and the first thing you do is be mean to me? It’s almost as if you didn't miss me at all”

“How are you gonna know to correct your form if I don't tell you?” He jests, struggling a little in your grip for good measure.

You give him a warning hiss.

This little game the two of you liked to play was usually fun, the push and pull of it all. A teasing filled hunter and prey routine that more often than not ended with Neteyam spreading his thighs as he finally let you have him.

You hadn't kissed your boy in days. You didn't have it in you to wait.

“I was hoping you’d want to tell me something other than how shit you think I am at hunting” you sigh, deep, for dramatic effect.

“What kind of other things?” Neteyam’s eyes keep flickering from your own, down to your mouth. His pink tongue peeks out, runs across the plush of his bottom lip and your knees feel a little weak.

“Things like you’ve missed me” you disclose, because you just can't help it. “Cause I’ve missed you”

You can feel him loosen under your hands, the fight draining. His ears twitch, lowering a bit, and his gaze goes unbearably tender.

“I’ve missed you” he confirms after a moment and it's all you need to hear.

You lunge, groaning the moment you're able to feel his kiss. It’s warm and wet. Full of little nips licks that drive you wild because they feel way too good. An all consuming kind of good- you feel him in your bones. When you release him, your grip on his shoulder falters, his arms wrap around you strong and tight.

You pull away, lips tingling and shiny “How much did you miss me?”

He groans and presses his lips back to yours, annoyed as you keep the kiss shallow. Pecks and light presses while he tries to force his tongue into your mouth. You herd even closer, caging him against the bark. His snuffles, cool air through his snout in annoyance “Y/N, come on”

Instead of responding, your hands begin to drift, fingers dragging across his indigo skin as they take their feel. Oh, this body. How you adored it. His strong shoulders and broad torso, all of that rippling muscle so sensitive and clenching under your touch. Your lips leave his, kissing sloppily across his cheek and down the hinge of his jaw. Stopping only when you can press your face into the place on his neck, right behind his ear, where his scent gland was pumping out that hypnotic musk.

Neteyam’s pheromones are like nothing you’ve ever encountered. They’re knock you on your ass strong, for one. You’d been able to smell him from across the beach the first time you’d met him-back when the Sully’s had descended from the sky. For two they’re foreign and unlike anything you’d previously encountered.

He smells of pine, herby and sharp. Of honeyed tree sap. Of fruit you’ve never learned the name of and the dew that stuck to the foliage in the mornings. It tingles in your nose as you inhale deeply, getting greedy lungfuls of his essence. Very much the scent of a virile young Omega in his prime.

Neteyam gets all shivery when you scent him like this. His head lulls to the side as he presents his entire smooth neck to you like a fucking prize.

It’s heady, the way he gives himself to you. How are you not supposed to be in love with him?

“Missed you so much” he whimpers as you lap at the gland “You’ve been so busy. I- ah, oh-” his speech is broken up. Overwhelmed by your mouth assaulting him and your dainty hand attempting to slip under his tweng “I didn't want to bother you”

You don't pull away when you speak, can't manage to tear your mouth from its ministrations. Instead, your words vibrate right into his skin “Please bother me, paskalin(sweet berry). Bother me all the time”

His laughter is as sweet as his scent, and you want to bathe in it.

Neteyam is an indulgence and you're gluttonous for him.

Screw your duties, whatever was waiting for you back at the village could do just that. Wait. It’s a bit scary how quickly you’re willing to put everything on the back burner if it meant you could spend just one sun drenched afternoon with him.

He looks good, in the shade of the palms. His eyes closed and cheeks flushed as the two of you ravage each other. Your hips knocking into one and other as you desperately rub against him through the layers of your clothing.

You’re completely wrapped up in him. You don't realize how much time you’ve spent just kissing him. You know that you’re needed for just about a billion different things but as you taste his spit you can't remember to care.

When you begin tugging at the cords of his tweng he sobers a bit, squirming. “What if someone sees, the gathering group might return”

“Fuck them” you mindlessly mutter, working at the blasted knots. You want his cock. You need to taste him on your tongue.

Neteyam huffs in amusement, reaching down to undo them for you. He always makes it look so easy with those long nimble fingers.

When he’s freed from his confines, your quick hands are all over him. Pawing at his bare inner thighs, groaning when your fingertips run along his dripping slit. You can already feel his manhood, rock hard, and poking out from the protective sheath of his body.

Neteyam is gorgeous and so, so sensitive. He’s throwing his head back, braids grinding against the bark as you play with him. Getting him all wet and messy between his strong thighs.

“Oh shit- shit, Y/N” he wheezes as you grasp his member in your hand, stroking him until he’s standing proud and fully erect.

Neteyam’s very much well endowed. He’s got girth yes, but Eywa he’s long. You wonder what it would be like to take him inside of you. You’re so sure that he would hit places that no other had before. You clench around nothing, can feel your knot internally swell, just dying to contract around him and milk him dry.

You can't, sadly. Not yet. Or you’d lay him down and sit right on his cock this very moment.

Instead you give him everything else. He’s moaning low in his throat as he squirms, and his hands disappear in your hair. Your eyes fight the urge to roll when his fingernails skritch at your scalp just right.

You're sinking then, down onto your knees. You want to taste him and your eager mouth envelopes his mushroom cock head at once. His earthy sweet taste explodes across your tastebuds and you don't know who moans louder, you or Neteyam.

You enjoy giving oral pleasure, you always had. It makes you feel powerful. You control Neteyam as you suckle on his manhood. When your hands come to play, inching down towards his hole he grunts and bucks hard. Your throat constricts around him with a gag.

Its so sexy. The way he chases his release makes you burn.

His virgin hole is tight, the muscles tense as you circle it with your fingers. The sounds Neteyam gurgles above you make it clear that he doesn't want you to stop. It’s a beyond snug fit as you push a single digit in.

The darker man practically sings. His abdominals clench and you’re pretty sure he’s about to blow-

When suddenly his hands fisting your locks go from holding you close, to pushing you away. You’re only haughtily confused for a moment.

The two of you freeze.

Sensitive ears twitching as the sound of crunching footsteps in the distance.

The orchard is large and full of fruit trees and bushes, making an escape without getting caught is easy enough. You slip behind an enormous berry bush, hidden easily by the thorned shrubbery. You’re vibrating with the thrill though, as you and Neteyam avoid being spotted. Just barely.

You don't think you would have minded if anyone would have caught you on your knees pleasuring your beautiful Omega.

Neteyam on the other hand doesn't look as happy as you. He actually seems kind of spooked. Crouching low and alert as the voices hum in the distance he re-ties his tweng with shaky hands. He doesn't relax until they pass and even then his shoulders stay tense.

“It’s okay, I never get caught, don't worry” You press a comforting hand to his side, and he sighs. Leaning into your touch despite himself.

You can tell the moment of passion is over and you hate it, although it probably is for the best.

“I have to go” you’re mournful of the fact” I’m sure they’re looking for me, back at the village”

His face falls, a little frown that’s cuter than it should be marring his features “Okay…”

You cup his cheek on your palm, making him look at you “We’ll get to be together soon, yes? I’m going out of my mind, I need make you come again”

Neteyam bites the inside of his lip hard “Soon” he agrees.

It takes everything for you to leave him in the orchard and not drag him straight to your bed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There are more moments like these as the weeks go on.

Stolen flashes of intimacy.

The two of you sneaking in kisses and groping touches wherever you can. It's always white hot, and over way too soon and somehow you feel even more desperate and strung out after them. Like you’re only getting a taste of what you so desperately want to savor.

You think you’re handling it pretty well. Hiding your split attention-

It all comes to a head at dinner.

The Inknimaya celebrations are only days away and the largest Mauri, the communal one right in the center of the village is packed to the brim with buzzing Na’vi.

You’re sat with your family and a group of high standing village leaders at the head of the meal. Tsireya on one side of you and your very pregnant mother on the other. Your Father sits, right in the middle, and Ao’nung to his side.

There is discussion of the rites and who will be present to officiate them and witness them.

You’re barely listening, so exhausted it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You could blame it on your busy day but really, it's because you and Neteyam had spent last night tangled in each other until the early hours of the morning eclipse.

You meet his gaze from across the crowded room.

Neteyam looks as tired as you feel. And still, he grins. A barely there thing just for you. When his hands move it’s subtle movements while no ones paying attention.

He signs, just the way you’d taught him. Only one word.

Tonight.

“Y/N- are you listening?” It’s your mothers voice, firm and cutting and breaking you from your own head.

“Of course” its an automatic lie as you pick at a piece of fish from your plate. You hadnt heard a thing she’d said.

She gives you THE look. A severe one that could make children cry. Good thing you aren't a child anymore.

You try not to feel too embarrassed by her obvious chiding as you rejoin the conversation.

“We were speaking about the First Hunt- there’s been many Nomura(giant man o war style jellyfish) just beyond the reef. Y/N, what is your stance on this matter?” An elder says, voice weary and weathered.

