#the first one is mr forgettable

[kaustic]

taylor swift was so heartbreakingly correct when she said “i can go anywhere i want, just not home”

[whenthegoldrays]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

[normspellsman]

Tidal Wave

part one | part two

pairing: lo’ak x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, more angst, comfort (from tsireya to lo’ak + from spider to reader + from kiri to reader), & fluff (at the very end)

word count: 14.4k+ (holy fuck)

warning(s): suggestive content, crying, yelling, familial arguments, secrets are spilled (😬), neytiri + lo’ak arguing, mentions of violence + self inflicted injury (reader rubs skin raw), mention of incident at ta’unui clan, slightest lo’ak x tsireya, reader having self-deprecating thoughts, lo’ak being lovesick for reader, mention of lo’ak being sad, major character death, sprinkle of miscommunication / misinterpretation of actions, blood, slightest spider x reader, kiri + reader are bffs!, heartbreak?, cursing, & mentions of having little appetite

taglist: @bewbz2110 @httpjiikook @aonungsmate @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez @heart-an0n @omnifanfic @toomuchtime02 @bigdikzaddy @anxietydrogz @myh3artttt @ancientbeing10 @yourusername1 @dearstell @goodiesinthecloset21 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @arminsgfloll @optimisticblazetrash @liyahsocorro @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @alohastitch0626 @btsiguess-kpop @ithinkimaslutforharry @zootymcnooty @zeeader @reallysparklychaos @zeida @coffeehurricanes @manumanulau @pumpararapam @ipang @willowcxmilee @audigay @sagaonpandora

word bank: sa’nok — mother, sempul — father, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, tawtute — human; sky person, ikran — four winged creature used for hunting + flying, kehe — no, palulukan — thanator, sìlpeytsyìp — little hope (idk if it’s an accurate translation since i just put the words hope + little together), tulkun — whale like creatures, ilu — sea creature used for hunting + riding, yawne — beloved, & nga yawne lu oer — i love you

songs that i drew inspo from: a match into water by pierce the veil, gilded lily (sped up version) by cults, mr. forgettable by david kushner, & reflections by the neighbourhood

note: huge shoutout to @neteyamslovrr for helping me proofread this! ilysm baby 😭🫶🏼🤍 mentions of readers birthday takes place around 3-4 months after her & spider were kidnapped (so reader, kiri, spider, & lo’ak are aged up to 17-18). i imagined the events of atwow happening over a couple of months due to the fact that ronal is more visibly pregnant towards the end than when we first see her. so, just for clarification :)

Lo’ak had begged his parents the morning after to save you.

He pleaded and begged, getting on his knees as he sobbed into his Sa’nok’s thigh, covering it in his warm tears and snot. But, Jake’s answer stayed persistent: “They are strong kids, son. They will be alright,”. Of course, Jake wasn’t aware that Lo’ak and his other siblings heard what he had to say about you and Spider the night before during he and Neytiri’s heated discussion.

( “The kids know everything! They know where we live! Spider knows our whole operation. We are not safe as long as they have those two. They both can lead him right here! We are no longer safe staying here.” )

Lo’ak knew that neither you or Spider would ever give up the location of High Camp or of the Sully family. The both of you were loyal to a fault. Perhaps too loyal for your own good. It hurt to hear that his own Sempul would ever think that you would betray the family you grew to think of as your own. Lo’ak knew you better than anyone else.

Having to leave the Omatikaya and not even attempt to save you made Lo’ak resent his parents, his heart completely breaking into two as he got farther and farther from his home and essentially you. It was days before he had spoken to his parents after arriving at Awa’atlu, but it wasn’t like his parents sought out to speak to him either.

The more time he spent on the island, the more time he found himself yearning to have you by his side. To experience all of this with you. There was a constant hole in his chest that never left, deepening every time he thought of you. He had no way of knowing if you were being tortured at the current moment or even alive. He didn’t trust the RDA to keep you alive, especially once they saw how loyal you were to Jake and his family, disposing of you like you were nothing. You are everything to Lo’ak and it pained him to not know how you were doing or what was happening to you during your time in the enemy’s hands.

He could only pray to Eywa every night to keep you safe and spare you, fully aware that if she answered his call, she’d need something in return. And he was fully prepared to pay the price with his own life.

———

The torture they put you through was something you’d never would wish upon your greatest enemy.

They had ceased the torture on Spider, the orders being given to them by Quaritch. So, Ardmore turned to you and inflicted all kinds of pain and continuous torture onto you. The human boy begged Quaritch to put a stop to this, demanding him to let you go. But no matter how much Spider pleaded with the man or how many times he went over it with Ardmore, the woman didn’t budge. She was insistent on getting something out of you. But all she really got was memories and flashes of a tall Na’vi teen boy and nothing else. Things that were useless to her, so she punished you every time.

The first time you arrived at their base, their doctors had pulled you aside and assessed you. They deemed that you had multiple fractured ribs and a mild concussion, ordering Ardmore to let you heal before she decided to do anything. She agreed to it at first since she had Spider to get information out of, but once Quaritch told her that he was off limits and was going to comply with him and his team, she began to drag you out to the interrogation room and leave you in there for hours until you passed out.

