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findmeinforks · 11 months ago

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Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words

"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.

"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.

"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.

"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.

"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.

"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.

"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.

"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.

"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.

He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.

"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.

"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.

"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.

"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.

"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.

Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.

"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"

The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.

"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.

Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.

There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.

The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.

But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.

Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.

Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.

Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.

You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.

"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.

She returned your same smile.

"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."

You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.

What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.

Emily gestured to each of them,

"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."

You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.

There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.

You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,

"Better luck next time kid."

Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.

After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.

Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.

You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.

"I am so, so sorry. I-"

"No no it's fine, are you-"

Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"

A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.

Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.

An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.

His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.

Paul couldn't breathe.

He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.

You were beautiful.

Breathtaking.

Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-

No.

No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.

Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?

Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.

He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.

You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.

But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.

Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.

Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.

That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.

Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.

It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.

"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.

That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.

"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."

Paul.

"Leave me alone Sam."

Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.

He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".

That had been when he lost it.

He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.

"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."

Paul scoffed.

"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."

"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.

"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.

"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"

"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."

Sam sighed.

"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."

Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.

You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?

You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.

You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.

Damn, wolves must have good hearing.

"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.

He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.

He couldn't sleep either?

You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.

Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...

STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.

He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.

"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.

"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."

He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.

You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.

"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."

He chuckled.

"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."

"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.

He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.

The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.

"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.

His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.

"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."

You smiled.

"I'd like that."

To be continued......

#paul lahote #sam uley #twilight #bella swan #edward cullen #embry call #imagine #jacob black #new moon #quil ateara #eclipse #seth clearwater #emily young #breaking dawn #fanfiction #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #paul x reader #fiction

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makoodles · 1 year ago

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ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

#on holidays atm and I’ve been stressing about how to post this 😭 I’ll have part 2 posted in a day or two!#neteyam #neteyam x human #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #na'vi x human #na’vi x reader #awow #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #fics

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 9 months ago

Note

ethan and reader doing a sex tape?? also don’t know if ur comfortable but can you do a full detailed one??! please and tyy have a good day🙏🏻

I am SO SORRY it took so long to write this(a little over a month. I feel like an ass). It's literally 4.4k words, strictly smut with a dash of fluff. I kinda went in on this lmao

Into It - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend convinces you to make a sex tape with him.

Contains: Long ass smut lmao - Oral, m and f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, a little ass smacking, p in v, multiple position changes, unprotected sex. (If I missed something, let me know. I'm SO SLEEPY rn)

A/N: If there's any grammatical errors, shh no there's not. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open tbh 🙃

“I don’t know about this, Ethan,” you mumbled, as he helped you take your shirt off.

“No one else will see it but us, babe,” he said, trying to convince you. “People do stuff like this all the time.”

“Yeah, on porn sites,” you sighed, as he unhooked your bra.

“You’re way better than any of the other girls on those sites, baby. Watching you take my cock whenever I want to would be so hot,” he said, running his hands over your newly exposed breasts. You felt a chill run down your spine as his fingertips started to graze over your nipples.

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat, his fingers trailing further down your body, “but if anyone else sees it Ethan-“

Your words got stuck in your throat as he started to rub you over your panties.

“What was that, baby?” he asked, his lips turning to a smile as he watched you squirm. “You were just about to threaten me, I think.”

“Don’t be an ass,” you got out, your breath heavy as he slid your panties to the side. “Can we at least get on the bed?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ll get my phone set up,” he said, as he pulled his hand away from you. He looked around the room as you crawled onto the bed. “Hmm, this might work…for now,” he said, walking over to the bookshelf in your room. “At least while I’m teasing you.”

“What if I don’t want you to tease me?” you asked, a smirk playing on your lips as he turned around to look at you.

“You and I both know you like it,” he said, before turning back around and getting his phone set up. He pulled his shirt over his head after he was satisfied with the angle, the view of your bed perfectly in frame.

You stared at him as he walked around to the other side of the bed. You’d seen him without clothes so many times, but you always had to admire how hot he was.

Once he stood against the side of the bed, you wanted to put on a little show for the video he was making. You got on all fours, your ass sticking up as you started to unbuckle his belt. His eyes drank in the sight, loving the way your body looked in that position. He thought you always looked perfect, but there was just something about the way you looked in that moment that desperately made him want to fuck you even more than he already wanted to.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his thighs as he kicked them off the rest of the way, leaving him in his boxers as he crawled on the bed with you. You saw how hard he already was, the small wet spot on his boxers from his precum made your mouth water.

You sat on your knees as he leaned in to kiss you, his mouth gently moving against yours, at first. He soon had you pushed back on the plush comforter, his tongue dancing with yours as one of his hands started to roam your body, his touches making your skin tingle.

He trailed kisses along your jaw, down your neck as you whimpered at the feeling. You felt him smile against you before his mouth started to attack your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you said, as he started to suck on the sensitive flesh.

You knew you’d have to cover the mark later, but you didn’t care. You loved the little reminders he’d leave of how good he made you feel.

He moved lower, placing tender kisses along your collar bone.

“You really are going to tease the fuck out of me, aren’t you?” you asked, the desperation in your voice making him laugh softly.

“Patience, baby,” he said, as his mouth made its way to one of your nipples.

He sucked it into his mouth as you gasped, the feeling making your core throb even more than it already was. Once he was satisfied with the attention he gave to it, he moved to the other one, his tongue swirling against it before he started to suck.

He could tell your pussy was craving attention when your hips started to wiggle. He ran his hand gently down your body until he made it to your soaked panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said, as you whined in response. “I’ll make you cum soon, babe. I promise.”

He pulled his hand away as you started to get frustrated, your pouty lips making him smirk when his hooded eyes connected with yours. He shook his head at your expression, turning his attention back to the teasing, his lips trailing between your breasts and down your stomach. You ran one of your hands through his hair as he made his way down your body, him groaning against you as he felt your nails against his scalp.

“You know what that does to me,” he said, as he stopped at the top of your panties.

Your breathing got heavier as you waited in anticipation, hoping he’d just slide your panties to the side and take care of you. That’s not what he did, though, his mouth moving towards your thighs instead. Soft moans were slipping past your lips as he kissed the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, his teeth occasionally grazing against you.

He was so close to where you needed him, his mouth as close to your pussy as it could be before, yet again, he skipped over it. He moved to the other thigh, giving the same attention that he gave to the other one.

“Ethan, please. I need it, baby,” you said, your eyes pleading with his as he looked up at you.

“I have a better idea,” he said, as he pulled away from you and slid off the side of the bed onto his feet.

“Where are you going?” you asked before you answered your own question in your head. He went over towards your bookshelf, grabbing his phone.

“Shit, I never started recording,” he said, his tone serious as you scoffed.

“You’re not teasing me like that again right now, I’m sorry,” you said, your tone defensive as he started to laugh.

“I’m just kidding, babe. I got it,” he said, walking back over to the bed. “You think you can suck my cock before I eat you out?”

You wasted no time after he crawled back up on the bed and laid on his back. You grabbed at his boxers, trying to pull them down. You huffed as you looked at him.

“Jeez, babe. You’re so needy,” he said, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to get his boxers off.

“You have no idea how bad I need to cum, but I need this, too,” you said, as his erection sprang free from his boxers, resting against his stomach as your mouth started to water. He had his phone pointed at you as you sat on your knees and started to stroke him, your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched his face.

You knew how badly he wanted you to suck it, but after all his teasing, this was the least you could do to get a small amount of revenge. His eyes got darker, realizing that’s what you were doing. You didn’t stop though, your hand movements got lazier once his breathing got heavier.

“Baby, please,” he said, “I need to feel your mouth.”

You hesitated for a minute, loving the feeling of having the upper hand as you started to move faster. Once you decided that you’d teased him enough, you leaned down, licking the drops of precum that started leaking from his tip. Just as you were about to take him into your mouth, he stopped you.

“Wait, can we do this on the floor? Like, I’m standing and you’re on your knees? I want it to be easier for you to look up at me,” he said, “Is that okay, babe?”

“Mmm, that sounds perfect,” you said, quickly shimmying off the bed and getting in the position he wanted you in before he even had the chance to sit up. He started to smile as he crawled off the bed, the corner of his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looked down at you.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, putting his cherry red tip in front of your mouth. “You’ll look even more beautiful when your mascara starts to run down your cheeks.”

Your breathing got heavier at his words, his phone pointed back at you as you grabbed his cock, rubbing his tip over your lips. You teased him like that for a few seconds before you opened your mouth, sucking on the sensitive head. His free hand ran through your hair as you started to take him in your mouth, inch by inch until you started to gag.

“Just like that, baby,” he said, as you looked up at him. Your cheeks hollowed as you started to move, your throat tightening every time the tip of his cock made it to the back of your mouth. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Your eyes were starting to water as you gagged, your tears threatening to slip out as he started to add small little thrusts into the mix, making you gag even more.

“Aww, look at you, baby,” he cooed, the tears slipping past your lower lash line. He groaned once he saw how wet his cock was from your spit, so proud of you for doing such a good job. The hand that was loosely in your hair started to get a tighter grip, his hips moving a little faster. “Such a good little slut for me.”

You whimpered around him, the throbbing in your core getting unbearable as you started to move faster. You needed him to cum so you could, and it might’ve made you a little selfish, but if you didn’t get your own release soon, you were going to go crazy.

“Shit, baby,” he said, as your red, watery eyes looked into his, “I’m gonna cum.”

It only took a few more times of your warm, wet mouth tightening around him for his hips to falter, his grunts turning into whimpers as you tasted the salty liquid. When you pulled back, his half-hard cock was connected to your mouth by strings of your saliva and his cum mixed together.

“God, baby,” he said, taking in the sight in front of him as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. He made sure that he got the perfect shot of your mascara-stained cheeks before he helped you up off the floor. “That might be the best head you’ve ever given me…does doing it in front of a camera turn you on even more?”

“I know I didn’t want to do it at first, but I wanted to make sure you had the best material for your alone time,” you said with a cracked voice, smiling at him. “I do kind of enjoy it, though.”

“We could always do this again,” he suggested, as you nodded in response. “Okay, babe. I know you need it. Get that pretty little ass of yours up on the bed.”

You did as he said, your head resting against the soft pillows as he laid his phone on the bed and crawled on top of you to kiss you again. His hand rubbed over your panties; the material drenched in your arousal. You whimpered as your hips started to move at the simple touches.

“I think these need to come off,” he said, running his hand over your hip, his thumb hooking around your panties as he started to slide them off you.

His lips trailed over your jaw again, down your neck, and over your stomach. You were almost scared that he was just going to torture you with his teasing again, but he was moving a lot quicker this time, desperate to take care of you.

You stared down at him as he got settled between your legs. “Wait, how do you want this part to be filmed?” you asked, glancing over to his phone beside you on the bed.

“Hmm, I’ll get plenty of shots of your face when I fuck you…why don’t you just film me?” he suggested, as you picked his phone up, pointing it at him as he started to lean in.

Your breath hitched the second he started to place gentle licks to your clit, your free hand going to his hair. “Mmm, feels so good,” you said, his tongue swirling over your bundle of nerves. His hands were massaging the flesh of your thighs as he held them apart, his mouth starting to sloppily move against you.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to watch him though the phone screen or not, the whole thing making you even more turned on as you felt one of his hands move up your thigh. You soon felt his middle finger prodding at your entrance before he slid it inside of you with ease, your wetness coating him as he started to move it just right.

“Shit,” you gasped, the feeling making your legs tingle.

He moved his finger for a few minutes before he added his ring finger, a low moan slipping past your lips as he started to press them a little harder against the spongy spot inside of you.

He looked up at you, noticing how quick your chest was rising and falling, your moans getting a little louder as he inched you closer to your orgasm.

He sucked your clit into his mouth as he started to move his head back and forth, his curls ticking your thighs.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whined, your eyes screwing shut as your hand in his hair started to tremble. “Oh my god.” He sucked harder, the stimulation making your legs start to jolt as your orgasm washed over you.