“This is not out of the norm for this time of year. All will be fine, we can set up a perimeter around the young hunters performing their rites” you nod, affirming him while not feeding into the hysteria. Elder Makiao was an anxious man after all.

“Are we sure that’s smart?” The cutting comment is made by the person you like the least.

Vaeyu is an Alpha and vetted warrior from a good family. He has high standing in the clan, and sits on your fathers council. Tall and broad, with dark ink splashed across his angular face and his meaty right arm almost blacked out with intricate tiny tribal markings.

He’s always got something to say and you sincerely wish that you could tell him to shut the fuck up.

Politics don't work that way, unfortunately. “Why would it not be smart? It is tradition, we will perform the rites as we always have, will we not?”

He nods, mulling it over, his lips pursed “Of course I would like to see them performed as they should be but we have…different members attempting this cycle. I would hate for any of our new Omiticayan friends to be put at even more of a disadvantage then they already are”

A surge of protective anger rages through you- years ago you might have lunged at him. But you’ve learned better, about controlling your own feelings. And about dealing with scum like Vaeyu.

You try to keep the appearance that you’re unaffected, for you know it will only fuel him if he can tell that he’s bothering you “I’m assuming you’re talking about Neteyam?” and you want to kill him for doing so.

“The eldest of the Forest children, yes” He goes on and really. The disrespect is dripping from his tone like venom. The fact that he hadn't even had the decency to refer to Neteyam by his name makes

“Neteyam is not a child” you speak slowly and control your tone. Not allowing your pheromones to spike with your annoyance “He’d already passed his rites back home, and is only repeating the process here out of respect”

Your father, ever observant, can see right through your attempt on staying civil and cuts through the tension with his deep timbre “She is right, he has shown nothing but competence since arriving. And from what I have seen, has excelled in training. I trust my daughter's abilities as a karyu. The boy will be given his chance as all others are”

Tonowari is cheif; he’d always given his people the freedom to question him. The openness to have meaningful conversation.

But everyone knew that directly challenging him is off limits.

“Ah. I see” Vaeyu deducts, using his sharp bladed knife to peel the skin of a fruit “Of course, Olo’eyktan. I trust your judgment. We will just have to hope he can keep up; you know the smell of blood draws those nasty creatures in”

The talks stray onto different topics and you try to get over the bitter taste left in your mouth.

You never want Vaeyu to speak of Neteyam again. If it was up to you the older warrior wouldn't even be able to look in his direction. Neteyam was too good for the likes of him.x

You’re more than happy when the man gets up and makes his leave, retreating for the night with his pregnant mate. Once upon a time the sight of his hand on her lower back and her cradling her stomach would hurt you. Now you’re just relieved as you watch them leave.

Your sister gives you a sympathetic pat on the hand.

The dinner on your plate is picked at, you can barely eat with the excitement of seeing Neteyam again bubbling. Tonight is going to be special. You’re going to give him the necklace you’ve been working on. He liked to act bashful, but you knew he loved your gifts and this one was the most important yet.

You offer Ao’nung the rest of your food, not wanting to waste, and try to make your exit.

“You have been very far away as of late”

Of course it can never be that easy.

Your mother is Tsahik for a reason. She is all knowing, with her keen eye and sharp senses, the tribe likes to say she has special Eywa given powers and you believe it. You just absolutely hate when she uses them on you.

Of course she’d notice you being off, even when you we’re trying so hard to keep it hidden.

“I am not sure I know what you mean” you feign innocence “I have been tired, and very busy, yes”

“No” she continues in that tone of hers. Her eyes that are more green than blue boring into you “That is not it. You have been distracted, and if you do not wish to tell me I will not pry, but I need you to recenter”

“Sanok-” you start with a grumble.

“During the festivities, there will be Metkayina from neighboring islands coming in. I want you to think about what we’ve spoken of, about you finding a mate this cycle”

Your ears pin to your head and you can feel your face get hot. No, she’d spoken and when you’d try to insist that you are not going to go through with an arranged marriage she’d dismissed you.

“I am not interested-”

“In performing your duty? You will be Olo’eykte, you will pass the title down to your children. You need heirs, Y/N. By the time I was your age I was already pregnant with Tsireya” Ronal softens, she can tell how uncomfortable you are but this conversation is vital “I want to give you the space to choose. There will be many eligible Na’vi, all looking to court”

You’re tense all over. By the ways she’s speaking you’d think you were an old woman and not one who had just celebrated her twenty first name day.

“Tell me that you’ll at least think about it- Tonowari, please. Help me here. This is important is it not” Your mother plays dirty and calls your father in for backup.

There is not much on Eywa’Eveng that you could deny your father. You are dedicated to him. Closer to him than anyone else.

When he speaks its gentle and encouraging “We just want you to be happy. You are at the age where you should be starting your own family, I want to meet my grandchildren”

You feel trapped, impossibly so.

Mating had been the one thing that you’d refused to surrender to your chosen destiny. Being the next Olo’ekyte could have everything else but you so deeply wanted to find someone who loved you.

You want to tell them that you think you’ve already found a mate. You’re sure your mom wouldn't like it, wouldn't think Neteyam is suitable but your father would support you. You just know it.

It’s not the time.

Instead you just not tersly “I will consider it. Am I free to go?”

“My daughter…” Tonowari frowns, wanting to reach, but keeping his hands at his side anyway.

“Please. I am tired”

Your father just nods. You dont stay around to hear the worried words your family shares.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The moons are high in the dark, star speckled night sky as you lounge in soft grass. You’d never spent much time here, in the little island forest, before Neteyam and yet now it’s become your oasis.

The hidden spot where you could come and release everything. Your fear and doubts are harbored by the trees. They’re good secret keepers.

“You’re distracted tonight” Neteyam remarks as he meets you in the meadow. It always takes him a little longer to get there, he has to wait for his family to fall asleep before he takes his leave.

“Sorry”

You try to put on a brave face, but when he lies down next to you, both of you on your sides facing on another, and places a large, callused hand on your hip you melt.

He doesn't have to say much to make you soft for him, he’s spent months tenderizing your heart.

“Talk to me” Neteyam urges softly as his thumbs rub patterns into your hip bone. “What happened?”

You close your eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the comfort. “I’m just tired, Tey. I feel like- I can never really satisfy anyone, you know? And I try really hard to.”

He hums in understanding “I do know what that is like. Is this about your parents?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs. You, after all, are rarely ever silent.

“Back home I was going to be Olo’eyktan and while I accepted it, I was always kind of dreading it. Counting down the days until any semblance of my life being my own was over” you don't know it, but he’d never told anyone this. You listen raptly “The responsibility of making sure everyones taken care of, its alot”

You smile, because yeah. Alot is an understatement.

“I’m just letting you know that I know how it feels. Truly. And whenever you need to; we can talk about it, one eldest sibling to another” Neteyam’s kind words go straight to your head. They make you feel dizzy, so cared for and adored.

He’s what you’ve always wanted. All of your fantasies and desires rolled into one. You’re convinced that Eywa had brought him to you. Carried him to you by ikran back on the strong east wind.

You want to mate with him. More than anything, you want to bond him. Would it scare him off if you told him so? You don't want to lose what hasn't even had it’s chance to fully develop.

“I made you something” Your words seem to shock him, if only for a minute, and he groans and rolls his eyes.

“Another gift? Really, Y/N?”

“Don't pretend you don't love them” you tease as you reach for the small satchel you’d brought with you. You grab at its contents and hold it tight in your hand. You’re nervous, terribly so, as you present the jewelry to Neteyam.

This isn't like the spear, or the blanket or the fruit. For Metkayina, this is serious business.

“Oh” he says as you hand over the necklace that you’d spend countless hours working on. “It’s is gorgeous, wow”

He takes it from you and marvles at the care you’d put into it. The necklace is made of leather, and adorned with pieces of carefully polished dark blue seashells. In the center dangles a single pearl, black as night and rare. You’d shucked an endless amount of clams to find one that felt right.

“Do you accept it?” you question as his eyes trace the piece of jewelry.

“Well, I have not rejected any of your gifts yet” Neteyam jokes dryly “I’m not about to start now.”

He doesn't know then. That if he accepts it then he will be accepting your hand. That he will be agreeing to be your mate. In Metkayina tradition, he’d give you a necklace back, one that would sit right where his bite would on your delicate neck.

He requests that you help him put it on but you decline.

This isn't something to adorn tonight, if he still wanted to wear it in the cold light of day you’d be happy to help him fasten it. Once he puts it on, he can never take it off. You’re sure he isn't aware of the fact and you wont trick him- but also don't have the energy to tell him in that very moment.

“Well I can't wear it because your being weird” Neteyam starts, brows knitted “But I still wanna thank you for it”

“Thank me, huh?” you smile as you reach to pet at his braids. Sweet, sweet man.

“Mhmm” Is all Neteyam says as his hand travels from its place on your hip, down, To play with the hem of your pink skirt. It's very clear what he wants, so you roll over onto your back and spread your legs, making it easier for him to get it.

He works you out of your coverings with ease.

Your needy pussy is sticky- strings of wetness stretch between it and your tweng as Neteyam peels it off. He groans at the heady sight. His nostrils flare and his mouth waters.