It was the same routine for weeks. Wake up, get dragged to the interrogation room, receive endless amounts of torture for hours, pass out, repeat. Days began to blur together, not knowing where one began and the next stopped. It was all the same.

The first time you realized you had been in the RDA’s grasp for too long was the night Spider had snuck into your room and gently sang happy birthday to you. It must’ve been months then. Your seventeenth birthday was celebrated nearly a year before being taken hostage by Quaritch. Ardmore had deemed it best to separate Spider and you from each other, breaking down both of your support systems. That night, as you and the boy silently cried into the dark of your room, you lost all hope that Lo’ak was coming back for you.

It hurt too much to think about. But you knew, you knew that eventually, it was never going to work out. You were too different. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, ripping the two of you from each other and essentially ending the relationship you had with one another. You loved Lo’ak dearly but you knew that your love was never in the cards. It was something taboo, forbidden. You only hoped that Lo’ak was able to find comfort within someone else during this time. For you doubted that you’d ever see each other again. He needed someone like him. Not you.

———

Lo’ak had done everything he could to keep his mind off of you.

He needed to keep his mind off of you if he didn’t want to break down in the middle of the beach twenty-four-seven. So, he often spent more time training with Tsireya and got into meaningless fights whenever he could, angering his parents to no end. It worked at times, but often not, his mind always wandered back to you. Always.

“Lo’ak, what are you doing?” A soft voice asked, pulling the boy away from his never ending thoughts of the one person he desired to see.

“Moping,” he mumbled, crossed legged on the shoreline as he picked at the soft sand beneath him.

“I can tell,” she replied, taking a seat next to him. The boy next to her looked like a wounded puppy, ears drawn back as his tail laid limp beside him. Plus, he had a frown painted onto his face as he blankly stared at the sand below. “What is bothering you?” She asked, calmness etched into her voice.

Lo’ak hadn’t told her, or any other Metkayina for that matter, about you and the kind of relationship you shared. Sure he mentioned you and Spider and what happened before he and his family left to seek uturu from the reef people. But he never gave anyone the idea that he was in love with you. He didn’t know how any of them would react.

“Is it about the humans you mentioned earlier?” She added, filling in the silence that was growing between them as Lo’ak didn’t answer her previous question.

The boy only hummed, poking his fingers into the damp sand. He really didn’t want to talk to Tsireya about this. It risked the chance of his Sa’nok hearing or a stranger eavesdropping and telling everyone else in the village about how much he cared for a tawtute. It also hurt to talk about you. Because he knew once he started, he was never going to stop.

“I am sorry that they were taken. I know they meant a lot to you and your siblings,” Tsireya commented, truly feeling sorry for the young boy. She could tell that Lo’ak deeply cared for the humans and she couldn’t imagine losing someone that close to her like that.

A shrug from Lo’ak was his only response to the girl’s comfort, tears beginning to prick his eyes as he began to crave your touch and soothing lips against his. He began to forget what it was like to have your hands and lips on his own skin, making the hole in his chest increase in size.

“What were their names again?” She delicately asked, genuinely curious. Foreign things always interested the girl and she had never seen a tawtute before. So, befriending people that have, made her want to ask all of the questions she’s been dying to ask. The girl knew that her chance of meeting a human was extremely low before the Sully’s arrival, but that still didn’t stop her from wondering.

A small smile etched itself onto the corners of Lo’ak’s lips as he thought about you. Your name was probably his favorite thing to utter. It becoming a prayer during the darkest hours of the night, with you being the only one to answer his mumbled words. You were Lo’ak’s salvation and he never hesitated to remind you.

“(Y/N) and Spider,” he replied, fingers now fiddling with the anklet around his foot. You had made it for him for his fifteenth birthday. The poor boy had been so flustered while trying to tie it around his ankle that the woven material kept slipping through his fingers. You offered your help with a giggle, your soft fingertips causing fire to erupt against his skin as they trailed from his ankle bone to his calf in a teasing manner. If Lo’ak closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could still feel the tingly sensation your fingers left behind in their wake.

“Those are…interesting names,” Tsireya giggled, testing out their names on her tongue, attempting to enunciate every letter and vowel to the best of her ability. “Humans have such weird names,” she comments, reflecting back on the time she briefly met Norm and Max when they came to visit after Kiri’s seizure.

Lo’ak only hummed in response, smile still on his face as he recalled all the memories he has of you. He missed you so much. He felt empty without you. He felt as if he had half a soul with you gone. His whole being ached to be with you, touch you, love you.

The Metkayina girl noticed Lo’ak’s almost blissful smile on his face, copying his actions. She could only assume that one of you meant more to him than the other. That the other held a special place in his heart. “Which one is it?” She asked, not trying to sound like she was prying. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was just curious.

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”.

“Which one has you wrapped around their finger?”.

The question itself made Lo’ak blush, bottom lip going in between his teeth in an attempt to stop an even wider smile from making its way onto his face. Damn, he thought, she can read me like a book. You got to be more subtle man.

The boy gave her his answer, tail perking up and swaying to and from at the mention of your name, his body betraying him at trying to hide his affection for you.

“Can you tell me about her?” Tsireya asked, enthralled at how just the mere mention of your name influenced such actions from the Omatikaya boy.