The sucking on your clit turned into soft licks as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing a little anyway because your pussy was clenching them so hard. Once you stopped whimpering, he slid his fingers out before placing one last lick to your clit.

He sat up as he watched you catch your breath, your hands still shaky.

“Did it feel that good, baby?” he asked, grabbing his phone that you must’ve dropped at some point on the bed.

“So good,” you mewled, your hazy eyes connecting with his as you felt his fingertips brushing against your thigh again.

“How many more times do you think you could cum for me?” he asked, your eyes fully opening as you stared at him, your nervousness obvious to him as he started to laugh. “You know after I cum from head, it takes me a while to cum again. You remember the time we went at it for almost an hour?”

“Yeah,” you said, smiling as you thought back to it.

“How many times did you cum in that hour?” he questioned with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Four,” you said softly, “We switched positions a lot.”

“Are you okay with us doing that now?” he asked, as you sat up.

“Of course, babe. This is for the little movie you’re making,” you said, the seduction in your voice making him groan.

“Come here, baby.”

He pulled you into a kiss as his hands grabbed your hips, yours running over his chest as the kiss got more heated. He was running through all the positions in his head that he wanted to do, wanting to strategically plan them so it wouldn’t be too much before he had the chance to cum again. He knew that if he went super deep after you’d already had a few orgasms, you started to get really sensitive in those positions, usually tapping out after just a few minutes.

He pulled away to look at you, “How about you ride me first?”

“Okay, babe. Condom or no condom?” you asked, as you pushed him back onto the bed.

“What do you think I want?” he asked, smirking at you.

“No condom,” you said, laughing a little.

He nodded as he bit his bottom lip. “Shit, I almost forgot,” he said pointing his phone at you as you moved to straddle him.

You sat on his thighs for a minute, stroking him as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, he just kept filming your hand move until you pulled it away. You shimmied up his body, raising up a little as you lined his cock up with your entrance. Once you started to sink down onto him, he kept glancing between you and his phone, making sure it was truly capturing the way your mouth fell open as he stretched you out.

“Mmmm,” you moaned, placing your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself as you started to bounce on his cock. “So big,” you got out, between your heavy breathing.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned, his free hand going to your hip as he helped you move.

He watched your tits bounce as you rode him, your sounds flooding out of your mouth as your nails started to dig into his chest.

“Shit, babe. That feels so good,” he groaned, as you smirked down at him. Ethan liked a little bit of pain from time to time, and you had no problem doing it for him, knowing how hard he’d cum once he’s had enough.

After a few minutes, your bouncing started to slow. Your knees were hurting and your legs were burning, but you felt that familiar feeling starting to build. It gave you enough motivation to chase your orgasm, bouncing even harder than you were before. Ethan’s seen you do this countless times, knowing that you must’ve been close. He moved his hand from your hip to your clit, his fingers rubbing quick circles.

Your ass was slapping against his thighs as you started to whimper, the feeling washing over you like a massive wave.

“Oh shit,” you slurred, drunk off his cock as you tried to keep moving, but it was getting harder to do. His hand moved back to your hip to hold you in place as he fucked up into you.

You slid him out of you as you came down from your high, laying your chest against his as you caught your breath. He felt your hard nipples pressing against him as he sat his phone down and ran his fingertips over your back.

“I hope you’re going to do most of the work for the rest of this, because my legs hurt so bad,” you said, as he started to laugh. You smiled at the vibrations coming through his chest.

“Sure, babe. I have a few ideas, you just need to lay there and take it,” he said, his hand running down your body to squeeze your ass. You moaned at the feeling, your tiredness starting to fade as you sat back up. “You ready to go again?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice still a little tired, “How do you want me?”

“Face down, ass up. Before you get too tired,” he chuckled, “I’m going to get you to hold my phone again for a little bit. I don’t get to see your face that often when I’m deep.”

“Fuuuck,” you groaned at the thought, getting in the new position, and grabbing his phone. Your hips involuntarily wiggled as your ass stuck up in the air, waiting for him to slide inside of you. He softly smacked your ass before he started to line up with your entrance, pushing his cock back inside of you.

You moaned at the feeling, the grip on your hips getting tighter as he started to thrust.

“You take it so fucking well,” he groaned, delivering a harder smack to your ass. He rubbed over your skin to soothe the slight stinging feeling. “You’re so perfect.”

His cock was buried so deep inside of you that it was hard for you to think, let alone form words. He kept saying sweet things to you, your only response to him was your moans getting louder.

He watched your free hand start to claw it the comforter, bunching it up in your hand as you tightly held on to his phone with the other. The coil in the pit of your stomach was getting tighter and tighter as he kept pounding into you. He glanced over to your phone screen, seeing all the hot little faces you were making.

“Shit,” he grunted, as you started to meet his thrusts with your hips. “You gonna cum?”

He looked at the back of your head as you started to furiously nod in response. He went even deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix.

“Watch yourself when you cum,” he ordered, as you whimpered and stared at the phone screen.

Your jaw was slack as your eyebrows knitted together, so close to falling over the edge. He just kept drilling into you, your eyes starting to flutter as the euphoric feeling hit you so hard your entire body was tingling.

“Yes, baby, feels so good” you babbled, as your boyfriend laughed in response at your current state. He loved making you completely cock dumb.

He slid out of you once your walls stopped fluttering before leaning down to place sweet kisses on the red mark on your ass cheek.

“Relax, baby,” he said softly, as he helped you adjust your legs so you could lay flat. “You’ve been doing so good for me,” he praised, rubbing his hand over your back as he sat beside you. “Can you take one more for me?”

“Missionary,” you mumbled into the comforter, making Ethan laugh. “I can’t take much more.”

“I know you can’t. I was starting to get close last time,” he said, “I know it won’t take long if you can handle it.”

“I can, if you help me,” you sighed, your body so relaxed from the multiple orgasms that you were struggling to move on your own.

He took his phone out of your tight grip before he helped you roll over onto your back. Your eyes were so glazed over, your eyes even more beautiful than they normally were.

“Thank you for doing this for me, babe,” he said, smiling sweetly at you as his hands ran over your hips. “I know we’re about to be really busy soon because of exams. This is the next best thing to actually being with you.”

“You better send it to me,” you said, your voice tired as he got settled between your legs.

“The idea of you getting off to this makes it so much hotter,” he sighed, as he pushed his tip in your entrance. “Fuck, I really might not last long. You’re already so tight.”

“It’s okay, babe. Fuck me until you can’t anymore,” you said, rubbing your fingertips across his arm as he made it all the way inside of you.

Your lips parted as soft moans slipped past your lips, his pace a little slower than it had been for the last few positions. He didn’t want to hurt you, and he knew how tired you already were.

“You can go faster, baby,” you said, his hips moving a little quicker as he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss. He almost forgot about filming, but he wanted to take care of you and make sure that you still felt the love in this, and that he wasn’t doing it just to have the hottest masturbation material for later.

He pulled away from the kiss, sitting on his knees and angling your hips so he could film his cock sliding in and out of you. He groaned once he looked down, noticing a ring of your cum coating the base of his cock from the orgasms he’d already given you.

“God, baby. You’ve already came so much,” he said, his hand running across your stomach as his pace started to get faster. His fingertips grazing against you made you shudder underneath him.

You felt your fourth orgasm of the night building, the slight overstimulation of everything making it so easy for you to cum again. One of your hands snaked down your body to rub gentle circles against your clit, as the other gripped one of your tits, pinching at your nipple as you got closer. You tried to watch him through your hazy eyes, his curls stuck to his forehead and his cheeks a deep shade of pink from all the work he was putting in.

He had his phone angled down to his cock as he felt your pussy tighten around him. Strained moaned were slipping past your lips as he groaned, noticing more of your cum on his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he pulled out, shooting it from your lower stomach all the way up to your breasts. “That was fucking amazing,” he panted, as he pointed the camera to all the cum on you before stopping the video. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you said, fighting off the urge to just fall asleep in that moment as he laid down beside you.

“We really need to shower. We’re both so sweaty, and you’re covered in cum,” he said with a small laugh as you groaned.

“Can I just have a couple minutes to rest? I don’t think I can stand long enough to shower right now,” you said, as you felt his fingers lace with yours, his thumb softly rubbing over the top of his hand.

“Yeah, babe. If you doze off, I’ll wake you up,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

When Ethan got home the next morning, the first thing he did was upload the video he made onto his computer. He started to edit it, only taking out the moments when nothing was actually being filmed. After he watched the video from beginning to end after he’d finished editing it, he was rock hard as he pulled out his phone to text you.

Ethan: If you ever want to drop out of school, I have a new career idea for you…

You: Oh?👀

Ethan: You should see this video. You’d be amazing in porn😏

You: Hmm, maybe I will drop out🧐

Ethan: Don’t get any ideas though. I’m the only one you’d be fucking.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

669 notes · View notes

hereforhalstead · 8 months ago

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you.

I couldn’t resist… it’s nothing groundbreaking, sorry!! Your gal is quite rusty so shout if you have any prompt ideas 🙃

Spencer Reid x reader fluff!

*****

He could feel the sweat, beading on his forehead. Stirring in his sleep as he realised what was causing the heat to rise. You.

You were in his bed.

You’d never slept in his bed before.

Whenever you’d had a late night, it always ended up at your place but never his.

He did his best to keep a distance between his comfort place and other people, only letting them into his private life once he felt truly comfortable and it seemed you had made the cut.

Your leg was draped, effortlessly over his hips. Your hand placed on his chest, lightly scratching over his exposed skin every so often.

His eyes dropped to watch your fingernails grazing back and forth, praying you didn’t stop.

It took him a moment to come to terms with what had woken him from his slumber, his phone vibrating on the night stand.

Normally, he would have the phone in his hand before his eyes had even opened but this time was different.

He held a breath as you sighed, careful not to wake you. He felt the unfamiliar feeling of his heart sinking as you turned your back on him, wrapping yourself in a ball within the sheets.

He almost looked at the phone with irritation, an annoyance for disturbing the position the pair of you had been in.

Running a hand across his face, he reached over to grab the phone and harshly pressed the green button that was glaring back at him.

All he could do was mumble, hum or huff at Garcia on the other end of line.

He hadn’t even noticed that his free hand had absentmindedly fallen to your hip, caressing the smooth curve of your waist.

The smile creeping on his lips was something he struggled to ignore.

‘I’ll be right there’ he ended the call, tossing the phone into the bed and throwing his head back.

There was something that was keeping him from springing out of bed, you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #mgg x reader #mgg

445 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 11 months ago

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MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening.

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised.

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you.

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own.

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so.

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body.

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from.

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man.

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!”

“No, it’s alri–”

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat.

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out.

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help.

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there.

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help.

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment.

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop.

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help.

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you.

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult.

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back.

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those.

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice.

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!”

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet.

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else.

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting.

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this.

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to.

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness.

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head.

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along.

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation.

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist.

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you.

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again.

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier.

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily.

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice.

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier.

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him.

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate.

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry.

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably.

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him.

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive.

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him.

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public.

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow.

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather.

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours.

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside.

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you.

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen.

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else.

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic.

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing.

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future.

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good.

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana.

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had.

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery.

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips.

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement.

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies.

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second.

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery.

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit.

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him.

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms.

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal.

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention.

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you.

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white.

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one.

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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miabebe · 8 months ago

Text

Where you're convenient (II)

Scenario - Yes it was circumstances that forced these arrangements but why was it that at its breaking point, all you want to do is hold on to it?

Pairing - Husband! Seokmin × reader

Genre - smut with lots of plot, fluff fluff fluff cause there's a kid 👀, and angsty angsty pining hehe

Word Count - 11K (as usual, I apologise)

Warnings - oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (well there's babies wanted here so), riding, cum eating

A/n - part 2 is finally here! These keep getting longer idk why 😭 I'm gonna take a small break and shift attention to my series before I return for part 3 (woozi)!