“You talk so much about how good I taste” Neteyam grumbles into your skin as he presses deep kisses into the skin of your belly, sinking ever lower. Over your naval. He traces the pretty swirling ink of your tattoos, the ones that cradle your hips and lead him right where he wants most.

He mouths at that tender crease between thigh and labia “But your cunt is Eywa sent, I swear. So sweet”

You're panting, chest concaving intensely as his face disappears between your thick thighs. You feel no shame at him staring at where you’re drenched and throbbing for him. If anything you spread wider, showing him the pretty blushing insides of your light blue gash.

Neteyam dives in, nose first. His snout rubbing at your lips, inhaling your essence eagerly. You can't help but smile, happy that he loves the way you smell. That it’s reciprocated. Two of you so compatible.

When his wide tongue laps over your puffy slit, catching on your swollen nub you cry out. Your hands fly to the back of Neteyam’s head, holding onto the braids for support. Tugging ever so slightly, just on the right side of painful. You hump at his face, shoving him closer.

Neteyam’s a messy pussy eater, he dedicates his whole being to getting you off. He uses his entire face; his mouth but also his nose and his chin and cheeks. Soon enough hes completely messy, covered in your slick as he sloppily feasts on you.

“Oh, Great Mother!” you wail when he sits up a bit, hooking your thighs over his broad shoulders, before digging back in. He’s everywhere, there's not one part of your sensitive core that he’s not licked against. “Neteyam!”

When you come for the first time, it's with a violent arch of your back and a squeal. The pleasure makes you seize and shake as it washes over you in a tidal wave. Neteyam rides it out, his mouth following your arching pussy- drawing your orgasm out beautifully.

As you start to come back down, his chin is pillowed on your inner thigh and he's looking up at you with pleased amber eyes. So shy and proud of himself for being able to get you off. His face is sticky and gleaming with your cum. You never want to forget this image of him, you want to engrave this memory somewhere deep and timeless. You think that you will need to visit the Spirit Tree soon.

“Felt good?” he verifies and you grin, nodding, still coming down.

“So good, I love it when you tongue fuck me” you sigh, still spread out for him. Your pussy aches- from over sensitivity. From the need to be touched again.

Neteyam just blushes a little at your vulgar words, sometimes you forget that he’s still very new to all of this. Each time you guys are intimate, he explores a bit more of his sexuality.

He holds your gaze as his fingers begin to toy with your folds. There’s something so erotic about it all, the way that the two of you never break eye contact. Communicating silently as Neteyam rubs at your hard clit. Sharp jolts of pleasure make your hips twitch. But still, you try to be still. Encouraging his tentative touches. When his digit swirls around your hole for a moment before sinking deep your eyes roll until they close and your head presses back into the ground.

You’re meant to be filled, your body designed to squeeze around whatever enters it and not let go. It doesnt care if its a cock or fingers or tongue, your pussy is greedy.

Neteyam bites his bottom lip bloody as he watches your core hungrily eat his fingers. First one, and then two, and then before long he's pumping all there in and out of your wet snatch. A part of him wants to tuck his thumb against his palm and shove his entire fist inside-

He’s rock hard in his tweng, undulating against the ground as he watches your hips chase his hand.

“Knot my fingers” he begs over your pathetic sobs “Please, I wanna feel it.”

It’s too much.

His eager words paired with the constant perfect rhythm in which he’s pumping his digits in and out of you. It’s not hard to grant his request. You cry out as you come, again. This time, you don't stop your body from doing what it instinctually needs to. You reach down between your legs to grab his wrist, firmly pressing his hand to your pulsating pussy. If he wants to feel, you’ll let him. Your knot swells inside of you, impossibly tight, as it locks around Neteyams long fingers.

His wide eyes stare up at you in unfiltered awe as he feels you from the inside. It’s wondrous, like nothing he’s ever experienced. He feels very special in that moment, that he gets to share this with you. Very special and very fucking horny.

“Holy shit” is his clumsy, blunt response to it all. You giggle fondly and shake your head.

“Do you like it?” You inquire as you rhythmically pulse.

He groans and presses his head, his entire face into the safe plush flesh of your thigh “I do” he admits “I want to feel it around my dick so bad”

That starts a whole new round of neediness and the two of you go at it like animals under the bright moonlight, surrounded by fluorescent flora and fauna.

You’d sworn that you’d be smarter- wouldn't stay out as late so that you could go through the upcoming day a little less exhausted but by the time the two of you are done, the sky is painted pinks and purples and the morning eclipse is dawning.

You’re lying with your head pressed to his chest and your leg thrown across his both of his. You know you should get up but you don't want to make the long trek back to the village. You whine about the decided meeting spot as the two of you sit up, knowing that you need to get ready to return.

“Why do we have to go sneaking around in the bush? I do have my own Mauri, you know” you’d sassed him, as you look for your top in the grass.

“And what if someone catches me coming in and out of your place? Yeah, no. I don’t think that is a good idea”Neteyam had protested, flustered at even the thoughts . It would be so obvious.

A frown tugs at your lips at his words. “Would that be so bad?”

There's a pregnant pause before he speaks again “I mean…I thought we had agreed to keep this private. If people start seeing me sneaking in and out of your home at all odd hours it’s not going to be hard for them to put together what’s going on”

Your heart drops a bit at that, and you feel more naked than you had moments before. “What are you…ashamed of what we’re doing?”

“I’m not ashamed…I just don't want that label, Y/N” Neteyam sighs like you’re being unreasonable and it’s like ice water in your veins. “I don't want people to look at me differently because of this”

It's hard to speak around the lump in your throat “Because of what? Me courting you? Why would that cause anyone to feel differently about you?”

“It's just, it’s different for you. There are different expectations in place. You’ve done this before.-”

“As you love to remind me” the laugh that escapes you is humorless as you locate your top and slip it back on. You already feel vulnerable, there's no need to psychically be so too. “ I’ve never once held it against you or made you feel bad about being a virgin, but you constantly throw the fact that I've been with other people in my face.”

“That’s not it-” Neteyam insists as you stand, he tries to reach for you but you side step in and grab your tweng instead. He looks so lost, like he’s trying to untie the knots in his head. You know that Neteyam has a hard time transmuting his thoughts into words and usually you’re patient with him but right now? Right now you’re too hurt to wait for him to find the words to insult you with. “I dont- I dont care if you’ve been with a ton of other people, It doesn't matter to me. That’s not why I feel uncomfortable with the village knowing”

“The mere fact that you’re so eager to call it a ton tells me that it does” you're wrapping the ties of your covering around your tail and ignoring your shaking hands as emotion bubbles up violently “I’ve only ever been intimate with three people, including yourself. Did you know that, Neteyam? I’m not the huge whore that you think me to be”

Neteyam looks down at the ground shamefully. He hasn't even reached for his own tweng yet. It’s like he’s stuck, his head going a mile a minute. Too fast for his body to catch up with.

“When I told you I wanted to court you I wasn't lying. I’m not sure what that means to you, or the people back in the forest, but here it means that I see you as a potential mate. I didn't realize that you’re too embarrassed of me to see me as the same” you’re going to start crying, you can feel it.

This moment had already happened to you, years before. You’d already been rejected by someone you thought wanted you- you never thought you’d allow yourself to happen again.

Eywa, how fucking stupid can you be?

The familiar feeling is devastating. You feel soiled and used.

“If you can just be reasonable- If we can-can talk. I don't know how to make you understand that this isn't all about you” Neteyam is stuttering, finally reaching for his own tweng but you’re checked out.

How does one be reasonable when their heart is breaking?

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m sorry that I misread this whole thing. My mistake.”

You’re off before he can get another word in, storming through the foliage as fast as your feet can take you. The tears that had been building only fall once you’re out of eye sight.

You can hear him calling for you, pleading for you to come back.

You leave him there, half naked in the woods.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Iknimaya ceremony comes all too fast.

The days since you and Neteyam’s fight in the forest had all been a blur. You were too busy to focus on your fractured feelings. No one had even truly known about the two of you, so it’s as if life moves on as though it had never even happened.

That might be what’s most painful about it all.

You have duties to fulfill, and you’d like to pretend like they keep you from focusing in on that pain. You help where you’re needed- and even where you’re not. It’s left you drained and bone tired, but distracted enough to maintain.

As you and your sister get ready for the long day, she notices how sluggish you are. Dragging yourself through the motions.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tsireya asks as she watches you dress.

“I’ve been busy as of late, Reya” You take care as you ready yourself. Donning traditional Metkayinan ceremonial drab- your blood-orange tweng is intricate and the shell headpiece you wear connects with your barely there top. You brush your long midnight hair until it’s glossy and bouncing, the ends of it reaching the base of your tail as it falls down your back in waves.

You’d always had a healthy dose of vanity.

You know that you are attractive, pretty. Shockingly so, as you’d been told. Blessed with thick eyelashes and feminine features. Your whole life,many have spoken about how favored an Omega, to which you’d never taken offense. You’d inherited your mothers looks, as had Tsireya. Small. Compact. Unexpectedly vicious.