Lo’ak didn’t need to be asked twice before he began to talk about you, barely taking any breaths in between each word he uttered. If only his Mother and Father could see how much love Lo’ak held for you. If only.

———

“Ready kid?”.

You’d rather throw yourself off the highest floating mountain than go with Quaritch and his team on their mission to hunt down Jake and his family. But, alas, you had to go. You had to go unless you wanted to continue to be tortured by the old blonde Captain. You hated that woman with everything you had in you.

Quaritch had promptly requested Ardmore to cease her torturous treatment on you, stating that he finally got a lead on where the Sully’s might be and that you were crucial to the plan he and his team were putting together. He needed you to go with them and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He saw how Jake’s son had reacted when he was teasing the boy about you. The boy cared for you and Quaritch was going to use it as leverage somehow.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You replied, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you. You absolutely did not want to go wherever they were going, but you didn’t want to stay behind and be tortured to death. So, you took the lesser of two evils (if you could even call it that).

Quaritch chuckled at your response, shaking his head, motioning you to follow after him. The man had taken a liking to you, much like he did with Spider. You weren’t afraid to express how much you disliked the man nor did you hesitate to express your distaste for the whole situation he put you in. He liked your bluntness and admired your loyalty to the Na’vi, even if it was a major inconvenience for him and his team.

You had only ridden on an ikran a handful of times before, Lo’ak only being able to convince you with his little pout and big pleading eyes. You never were a fan of heights and having to spend Eywa knows how long on an ikran to the next base Quaritch was heading to made you want to cry. At least with Lo’ak, you knew that he’d always catch you if you began to slip. But with Quaritch, you were confident he wouldn’t give two shits if you slipped off the flying creature.

“I am not getting on an ikran with you,” you commented, hands on hips as you approached the RDA Avatar soldiers and their ikrans. You were very surprised that the whole group managed to, successfully, claim an ikran within only months of being on Pandora whereas native Na’vi trained their whole lives for this. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth when you thought about it.

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Quaritch answers, turning back towards you once he reached his bonded companion.

The ikran was probably the most beautiful you’ve seen, even with your limited experience with the creatures. The whole body of the animal was a deep navy blue, streaks of gold and orange decorating its wings. The animal itself was gorgeous. It was ironic how someone so evil and ugly had managed to tame something so beautiful.

“Spider’s riding with me. You’ll ride with Z-Dog,” he continued, clicking his tongue towards the tall Avatar woman, gently petting his ikran as he did so.

Your eyes were torn from the navy creature in front of you to the woman. Your blood went cold as you made eye contact, her hard stare boring into your eyes as she robotically chewed at the gum in her mouth. Great, you thought, I’m definitely going to die.

“We don’t have all day, kid,” Quaritch commented, already mounted on his ikran as Spider sat in front of him, eyes worriedly scanning your figure as you stood there frozen in place.

Your eyes then drifted from the woman to her bonded companion behind her, its face gently nuzzling into her side affectionately. Your heart clenched at the sight of the animal. It looked almost identical to that of your boyfriend's ikran. Lo’ak’s was an almost dark blue, gold swirling around its neck and wings. His companion shared many similarities to the one of his Father, the only difference being the black patch on his protruding lower jaw. Memories of when Lo’ak took you out for rides on his ikran flooded your mind, making the hole in your chest double in size.

“Let’s go,” the woman said, snatching your forearm in her grip as she placed you onto the creature, placing herself behind you as she made tshaleyu with the animal. The winged creature chirped in delight at the sensation and shrieked once it readied itself to take flight, wings twitching.

You braced yourself for the ride, both hands tightening around one of the ikrans queues, thighs tensing in anticipation. The rides you had with Lo’ak were much more smoother and gentler. Lo’ak made sure to put emphasis on how he dismounted from the ground, trying to make it as smooth as possible for you. His bonded animal always complied, never rushing when he pushed off the ground and into the skies above. You found yourself missing that process as you desperately tried not to slip off the poor animal as it ascended into the blue sky. It was rough, to say the least.

Once you reached an appropriate enough altitude, Z-Dog steadied and leveled out her ikran, halting the rough turbulence you experienced moments prior. The creature chirped once again, smoothly gliding through the wind.

You always loved the feeling you got whenever you were up in the sky with Lo’ak despite your anxiety regarding heights. He always made sure that you were okay throughout the ride as well as before and after the fact. But with the stranger you were assigned to, you found yourself wanting to hurl in anxiousness. You only hoped that this was going to be a quick and fast flight to wherever the hell you were heading to.

———

The minute you stepped into the small room the tulkun hunters had allowed you to occupy during your stay, you fell to your knees. Sobs racked your body as your mind replayed the scenes that you witnessed only minutes prior. Arriving at the Ta’unui village. The gathering of their people like they were sheep to slaughter. Quaritch threatening the Tsahik and Olo’eyktan of the clan. Lyle shooting and killing a sea creature on his Colonel’s order. The burning of the peoples homes. The killing of a Mother tulkun. It all kept replaying in your head, even when you moved to the even smaller shower.