P.s all 3 parts are not related, they can be read individually, they simply share the same trope of marriage of convenience which I'm an absolute sucker for 🙃 Read Joshua's here!

The moment Seokmin’s eyes fell on the entrance of the overpriced restaurant, he knew exactly why his sister insisted on this meeting.

Sighing deeply, he parked his car in a vacant lot and ran his fingers through his untamed hair, glancing at his reflection of the mirror. There was no need to look his best for this meeting, just presentable would do - after all, he was not here to impress. Grabbing the bag you handed him earlier today, he made his way in, eyes falling on his sister and her company - a pretty woman, definitely around his age since clearly, this was yet another attempt to set him up on a date.

He greeted them with his usual sweet smile before hugging his devil of a sister, whispering a bunch of obscene words in her ear which she coolly ignored, habituated to his reaction to such meetings over time. Although he was already prepared to leave, he slid across the boxes of cupcakes you made and took a seat, pulling out his phone, while his sister raved to her friend about how you made the best cupcakes in the world.

Seokmin 17:48: Just met Minseo. Should be home in an hour. Traffic's really bad.

And then his sister began her usual business of introducing her friend to him, then him to her, then mentioning how 'surprisingly' the two of them were so similar, subtly hinting how they would be so compatible.

Seokmin rolled his eyes, familiar with this drill, listening to her blabber with a struggling, polite smile. This was quite a frequent occurrence - every now and then Minseo would bring a friend or colleague to introduce them, afraid that her useless brother would die single given how uninterested he was in dating. Today's friend was Sumi, her colleague from the first ever company she worked in, who was apparently his age, recently single, also loved pizza and working out. Barely interested in the ongoing conversation, Seokmin kept glancing at his phone time and again, relieved when it finally buzzed.

You 18:04: Okay, have fun with MinSeo, tell her I said hi!

You 18:04: Also, look at this [attachment]

It was a photo of Aera, her mouth, hands and clothes covered in a light pink frosting as she laughed at the camera both innocently and mischievously.

You 18:05: I swear to god, I can't look away from her for a second.

"Are you even listening Min-ah?

Seokmin looked up at both ladies staring at him with a tinge of annoyance and turned his phone to show them the picture that was making him smile so ridiculously. Instantly, they broke out into a series of awws and little praises making his heart swell with pride. That was his daughter after all.

"Isn't she the cutest?" Sumi looked up from his phone. "She's two and a half right?"

"Actually she's 2 years and 10 months." Seokmin took back his phone, taking another look at the love of his life. "Born in May."

"A Taurus baby?"

"Gemini." He corrected. "Last week of May."

"She must be quite the troublemaker huh?"

"You have no idea." Seokmin laughed typing a reply.

Seokmin 18:08: What have you done to my sweet angel?

"Shall we order food first?" Minseo picked the menu card. "What about pizza-"

"Not for me." Seokmin shook his head. "I'm not eating. In fact, I have to leave soon."

"Min-ah, come on, you're seeing me after so long-"

"I literally saw you last week, at mum's place."

"But it's your first time meeting Sumi, don't be rude."

Seokmin turned to her friend. "I'm sorry, I would stay longer but I haven't seen my daughter all day and I'm sure there's food at home already." He glanced at his sister before turning back. "I don't know if you know, but my wife makes really good food, she's a chef."

"A pastry chef." His sister corrected. "I mean no one makes desserts better than her but you're the better cook. "

You 18:10: Angel? She's the devil spawn, this little thing.

Seokmin 18:11: Are you calling me the devil? How dare you

"Maybe," He looked up from his phone. "But I always eat dinner made by my wife."

Minseo rolled her eyes yet again, but Sumi nodded understandingly. When the two women discussed for 20 whole minutes, finally placed an order for themselves and Sumi excused herself to the washroom, Seokmin turned to his sister.

"Why won't you give up?"

"Why won't you give in?"

"Because, everyone you try to set me up with is not my type.."

"Really?" Minseo raised an eyebrow. "What about Sumi is not your type? You two are literally the same people."

"Yeah well, did you see her nails? Clearly she loves manicures and stuff like that."

His sister blinked, lost. "And that's a problem because?"

"I have a child you idiot, I can't have those claws around her?"

"So she'll stop getting them done. That should solve your issue."

"I don't want anyone to change themselves or give up on things they like because of me."

"I'm about to kick your ass Lee Seokmin." She muttered angrily. "I have tried to set you up with all kinds of women yet no one is good enough. What do you want Min-ah?"

"What do you want? Why do you keep dragging me to these-"

"Because I want to see you happy!"

"I am happy!"

"Say what you want Seokmin, that's not a happy marriage."

He sighed. "What problem do you have with Y/n?"

"With Y/n?" She looked at him perplexed. "Not one damn thing. In fact when you leave her, I might just ask her to marry me, I love that woman so much. The question is......do you?"

Seokmin blinked, not finding the words. Love? Sure he had a crush on you a couple of years ago but to be honest, nearly everyone did. He was in his final year of culinary school when he caught sight of you at the freshers party, walking in in that tight silver dress, looking like a dream. Rumor was you already had a boyfriend so Seokmin simply introduced himself and walked away, letting that little crush of his fade over time. Soon after, he successfully graduated, got a job at a Michelin star restaurant and life was good until he met you again, almost 4 years later at an alumni party.

Now, did Seokmin still have a crush on you? He didn't know really, he didn't even have the time to sort his feelings, not when you were giving him the flirtiest eyes, hands and body moving not very decently on the dance floor and especially not when you dragged him by the collar to a nearby room and the two of you fucked for hours.

"You always go silent when I ask you this Min-ah. It's a simple yes or no question."

Minseo looked expectantly at her brother who had now diverted his attention to the notification bar and time on his phone - you had still not replied to him. Panic slightly bubbled in his chest. Was something wrong?

He quickly downed the glass of water before of him and grabbed his bag.

"I'm sorry noona, I should head home. I think Y/n needs me."

Before she could reply, he dropped a kiss on her forehead and ran out to the parking, leaving his sighing sister behind. Through the glass she watched her brother rush away in his car, wondering how many more of such set ups it would take before he admitted what he felt for you.

Though Seokmin wanted to get back home as soon as possible, with all that traffic, all he could do was wait, fingers tapping on the wheel, mind getting restless. It was not like you to take so long to reply, he knew that much. Sinking back into the car seat, he glanced out at the streets that he no longer walked down ever since he became a father. The life of leisure he once lived was no longer a possibility because now he lived only for his daughter. And you.

It wasn't a part of his life plan to become a father so young but apparently, things have their own way of panning out. He was supposed to become a famous chef, open his own chain of restaurants, establish himself as a successful businessman and retire by 45. Instead, he found himself getting a phone call from an unknown number about 2 months after that fateful night of the alumni party. It was you.

It was indeed strange that you asked to meet up at your workplace considering the two of you had made it very clear to each other that this was a one time thing, but he went regardless. Over a cup of coffee and a piece of cake you broke the news that you were pregnant and the child was his. Now Seokmin knew condoms were not 100% effective but that night the two of you had used quite a few of them, given how many rounds went down.

You told him you were going to have the child and if he wanted, he could be a part of the baby's life too. Of course he wanted to, even though this entirely threw off his life plan, of course he would be a part of his child's life, there was no question. Seokmin had grown up without the presence of a father his whole life and he knew what the felt like - there was not a chance he would let that child go through the same as well. So he told you he was there for whatever you needed and however you needed him.

The first trimester was quite uneventful. Seokmin had barely seen you after that meeting in the cafe - the two of you would just keep in touch via texts. He would check up to make sure you were eating on time and that the morning sickness wasn't too much. You would simply answer his questions and thank him. But you didn't ever ask much of him.

By your second trimester, he had moved into the building across yours so he could be near you for anything you wanted and everything you needed. He helped drive you to and from your prenatal visits, did grocery runs whenever you worked too late, carried your bags and boxes up the stairs. It was all on his own though, you still had asked for any favours.

The first thing you had ever asked of him was nearly a month later, around the 7th month of your pregnancy. In the middle of a rainy night, with a small bag slung over your shoulder, you had knocked on this door, mildly drenched and shivering. Seokmin instantly panicked even though you repeatedly assured him you were alright. The problem was your dick of an ex boyfriend, constantly knocking down your front door leaving you no choice but to take the fire escape and come here. That man had been behind you for months, insisting you take him back into your life, not taking no for an answer. His persistence had forced you to even change homes and numbers over the last year but now somehow, he had managed to find you again. You asked if you could stay here for a day or two till he stopped bothering you and Seokmin immediately agreed. He had no idea you were going through all this.

One day turned to two and two became a week. Seokmin had now began accompanying you almost everywhere, constantly keeping an eye on your surroundings and it was a miracle he hadn't landed a punch on that slime ball of an ex of yours. That man would harass and embarrass you publicly, he would turn up drunk at the doorstep and create a scene, throwing up and passing out, he would follow you to your workplace and just sit in the store hours on end. Things became exponentially worse when he found out that you and Seokmin were not in fact in a relationship, just expecting a child together - he went ballistic with his attempts to get you back.

Panic rose in Seokmins chest just thinking about those days years ago, hoping to god everything was fine at home. He glanced at his phone again as he parked his car and rushed out, bolting up the stairs, unable to wait for the lift. When he opened the door of his apartment, toys and books and things were scattered everywhere, in the middle of the living room, a bunch of disorganised chairs and sheets haphazardly thrown around.

Seokmin slowly and quietly approached the mess pushing everything aside, heart racing in his chest, thoughts plaguing his mind till he spotted you and his little girl, fast asleep in what was clearly a blanket fort, making him sigh in relief. Your phone was lying next to you and Aera was lying on top, head snuggled in your chest, raising and falling rhythmically. You looked so beautiful tired, sleeping with your hair askew and mouth slightly open - seeing the mess all around, Seokmin knew it must have been one of Aera's uncontrollably active days. He smiled at the way your arm protectively wrapped around her and how she clung onto you - watching the two of you together was always his favourite thing to do. But he knew it must hurt to carry her weight on top for so long so he slowly crouched and quietly tried to take his daughter into his arms but the moment he lifted her-

"Daddy!"

Seokmin laughed as his girl, now somehow fully awake, began excitedly moving in his arms in a little dance to welcome him home, giggling away. He stood up, hugging her back and peppering her tiny face with kisses as she proceeded to sing loudly in joy. (She truly did take after him.) He watched her amused, trying to make out what in the world she was saying, when you let out a soft groan, making him turn. As you stretched awake, yawning and sighing, eyes slowly fluttering open, flashing him a sleepy smile, Seokmin felt his heart flip in his chest.

"Why, why, why doesn't your daughter sleep Mr. Lee?"

He chuckled. "I think she takes after you Ms. L/n."

"Oh no no, I was always the obedient child in the house. Your sister told me you were the troublemaker."

"You're calling this cutie a troublemaker?" Seokmin scrunched the cheeks of his daughter earning the cutest laugh. "She looks like the best baby in the world to me."

You sighed, getting up and rubbing soft circles her tummy.

"You're always gonna be daddy's baby girl aren't you?"

You could too if you want to.

Seokmin ignored his stupid mind voice and glanced at your tired self, slightly worried. "How was your day?"

"Decent." You smiled. "I was working on orders in the morning - there was a baby shower I had to cater for in the afternoon. I swear, I stepped out into the balcony to take a call for literally 5 minutes and your 'best' baby here had lathered herself in all the frosting I made. Then I had to sit make another batch while while the sugar turned your daughter into a hyperactive destruction machine. She didn't even sleep in the afternoon and I had just managed to get her to sleep when..."

"Sorry." Seokmin gushed sheepishly. "I thought I was helping-"

"No, no that's okay, she needs to bathe and eat anyways. Better you wake her up, she gets all cranky otherwise."

Seokmin dropped a sweet kiss on his child's cheek as she continued to search for something in his ear lobe with utmost seriousness.

"How was your day? How's Minseo?"