You use your looks as a weapon, just as everything else, your little sister is well aware of the fact. She knows that you’re overcompensating with appearing attractive for the fact that something has happened.

“I’m worried about you. You can try to fool everyone else, but you’re not fooling me, sister. I know that somethings wrong” Tsireya is sweet, but firm. She’d always had that air around her.

Caring yet severe. She was all Alpha no matter what people might think about her docile temperament.

“It’s not like speaking about it would change anything” you mutter, if anything, it would bring the pain front and center.

“Don’t be a coward, Ma Y/N. You know better than anyone that the only way over something is through it” Tsireya’s blunt, but without an ounce of malice.

She knows how to handle you and knows that tough love is oftentimes better than coddling like comfort when it comes to you.

It works.

“Neteyam rejected my courtship”

“You lie” she accuses in a gasp, and you just glare at her. “But- he’s so interested in you”

“Obviously not” it’s flippant. You don’t even want to meet her eyes. You’d been under that impression too.

“Something is being lost in translation here, sister. Neteyam likes you. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I can feel it everytime the two of you are around each other” your sister insists and it’s like salt in the wound.

“Sometimes things aren’t what they seem. It’s not as though this is the first time I’ve been wrong about someone’s intentions for me” the words are hard to admit and taste like acid in your mouth.

“Neteyam couldn’t be any more different than Vaeyu. The two might as well be night and day- this situation can’t be the same” Tsireya insists and you bite your tongue.

“No they’re not the same. But their feelings, or lack there of, are”

Vaeyu had never been particularly kind to you but there had been a time when you naively believed that he truly cared about you.

Before your Iknimaya, which should’ve been the first warning sign, the older warrior had courted you.

He, like Neteyam, had wanted to keep it a secret.

Vaeyu took your virginity before telling you that as an Alpha himself, he would never mate with another Alpha.

You were too much for him. Not at all a suitable mate. He’d be embarrassed to be with you…

The scene that had played itself out just nights before in the forest with Neteyam had been all too familiar.

“Just once” you start, voice shaky as you focus on holding back all the hurt you've felt “I’d like to be wanted back. Truly. By someone who sees me as I see them”

“Oh, Y/N” Tsireya breathes as she grabs your hands and holds them tightly.

You don’t have the time to weep, but it feels nice, standing in your Mauri with your sister for that fleeting moment.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Metkayinan Iknimaya is a difficult and dangerous task to achieve.

The Akula hunt is fierce. An entire team of warriors working to bring down the wild beast. Many had died in their efforts. The massive sharks are armored with very few weak spots. They’re extremely difficult to kill.

Today would be no different. There would assuredly be some injuries- you give a brief prayer to the great mother for no casualties.

The to-be warriors line up on the shore and your mother, Tsahik Ronal, passes each. Chanting over them, and drawing a line across their face- from temple, over the bridge of their noses- to other temple, with white paint.

May the Great Mother take you into her arms. The Sea is your home before your birth, and if you should die, you will return to it in the afterlife.

You try to keep from staring at Neteyam, who’s tall and fierce and armed with the spear you’d given him.

The two of you only meet eyes briefly as he mounts his Tsurak. Right before he sets out. There’s so much unsaid and there’s no time to say it.

Instead you give him a firm nod.

You’d trained him. Had seen him in action. He could do this. You have full faith in him.

He only nods back.

The hunt makes you jittery, lights your blood on fire. You love this. Watching hunters draw first blood and make a clean kill. A primal part of you is dying to get in there. To join the fight.

It all happens in a rush- one minute the warriors are out on Tsurak back, headed for the deep. It’s harder to see where what’s going on as you stand with the crowd on the beach but you know from experience the energy filled pursuit that is going on right under the surface.

This year- it’s quick.

So much quicker than the years prior.

The crowd murmurs, almost confused, as the hunters return to the beach in record time.

They are no longer children.

Behind them, they haul the large carcass of a fully grown male Akula. Ropes secured around the body, netting and the waves helping transport with the sheer bulk of the creature. Sticking out of his left eye, perfectly launched, is the spear that you had crafted for Neteyam.

“Our hunters have returned, as fully blooded men and women of the Metkayina!”

Your father booms in pride, his warm cries whooping along the people as they join in. They’d made it back, all of them, with minimal damage. In record time. With one of the biggest catches you’d ever seen.

There’s hugs and tears. Everyone seems to be embracing one another. The pride is felt village wide and it’s a communal high.

“We will feast tonight!”Varyu cheers, and hoots follow “Tell me, who made the fatal blow? It is as clean a kill as I’ve ever seen”

You already know. You’d known since you’d seen the carvings on the wood- but the newly fledged Hunters push Neteyam forward and confirm it.

Vaeyu’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. It’s comical to say the least.

Neteyam is humble, as he always is. It was a team effort, he claims.

His family beams at him. Jake whooping and Neytiri’s misty eyed. Lo’ak is grinning from ear to ear and Kiri and Tuk clap and cheer for their brother.You remember Lo’ak telling you about how his older brother had been the youngest in their village to ever make a clean kill. You’d been impressed then.

Right now? Right now you are stunned. So proud that you can barely speak. All of those training sessions where Neteyam had doubted his ability to adapt had paid off.

He’s a warrior, as he’s meant to be. Neteyam has reclaimed his place in the world.

Your father goes to Neteyam and places his hands on his shoulders. Beaming. “You have done well and proved yourself amongst are people. I am proud to call you Metkayina”

You want to cry. You’ve never felt such emotion. You know how much this means to Neteyam and all you want to do is go over to him and embrace him.

“As the hunter who solidified the kill, you have first choice during Fertility Season. Tell me, son. Is there anyone who you want to lay claim to?” Your father speaks of the tradition. If the kill can be traced back to a single warrior- they earn the honor of having their pick of mates.

It’s ancient, dated, and most decline. You’re expecting Neteyam to do the same.

Instead, he focuses on you.

It doesn’t feel real. This must be a dream. The docile introverted Omega you’d gotten to know would never lay a claim on you, so boldly. In public. To your father much less.

And yet, he does.

“Ma Y/N” Neteyam calls to you clear and true. He’s chosen these words carefully; they don’t stick to the roof of his mouth “I am yours if you’ll still have me.”

Only then do you notice that the black pearl necklace that you had strung together for him hangs around his throat.

A clear symbol of his acceptance of your courtship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I’m so sorry to end it there on that cliffhanger but guyssssss. We all know she says yes. She’s down so bad for him lmfao

To my omegaverse besties @tru-blubelle @imperihoe @tiredmamaissy and Cinetrix thanks for all of the inspiration and support!

Omega Neteyam is my fucking religion now. I swear. I’m never getting over how perfect he is. Ughhhh. Sweetest bby boi who deserves the actual world. I love writing the juxtaposition of someone who is so incredibly physically attractive- and yet so socially awkward. He really doesn’t know how gorgeous he is. People expect him to be more suave because of his chiseled features and he’s really just an introverted guy who hates being the center of attention.

Okay so lots to talk about here! I introduced some OC’s! I feel like whenever I get to read about a Na’vi OC I’m like instantly in deep because it’s such an interesting culture and they’re such an interesting people!

I adore Akemi. He’s just an all around good guy who stepped up to the plate and took Roxto in when he had no one. Akemi’s husband is also a fun colorful character and I can’t wait to introduce him to you guys in the next chapter!

Vaeyu fucking sucks lmfao I wanted to write a smarmy Na’vi for the realism of it all. He’s everything bad about Alphas. He totally groomed the reader, if that wasn’t clear enough in the story. Tonowari would have him banished if he knew about it because he’s a protective dad and also a good man who hates creeps.

If you need a visual guide to how I picture Na’vi Male Omega’s genitalia you can find that here!

And if you have any questions about my A/B/O Head Cannons or the way that I’m structuring secondary gender in this story, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Neteyam goes into heat next chapter(I had to split this one into two because it was at 18K words long) so get ready for some wild ass smut😂

Please remember that interaction is key when it comes to fanfiction! I'd love to talk to you guys! Let’s escape to Pandora together!

My Taglist for this story is currently OPEN, but full disclosure that if I take the time to give you a tag, I am going to be expecting some sort of feedback.

@thehoneymushroomhealer @persy-the-nugget @tallulah477 @sakurayuki8655-blog @cumikering @adaiasafira @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @akkibear @a-blog-name-2023 @weasleytwinwheezes @siimiasoi @blueslxt-primary @haji-me-mashite @mightyneteyam @kiri-tuk

#neteyam smut #aged up neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #omega neteyam #omega neteyam x female alpha reader #minors do not interact

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tulipsforyourlips · 8 months ago

Text

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (4)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K

WARNINGS: none I can think of

PART 4✧˖°.

"So let me get this straight, ghosts cannot lie to you yet you work with two ghosts who apparently can," Matthew cawed from his place on your shoulder where you were huddled in one corner of the Dreaming library.