You tried so hard to rid of the memories in your head, of the smell on your skin, of the guilt you felt. You rubbed at your skin until it was raw and hot and bleeding. The permanent reminder of just what your race is capable of slamming to the forefront of your mind. It all felt wrong. It feels wrong being here. Feels wrong to live on Pandora where its native species had to experience the pain and constant attempts of colonization from a different species. It all felt like you were contributing to whatever Quaritch had in mind. Even if he didn’t tell you any details, you still chose to come along. Maybe staying behind with Captain Ardmore would’ve been a better option. After all, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were alive or not at the end of it for you already felt dead inside. Nothing and no one would be able to bring you comfort from what you just saw and gone through.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice asked, it cracking from the amount of emotion the owner felt.

“Spider,” you whispered, curling in on yourself as you saw his figure standing in your doorway, tears streaming down his face.

The boy made his way to your bed, laying on it, facing you on his side. Not a word was uttered between you two, not needing any to communicate the type of comfort you both seeked from each other. And you stayed like that, facing each other and grasping onto each other's hands for comfort as you unknowingly fell asleep, slumber welcoming you into its embrace. But even your dreams weren’t a safe place. You dreamt of fire, of blood, and of death the whole night.

Maybe Neytiri was right. You should’ve never befriended the Sully children. You should’ve stuck to your own kind.

———

The second Lo’ak heard that a boy and a girl had been with Quaritch and his team during their attack on a nearby village, he began to ready his ilu for the trip. For getting you back.

The boy had paced back and forth from the edge of the mauri to his swimming companion, bending down to slip on the various of saddles the animal needed for riding. The creature chirped up at him every time Lo’ak bent down, seemingly encouraging him as he did so.

“What are you doing?” A voice asked, confusion laced in their tone. Lo’ak knew who it was before they even spoke. His Sa’nok had a bad habit of sneaking up on everyone, being too quiet for her own good. The hairs on the back of his head always stood up on end whenever he felt his Mothers presence behind him, alerting him of the potential rage he was going to face from the woman.

“To save them,” Lo’ak mumbled, too focused on saddling the right equipment on his companion, fiddling with the straps as he tightened them. The boy knew that his parents never really cared for either of your well-beings, it being evident in their body language and actions whenever he or Kiri talked about the things they did with the pair of you that particular day. If they weren’t willing to save you, then Lo’ak would take it upon himself to. He finally knew where you were after months of not knowing and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms again.

A growl emitted itself from his Mothers lips, her hand coming out to grip her son's bicep into her grasp, “Kehe!”.

Neytiri didn’t know why her son was so infatuated with you, a tawtute. She was always against her children from befriending you and Spider, glaring at your figures everytime you walked by at High Camp. Her son seemed to be closer with you than Spider. The fact always bothered her, making her skin crawl with anger. Angry that you were occupying her son's time when he could be doing other things, meeting other people, and talking to other appropriate women of the clan.

“You will not,” she continued, scowl painted onto her face as she glared down at her son. She knew that if Lo’ak were to continue with his plan and make it to wherever you were, that Quaritch wouldn’t hesitate to shoot or take him prisoner. She couldn’t have that. Neytiri needed all of her children within eyesight so she could look over them and make sure that they were safe. She wouldn’t be able to do that if her son went to you.

Lo’ak growled back at his Mother, ripping his arm out from her tight grip. The boy had his mind made up and nobody was going to stop him. He needed to get to you. He needed you.

“I will. Why do you even care? You haven’t bothered to talk to me the whole time here. The only time you talk to me is to yell or scold me for doing yet another thing wrong,” Lo’ak hissed out, teeth tightly clenched. “(Y/N) and Spider care about me more than you ever have!” He added, whole body shaking in anger.

Neytiri gasped at her sons exclaimation, lightly hissing at him, “How dare you think that? I love you, Lo’ak. But they, they do not! They are demons! They aren’t capable of such things as love.”

Lo’ak’s ears drew back to press up against his skull and his lips drew up to show off his pointed fangs, a very loud hiss escaping from between his teeth. The hiss sounded almost roar-like, drawing attention from inside the Sully mauri, ears and tails perking up in interest.

Another gasp escaped from Neytiri’s throat. Her son had never hissed at her like that. Sure he had hissed at her playfully when he was younger or out of annoyance whenever she tried to get him to open up to her. But he had never hissed at her so…possessively. The only time she had heard a roar like this was when her husband was fighting off Quaritch during the Great Battle and he threatened everything he worked so hard to build during his time in the Avatar program.

“They do! She loves me. She’s capable of it and so much more. But you are too stubborn and stuck in your ways to see her the way I do. She cares for me, loves me. That I know,” Lo’ak grumbled out, fangs seeming to get even longer as he brewed in his anger. “I see her and she sees me. Something you and Dad never do,” he finished, turning away from his Mother as he reached out to grab the final thing he needed for his ride to you.

“What do you mean, Lo’ak?” Neytiri asked, anger laced in her voice. She knew what he was insinuating, but she needed to hear it come from his mouth. To confirm her suspicions. To confirm or deny what she had been thinking for years.