"Oh same old, just complaining about her kids and mom, the usual." He didn't need you to know the exact details of what happened. Not when it didn't matter to him anyways. "She said she had dinner prepared at home so we didn't really eat anything."

"Oh no, you must be so hungry? I have a few orders to pack for tomorrow, let me quickly finish that up, then we can do dinner yeah?"

Seokmin nodded as you walked away to the kitchen, sleep barely shaken away.

The good thing about Seokmin's apartment was the large pantry, which when you first came to this house was merely a storeroom but over time, it had become your working station. After you had graduated, given your sweet tooth, you had traveled around, meeting different chefs, taking small courses and mastered the art of dessert making. Not only did that trip help get away from and over your ex boyfriend but it had also solidified your skill set as a pâtissier. After coming back to Seoul, an old senior and friend had contacted you, offering you a job in her bakery cafe till you worked on your own business plan and all was going well till that alumni party.

Sure, when Seokmin introduced himself to you in your freshmen year you thought he was possibly the most gorgeous person you'd ever laid your eyes on. He didn't seem too interested in you and that was fine, given you were already in a relationship with your high school boyfriend. Meeting him again, so many years later, finding out he had gotten oh so much hotter and having suffered a dry spell for so long, you had managed to somehow get into his pants for what was the best night you had ever had. You had quite literally fucked him out of your mind, and were happily moving on with your life when the news of the pregnancy hit.

You did go to work in the initial months but as the third trimester approached, it was hard to balance your well being and the strain that came from working. Your boss was kind enough to let you keep your job and that's how for the last 2 odd years, you found yourself working from home, only preparing and delivering on custom orders the shop received, allowing you to keep both your passion alive and make decent money.

"I was going to give Aera a bath-"

"Okay!"

"-but the neighbour's kids want to take her downstairs to play."

Normally, you wouldn't let her go down when it was late and dark outside but she needed to get that sugar out of her system and you needed to be alone with Seokmin for a bit. There was something you wanted to talk to him for a while now.

The giggles of your daughter faded in the background as Seokmin walked into the kitchen, pulling out a tub of something from his bag.

"I'm going to make the best ravioli you've ever had for dinner."

You smiled watching him wash up and put on an apron, getting ready to bustle away in the kitchen. You loved watching Seokmin cook - there was something so elegant and attractive about how well he navigated around while cooking, smoothly chopping and stirring away. He never let you make dinner. Though he slogged in the kitchen restaurant from day break till the evening cooking away, Seokmin never let you cook when he was home. He'd say you didn't have to worry about it when he was there. Actually, as long as he was around, you never worried about anything.

You didn't think there would come a point where Seokmin would become your partner for life but here you are. Years ago, when your ex was tormenting you, you had contemplated just moving out of the city but it was Seokmin who held your hand and asked you to face him bravely. You did, you really tried, but it didn't matter when the other man was such a terrible pain in the ass - nothing changed. It was then that Seokmin’s mother suggested that the two of you get married, hoping that would settle things once and for all but you refused.

As idealistic as that seemed, it was never your intention to bind Seokmin with you in such a permanent relationship but he didn't seem to think so. If a marriage was what it would take to keep his child safe, he was willing to do it. It took a few more months, a few more threats from your ex and a reasonable suggestion from your sister for you to finally agree to it. Within a few days the two of you were married with a set of promises said out loud and a set of them silently agreed upon

One, this would be an open marriage - two of you were free to see and be with other people and two, 3 years later, you would reassess where this relationship stood and what it's future would be.

You had agreed on this arrangement for Seokmin more than for yourself. Once you gave birth, you knew you'd be busy with your child and work, but you didn't want Seokmin to feel trapped because of one night's decision. True enough, after Aera came along, you didn't even have the time to look at another man, forget thinking about one. Sometimes you wondered if Seokmin found someone but from the intel that had reached you, it didn't seem like he had. He'd always come home immediately after work, he didn't usually go out anywhere on the weekends, his friends always complained to you that they never saw him around - Seokmin spent every breathing minute he had free with his daughter.

You glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall beside Seokmin for the nth time this month, noting each day that your wedding anniversary was approaching. It would soon be time to reevaluate your marriage with him but if you didn't find anyone and if he didn't find anyone, you wondered what he thought about your idea. One that you had been nurturing for a while now.....

Seokmin could feel your eyes burning into his back and knew you wanted to say something. By the time he walked into the kitchen you were already done with your orders which meant the last 20 minutes he spent cooking, you were simply lost in thought about something. Something Seokmin had a feeling he knew.

Ever since a month ago, when the restraining order against your ex was finally approved and the threat on you had been lifted, Seokmin had a gnawing feeling about the future of this relationship. You were not interested in a marriage to begin with, now you didn't have a reason to continue in it either. That could only mean one thing - you were going to leave him. The time had come.

Seokmin held his breath as you approached him,

"Seokmin, I was thinking...."

Please don't say you wanna leave me. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

"It's been almost 3 years since we've gotten married and had Aera. She's not all grown up yet, but she's grown up quite a bit and....."

Please. Please. Please.

"I was thinking maybe it's time we...."

Seokmin took a deep breath preparing himself. This was it.

"Get a cat or something?"

Seokmin turned to you surprised. "A what?"

"A cat, or a dog if you prefer that, any pet actually."

"So you're not leaving me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean" Seokmin mentally smacked himself, rambling to his defence. "You're.... leaving that decision to me? To get a pet? Why? I mean why a pet, I mean why so suddenly?"

You sighed, leaning against the counter. "Aera constantly needs me around because she gets bored. She's young, she needs company and I'm hoping a pet can give her that? I mean obviously the better option would be if we.... I mean if she....."

Seokmin looked at you confused. "If she?"

Well, fingers crossed, here we go.

"I don't know, could have a sibling? Kids need company to grow up and I think it would be nice if Aera could have a little brother or sister....."

Seokmin stared at you, his expression unreadable before his voice softened, leaving him uncertain. "Do you really want that? Another child?"

"I think I'm ready for another one?..... if you want one that is." You add quickly. "I don't want you to feel compelled or anything. We can still just get a pet-"

"No..." Seokmin shook his head, clearing his throat before continuing. "I don't mind. I don't mind having another child. It's just....I don't know how complicated the adoption process is-"

"Oh." You scratched the back of your neck. This conversation was a lot harder than you had anticipated. "I wasn't thinking about adoption actually..... I mean it's great and everything but I was thinking more of a child of my own..... our child."

Seokmin blinked rapidly. "O-ours?"

"I mean we already have one together, I think it'll be a lot less complicated if I were to have another one that.....you be the father?"

That would not make anything less complicated.

"Your silence is scaring me Seokmin. There's no compulsion, it's only if you want. I might be the one giving birth but your preference matters too. If you don't want this then we'll just forget this conversation ever happened."

It was ridiculous you thought he might not want a future, a bigger family with you when he had been dreaming of this for the last 3 years.

"I love Aera more than anything in this world. If I could have another child that's part me, especially if it'll make Aera happy, of course I'd want that. It's just...."

"What?"

"How...." He refused to meet your questioning eyes. "How are you and supposed to.....you know?"

"Oh." Of course there would be a discussion about the process and of course you're flushed a violent shade of pink. "I uh looked into that, there's a few fertility clinics here that do a procedure called IUI, intrauterine insemination or something like that, basically it's an artificial process of.....sex?"

"Ah....." He nods slowly. "That sounds-"

You wanted to know what he's thinking, you wanted to know what he wanted but the doorbell rang, pulling you away from the conversation. Knowing the delivery person was here for today's orders you quickly excused yourself and turned your attention to your work, bringing out the orders, taking them down to load the van. By the time you're done and ready to listen to him again, Seokmin has already finished up in the kitchen and has his eyes glued to his phone.

He didn't acknowledge your presence, which is rather odd because Seokmin is always so reactive to you. Realising that he was perhaps not comfortable or in a disagreement with the discussion, you decided to end it and not being it up anymore. Instead, you resorted to cleaning up the mess in the living room, pointlessly might I add, for within minutes, your daughter came barging in, done with her playtime, ready to make a mess again. Before she could topple over the box of toys, Seokmin appeared out of nowhere, swooping her into this arms, protecting your just cleaned zone. He flashed you a smile, continuing to play a game of Aera-plane with her as you hugged your knees and watched them.

Seokmin was a great father and that was the reason you wanted to have another child with him. That and the fact that he was also a great person - one could scour the whole earth and not find a man even half as good as him. Though you had entered this marriage with the idea that it could end anytime, with each passing day, that turned into a strange fear - a fear of him leaving you, especially now that you and Aera were no longer in danger. When even your marriage could not keep your ex away from you, Seokmin decided to take things in a legal direction to finally get him out of the way. Now that all of that was successfully done, the number of things binding this marriage had reduced.

When you discussed the idea of having another baby with your sister, she asked if this was an attempt to add to the list of reasons keeping this marriage together. Oh hell no. If anything it was the exact opposite. Having another child with Seokmin would only lead to one thing - you falling in love with him all over again and him not feeling the same for you yet again. It would make ending this relationship, whenever the time came for it, that much harder. But you knew for Aera this decision made sense - it was only for her sake.

Seokmin and Aera had now switched to the game of Aera-train, the two of them crawling all around the space on their knees, making you laugh at their antics. You grabbed your little girl and pulled her into your lap, smothering her cute face with kisses as she wriggled in your grip. Exhausted, Seokmin lied down beside you, mouthing a thank you.

"How much more playtime is it going to take before you burn all that sugar missy?"

"Hide and seek!" Aera clapped, still not understanding how exhausted the two of you were. "You and daddy hide, I count."

"Aera, you need to shower-"

Not listening, she slipped out of your lap, plastering herself against at wall, closing her eyes.

"One, two-"

"Sweetheart-"

"Seven, ten, twelve-"

Seokmin looked up. "Who the hell is teaching her numbers?"

"Thirty, forty-"

Laughing you quickly pulled Seokmin to his feet, the two of your scrambling to find a place to hide and in the hurry, settling in the tiny gap between the closet and the bathroom, bodies pressed against each other. As the laughter faded, you realised just how close you were, faces inches apart, breath held and heart racing.

Hearts.

With your hands pressed against his pecs, you could feel his racing too.

"Should have hidden in different places huh" Seokmin whispered, earning a short nod from you.

"It's too late. We're stuck, I guess."

Seokmin couldn't tell what exactly you were talking about, somehow it's different. You gulped the phantom lump in your throat, trying to look away but there's only so much you could look at around you. When you looked at him again, he was lost in thought.

"What are you thinking?"

"I uh." Seokmin cleared his throat. "I was reading up about this Intra- thing."

Oh. So the conversation wasn't done. "Uh huh."

"It's expensive."

"Yeah it is...." You had already done all the research for it of course. "Which sucks because it doesn't have a very high chance of success either."

"Not to mention, it requires many tests and appointments."

"Yeah, it would interrupt with both our work schedules too."

"Exactly.....so I'm not sure if it's really the best option for us?"

You looked at him straight in the eye. What was going on in his head? Why was a completely wild thought entering your head?

You nodded slowly. "Maybe we should look into the alternatives. Try and do a little more research?"

"And find an option that's affordable, efficient, and not very time consuming."

"That would be ideal.....I wonder what that could be."

Both of you knew what it could be. Both of you knew exactly what it could be.

"The only way I can think of is," You tried not to let your voice shake. "The way everyone usually does this...."

Seokmin frowned, "There are other ways?"

How could a man this fine be this stupid?

"The way we already made a child Seokmin."

Just the memory of that night sends blood rushing down Seokmin’s body. That was not an event of loving baby making.

"You want to do t-that again?"

Your stomach literally wanted to hurl its contents. "Do you?"

"I mean," He could feel the sweat drip down the groove of his back. "If that's the best way to have another child. It does seem like the practical, logical, reasonable choice."

"Yeah..." You met his eyes, hoping to god he could tell you were lying. "That's the only reason why...."