Earlier that day, Dream had intercepted your walk to the bakery nearby your apartment, almost giving you a jump scare, and then brought you back here with him once you'd pleaded to let your ghost friends know you were going out. Since it was a weekend and the agency remained closed, they didn't question you. Although Charles did tease you about a date. If only.

"Yep that pretty much sums it up. But it's not out of compulsion, it's that ghosts trust me, it's like they have no other option than to trust me. I don't know how it works seriously, just that it has helped a hell lot of ghosts successfully cross over and boom our business. And as far as Edwin and Charles are concerned, well my powers, if you could call it that, did happen after meeting the guys. So," you shrugged.

"Interesting," Matthew mulled over your words, "and this has been going for the past.."

"4 years.”

"And you remember nothing before that? No family, no one from your past?"

An all so ever familiar brush of sadness tingled every bone in your body. "No," you exhaled.

"I am sorry.”

"Eh I am used to it now. Besides I love my life with the boys. I did search for any signs of my family, if I had one and then just gave up after a year. The boys are my family now."

"Include me in too.”

You laughed at Matthew’s response. "Of course you are my precious little raven."

"My lady," Lucienne's voice greeted you, "he’s ready.”

While you were away, Morpheus had tried to repair the damage only for a fresh bout of earthquakes to replace the previous destruction. Now you made your way to where he stood crafting dreams or nightmares.

"Mortal," he said in greeting, his back turned to you.

"Dream.”

He moved aside and your breath got caught in your throat. Staring at you, was a half human, half monster who had a tongue of a reptile and teeth like razors. The stuff of literal nightmares.

"Make him trust you," Dream spoke.

"Are you crazy?" You looked at him as if someone had cracked his skull open and was gorging on his brains and someone might have with what he was suggesting.

"You dare-?"

Yes you fucking dared. What was he expecting you to do, commit suicide?

But he was after all an Endless, and you did not wish to invoke his wrath so you only mumbled, "I can't do this, you can't expect me to get a nightmare to trust me! It's unreal!"

"But ghosts trust you.”

"Yes because they are ghosts and he is, well a bloody nightmare.”

"Try.”

"And who's guaranteeing that I won't die trying?”

"I am.” His words were solid pebbles dropping in your guts.

You don't know what made you take the next step, maybe it was the conviction in his voice, but you stretched your arms forward and warily tried to approach the monster human. You took baby steps towards him, just a few more, you assured yourself but then the nightmare lunged straight for you. You tripped backward and the sandy ground contacted your back. But before the nightmare could contact you, Dream raised his hand and the nightmare vanished into darkness, flecks of what he once used to be gracing the ground in front of you. You got up on your feet, the image of razor teeth inches away from your face still imprinted in your mind.

"I am sorry Dream I can't do this."

"What?” A frown displayed on his face. “But I ensured no harm came to you.”

"Dream I was saved from becoming nightmare food by a mere second!"

"I would not have let any harm befall you." His eyes sook yours trying to convey the determination behind his words.

Your face softened. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But how could you trust his creations when you did not trust the creator himself.

"And I am just supposed to believe you?"

"Morta-"

"You know I have a name. If you want me to help you, the least you can do is stop perceiving me as a fly in your path and call me by my name!" you snapped.

Dream was silent.

"Get me out of here.”

You half expected him to deny your request but sand began swirling around you, and the next moment you were teleported back to the waking world. Had he so easily given up on you? Good riddance.

When you pushed the door to the apartment open, the guys were huddled together on the couch, watching television.

"Hey! how was your date?" Charles asked, his gaze fixed on the television.

"Terrible," you murmured and slammed the door to your bedroom behind you.

The king of Dreams sat on his throne, gazing at the universe contained in his ceiling, when he felt you enter the Dreaming. He always did. He entered the mountain clearing, your lone figure was sprawled on the grass in the distance beneath the starry sky. Before his brain could object, he started towards you.

You must have felt his presence because you bolted upright when he neared you, “Dream,”

His name felt so weightless on your tongue, he wanted to hear it again and again. You on the other hand didn’t know why you were so surprised to see him here, it was his realm after all.

“I told you I am not-"

“Relax Hazel, I am not here to impart any lessons to you.”

Hazel

“So why are you here?”

He opened his mouth and closed it, no answer left him. Had you just seen the Dream Lord hesitate? You patched the grass beside you, an invitation for truce. Tentatively, he sat down, his cloak spooling around him. It was an odd sight, seeing the Dream Lord on the ground beside you, instead of his ceremonious throne.

“Did you create this?” You asked.

“Partially, I had help.”

“I thought only you had the power to create dreams and nightmares.” Your time in the library had been well spent.

“It is true, but the vision can always belong to someone else. His voice was soft, words floating into the winds.

You imagined someone having the vision for this, for this phenomenal beauty you were sitting in and you thanked them.

“It’s beautiful.” Your voice came like a whisper.

Morpheus looked at you. “It is.”

You both sat in silence, gazing at the stars twinkling above you.

Dream’s voice penetrated the quiet. “Mort-Hazel, I never mean to belittle you. And believe it or not, I am grateful to you for your help. But you have to understand that-”

“Then make me understand.” You repeated your words from your first visit to the Dreaming.

Morpheus sighed before the low baritone of his voice reached you. “You know there are seven of us. There is Death, Destiny, Desire, Delirium, Despair, Destruction and I. And it is our purpose to ensure the smooth running of humankind. We have been here since the beginning of time itself and will be here when the last soul departs the Earth-” You had already read all this in the library but let him go on “-but along us siblings, there was,” he paused.

You thought it was for dramatic effect but when he didn’t continue, you called to him, “Dream?”

He inhaled sharply, “Hope.” The word left his mouth in a breathy exhale. “There was Hope, and she held together what you could call the fabric of humanity.”

“Where is she now?” You asked.

Dream looked at you for some time and answered, his voice a whisper, “dead.”

The hurt in his voice took you off guard.

“I am sorry.”

Silence engulfed the both of you again.

“Is that the reason behind the earthquakes?”

“Hope and Dream are co-dependent. Neither can exist without the other. We thought, we hoped that the future could withstand the loss of hope, but the inhabitants of the Dreaming grow weak without her pulse and the realm itself is failing.”

“And if it does, so will humanity.” Your words sunk in you.

“Because what are humans, rather any of us, without dreams and hope?” He looked at you.

“And that is why you need me, to instill trust in the dreams and nightmares so that they don’t stray from their purpose to serve humanity,” everything clicked, "Dream I had no idea-“

“It wasn’t your fault,” he stated. “But now since you know how imperative it is for the dreams and nightmares to learn to trust, the shadow of hope, will you help me,” his eyes held yours and there was a delicate plea seeping into his gravelly voice, “save the world?”

“Yes.”

You rested your head against Edwin's torso as you flipped through the mail you were holding. He was propped against the back of the wall as he went through a thick volume of ghost fungi or something. You couldn't care less. The past week had been tiring, an understatement of course. Your every organ was tired, despite sleeping for 10 hours a day. But it wasn't like you were sleeping, Morpheus and you trained every night in the Dreaming, and your grueling efforts had reaped no fruit yet. And during the days, the agency's work took a toll on you. The only respite from your exhausting and rigorous routine was the hour just before dawn, when you'd sit with Dream in your little bubble and gaze at the stars together. You'd begun looking forward to it every day, you had realised with reluctance.

"Aha! This seems interesting.” You held out a paper in your hand, grabbing the attention of both the boys.

Charles tilted his head from his position on the table to read the print on the paper. "A demon possession, brills!"

"So your believe you are possessed by a demon?" Edwin scribbled notes in his notepad.

"Yes.” The girl's voice was hoarse with crying.

"And what makes you believe that?"

"I-I wake up in strange places which I have no memory of traveling to, and there are voices inside my head-”

"Yeah, welcome to being alive duh," you snorted.

Shit you had said that aloud.

Charles gave you a rebuking look.

"Sorry," you muttered.

"The voices inside my head, they are too loud. He makes me do things I would never do," the girl continued.

"Can you..feel him right now?"

"No,” she shook her head, “he surfaces only occasionally," she sniffed.

"Hey." Charles held the girl by her shoulders. "Don't worry, you will be okay. We will get him out, we promise.”

Oh no, there was only one rule. You never ever promised a client. You look up expecting to see Edwin's dismal expression but only find a thin veil of envy coating his features. Oh boy.

You were just beginning to tease him when you caught the unmistakable unruly hair of the King of Dreams to your right in the distance.

"Uh guys, I will be right back," you told the group, "really need to pee."

God you needed to work on your excuses.

"What are you doing here?" You hissed when you neared him.

Matthew cawed on his shoulder.

"Pleased to meet you too Hazel.”

"I thought we had a deal, no training during daytime.”

"It's not I but Lucienne who seeks you. She needs your help with the library.”

"Oh?” Spending an entire day in the library of dreams? Sign me up. “Well then I could make an exception for her,” you hummed.

“Of course, it doesn’t assist any fascination of yours,” he mocked.

“Did you just attempt sarcasm? They grow up so fast.” You wiped false tears.