“I mean that she is mine. She is the only thing that I was ever able to have. I see her. She has taken me heart, body, and soul,” he slightly hisses out, not daring to look at his Mother as he spoke. He knew that once the confession of his sins slipped from his lips, there was no telling what his Mother would do. He didn’t want to be in the crossfire once she decided to act upon whatever she was feeling, her not being a top priority in his life at the moment. You were the priority and he’d be damned if anyone stopped him from getting to you.

“No,” Neytiri whispers, “You did not. Tell me you didn’t!”.

There were many things that his Mother could be referring to, but he was pretty sure he knew what she was hinting at. It was something that he had planned on doing with you once he properly courted you and way further into the future. But, nothing ever goes according to plan in Lo’ak’s life. The first time you guys had engaged in such an act was months before you were taken hostage. You had never been to the Tree of Souls, it being nearly impossible for you to get to without proper assistance. Lo’ak had decided to take you to it as a surprise on your weekly date night. The two of you had been dating for a while but never went as far as kissing or wondering hands against skin. It all happened so fast. One minute Lo’ak was describing the connection to you, how it all worked and the next, you were under him squirming and calling out his name in pleasure. He knew that once such an act was done, he’d be tied to you forever. That in the eyes of the Great Mother you two were mates and forever bound to one another’s souls. After that, the two of you often found yourselves engaging to be together. Lo’ak felt as if it was another way he could feel connected to you without being able to perform tshaleyu. He never took the act for granted and always put your pleasure before his, worshiping every inch of your body before you could do the same to him.

Her sons silence was Neytiri’s answer resulting in her loudly hissing at her youngest son, almost matching Lo’ak’s moments prior. That was the final straw to have Jake interfere between his arguing son and wife.

“You gave yourself to her? To a demon? Agh! Shame! You have brought shame upon this family and yourself. You tainted yourself with a human. Someone who can’t give you a future!” She yelled out, angry tears running down the expanse of her cheeks. Intercourse before mating wasn’t something that was taboo in the Omatikaya culture, but it was expected of the Olo’eyktan and his family to save themselves before then, demonstrating their loyalty to the people and their future spouse. So to hear her son, the second born of the Olo’eyktan, engage in such an intimate act with a human nonetheless, made her want to pluck his eyes out from the sockets that held them.

“Woah! Woah! Hey!” Jake said, jumping in between his son and wife before either of them could jump at each other's throat. His front faced Neytiri while his back faced his son. “Hey! What’s going on?” He gently asked, bringing his wife’s face into his hands as he tried to get her to focus his attention on him and not Lo’ak.

“Your son has mated with a demon!” She spat out, disgust interlaced in her tone. The way she felt towards the situation was evident enough on her face. Her lips were drawn back to flash her fangs and her nose was scrunched as if she just smelt a pile of Palulukan dung.

Jake froze at the words his wife spat, eyes darting to his son behind him. Although he froze at the words, he wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling that you and Lo’ak were more than just friends. He often caught his son gently rubbing at the marks you left on his skin during dinner, a smirk dancing across his youngests lips. Jake’s not stupid. He was Lo’ak’s age once and understood the urges he faced. But, he was human then and the Na’vi have a completely different way of thinking and going about things like this.

Jake didn’t question Lo’ak about whether or not what Neytiri said was true, already knowing the answer. He only sighed in response and tried to coax his wife to calm down.

“Go back in the house, son. Now,” Jake demanded, shooting him a look that told him he wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

Lo’ak wanted to argue and continue with his plan on rescuing you, but he knew that his pleading would be worthless, especially after his confession. So, he begrudgingly desaddled his ilu and made his way into the pod, ignoring the looks of his siblings as he made his way to his side of the house, throwing something against the woven wall before settling down in the corner. Tears left his eyes as he sat there. He was frustrated. All he wanted to do was see and hold you, but it seemed as if Eywa wasn’t on his side once again.

Why Great Mother? Why do you do this to me?

His heart further broke at the fact that you, yet again, slipped through his fingers. It seemed as if the whole universe was against the two of you. But, the universe be damned. Lo’ak was going to get you back no matter what it took. He’d burn down villages for you, destroy planets for you. He’d do anything for you.

———

“They found out?” A soft voice asks, pulling Lo’ak out from his zoning out episode.

He only hummed in response, eyes puffy from all the crying he did that night. His Mother screamed and cried at him after she talked to Jake, calling him what everyone else does, a disappointment. He desperately tried to get her to understand how he felt about you and how much he cared for you. He wouldn’t fall in love with just anyone, so you had to be very special to be the one to hold his heart.

Neteyam had been the one to comfort him that night as Jake and Kiri consoled Neytiri, trying to get her to calm down so she didn’t disturb any other Metkayina trying to sleep or seek shelter from the storm. It had been the first time in years that Neteyam had held Lo’ak in his arms, turning him away from the sight of their Sa’nok as the elder practically held the younger in his lap. Neteyam felt bad that their Mother was acting like this. Like she too hadn’t fallen in love with a tawtute. No matter how long Jake stayed on the planet and mingled with the natives, he would always be a human at heart. It’s hard to break out of old habits and it seemed as if their Father began to fall back into his sky people ways as of recent.

( “It’s okay, tsmukan,” Neteyam had whispered, Lo’ak barely hearing over the dramatic wails of his Mother. The boy had long been done with his crying, just blankly staring at the anklet wrapped around his foot. The last remaining thing he had of you.