The thick, unresolved tension makes you shiver, prompting you to shift in the space, and Seokmin's arms immediately grabbed you at the waist to keep you steady - he was terrified that the secret in his pants would expose him for what he truly was.....absolutely and fatally, gone for you.

If you had ever given him even the slightest indication that you wanted him, Seokmin knew for a fact that he would have given you a whole lot of babies by now - there was nothing more he wanted than a life and a family with you. But you only ever smiled at him sweetly, never letting on anything further and Seokmin was okay with that too. He was okay with whatever you wanted. Now you wanted him to put another baby in you and he had no idea how he was going to stay sane doing that. Or after that.

"Speaking of which...." You pulled away from him, looking concerned. "Where's the child we already made?"

It had to have been a while by now and Aera was usually much better than this at hide and seek, making the two of you panic and rush out of your hiding space, calling out to her. In less than a minute, Seokmin found her curled up in the couch fast asleep, snoring away.

You groaned. "She hasn't showered or eaten-"

"Shh, it's okay." Seokmin crouched beside her, attempting to carry her to her bed. "We can just-"

"Caught you!"

Much to Seokmin's disappointment, your daughter jumped out of the couch, kicking her feet, ecstatic that she had him fooled. You covered your mouth so Seokmin could not see you struggling to hold back your laughter as Aera ran around chanting, caught you, caught you.

"Well isn't she a smartass." You noted, trying to soothe his annoyance.

"Yeah, we need to stop letting her hang out with Yoon Jeonghan." He muttered as he picked up his running daughter, seating her on the side of his hip, squeezing her cheeks. "And I caught you so now playtime is over. It's shower time, you little pig."

Aera whined, trying to reach for you to save her and you stepped back. "No, no, you've done enough today. You've to sleep soon-"

"Not sleepy." She groaned, snuggling her head into Seokmin’s neck, as he walked away, shaking his head.

"You're not gonna let mommy and daddy sleep tonight are you?"

You froze in the middle of the hall hearing his words.

Tonight?

You were not really sure what came over you when you suggested having sex again to make another baby. Maybe it was the proximity of the space or the fact that he was already so on board with the idea or just because you've been wanting to jump this man for 3 years now. You don't really know. You didn't know how you were even going to sleep with him just one more time. Or how to handle things after that. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

Of course it was a terrible idea. And it was only further proven when you grabbed Aera's night clothes and walked into the bathroom to find both father and daughter settled in the bathtub, engaged in a waterfight, making you raise your eye brows in question.

"She put water all over me!" Seokmin justified as Aera covered her face in soap bubbles, hiding from you. "It's not my fault, she insisted I get in with her."

Yes but why did he have to take his shirt off for that? And why did your eyes have to follow those little rivets of water running down his bicep and chest? You tore your gaze away from him and quickly pulled your child out of the tub, and the moment you set her down, she giggled and bolted, making you sigh.

"I'm banning sugar in this house." Seokmin laughed.

"She usually gets sleepy after a meal." You threw him a towel too and looked away as he caught it. "Shouldn't disturb us too much tonight."

Seokmin stared at you as you left. Tonight?

You wanted to do this tonight? Hell no. He needed time. He needed to convince himself to not let this one time raises his hopes, to not let himself fall more miserably in love with you. How was he ever going to do that? Everything you did only made him that much more whipped for you. Even now, after he washed himself up and walked out, he saw you softly drying Aera's hair, singing her favourite song, and leaned against the door frame, smiling fondly. Just the thought of another child, part you part him, running across this space made his heart swell with joy. He really wanted that.

When you meet his eye and smiled, he returned it, ignoring his racing heart and walked off to heat the sauces for dinner - a non spicy one for Aera and another spicy one for the two of you. Your eyes followed him, noticing that he had donned a new pair of grey sweatpants which were hanging low on his hips, coupled with a white tank top that was doing a terrible job of hiding his pecs. God this man wanted to end you.

By the time you put Aera in her baby chair, he had already set everything on the table and true to his word it is the best damn ravioli in the world. You told him that and that was all the conversation that took place - dinner was unusually silent. Maybe because the both of you had the same set of thoughts running through your minds, both apprehensive about what would go down in the coming few hours. Even Aera had noticed the silence, her head turning between the two of you, her expression confused all through dinner. Yawning, she watched her parents awkwardly move around each other in the kitchen, even more polite and formal than they usually were as they cleaned it up.

You left Seokmin to put Aera to sleep as you headed to the shower to wash up for the night. Staring at the mirror, you stripped out of your clothes, observing everything that had changed over the last three years - you hadn't really cared for the post pregnancy effects on your body but somehow today you were feeling conscious. Taking a deep breath you convinced yourself that it was fine - that this was a one time thing anyways, that this was just to procreate, nothing else. Still, you quickly shaved yourself, used your best smelling soap and wore a new night suit - a pink one, with tiny flowers all over the shirt and shorts.

By the time you returned, Seokmin had already put Aera to sleep and settled in front of the TV, ready to play the next episode of masterchef, the one show the two of you being professionals thoroughly enjoyed. You wondered if you has misread his statement and had unnecessarily readied yourself for tonight and contemplated changing into something different when Seokmin sensed your presence behind him and asked you to hurry up. Biting your lip out of embarrassment, you walked over and settled down on the other end of the couch where you usually sat, not noticing the way his eyes trailed down your body before gulping and looking away.

"You're wearing a new night suit." He observed, avoiding mentioning that he also noticed you smelt different than usual - sweeter, more addicting.

"You're wearing a new track pant too." You added so it didn't seem like you were the only one who was prepared for tonight.

"I.... didn't really notice. Just grabbed the first thing I could find and..." Lies. Pure lies. Seokmin deliberately wore the most loose sweatpants he could find hoping to god it would hide the raging boner he was housing between his legs. Even though he had already jerked off prior to showering to avoid being caught, he knew just the thought of what might happen tonight was enough to bring it back and sure enough, just your scent was enough to do that. He pulled a pillow onto his lap, starting the episode to divert the topic.

As the show continued, the two of you did your usual drill of discussing the recipes, how you'd do it differently and what he'd change to improve it. The thought hadn't stopped running in the back of your mind though, about whether tonight was indeed the night. About who was going to bring it up, how you were going to do....it.

"That guy, he's got a great future as a pâtissier." Seokmin pointed at the screen. "If he ever opens a shop, I bet his dessert will be some of the most in demand in the city." He turned to you smiling. "Unless you enter the business. Then nobody stands a chance."

You laughed a little sadder than you intended to. "Having my own business feels like a once upon a dream now. With Aera now, I'm not sure how I can handle a whole business by myself-"

"Of course you won't be by yourself. I'll be there, with you, for you." He tilted his head. "Always."

"You've always wanted to have a restaurant of your own too. What about your dream?"

"I'm already working in one of the best restaurants in the city. I'm living half of it already. I wish you could live yours too."

How did he always place you before him? Why was he always so good to you?

You turned to face him, leaning against the armrest. "What if we both had one dream? We could open a small business of our own which could feature both my desserts and your food."

"That would work." Seokmin nodded. "But it would require an extensive kitchen, we both need a ton of very different equipment, a lot more investment and time on our hands too. I mean if both of us are busy, with not fixed working hours, who'll take care of the kid?" He paused for a moment before reminding himself and you. "Kids."

Your heart felt like it was in your mouth.

"If they're of school going age, it shouldn't be so hard to handle should it?"

He mirrored your posture, more interested in the prospect now that it seemed possible and you continued.

"I wanted to have my own shop by the time I was 30, which means we have another 6 years for that. Aera will start going to school when she's 5, so there's another 2 years for that."

"Which means if we want our second child to also be of school going age by that time then we should have one by....." Seokmin did the math on his fingers. "Early next year."

You nodded, doing math of your own. "Given it will take 9 months to get one out, it means I have to get pregnant by latest...."

"March." Seokmin concluded, staring at his hands. "Which is this month."

Fuck.

"And given the best time to get pregnant is when I'm most fertile and that's..." You glanced at the date on your phone screen and looked up at him just as he lifted his head. "Now."

The two of you stared at each other in the silence as the end credits of the episode rolled on the screen, the next one waiting to be played.

"Is..." Seokmin took a deep breath. "Is that the future you really want? Running a business together, having 2 kids.... us?"

You really really really wanted that.

You nodded slowly. "If you want it too."

Seokmin took a whole minute to stare at the floor before turning off the TV, submerging the two of you in the dimness of the night lights.

"I do." He tossed the remote aside, slowly meeting your eye. "So, we do this.... right now?"

You glanced around the house. "Well, we are done for the day. All we have left to do is head to bed....."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was really happening?

"Wait," Seokmin panicked. "I don't have any condoms, I'll need to buy-."

"Lee Seokmin."

Oh no. "Yeah?" Had he messed up already? Did you not want to any more?

"We're trying to have a baby."

"I know....." and when the realisation hit, Seokmin felt all the blood leave his brain and shoot straight to his dick.

"So I..... so we're....I'm gonna do this raw?"

You looked at him, just a little amused. "That's kinda how getting pregnant works."

"What if you don't get pregnant?"

"Considering I got pregnant even when we did it with condoms, I don't know if that's going to be such a huge problem."

"Things don't always work out the same right? What if you don't get pregnant?"

"Then....we're going to have to do this till I get pregnant."

"This as in I...." Seokmin held his breath. "We have sex raw and...."

Your stomach flipped inside you. "And you come inside me, yes"

"I'm gonna fucking die." He muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

He looked at your confused face, having not heard him. If you were going to let him re-live this, you deserved it too.

"Well, we have to do this right."

"What right?"

Seokmin ran his hand through his hair knowing he was digging his own grave with this.

"Come here." He tossed the pillow aside and held his hand out, pulling you closer as you took it, guiding you to straddle his lap. Both of you let out a soft groan as you felt his hard length under you and he could feel how soaked you were, through both your shorts and his pants.

"I know we're doing this to get you pregnant but when was the last time you...." slept with someone.

"With you." You confessed. "3 years ago."

Seokmin nodded slowly. "Then it's only right I make sure you feel good."

"What about you?" You stared at his collar bone instead, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his tank top, wondering what the answer would be. Dreading what it would be.

"With you."

You looked up a little surprised. "You didn't see anyone else? In 3 years?"

"You didn't either."

"I didn't have the time."

"And I didn't have the need." He looked at you so earnestly, you wanted to bury this man in you and never let him go. "I'm happy with my life. I'm happy with Aera, I'm...." He smiled softly. "I'm happy with you. I'm not seeking anything else."

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb across the bone. How did you get so lucky?

"Seokmin." He hummed as you let your hands wrap around his neck. "Hurry up and put a baby inside me."

Groaning, he hooked his hands under your thighs, lifting you into his arms with surprising ease. Moving to the room with soft footfall and gently dropping you onto the bed, he watched as looked at him, pupils blown, reminding him of that night all those years ago. Fuck he really wanted to be inside you.

"Move back." He tapped your leg, clambering on the bed slowly as you obeyed, scooting behind, letting him slide his fingers between the elastic of your shorts. "Up."

As you raised your hips, he pulled down both your shorts and your panties in one go, leaving you feeling both strangely exposed and admired.

"You didn't have to." He muttered and you know he's talking about you shaving as he ran his hands up and down your thighs softly, before meeting your eye. "You're unbelievably beautiful, no matter what." A shiver ran down your spine as he leaned to drop a small kiss on your belly.

"Seokmin please..." You whined, pulling him up, unable to take the wait anymore. "Please just...."

"You don't have to beg sweetheart." He dropped another kiss on your forehead, then your jaw. "Let me make you feel good first, then I'll fill you up." His finger slipped between your soaked folds. "....and then again, just to be sure."

You let out the most unholy moan as his words shot straight to your core and his fingers easily found your clit, drawing soft circles, driving you insane in all ways possible. Seokmin looked at you with the softest eyes, laced with a hint of undeniable desire, like he was craving you. "Is it okay if I go down on you?"