“Come now-”

“I need to tell the boys first, and don’t-don’t do that whirlpool thing here,” you looked around, “there are witnesses. Meet me at the-”

Before you could finish, he dissolved into nothingness. Great.

“Were you um talking to yourself?” Edwin’s voice spooked you.

You whirled around. “Yeah, just normal sane things.” You added hurriedly, “what’s with the girl?”

Edwin’s expression changed into annoyance at her mention. “Charles insists on taking her back to the apartment to-“ he drew quotation marks in the air, “-monitor her in hopes of expelling the demon out of her body.”

“Well all the best with that.”

“What do you mean? You aren’t coming back with us?”

“I just think that since she’s not a ghost and I don’t have any leverage over her, I might pursue other activities today.”

“Like the date?” Edwin frowned.

“No-Yes,” you sighed, giving up.

“Uh alright have fun. See you tonight.”

“You too.”

You were propped up in Lucienne’s chair, combing through yet another volume of the history of the universe. The sheer rarity of this knowledge baffled you. You hadn’t seen Morpheus since he had apparated the both of you in the library. Turns out, Lucienne had been rearranging vast sections of the library today and even though she didn’t exactly need your help with that, she welcomed an eager friend and her joyful company. After hours of studying her intricate filing system and aiding her in that, your tired self now sat a few feet away from where she stacked the remnant books in their allotted places. You simply were in awe of that woman. Matthew chirped from your shoulder, he had seemed to make a home there. Eyes drooping with exhaustion, you slammed the book shut. Should you ask them? It’s now or never right?

“Who was Hope?”

Lucienne froze in her movements, and Matthew stopped chirping. A feather could be heard dropped in the quiet that you had unknowingly compelled the room into.

The librarian answered after what felt like hours, “it isn’t our place to say, my lady.”

You nodded, a part of you had already known her answer.

“Hazel please Lucienne.”

”Sorry my la- Hazel.”

Jesse, you had learned was the name of the possessed girl, giggled at an extremely, extremely horrid joke of Charles.

“I don’t understand. That wasn’t funny,” Edwin said.

Man he really needed to learn to conceal his jealousy better.

“You and me both buddy,” you said more to yourself.

“It’s alright mate, it isn’t exactly Victorian humour,” Charles said in between laughs.

Charles and Jesse were clustered together on the couch, being unnecessarily touchy. Edwin was viewing them with a bitter scowl.

You nudged him in the ribs lightly, “Someone is jealous.”

“Please, like she is someone a human or ghost could get jealous over.”

Was he seriously that utterly daft?

“Eds I meant Charles,” you said it in a ‘duh that’s so obvious’ tone.

“What?” He got immediately defensive. “Charles is my best friend, and nothing more. Nor do I wish him to be,” he jutted his chin out.

“Ok liar, pants on fire,” you squinted at him.

“Hazel I don’t know how to prove that to you.”

You tittered, “prove it to yourself, love.”

Edwin sat in deliberate consideration for a while. You glanced at the time, 9:00 pm, you were so tired but the day was young even though the moon was out. A part of you just wanted to escape your destiny and blah blah, but the part that was slowly growing attached to Dream didn't let you do so.

“Hazel?” Charles’ voice pulled you back.

“Uh yeah,”

“So tell her about it.”

“About what?”

“About the case of the sea monster we solved a while back," he said with annoyance, "were you not listening to me?”

“Uh uh. No can do.” You got up, brushing imaginary flecks of dust from your pants. “Anyways lads, I am going to disintegrate myself into my beloved bed now where my beloved sleep awaits me.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my Hazel?” Charles pointed his fingers at you.

“What?” You laughed.

“Mate you have been going to bed at 9 pm for more than a week now, you, the one who put the sleep schedule of owls to shame.”

“Yeah I don’t know man I just feel super tired recently.”

“Everything's aces right?” Charles’ voice was concerned.

“You just seem a lot distant lately,” Edwin added.

“I do?” Genuine shock seeped into your tone. You needed to cover your tracks better. You fucking hated keeping things from them. Jesse looked curiously at you.

“Yep boys everything's aces, it’s just called being in your 20's right?” You tried to lighten the atmosphere with a joke.

They didn’t even seem half convinced but didn’t interfere further as you entered your room and subsequently the land of Dreams.

The river babbled as it shimmered under the stars. Morpheus and you sat together after another training session. You were getting closer, both you and him were sensing it. You turned your head towards him, his dark eyes held the entire cosmos in them, and his cloak blended into the surroundings. Here in the dark, under the cover of the night, he almost felt like an extension of darkness itself. His hair was wild like always, falling on his forehead, and you had the sudden urge to glide your fingers through them and tuck them back. Embarrassing.

“Do you wish to say something, mortal?”

This time the mortal wasn’t used as a deriding remark, rather it had now become a term of endearment between you two.

“Did you love her?” The question escaped you.

Morpheus was silent. “Love who?”

“Hope,” you said, her name on your tongue a weird sensation.

He didn’t answer. But that was answer enough for you. Dream in love? The literal king of Dreams was capable of experiencing an emotion as tender as love? A pang of something hit your insides. Jealousy? No, can’t be. No way in hell you were falling for an Endless, least of all him.

Time laughed somewhere in the universe.

SERIES MASTERLIST✧˖°.

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bekolxeram · 8 days ago

Text

Buck being Buck, of course he'll do something stupidly sweet to make sure Tommy won't spend the holidays alone. (Spoilers, he's asking everyone Tommy knows to keep him company.) Tommy being Tommy, of course he's already ordered a Christmas gift for Buck months ago. Here's what happens after Sal told Tommy a kid from the 118 tracked him down and begged him to stay in LA for the holidays instead of flying home. (Buck offered to pay for his entire family to fly to LA instead, Sal said "you're fucking crazy.") Please enjoy this tiny snippet of Bucktommy's continuing saga in my head.

"Dear Buck,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I got you these because I remember you said — "

Tommy crumples the piece of paper he’s been writing on in his hand. It didn’t sound right. It sounded too much like he got out of his way to buy his ex a thoughtful gift, nearly 2 months after he walked out of the door and tore his heart into pieces. It takes a special kind of bastard to do that, to think that he still has the right to do that. Ev… Buck is an amazing guy and a total catch anyway, he’s probably seeing someone new already, exploring his new found freedom, enjoying the joy of fully being his true self. The last thing Tommy wants is to overstep his boundaries, or worse, to throw a wrench into his gradually stabilizing life.

He picks up another paper and starts over.

"Mr. Buckley,

Thank you for your thoughtful gesture. I would like to express my gratitude by gifting you these — "

This too joins the growing pile of paper balls on Tommy’s table. It may be the worst one so far, it reads more like an official diplomatic address between two countries on opposite sides of the Pacific Ocean. Who even calls him Mr. Buckley?

Staring at the box sitting on his kitchen island, Tommy seems to run out of idea even faster.

It’s about the size of a shoebox, it currently contains something Tommy ordered months in advance that would’ve been Buck’s Christmas gift. The package is wrapped up in simple matte gray with white snowflakes pattern throughout, adorned by a classic red ribbon tied into a bow. The only thing missing is a written message from the sender attached.

With an empty mind, Tommy starts writing again. This time, he lets his heart guide his pen.

"Dear Evan,

Thank you.

I can’t believe you did that for me, even after what I did to you.

I guess that’s just who you are, always caring, always considerate, always burning yourself to illuminate others.

You have a way to people’s heart, you know? Anyone would be lucky to have you.

And boy was I lucky. You almost made me believe I deserved a life with you.

But I also know once the initial excitement has passed, you’ll start seeing me for who I really am. Trust me, you’ll end up hating me. I’ve been there before.

I wish I was brave enough to stay, but I’m not an activist, I’m not a fighter, I’m just… broken. I spent most of my life hiding in the closet that I’ve hurt more people than I can count, I’ve hurt people I loved, I’ve hurt people you loved.

When you asked me to move in with you, even after… no, especially after you’d learned my history with Abby, I knew I had to walk away. No matter how much it hurt at the time, the thought of you despising me, being abhorred by my past, revolted by my cowardice, would quite literally kill me.

Maybe I should’ve cut things short earlier, and I’m sorry for being selfish, for being greedy. Every time I got to wake up next to you, to watch your beautiful face at peace in the land of dreams, I prayed for just one more morning like this. Every time I got to stay up with you, to hold you in my arms while you were diving deep into whatever obscure topic that perked your interest, I hoped for just another night basking in your presence.

Maybe I should’ve never accepted the invite to your sister’s wedding.

Maybe I should’ve never agreed to meet you at the café that morning.

Maybe I should’ve never asked you out to begin with.

But I did. I did all of that fully knowing my heart would be broken one way or another. And it was all my fault.

I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry.

Maybe I’ve always known deep down how it would end before it even started, but I guess I…

I loved you anyway."

Instead of adding to the pile of scrapped ideas, Tommy abruptly stands up, taking his heartfelt confession with him, and throws it into the fireplace.

He watches on as the searing hot flame engulfs the piece of paper, rendering his soul into tiny bits of black charcoal, which slowly dissipate into nothingness.