“She doesn’t understand,” the older brother continued, stroking Lo’ak’s braids with such a gentleness, he thought for a second that it was you who was holding him. He only ever experienced such a gentle touch with you. It felt wrong that it wasn’t. That it was coming from his brother and not you.

“She does not,” Lo’ak confirmed, burying himself further into his brothers body, actively seeking his warmth to combat the shaking of his own body. “She never will,” he continued, eyes hardened to a glare as he stared at the intricately woven floor. She will never understand, he thought to himself, anger and sadness erupting in his chest. )

“A lot of the people heard your Mother last night,” Tsireya spoke up, sitting next to the dark blue boy. She felt bad for the teen. To be in love with someone you could never have must be heart wrenching. “I am sorry she acted the way she did. I hope she soon comes to the realization that you do truly love her,” she continued, trying to offer up the best comfort she could.

“I don’t think my Dad cared. Probably already knew before I told them. But,” he croaked out, voice coming out coarse as a result from his crying the night prior, “He didn’t do anything to stop Mom from saying those things about her, about me.”.

Having his Father allow his wife to continually insult his lover and him had made Lo’ak bitter. How come he wasn’t able to defend the one he loved but it was alright for Neytiri to throw such hurtful words to her own son? It all seemed hypocritical, backwards.

Tsireya frowned at Lo’ak’s words. She truly felt bad for him. She didn’t think that it was fair for his own Mother to react that harshly to the news. Didn’t she too fall in love with a human? It didn’t make sense to her.

“Oh, Lo’ak, I’m so sorry,” she whispered out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.

Nothing about this situation was ideal. Lo’ak wasn’t able to go and rescue you from the clutches of the RDA. Neytiri had scolded and reprimanded her youngest son for being in love, calling him all sorts of colorful names in the process. Jake hadn’t done anything to prevent his wife from her onslaught of scowls and hisses towards their son. The whole clan now probably knew about how Lo’ak was a sky demon lover. And Tsireya is the one comforting the boy when it should be his own family that we’re bringing him solace. It all became a mess so fast, everything crumbling down towards the ground within seconds.

Lo’ak only hummed in response to Tsireya’s sympathetic tone, too tired to give her an actual response. His eyes were bloodshot from all the tears he’s expelled over night. Lo’ak’s face was practically swollen from how hard he cried last night. He looked like a complete mess.

Eywa had to be punishing him for something for the deity that he grew up hearing about wouldn’t have allowed any of this to happen. Was it really that bad that Lo’ak loved you? That he loved a human? Surely the Great Mother held all of her children dear to her heart. So, why was she letting this happen? What was the bigger picture? What was the reason? Lo’ak wanted to know the answers to these questions so he could figure out why it was so wrong to love you when it felt so right to.

———

Pain spread throughout your lower back and hip, becoming warm as the nerve endings communicated with each other and the crushed blood cells came to the surface of your delicate skin. The minute Spider hijacked the ship and the vehicle surged forward, your body made harsh contact with the metal table in the middle of the room and the floor once it crashed amongst the jagged rocks.

“(Y/N)! You okay?” The human boy yelled out, scrambling up to his feet to get to your position against the floor.

A groan was your only answer, pulling yourself up the best you could before the soldiers and ship crew could grab you. You could feel the bruises already forming on your soft skin, heat spreading throughout the areas.

“Get them off the ship!” A voice demanded, catching your attention. Your heart dropped to your stomach upon hearing the words. They were going to take you somewhere farther from Lo’ak once more. Although you hadn’t gone down with Spider to see him and the others being held hostage at the front of the ship, you still didn’t want to be taken somewhere else where you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Hands wrapped themselves around your biceps, roughly pulling you up from where you kneeled, guiding you to the exit.

“Let go of me!” You hissed, ripping your arms from out of the strangers grip just in time to catch the mask being thrown at you by another.

“Put it on,” they demanded, putting on their own mask before looking at you as you put yours on, a scowl on your face as you did so.

The same person pushed you forward in front of them, urging you to walk forwards and down the metal stairs. You desperately wanted to push whoever was in front of you down the stairs and run towards wherever they were keeping Lo’ak and the rest. You only wanted to see him and make sure that he was okay. That he was still breathing.

“Make sure it’s tight,” a man commented, tugging on the side of your mask.

“She’s fine, dumbass,” Spider spat, pushing the man’s hand away from your masked face, putting himself between the man and you.

The man before you both scoffed and continued forward, leading the two of you somewhere on the ship where they kept their smaller boats.

Spider could sense your apprehension, grabbing your hand as the group of you continued to walk along the metal surface of the ship, shaking his head down at you as he dragged you besides him. He knew what you wanted to do, he wanted to do the same, but he knew that if you gave into that urge, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot either of you on the spot. He needed to keep you safe not just for Lo’ak’s sake but for himself too. You were his lifeline throughout this whole awful experience. Your presence itself helped him in more ways than one whenever he felt himself start to slip through the cracks while with Quaritch and Ardmore. If the two of you were going to make it out this afternoon, he needed you safe and alive.

Another man had exclaimed for the group to hurry up before the last of the boats left without them, getting cut off at the end of his sentence with a sharp exhale and groan as his body was thrown up against the wall of the ship.