Okay? It took all the sanity left in you to nod slowly, like you weren't eagerly throbbing just at the thought of it.

As you propped yourself on your elbows, he slowly slid down between your legs, pulling them over this shoulders, holding back a groan at the sight of the wet mess you'd made - you were dripping and he revelled in it. Eyes still locked with yours, his tongue ran up your folds, making you grip the sheets below, mouth falling open in a not so silent sigh. Fuck you hadn't been touched properly in so long and the fact that it was Seokmin again of all people was making it so much better. You'd been wanting him for way too long now.

"You need to keep it down baby." It took everything in you to turn the moan that left you into a whimper. How on earth were you supposed to that when he was saying such things??? "Our daughter is asleep next door."

You nod hurriedly, lacing your hand through his thick hair, as he went down on your again, smiling against your skin. He knew you needed him, badly, and God he wanted you so much too, he wanted you in entirely.

His nose brushed against your clit, making you almost writhe at the overstimulation, stopped only by the tight grip of his hands around your thighs. Unable to grab much of the sheets with your free hand, you slid it under your shirt, grabbing a boob, squeezing it pathetically as Seokmin watched you, nearly cumming in his pants. Maybe one day he would admit this out loud, but the first year after Aera was born, watching you feed her with your breasts spilling out of your bra always drove him certifiably insane. As pathetic as it sounded, he was jealous of his months old daughter but now..... Seokmin slid his hand up your body, feeling how perfectly your free breast filled his hand, the moan he let go against your clit vibrating through your body, pulling out the sexiest gasp he'd ever heard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you were going to be the end of him.

"More." You moaned, pushing your hips up, desperate to be filled. "Seokmin, just a little more-"

And that's when letting go his ministrations on your boob, he brought his hand back down to your entrance, pushing a finger in. And then another. And God, though you were throbbing and practically dying to be filled, the intrusion sent the pain of the stretch shooting up you, making you wince and grab all you had your hands on a lot tighter. Sensing your discomfort, Seokmin stopped immediately, raising himself up, his face hovering over yours, concerned.

"Did I hurt you?" He hadn't touched you in so long, honestly he had no idea how to touch you either - what you liked, what you wanted, he didn't have a clue. He'll learn, he swears if you let him, he'd memorise every small detail, every single sign.

"Just...." You panted, feeling the pain ebb into pleasure. "No, no, you didn't, please don't stop."

Obeying, Seokmin instantly began pumping his fingers, still watching you closely. Under his gaze you felt so exposed, like if he looked a little deeper into your eyes he would see the unbelievable amount of love you had for him. Would that be such a bad thing though?.....

Fisting the material of his tank top, you pulled him down, pressing your forehead against his, letting your moans spill right into his ears. Chest swelling with pride, Seokmin picked up the pace, alternating between scissoring you open and pushing his fingers knuckle deep. Lord why was he so good at this?

Seokmin watched as your breaths got shallow and quick, knowing you were nearly there and brushed his thumb over your clit with just enough pressure to push you over the edge. Back arching off the bed, you clenched around him, feeling wave after wave of pleasure erupt across your being as though every nerve in your body was set on fire. Seokmin stopped but did not pull out, eyes fixed on the way you were a panting mess under him, still struggling to ground yourself.

"That...." You focused your vision on him, a slight smile dancing your lips. "That was fucking good."

"Hmm language." Seokmin laughed, finally and unfortunately pulling his fingers out leaving you empty and wanting. You turned to him as he buried his elbow into the mattress beside your face, propping his head on his hand, glancing down at you. You looked at him and he looked at you, blinking slowly, letting so many unsaid things pass in the silence. Bringing your hand up, you traced the outline of his features with a strange sadness that when all this was over there was going to be distance between the two of you again.

Seokmin needed you to stop that. He needed you stop looking at him, to stop touching him like that, there was only so much he could control himself. He knew he wouldn't get this chance over and over again and he wanted to make it count as much as possible. For you and for him.

"Didn't actually get to eat you out." He muttered in your ear, running his fingers between folds, gathering your release, spreading it around your throbbing hole. "Wanna make you come on my tongue."

To his momentary disappointment, you shook your head. "Some other time." What? "Right now I need you to get inside me."

"Just one-"

He stuttered to a stop when you ran your hand down his torso, palming his erection, it's thickness literally making you salivate. God you wanted him in your mouth so bad but you needed him inside you a lot more desperately. You had slept with him him before, you knew he felt like heaven and you had waited long enough.

"Seokmin please." You squeezed his length, earning a low growl from him. "I want that baby. I really want it." When he moved, hovering over you once again, palms planted beside you, you didn't even realise the words that left you. "I really want you."

Seokmins eyes widened, processing your words, but that was before you clawed the material of his tank top on his back, making him sit up and strip out if it in a flash. He didn't have it in him to get out of the bed and step put of his track pants, opting to pull his length out of them instead, stroking it, spreading his precum all over it. He watched your eyes fixed on his movements, mouth slight open, before you blinked up at him, sighing like you couldn't wait. Mirroring your desperation, Seokmin slowly pushed himself into you, slipping in with a satisfying ease, bottoming out with a groan. Your nails raked his bare back, struggling to ground yourself as he filled that emptiness in you oh so well.

"Move." You moaned, adding a please at the end as though he wouldn't happily bury himself in you again and again. Though he needed a minute. He needed to memorise the feeling of you so warm and tight around him. Fuck you were a dream.

When you whimpered his name again he finally started moving, pulling back a little and pushing himself all the way in again and again. You slid your hands up, hooking them onto his shoulders, feeling every bit of him inside you, walls throbbing with every drag against it. It took everything in Seokmin to not empty himself entirely in you when you clenched around him, slowly approaching your high.

"A little longer." He pleaded. He didn't want this to end yet. "Hang in there a little longer for me beautiful. Come with me."

Then maybe he should have shut his mouth. His words had your heart racing as you felt that familiar build up in you, the one that has your toes curling. Seokmin knew you were going to come soon with the way your kept fluttering around him, squeezing and releasing him in a way that was testing his sanity.

"Shit." He muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pulling your leg, guiding it towards his waist, making you wrap both of them around him, his length reaching spots you didn't even know were possible. It only took a few more strokes of increasing speed before you felt that knot tightening in you rapidly unravel, pushing wave after wave of please coursing through your body, literally blinding you for a minute there.

By the time you regained your composure Seokmin was still in the same position, buried deep inside you, his breath softly caressing the skin of your neck, face hidden from you. You slowly ran your hands up and down his back, letting him know you were okay. In fact you were better than okay, something told you if he fucked you a little longer you would fall apart around him all over again.

"Go on." You tightened your legs around his waist, feeling how he was still so painfully hard inside you. "Do it Seokmin, come inside me."

To your surprise, you felt him sigh, as he attempted to pull out but remained unsuccessful given the way you had locked him against you.

"What's wrong?" You could feel your heart thump in your chest at his uncertainty.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Oh no. "Of course."

Please don't end this.

"I....."

Please don't say you don't want this.

"I don't want you to get pregnant again."

The way you immediately let him go makes him quickly pull up, his eyes meeting yours which look devastated. Was all he wanted just sex?

"Yet!" He added hurriedly, panicking at your misinterpretation. "I don't want you to get pregnant again yet. Not that I don't want to have another child with you, God no, there's nothing I want more, just....." He gulped looking away. "Not yet."

His words don't offer you much comfort.

"Why not?" You whispered, terrified of where this conversation was going. "I thought we both thought the timing was right...."

"It is. Its absolutely right. It makes absolute sense. It's just..." Did us making this future together not make sense? "I don't know what this is going to make you think of me but I can't keep pretending anymore. It's going to sound incredibly selfish of me but...."

Please please please don't say you don't want me anymore.

"I want you." You looked at him surprised. "I want you entirely. I don't want you to just be the mother of my children, I want you to be my woman. Mine." He sighed, refusing to meet your eye, terrified to learn what you think of him. "If you get pregnant now, it'll be another few months of dealing with the pregnancy, then the baby and I love the thought of that, god I really do, but a part of me just wants you to myself for a while. To have you as my wife, as a partner, to make love to you again and again and-"

"Wait." You stopped him, unable to take the weight of his words. Did this mean he.... "Look at me." You held his face in both your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. God, if only you both had just a little more courage, this could've happened years ago. But clearly, it was still not too late.

"Seokmin."

"Hmm."

"I love you."

Your husband's eyes widened with a whole range of emotions. "Y-you do?"

"Fuck Seokmin, I love you so much. I've been in love with you for so long. How could I not? There's not a thing about you that doesn't make my soul crave for you. I just thought I was a burden, a responsibility you had no choice but to fulfill-"

"No choice?" Seokmin looked at you incredulously. "You are who I would pick over and over and over again, till my last breath, God I love you so much it drives me insane-"

Before he can say anything more you pulled him down into what you realised was your first ever kiss, and he immediately kissed you back, like he wanted this more than he needed to breathe. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer like you couldn't bear to part from him as his hands found your waist, pressing you against him. You didn't want to stop, neither did he, until he pulled away, burying his face in your neck, holding you in a tight hug, one that felt so complete and made you realise how perfectly they two of you fit against each other. And that this entire time Seokmin was still inside you, waiting to finish. As you involuntary clenched around him, Seokmin groaned in your ear.

"Lie on your back."

He pulled back at your words, raising an eyebrow. You gently pushed him off you, his back hitting the mattress.

"Off." You patted his pants, and he quickly lifted hips and kicked it off just before you swung your legs around his waist, straddling him. Seokmin let out a low whistle, slightly smiling at the sight of you above him. You ran your hands down his pecs to his abs as he tucked an arm under his head, watching you.

"Hey."

You hummed in response, tilting your head at him.

"I love you." He looked at you earnestly. "I really really do."

"I love you too." You confessed again, leaning down to drop him a quick kiss, your hand wrapping around his length. "But right now, let me make you come big boy."

Seokmin somehow felt himself get more hard, if that was even possible, as you pumped his length in your hand a few times before raising yourself and aligning it against your entrance, slowly sinking down on it. As your mouth dropped open in a silent sigh feeling him fill both your body and your heart, Seokmin moaned, his free hand running up your thigh. Rocking your hips, slowly readjusting to his thickness, you threw your head back, baring your neck in a way that made Seokmin's mouth water. As he tried to bring his hand up to strip you of your shirt, you beat him to it, slowly unbuttoning it and sliding it off your shoulders, allowing Seokmin to sit up and wrap his mouth around your breast. You ran your hand up the nape of his neck, relishing the way his tongue swirled around your nipple, wondering how in the world the two of you managed to keep your hands off each other all these years. You didn't think you could do more than a while without this man's touch from now.

Pulling him from you, you pushed him back once more, holding onto his shoulders for support as you began moving your hips up and down his length. Seokmin cursed under his breath as he gripped the flesh of your ass, guiding your movements. Honestly, he didn't even need you to ride him to finish, just the look on your face, the perfect combination of love and lust, flushed red, slightly shining with sweat, fuck that was enough for him. He held on for as long as he could, hating the idea of not being in you anymore, but when you bit your lower lip, eyes hooded, he couldn't stop himself anymore.

"Fuck, I'm cumming."

To his surprise you immediately pulled yourself off him, stroking his dick in your hand, as he finally lost it, his cum splaying all over his abs and your stomach. He looked at you eyebrows raised as you, collected his cum with a finger and slipped it your mouth.

"Do not." Seokmin groaned at the sight. "Don't make me go again, I might just break you."

You laughed, dropping into the space beside him as he put his arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Why though? Wasn't all this for baby number two?"

"Yeah well, I don't think any of what we did was part of traditional baby making."

Seokmin laughed. "You're not wrong there but what about the plan then..."

"I think we can give ourselves some time before we execute our perfect life plan." You cupped his cheek. "Besides, I think everything is perfect already with you by my side."