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

*Knock, knock, knock*

"Hey, you’re early. I haven’t finished packi… Oh." Buck says as he’s opening the door.

Surprisingly, the person standing in front of him isn’t the one he’s expecting.

"Evan Buckley?"

"Yes, I am him."

"You have a package delivery. Just sign here and you’re good to go." The mailman hands him a clip board with a confirmation form on it.

"And… done, thank you. Happy holidays." Bucks trades the signed receipt for the nicely wrapped box in the mailman’s hand.

"You too."

Buck doesn’t recall having ordered anything to be delivered lately. That’s when he notices the small envelope attached to the ribbon tied around the box. There’s a handwritten note inside, the handwriting oddly familiar. It says:

"Dear Buck,

I ordered these many months ago when you told me you were running out of space for photos on your fridge.

I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done. You don’t have to get me anything in return.

Think of it as a parting gift, one last piece from the past, before you move on to a much brighter future.

To new beginnings.

- T"

Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down his rippling emotions. He then carefully unties the ribbon to unwrap the gift box. Inside it, there’s a set of magnetic digital picture frames.

While he’s debating what to do with this thoughtful gift from his ex, whether to put it up to use or not, he hears knocking on the door once again. Only this time, the right person is standing on the other side.

"Uncle Buck!😊"

(Inspired by this song, I do recommend listening to it while (re)reading)

Everything I've written exists in the same universe and timeline btw. If you've read my ficlet set in next March, you'll know it's not that sad. Anyway I hope I'd be able to turn all my headcanon in to a long series one day. (Sorry for the long addendum, I tried putting everything in tags but Tumblr stopped showing this post in the tags)

#tommy kinard #bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #bucktommy ficlet #bucktommy fic #bucktommy fanfic

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

Life Sized

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: After a spell gone wrong, Eddie Munson is stuck with a real life Lucky Lucy doll.

warnings: fluff. slight angst. grump x sunshine reader. cussing. mentions of Eddie dealing. strangers to friends. Reader is a doll, "Lucky Lucy", however because she's made up skin tone, body type, and ethnicity is not mentioned. Eddie calls reader doll/Luce/Lucy Reader does wear Eddie's clothes. Reader and Eddie are around 20 (even though reader is a doll, she's been out for about 20 something years). 90s era.

*if I missed anything please let me know!

a/n: hi my loves! I'm so sorry for the wait but life was hectic for the past few days with schedule changes and birthday plans. I want to let you guys know I am slightly hung over so this might now be the best. Anyway, thank you guys for joining me on this birthday adventure! Love you guys :)

Cause we are living in a material world

And I am a material girl

“Woah woah woah woah woah,” Eddie waves hand back and forth, eyes closed as he tries to process what he just heard, “You did what?”

Sighing heavily, Dustin stands up from the well loved couch that sits in the Munson’s trailer. “If you listened the first time you would have heard me. I said, I went to the crazy lady’s store in the hopes of bringing Chews back from the dead because I can’t watch my mom cry anymore. Before I created a monster out of a dead cat, we decided to practice on Mike’s sister’s doll,” Turning his body slightly, Dustin points to the pretty girl that sits in the recliner.

“It didn’t work but when we woke up this morning she was sitting there.” The curly haired boy stares at the older boy in front of him, semi out of breath from his fast speaking.

“Let me get this straight, you went to the one place that is off limits to everyone in Hawkins, bought a book of spells, and then brought a doll to life, only to bring said doll to my house?” His voice is loud enough to ricochet off the thin walls.

“Well you said everything I just said, but yeah pretty much.” The young boy nods causing the curls of his hair to bounce.

“Nuh uh, no, I don’t want any parts of this.” Shaking his head, Eddie begins to push the younger boy towards the door.

“Eddie please,” Will begs from his spot on the couch, “We have no one else to turn to.”

“Yeah, come on Eddie, we need our dungeon master.” Lucas adds, knocking his shoulder into Mike who stays quiet on the arm of the sofa.

“Hey don’t bring me into this, I didn’t want to do it.” Mike throws his hands up defensively, only to change his answer when the other two boys give him a stern look.

“I-I mean, Eddie, we need your help.” It comes out more like a question than a plea but it’s the best they're going to get out of the black haired boy.

Locking eyes with the older man who still has a hand on his shoulder, Dustin does his best to give the world's cutest puppy dog eyes.

“Please, Eddie. I need you.” It’s quiet and sincere, and because it’s coming from Dustin it goes straight to Eddie’s heart, tugging tightly on the strings.

Fuck why did he have to have such a soft spot for the kid.

“I swear to Ozzy himself, if you don’t fix this in twenty four hours, your ass is grass.” A ringed finger is pointed at Dustin, his eyes going semi cross eyed from watching it wag in his face.

Turning his body quickly, Eddie points his finger to the other three boys who sit wide eyed on the couch. “And that goes for you three. Your asses will be hanging right next to Wayne’s mugs if it doesn’t get fixed. Capiche?”

When all four heads nod vigorously, Eddie straightens his posture and releases a sigh so loud it sounds like all the air from his lungs came out.

"Can I just say, you remind me of Lucky Lars! He has cool tattoos and long hair like you too!" You're looking right at him, eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Jesus H. Christ, there's really a talking doll in my house." Eddie's voice sounds like a whining child as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Alright it seems like everything is fine here, so we're gonna go ahead and leave." Before Eddie can stop Dustin or the rest of the younger boys, they're already out the door and gone.

"Great, just fucking great." Slapping a hand down to his thigh, Eddie spins on his heel and heads to the kitchen. He needs a fucking beer, or maybe six, either way he needs something to get him through this nightmare.

Opening the fridge, he grabs a cold can of pbr and gulps it right down without taking one breath. The liquid goes down so smooth and for a minute Eddie seems to forget the predicament he's in. Then you speak and he's instantly brought back to reality.

"Um, excuse me sir," It comes out so graceful and sweet and he hates it.

Without moving his head in your direction, he spits an angry "what" at you - teeth gritting and fist clenching. A part of him regrets being mean with you, it's not your fault this whole shitshow happened.

"I um, just wanted to ask if everything was okay." He hates that your pretty face is scrunched up with so much sadness and that he's the cause of it.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"Yeah, just peachy." It's forced through his tight lip smile.

"Oh well that's great!" You annoyingly clap your hands together and he winces at the sound. "When can we go shopping?"

Eddie didn't know who he wanted to kill more, you, Dustin, or himself. Why he even agreed to taking you to Starcourt was beyond him, but God was the whole experience horrible. You commented on every single thing, stopped and looked at mundane objects, and ooh'd and awee'd every time you stepped in a new store.

Every store you walked into, you left with multiple bags, which Eddie had to carry. To make matters worse he had to pay for everything, burning a hole right through his drug dealing money. You're a doll for heaven sake, why the hell would you have money?

On the way home you would not stop talking about the whole experience, comparing everything to Lucy's Lucky Land. To make matters worse, you wouldn't stop touching the radio until you landed on the most ear bleeding pop song.

The moment the two of you arrived back at the trailer, Eddie realized he couldn't escape this nightmare. He was stuck with you until those little shit heads could come up with a solution to the problem.

"Alright, just uh.. put your bags somewhere in the corner." Eddie instructs, pointing in the cleanest corner of his bedroom.

Pink heels step on the brown shag carpet of his room, eyes traveling around as you take everything in. It was completely different from what you were used to, clothes scattered everywhere, cups and dishes stacked up, and posters with names you've never heard of.

It amazes you just like everything else you've seen today. You've never seen a room like this, not even the boy's back home had rooms like this. With wide eyes and agape mouth, you spin around with open arms, just like you did when you walked into the mall.

"Oh, Eddie! This is so beautiful!" With your bags still in hand, you sit down on the mess that is his bed.

"Oh my lucky stars!" You gasp, "Your bed is so soft!" Proving your point, you bounce on your butt causing the springs to creak with every movement.

Eddie watches from the doorway, unamused by your entertainment.

"Ugh yeah, it's a bed. Don't you have those in Lucky Land of Lucy or whatever it's called." Crossing his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow in questioning.

"It's Lucy's Lucky Land," you correct him, still smiling ear to ear, "and yes we do have beds! Our beds are made of plastic though, not bouncy like this one!" Sliding the bags from your arms, you continue to bounce but now you use your arms to make yourself go higher.

"Right, I should've known." He drawls.

Crossing into the room, Eddie starts taking off his vest and leather jacket, followed by his heavy boots. He doesn't realize that you've stopped bouncing, now honed in on his movements.

Turning around from where he stands by his dresser, he's met with the sight of you trying to take your shirt off.

"H-hey now, let's not do that." Turning his head to the side so he doesn't see anything he's not supposed to, he stretches his arms out to stop your hands from moving.

"Did I do something wrong?" You're so sincere when you say it, innocence dripping off of you like raindrops on a flower's petals.

"You can't just start taking your clothes off, Luce." His eyes are still to the floor, cheeks glowing red from the flush that's creeped it's way there.