Two large blue bodies had dropped down from above, pushing and punching the human men surrounding you and Spider, effectively killing them as they jumped from body to body.

“Lo’ak,” you whispered out, Spider pulling your back into his chest, away from Neteyam and Lo’ak, being wary of their size and strength.

A smile painted itself across your lips once the familiar amber eyes you dearly missed made contact with your colorful ones, time seemingly coming to a halt as the both of you took in each other's presence.

Lo’ak seemed to have filled out a bit, his biceps and thighs much larger than they were the last time you saw them. His hair was pulled back, showing off his sharpened jawline and defined shoulders and collarbones. Back in the forest, he rarely ever had his hair up, preferring it down so your fingers could have easy access to them whenever you wanted to run your smaller hands through the braids. His midsection seemed slimmer and tighter, displaying his developing abs along his stomach. Lo’ak seemed more confident in his physique as he stood there in front of you. You could practically feel it oozing off of him. The reef clan must’ve prioritized his training during his stay, you concluded.

As you gawked at the significant changes to your boyfriend's physical body, he too had his eyes glued to your figure.

Although much hadn’t changed, you still looked beautiful as ever. You had your hair down, different from your typical braid or usual hairstyle. You deemed having your hair out of your face more practical during your time in the forest. It just made everything easier as you explored and ran about. Due to Ardmore’s negligence to your physical needs, you figured it was easier to have your hair down most of the time, having no energy to do it yourself when she gave you a break from her torturous pursuits. Your hair had gotten longer during your time away from each other, inches longer than it previously was. It framed your face beautifully Lo’ak thought, smiling at you.

But before either of you could run to each other and embrace, a soldier had begun to stir and get up, a gun clutched in his grasp.

Lo’ak whipped his head towards the noise, bringing up the gun in his right hand up without thinking, finger squeezing the trigger as multiple rounds of bullets penetrated the human in front of him. The man slumped back, falling dead to the floor.

The air then became tense, the moment processing in everyone’s head for a second. Then, Neteyam had gently grabbed Lo’ak’s forearm and urged him forward, walking backwards as Spider pushed you in front of him, following the Na’vi boy.

The two boys in front of you had effortlessly jumped down from the top of the stairs to the ground below, swiftly standing up from their crouch afterwards. Sensing your hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his free arm around your waist and followed after his brother and Spider, holding you close to his side as he jumped down from the height. He only let go of your waist once you regained your bearings.

“Hello, ma sìlpeytsyìp,” Lo’ak whispers, free hand going up to your bare neck, softly grazing his thumb against the delicate skin.

“Hello, Lo’ak,” you whisper back, a smile on your face as you gazed at your lover. Oh how you wished you didn’t need this stupid mask so you could capture his lips with yours.

You missed the boy in front of you so much. It was hard to endure all those months away from each other. He consumed every single thought you had. So to have him in front of you, alive and breathing and not a figment of your imagination, made you want to crawl into his large arms and stay there forever.

Your small moment was interrupted by Spider, him exclaiming a thank you so much man as he turned towards the Na’vi teens.

Lo’ak had tore his eyes away from yours, staring at Spider as he thanked him and Neteyam for saving both of your asses back there. The blue boy smiled at his friend, going to express his welcome but his smile dropped as he saw the same Avatar soldiers from that night come into view, aiming their guns towards the group of teens.

As Lo’ak perked up to shoot at the familiar fake Avatars, Neteyam pulled him back just as quickly, ushering him and the lot of you to run and dodge the bullets as they fired and ricocheted off the railings and other obstacles between you and them.

“Go! Go!” Neteyam exclaimed, pushing the three of you towards a corner by the moonpool, snatching Lo’ak’s gun with a give me that!.

The older Na’vi began to shoot back at the soldiers shooting at you four, shouting at all of you to hurry and jump into the water beneath the opening in front of you. Before you could process Neteyam’s words, Lo’ak took you into his arms and rushed towards the moonpool, jumping over the railing and into the water. Cool water splashed against your body and sealed mask, making you involuntarily hold your breath as a reflex.

Upon breaching the surface, you exhaled the air you held, realizing that there was no need for you to hold it.

“That was insane cuz!” Lo’ak exclaimed, high-fiving Spider as he hollered back an excited hell yeah!. His arm around you had slipped from its grasp in order to hand out the high-five he gave Spider.

The three of you just narrowly escaped death and Lo’ak was hollering in delight from the adrenaline rush. Well, you thought, at least the sea didn’t change that about him.

The hairs on your skin stood on end once you heard the gurgle of Neteyam’s first gasp of breath after following you and the boys, diving into the water. Your body instinctively knew that something bad was bound to happen and you could only pray to Eywa that this wasn’t happening.

Everyone’s world stopped on its axis once Neteyam announced that he’d been shot, struggling to keep himself upright in the water. It was as if his own acknowledgment of being shot stripped him of his refined swimming skills, limbs not being able to keep up with the blood loss and shock of the event.

You were the first one by the boys side after the words fell from his lips, trying to help keep him afloat in the water. “It’s okay, Teyam,” you whispered, head barely above the water's surface as you kept the boy upright, “You’ll be okay.”.