You had no idea how long the two of made out after that, simply entangled with each other. Maybe it was until you both realised how desperately you needed to shower (though you continued to kiss and giggle under the water.) You only stopped when you stepped out and heard a soft whimpering in the baby monitor, prompting you to quickly get dressed and rush to Aera's room, Seokmin following behind.

He stood, leaning against the door as he watched you lift her into your arms and holding her against your chest.

"Why won't your daughter sleep Mr. Lee?"

"Again, I think she's taken after you Ms.L/n."

"It's Mrs. Lee." You corrected, making him smile.

As he watched you put your child to sleep, be didn't think he could love you any more. Little did he know, in a little over 9 months, mini Seokmin would make his way into this world, and Seokmin loved you more than ever.

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ataleofcrowns · 4 months ago

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man interactive fiction authors get the most insane asks from anons what is it that has these freaks showing up to bother you all, just for putting out work for free??? 🙃

I'm gonna be honest, we're just way too accessible. Unfortunately for authors who are just starting out, there aren't that many ways to build up a readership outside of dropping regular updates.

Interacting regularly with your base of readers and giving them extra content through (anonymous) asks is one of those ways to cultivate an audience, and I feel gross just writing that because in an ideal world that shouldn't factor into it at all. But in the current online landscape, that's just become part of the culture surrounding it.

Especially since IF itself as a genre is very much online, there is this expectation that authors themselves should be familiar with the online landscape and be easily accessible as well. That accessibility comes with both pros and cons, and one of the major cons is that you get randoms in your inbox who decided to leave their manners at the door just because it's the internet and they're anonymous, so they think they can say and demand whatever they want from you without repercussions.

It's a decision that every IF author will have to make for themselves, in terms of how much they interact with their readers and how much access they allow.

While I do keep my anonymous asks on, I do that as someone who has thick skin and knows the risks of doing so. I'm also relatively active in my Discord server, but that's pretty much where the interaction with my readers ends. I'm otherwise a very private person, and this past year especially have taken added distance because I'm more comfortable that way.

But that's also a luxury I have because AToC is pretty well-established as an IF now, so I can afford to let the work speak for itself rather than twist myself up into a pretzel trying to garner more readers. I absolutely don't envy new IF writers, I can't imagine the struggle for them in this climate 🥲

#ask #anonymous #about the author

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monstrousproductions · 1 month ago

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PSST.

You wanna know a secret?

Neurotypical people use scripts too.

I'm neurodivergent and I struggle a lot with meeting new people. The only thing that helps me is scripting - planning the conversation beforehand, practicing the questions I'm going to ask, the anecdotes I can tell, all that jazz.

But what really helped me turn a corner was realising that neurotypicals are scripting too. Everyone in the supermarket is expecting the conversation with the cashier to go a certain way. I don't have to worry about being funny or interesting - I just have to play my part, and they'll play theirs, and we'll both go away from the interaction content!

And I know this is the Anti Small Talk website I knowwwwww. But small talk serves a vital social function! You can't just jump straight from Stranger to Friend - you need to do the intermediary steps first, or at least get introduced! Besides, it helps make brief, transactional interactions - like being served in a shop, for example - feel a bit more friendly, which, why wouldn't you want to make things more friendly??

It also - and let us simply speak in hypotheticals here - it also means that, for example, if you are an innocent podcaster who found themselves at a wedding a few weeks ago where you knew very few people, and, through various circumstances, ended up being sat at a table on the other side of the room to the people you actually did know, you wouldn't have had to spend the entire meal sitting in awkward silence because nobody else at your table knew how to make conversation with strangers. Hypothetically. For example. 🙃

And look. I get it. Meeting people can be awkward and uncomfortable, especially if you're neurodivergent. But there are things you can learn that can help minimise that awkwardness, or at least help you come across as 'harmlessly odd and doing their best' (my personal favourite social niche).

Society likes to pretend these skills are inherent. But babies aren't born knowing how to do any of this! We have to learn. As a neurodivergent person, I had to learn that skill very consciously, and rather later than some of my neurotypical peers - but they had to learn it too!!

And like every other skill, the only way you can improve is practice. You gotta put the time in. But that time pays off. I'm in my 30s, and by now, I have scripts on scripts, with variations for all sorts of different contexts. It's like a database I access, filtering through it for Middle Aged Woman In Professional Setting or Chatty Toddler On Bus or Millennial Programmer at Casual Social Event.

At this point, I feel pretty fluent in most social situations. It's not foolproof - I got so nervous at the pharmacists last week, I stammered too much for the clerk to understand me and had to start the whole interaction over 😶 But it makes life much easier, and - just as important - helps me to make stressful situations easier for other people, too.

So, please, if you struggle with small talk, can you do me a favour? Can you think of three questions you could ask a stranger? You want to keep them open-ended (no yes/no answers), friendly but not intrusive, and avoid anything that makes an assumption about the other person.

For example, I tend to go for, "What kind of thing do you like to do for fun?" instead of asking about work, because lots of people don't have jobs for all sorts of reasons they might not want to tell me, a random person at their friend's birthday party.

I'm also a huge fan of asking why people like something they said they like, or how they got into it. People like to talk about things they enjoy, and I like to hear about it!

Once you've got a set of questions to ask, you can have a think about your own responses. If someone asks you how you know the friend you have in common, what can you say that will keep the conversation going?

If they mention the weather, what could you say in response? It's been warm in Belfast recently after a cold snap, and I'm a bit annoyed because I was excited to wear all my woolly jumpers again. I've expressed that exact sentiment to four cashiers and three taxi drivers this month alone - and I'll do it again!!

Finally, above all, pay attention. Keep your head up, and try and see who's talking and who isn't. If you notice someone might not be getting chance to join in the conversation, you can bring them in by moving your attention to address them while you're answering someone else. Then, address your next question to them more directly.

The thing is, like I said, neurotypicals are scripting too. They'll be expecting this kind of chat. They'll be prepared. They're expecting to be asked this kind of thing, and to say the same kind of thing in return. There's no trick to it - they just learnt the script earlier than us, and without having to be told explicitly that it existed 😂

It's hard. I know it's hard. But you can learn, and it is worth learning - for your own sake, but also for the sake of your fellow wedding guests/birthday party attendees/newbies at the book club 😅

#not podcast related

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sv5hive · 9 months ago

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who said burnt pancakes weren't good? | fa14

pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

content warning(s): none!

word count: 458

note: im not really happy with this one but i haven't posted anything in a while and i have a couple of exams coming up so i won't be very active 🙃 i hope you like it anyways!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

(masterlist!)

ever since fernando had come home for the summer break, you had taken it upon yourself to treat him to luxuries he wouldn't usually get while racing. home cooked meals, lie ins, unlimited access to you; the whole works. while you did attend some of his races when you could, you still had your own career to grow despite fernando's insistence that he could support the both of you if you ever wanted it. you appreciated it but you loved your job and it kept you busy while he was away.

this morning, you found yourself humming along to the radio while waiting to flip the pancakes. you wanted nothing more than to sleep in with fernando and you struggled to leave his warm embrace but you had also been craving pancakes for a while now. besides, you felt good knowing that you could help your boyfriend even if it was a small thing like breakfast.

unbeknownst to you, fernando had already woken up and was now leaning against the doorway to admire you in your element. watching you bounce to the beat of the music, he found himself falling for you all over again. not many could say they were lucky enough to be with a woman like you but he could. he was eternally grateful for everything you did for him and never stopped wondering what kind of saint he was in a past life to be blessed with you.

"fernando! did i wake you?"

you had finally noticed him when you turned around to check the clock.

"no, mi amor. i was already awake."

he trudged towards you and kissed you before wrapping his arms around you. any time spent together was precious for both of you so you made every moment worth it.

"thank you, i don't tell you it enough." he mumbled with his face buried into your neck.

you could tell he wasn't just talking about the breakfast and simply smiled.

"you don't have to say it. i know."

you pulled away and took notice of the mellow song now playing on the radio.

"dance with me!"

he could never say no to that smile so he silently obliged and spun you around, much to your delight. when you first started dating, you both promised to make time for each other despite your hectic schedules and sure, sometimes it was hard not seeing each other as often as most couples would. but somehow, you had made it work when nobody else thought you could. and you were happy to keep proving them wrong.

the blare of the smoke alarm startled both of you out of your daze and you promptly remembered what you were doing before you got carried away.

"the pancakes!"

#fa14 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x fem!reader #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic

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shorthaltsjester · 2 months ago

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vex fully saving percy’s life on three separate occasions in the first 3 episodes, being deeply bothered in the one occasion where she couldn’t be the one to save him. very tryst behaviour, very bad omen of her to be the person that keeps him from getting hurt both physically and who reminds him to forgive himself (while he is sitting at a desk tinkering in front of a model clock tower 🙃) and that giving himself over to — essentially — death in the name of his own guilt won’t get him anywhere. i would like to set syldor vessar on fire. vex has literally been at the forefront of things that have saved percy throughout the show, and in fact percy has been more of a bad omen for her than the other way around, between orthax trying to get percy to shoot her and the whole causing her death thing, and vex being so convinced that her potentially loving someone is a curse she gives them and not the blessing it has clearly been for percy. head in hands . i love their dynamic so far is s3 for silly it’s fun reasons like seeing the inversion of boring tropes by having percy be fully portrayed as a damsel in distress and vex taking on the protective knight role, down to her suave lines after saving him and percy being a blushing mess when she so much as flirts with him. that said i am gnawing on my cage about the fact that the show is clearly showing vex as percy’s protector in the actions she takes but also making it clear that to her she can’t be good.

i will forever mourn that the tlovm version of saundor didn’t include the emphasis on ‘unproven ally’ because i think that part actually carried the brunt of the weight for vex’s growth post-saundor in campaign — especially re: her morality and her role in vox machina — than unwanted daughter ever could, since she already knew she was unwanted by syldor, but having saundor call her an unproven ally was a confirmation of fears she’d had but, until that point, could be repressed and turned away from because up to that point they were just fears. but all that said, i’m really heartened by the fact that s3 does seem to be bringing up vex’s concerns re: her goodness and how that impacts the rest of the party, particularly those she’s closest to. do i think some of the weight is taken out of the sails of vex thinking she’s a bad omen by the lack of establishment earlier in the show that she was struggling with seeing herself as something that could be good? yes, but i’m also really excited to see how her view of herself might be addressed in (potentially) upcoming story beats like glintshore and bard’s lament.

#i am truly stoked by what they’re doing with vex this season so far #that said if we do get bards lament and we don’t get vex’s role in it. i will lose all my faith in tlovm #that’s exaggeration but it will be a blow i Cannot and will not take well #tlovm spoilers #tlovm #vex’ahlia #percy de rolo #percy + vex #critical role #perc’ahlia

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katelynnwrites · 9 months ago

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Wondering If I Dodged A Bullet (Or Just Lost The Love Of My Life) | Laura Freigang

warnings: angst and my round and round in circles writing

word count: 2897

summary: laura leaves penn state for frankfurt, another way to put it would be that you and your girlfriend break up because she leaves penn state for frankfurt

a/n: i struggled so hard to complete this and it ended up being far from my best work but it is what it is 🙃

You are eighteen years old when your world changes forever.

It happens in the form of a blonde striker named Laura.

Her eyes captivate you the second you meet them. They’re the same colour as the ocean on a stormy day and possess the same ever shifting qualities.

She’s all confidence on the pitch and yet oh so shy when off it.

When your college coach introduces you to her, you know it is inevitable that you fall for her.

You have all your lucky stars to thank that she falls for you too.

******

It is one month into your relationship with Laura that you learn she loves back scratches.

You discover it entirely by accident, having mindlessly run your fingers across her shirt covered back while she was studying.

The happy sigh she let out had been a soft one but you’d picked up on it immediately.

It’s still early in your relationship but Laura has always been open about her body to you so it’s only with mild hesitation that you tentatively slide your hand up under her shirt, to gently scratch your nails on her bare skin.

The German girl groans immediately. It’s a sound of contentment and you adore the way she melts onto your bed.

She’d come over to study and you suspect, to complain about her upcoming psychology test.