"But I thought that's what you were doing." It sounds dejected and Eddie chances a look at you and he instantly regrets it.

There you sit on his messy, old, stain ridden bed, glossy pout on your lips and eyes glassy with tears. In that moment he sees you, the girl that's been nothing but sunshine and rainbows all day, the girl that's taken every indirect insult he threw with a smile on your face, now reduced to tears because of him.

"No, sweetheart, I was just taking off my shoes and jacket. When it's ready to change I'll let you do it in privacy." He tried his best to explain to you not wanting to upset you anymore.

"Are you mad at me?" You sniffle.

His eyes study your face, watching the tears roll down the plush skin of your cheeks. The more he looks, the worse his frown gets. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"B-because you d-don't want m-me here. I-I didn't mean to r-ruin your life Eddie." Tears now fall like a stream of water and words are being choked out through hiccups.

Eddie can feel all the blood drain from his body, cemented to the floor of his room. You're reduced to tears and snot because you think he hates you. He made you feel this way through constant eye rolls and loud huffs. You've been nothing but kind to him, trying everything in your power to get him to have one decent conversation with you. Yeah, there were some things he couldn't wrap his mind around when it came to you, especially when you tried to chase down a squirrel in pure curiosity, but you were trying.

Just this afternoon were you dropped off in a stranger's home, new to everything in the world, with not one single clue about life outside of your little playland. You didn't ask to be brought to life, you didn't ask for any of this but Eddie made it your problem the minute you opened your mouth.

He doesn't know what to do or say, he just stands there completely silent watching your shiny exterior crumble to nothing.

"I j-just wanted to be y-your friend b-but you hate me." Your small palms catch your face, your sobs now echoed in the curve of your hands.

"Lucy," Eddie walks over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, "I don't hate you, okay?"

Separating two of your fingers, you peek at him from the comfort of your hiding spot and quickly retreat when brown eyes peer into yours.

"Lucy,” He calls but you don't move.

"Luuuccy," This time it's sung but still no movement from you.

Releasing a deep breath, he tries to think of something that will make you happy.

"I guess I'll just have to find someone else to play with my hair." Shagging his shoulders, Eddie sighs sadly and drops his head.

"I can play with your hair?" You sniffle, face still shining with the wetness of your tears.

Craning his head back to you, he smiles softly and nods his head. In an instant your jumping up from the bed, clapping your hands together in happiness.

"So what kind of jobs do they have in Lucy Land?" Eddie asks, wincing slightly from your finger untangling a knot in his hair.

"Oh we have so many! I've been a fashion designer, model, singer, baker, doctor, and a ballerina!" Your fingers continue to intertwine sections of the curly brown hair, trying to be as delicate as possible.

"Then there's Lars, the one you remind me of, and he's an action star. Then there's Lance who is a race car drive. Linda is a teacher, Lorelai is a painter, Lily is a florist, and then there's Larry, he doesn't have a job."

"Why doesn't Larry have a job?" He asks, flinching slightly when you pull a little too hard for his liking.

"Cause he's Larry." You say nonchalantly.

Pulling the scrunchie from Eddie's wrist, you tie off the first braid before moving on to the next one.

"What's your job?" It's an innocent question but it still makes him choke on his drink.

"I ugh, I uh work in sales?" It's the best answer he can come up with, not wanting to explain what drug dealing means to your innocent ears.

You continue to tug on his hair, pulling and twisting strands. "What's that?"

"I sell things." Blood rushes to the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks.

"Like what?"

Eddie would rather deal with the yanking of his hair than answer this question. He racks his brain for an answer, letting a small pause settle over the conversation.

"I sell brownies to people." Doing his best to shrug, embarrassment sinking to the pit of his stomach.

"Oh my golly!!! I love making brownies," You gasp and then pause for a moment, "but in my world our ovens and food are fake, so I wouldn't know how to do it in your world."

"Wait, so what do you eat?" Eyebrows are pinched together in confusion.

"Oh Eddie, you're so silly." You giggle, reaching for his other wrist that adorns the pink scrunchie.

Tying the end of his braid, you pat his shoulders gently, "All done."

The lanky boy stretches from his position on the floor, knees creaking from the movements. Walking over to his mirror, calloused fingers run over the french braids, shocked by how neat they are.

"Wow," he whispers, "They look really good, doll." Eyes still trailing over his hair, head moving side to side making sure to see every angle.

"They look so good because I had such a pretty model." Your lips are sprawled out into a smile.

Eddie finds himself blushing again, bats swarming around in his tummy and heart skipping multiple beats. Trying his best to shake it off, he claps his hands together and spins to face you.

"How about I make you my famous mac and cheese for payment?"

"Who knew food could be so good?" A satisfied sigh falls from your lips.

"Yeah, who would've thought?" Eddie snorts, sarcasm soaking his words.

Leaning back onto the couch, your eyes flutter shut in contentment. Your hands sit folded on top of your belly, shoeless feet propped up on the coffee table in front of you.

Eddie lets you enjoy your food coma, picking up the empty bowls and walking them to the sink. He decides it would be better if he washes them now, not wanting Wayne to get home and bitch him out for having a full sink.

Once the dishes are done and dried, he walks back into the small living room and is met with the sight of you sleeping. Long eyelashes fall on the tops of your cheeks, your permanent smile still sits on your pretty glossed lips, and small snores falling from your nose.

For a moment he just looks at you, eyes following the lines of your features for the first time all day. When you first showed up, he could see that you were pretty and during the mall trip he'd find little details he hadn't noticed before, but right now he's really taking his time to admire you.

You're so beautiful, flawless really, and man did he get lucky having you crash into his life. You're a doll, something that's made of plastic, but nothing about you screams fake. You're so sweet and kind, always quick to accept whatever apology he gives you when he's been shitty.

Your spirit and energy shines brightly through you, bringing light to the darkness of his reality like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. You're all pink and sparkles, glitter and fluff, while he's black and spikes. For all the bad in the world, you remind Eddie of all the good.

He doesn't hate you, in fact he likes you and he wants to have you around for a bit longer. He wants to be friends with you, teach you about the real world and everything it has to offer. For the first time today Eddie realizes that this might not be so bad, not when he gets to relive all the cool things in life with you by his side.

Stalking over to you, he gently shakes your shoulder. "Luce, hey Lucy. Come on, s'time to wake up."

Squinting from the harsh yellow lighting of the room, your lips pout slightly from the rude intrusion of your slumber.

"Come on, Luce. We're gonna go to bed now." Holding out a hand to you, Eddie helps you stand up from the couch.

"I don't have jammies." You sound like a small child, voice quiet and hushed from how tired you are.

"What did you get at the mall then?" Leading you to the edge of the bed, he helps you sit down.

"I bought cute clothes to wear during the day." You shrug, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand.

"Of course you did." It's quiet enough so you can't hear, fingers rubbing hard over his forehead. "Alright, well I have something you can wear."

Digging through his drawers, Eddie finds an old Hellfire shirt and a pair of sweatpants from high school he doesn't wear anymore. Walking back over to you, he hands you the clothes and instructs you to change when he leaves the room and to call for him when you're done.

When your groggy voice echoes from behind the closed door, he slowly creeps in. You're still sitting in the same spot now wearing his clothes.

"Everything fit okay?" You nod, eyes growing heavier the longer you're up.

"Good, good. Well let me help you," Eddie leans over you, trying to fluff up the pillows the best that he can. Pulling the covers back, he tucks you into place.

"I'll be sleeping on the couch, so if you need anything just call my name and I'll be back." Giving you a tight lipped smile, he turns to shut the bedside lamp off.

"Eds?" Your voice cuts off his actions. "Can you sleep in here with me?" You blink up at him tiredly, still as beautiful as ever.

"How about I sleep on the floor next to you? Is that okay?" Eddie offers and you quickly accept with a sleepy smile and a lazy nod.

"Okay let me grab some extra blankets from the closet and change, then I'll be in." He reassures and you wiggle around in a tiny dance making his chuckle.

"Hey Eddie," Again you cut his movements short, "Thanks for being my best friend. I like being here with you." Your smile is shy, fingers nervously picking at the frayed edges of the blanket.

"I like being with you too. Thanks for being my best friend." The two of you beam at one another, letting the warmth of your budding friendship sink into both of you.

Leaving the room Eddie makes sure to shut the door behind him. Before he digs for any kind of blanket, he moves to the phone that sits on the wall. Punching the numbers fast, he looks back to make sure you haven't left your spot.

After a few rings, the other line finally picks up to his relief.

"I know it's late but ugh," He checks the door one more time just in case, "Forget what I said earlier. Yeah, she's gonna be staying here for a bit longer."

After hanging up the phone and grabbing whatever he needed, he heads back into the room where you're now sound asleep. Throwing a pillow to the floor, he shuts off the light and lays down.

For a moment it's quiet, the darkness of the room lulling him to sleep quickly. Before his eyes slam shut, your arm snakes out from under the blanket, your awaiting palms sitting there for him. Without hesitation, he grabs on and holds it for dear life.

Yeah, having you around won't be so bad.

Thank you guys for reading! love you all <3

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