Your girlfriend is awfully smart, being more than capable of keeping up her grades while still being a regular starter for your football team

You suppose that attaining a sports scholarship to study in Penn State should have given you an idea of just how driven she can be.

Laura’s a year older and thus, a year ahead of you. She has way more course material than you and her compromise for making sure she is able to finish her work and still spend time with you, is doing her work in your room. Often with her head in your lap.

You giggle at her protests the moment you stop giving her back scratches.

‘Schatz please don’t stop.’ She begs.

Her ocean coloured eyes have this beseeching look in them, the one that you are never able to refuse.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ You laugh, resuming your previous actions, much to the blonde’s delight.

******

One hundred and twenty one days into dating Laura, you learn that there is nothing she wouldn’t do for you.

Your girlfriend is a big all or nothing individual, that particular characteristic drawing you to her in the first place.

The German forward gives everything she has on the pitch, absolutely one hundred percent of herself regardless of the minute or the opponent.

It just didn’t occur to you that she would bring that into your relationship.

From using the little stove in the dormitory kitchen to make your favourite breakfast on game days, to carrying your bag for you after trainings, Laura is simply committed to you.

You don’t know how else to put it.

She is just an anything for my person kind of girl.

You’re beyond grateful to be her person.

The striker is stepping up her game now, video calling you from her hotel room in Germany, just so she can wish you good morning.

There is a significant time difference between Pennsylvania and Frankfurt but your girlfriend makes it work.

The blonde sets an alarm to wake up in the middle of the night, just to call you for a few minutes right when she knows you will be getting up for your classes.

‘Good morning schatz.’ She whispers, taking in the early morning sun that is lighting up your room when you pick up her call.

‘I’d say good morning too but I think wishing you goodnight makes more sense.’ You tease.

Your girlfriend giggles, ‘I’ll take anything you want to wish me. I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.’

You’re glad for the poor lighting because Laura’s words make your cheeks turn a bright red.

‘Lau? You did not have to wake up just to say good morning to me. Rest is important for you.’

‘I know. But I wanted to.’ She says softly, adoration filling her voice.

‘Lau?’ You ask again, staring hard at your phone screen to make her out in her hotel room.

It is dark but you manage to, the weak glow of her own phone screen helping you do so.

She is tucked into her sheets, messy blonde hair strewn all over her pillow as she giggles, ‘Yes schatz?’

‘I miss you.’

‘I miss you too.’ She breathes, a small smile playing on her lips.

Every time Germany has a training camp for their youth teams, Laura flies back to her home country to participate.

Each time, you miss her more.

Her absence is sorely felt and you’ve taken to dropping her off and picking her up at the airport just so you don’t have to miss her any longer than you have to.

‘I’ll see you at the airport in two days?’

‘Count on it.’ You promise and you blow each other a kiss before hanging up.

******

Six months into your relationship with the German player is when you find out that she has a penchant for stealing your clothes.

You have been wondering where certain items of your clothing have disappeared to and unbeknown to you, Laura has been hiding them away in her room.

Hoarding might actually be a more accurate term.

Despite how clingy you can be to your girlfriend and she to you, you don’t spend every night together.

When you do, it’s nearly always in your room because your bed is slightly bigger than hers.

It is a sore point with the blonde and she often jokingly complains that it is unfair of Penn State to give their star forward such a small bed.

Today is one of the few times you are in her room and the first time you are alone in it.

Laura’s late in meeting you and you know your girlfriend well enough to be sure that it’s because she has got a bunch of questions for her lecturer.

So you had used the spare key she had given you when you were just friends, before you’d even started dating, to let yourself into her room because standing outside it alone had been too awkward. You know she won’t mind anyway.

Tired from the day’s early morning practice, you flop down on her bed and dump your bag down at the side of it.

You absentmindedly shift her pillow to get more comfortable, only to find something beside it.

As you stare at the piece of clothing, you realise that it’s one of your missing shirts.

Lying back down, you find another of your missing shirts tucked under the other side of her pillow.

You are very confused now, beginning to wonder if you have been forgetful enough to leave not just one but two of your shirts behind, the last time you stayed over in her dorm room.

But if you were, then why hasn’t the blonde returned the shirts to you? Or said anything?

Thankfully, you hear Laura’s key in the door so you don’t have to worry about it for long.

‘Hey schatz.’ She greets cheerfully, flinging her bag onto the floor carelessly and sprawling herself on top of you.

‘Lau!’ You exclaim and she laughs.

Her hands cup your face gently and she presses a brief kiss onto your lips.

‘Hi.’ You giggle, after readily reciprocating her affectionate gesture.

‘Hi.’ She breathes.

Your girlfriend buries her face into the side of your neck, leaving more intimate kisses there.

You groan at the touch of her lips on your skin. It gives you butterflies inside but you can’t let it distract you now.

‘Laura…Laura?’

She makes a questioning noise but doesn’t slow.

‘Why have you got my shirts in your bed? Did I leave them here?’

The German girl freezes.

‘Lau?’ You prompt, reaching out to hold her hand reassuringly.

Her cheeks are rapidly turning a bright pink and she stammers, ‘I-I didn’t mean for you to find out about that…you’re going to think I’m so silly.’

You plant a little kiss on her forehead and gently tease, ‘I already think you’re silly, in the best of ways.’

Laura smiles and then shyly admits, ‘You didn’t leave them here. I kinda stole them from you because I love sleeping with your familiar smell. You always smell so good and something about it just calms me down.’

You stare at her in stunned silence.

Long enough that Laura begins to look uncertain.

Then you blurt out, ‘I love you.’

Your girlfriend lets out a small gasp, her pretty eyes shining as she whispers, ‘I love you too.’

It’s the first ‘I love you’ for the both of you and you cannot put into words how much it means.

Laura seems to be thinking along the same lines because she traces your cheekbone lightly, the action filled with adoration.

‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’ She murmurs, in between peppering your face with kisses.

‘Love you too Laura. So much, even if you do keep stealing my shirts.’

The blonde smiles and confesses, ‘Can’t help it. I bring a bunch with me to every national camp too.’

Before meeting the German girl, you didn’t know it was possible to feel this strongly for anyone.

But as it is with Laura, you discover so many firsts.

You hope that you discover many lasts too because you want what you have with her to be forever.

Fervently, you hope that Laura Freigang is the girl you have your last first kiss with.

******

Forty five weeks of dating Laura and you decide that she is the love of your life.

Maybe it’s the good morning and good night kisses, or the way she so obviously cherishes every moment she has with you. It could even be the way she smiles.

The corners of her lips tip upwards and her eyes light up each and every time she does so.

Your girlfriend’s brother says that Laura’s smile is different when it is directed at you. He claims that it is special and you are inclined to agree.

Laura herself is special to you. Boundlessly so.

She has a new found habit of sliding her hand up and under your shirt whenever you fall asleep together.

The blonde striker craves skin to skin contact with you, loves the peace it gives her.

After your girlfriend admits why she keeps your shirts beside her pillow, you offer her a better solution.

Instead of your shirts, she can have you.

Laura takes you up on that immediately and her assigned dorm room practically becomes a storage room for her belongings.

She is always in your room because she spends every night there now.

It’s one of her favourite things to curl up beside you and rhythmically match her breaths to yours.

You are warm and oh so real, unlike the often cold material of your shirts.

The German girl can be possessive and it shows in how she holds you close, even as she sleeps.

Laura presses you into her, her palm resting flat on your back and you love it.

It has you feeling safe and wanted, two things that your girlfriend has never failed to make you feel.

You know that you are right, she is the love of your life.

******

Three hundred and sixty five days of being Laura’s and Laura being yours is when she gives you a necklace for your anniversary.

It is a simple piece of jewellery, a small heart shaped locket hanging on a delicate silver chain.

‘Do you like it?’ She anxiously asks, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

Admiring the gift, you breathe, ‘I love it.’

Gently, you kiss her to convey just how grateful you are. The blonde smiles into the kiss, her hands cupping your face instinctively.

When you pull away, you softly speak, ‘Thank you schatz. Will you help me put it on please?’

The striker grins brightly, ‘Of course.’

She makes quick work of clasping it around your neck as you hold your hair up.

Glancing at the mirror, you play with the locket and Laura prompts, ‘Open it.’

You feel a tiny latch you hadn’t noticed earlier just as she says so.

The locket opens when you press down on it and you gasp as you see the photo of your girlfriend sharing a kiss with you in it.

You pull Laura into a different kiss, deepening it to show her just how much you love her present.

‘Love you. Love you. Love you.’ You murmur, in between the kisses you keep pressing onto her lips.

Laura lets out a pleased sigh, intertwining her fingers with yours and promising, ‘I love you too.’

You squeeze her hand in yours but can’t take your eyes off the locket.

‘Schatz, this is really beautiful.’

Your girlfriend cheekily but honestly admits, ‘Like you.’

Then she laughs at the blush that rapidly appears on your cheeks, affectionately brushing her lips across your forehead.

******

Laura’s locket never leaves its place, around your neck.

Not even when you are nineteen and the blonde, twenty, the two of you unsure where your relationship is going.

The striker has got an offer from 1. FFC Frankfurt and she knows that taking it will be the best move for her career. You know it too.

It is just your fear of what happens now that makes you anxious.

You love your girlfriend, adore her so. She’s only been yours for slightly more than a year but she is the love of your life. You don’t know what you would do without her.

Your day starts with Laura’s good morning kisses, you eat breakfast together, walk each other to classes when able to, study together, go for training sessions with one another and share goodnight kisses when it is time to sleep.

For a lack of a better way to put it, you do not remember how to live your life without her. You don’t you if you can and that may be codependent of you but it is the truth.

From the way the blonde is fidgeting with her rings, you know the feeling is mutual.

‘I-I don’t want to leave you.’ She quietly admits.

‘I know.’

‘I love you.’

‘I know. And I love you too but you have to do this schatz.’

Laura’s voice is pained when she echoes your earlier words, ‘I know.’

Touching your necklace carefully, you begin to unlatch it.

The German girl inhales sharply.

‘Don’t.’

Her ocean coloured eyes are welling with tears when she covers your hands with hers.

‘Keep it. I gave it to you. It’s yours. Please, it’s meant for you.’

‘But Lau-’

Her words are fierce as she insists, ‘No! We’re not over, you and I.’

Your smile is wistful and cautious when you look up at her.

‘Laura you don’t know that. You don’t know if any club will want to take me, let alone one in Germany. The chances of me ending up in Frankfurt with you are slim if at all possible.’

The forward’s frown intensifies, ‘Don’t say that. You don’t know that.’

As much as you want it not to be, your tone is one of resignation, ‘Schatz…’

Your dorm room feels stifling in a way it never has before and even though Laura is sitting right beside you, on your bed, she feels so far away that she might as well already be in Frankfurt.

The blonde is staring at you speechlessly and you take her hand in yours.

Holding her hand is familiar and an intimate gesture…one that you know you will not have for much longer.

‘I love you. No matter how much time passes, part of me is always going to love you. But you need to stop thinking about me. About us…and move on. You are going to do so good with Frankfurt. You are brilliant Lau, please show them exactly how talented you are.’

Your words are barely audible but you mean it. You have never meant anything more. It’s with your whole heart, your breaking heart, that you tell them to the German girl.

Laura’s tears are spilling down her cheeks and she is shaking slightly when you break your heart for good with the next two sentences out of your mouth.

‘I’m your biggest fan. That’s never going to change, it will just have to be from a distance now.’

******

Maybe it was stupid of you to let the love of your life go. But you needed to, needed to learn how to live on your own and let her be a star, halfway around the world.

In a way, you dodge a bullet too because as painful as it is, you learn. Without the striker leaving, you never would have learnt.

And for Laura who has been looking sad in all the nicest places and wanting to call your name until you come back home, it pays off.

Because some years later, as crazy as it is, you are in a German cab and telling the driver where the blonde’s place is.

You’re on your way back home to her, with her locket still around your neck.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

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