You knew that your words were only empty promises. That realistically, Neteyam wasn’t going to make it. No amount of comforting whispers were going to cover up that fact or bring the boy some kind of solace from death's icy grip.

“Here! Get him up on here,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, drawing your attention from Neteyam to the owner.

A beautiful Na’vi girl had broke the surface of the water with a strange creature by her side. She gestured for you and the rest to get Neteyam up onto the animal so you could transport him somewhere where he could be helped.

The strange girls eyes fell on you, making your stomach drop and breath hitch in your throat. She must be of the clan that harbored the Sully family, you thought to yourself as you studied her much lighter blue skin and enchanting ocean blue eyes. Really pretty too.

“C’mon bro,” Lo’ak stuttered out, taking Neteyam out from your grip and into his, swimming towards the girl and her creature.

Spider had pulled you out from your stupor, tugging on your hand as he swam the both of you towards the group, grabbing the side of the creatures saddle as it readied itself to surge forward in the water. The boys hand had let go of your hand and went to grab your waist, pulling you flush to his side in preparation for the resistance of the water once the creature got the okay to take off. Your own hands wrapped themselves around Spider’s neck, muscles in your arms tightening in preparation as well.

Once Lo’ak situated Neteyam onto the creature behind him, he urged the animal to go forward through the bond, it hurriedly gliding through the water as it pushed against the current and new added weight on all sides.

You knew that once the five of you left the scene and headed towards somewhere else, everything was going to change. That it was all downhill from here.

———

Your hands were caked in blood. In Neteyam’s blood.

The red substance ran up your wrists and stopped at your mid forearm. The skin that was covered in it felt like it was on fire. It burned.

Your small hands that were desperately trying to slow down the blood pouring out of the boys chest were replaced by Lo’ak’s, his bigger body pushing you out of the way once Jake noticed your useless efforts and demanded his second son to replace your hands with his.

Tears spewed out from your waterline, falling down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. Your throat burned from your suppression of sobs, desperately trying to escape from your sealed lips. You didn’t feel worthy crying and sobbing over the fatally injured boy in front of you. It was your fault he was shot. Indirectly or not, if Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t come back for you and Spider, then he’d be fine and not bleeding out in front of his family. He wouldn't be laid dying in front of you.

You felt familiar, calloused hands wrapped themselves around your frame, bringing your body into their own.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Spider lowly whispered, bringing your face into his neck as you let out a quiet sob, leaning into his embrace. He knew that you were on the brink of breaking down and knew that you were keeping it in so as to not disturb the Sully family in their growing mourning. He saw the way Lo’ak pushed his way between you and Neteyam’s dying body, replacing your hands with his own against his brothers open chest. He knew that no one else around you would comfort you in the way that you needed, so he scurried to your side and brought you into his arms for the comfort that you craved.

You’ve never seen someone die. You’ve never seen someone die right in front of you. Your brain was scrambling to gather itself and process what was happening. But it was as if your brain couldn’t gather all the working pieces it needed and abandoned you in your own body, leaving you to pick up the pieces yourself and try to process what was happening.

Your body began to shiver as shock and adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your quiet sobs even harder to contain and actually keep silent.

The minute your ears picked up on Neytiri’s high pitched wails and screams, you knew that Neteyam had taken his last breath and finally joined Eywa in his afterlife. From that moment on, everything went by in a flash.

Neytiri, Jake, and Spider had left back towards the ship for a reason your ears didn’t pick up on, still ringing in the aftershocks of Neytiri’s screams. The Na’vi woman left on her ikran, it screeching as she made tshaleyu. The both of them took off in a blur from the speed of the animals ascent. Spider left you with a gentle kiss on the forehead and a promise that he’ll come back, smoothing down your damp hair before following after Jake. And Lo’ak. He only spared you a small glance before telling the reef Na’vi girl to stay with Neteyam’s body, gently patting her cheek before he hurried off to follow his Father and Spider.

Even though your mind struggled to process and piece together what just happened, it was still able to process the soft touch Lo’ak bestowed upon the girl in front of you and the sympathetic look he gave her before he left. How she reached out for him as he walked away and the look on her face as she watched. Oh.

Your heart broke at the realization. Lo’ak finally found someone that was suitable for him. Someone that was able to give him the future he deserved. Someone that was able to give him everything you couldn’t. And more tears fell from your eyes, heart crying out at the heartbreak.

Neytiri was right. You should’ve stayed with your own kind.

———

You didn’t stay long for Neteyam’s funeral. As soon as it ended, you treaded your way out of the water and walked somewhere secluded.

It was too much being there. It was hard watching Jake and Neytiri place their eldest son down onto the orange glowing tendrils. It was hard watching him be absorbed by them, disappearing into the glowing mass. Guilt riddled your consciousness, yelling at you that you shouldn’t be there. That it was your fault that he was with Eywa now. That you took away Jake and Neytiri’s firstborn son from their grasp too soon. You felt that your presence itself was a reminder as to why Neteyam was no longer breathing.

So, you sat yourself in a secluded area on the small island, situating yourself between the large rocks that perfectly hid your smaller frame. You didn’t want anyone disturbing you, especially Lo’ak. You didn’t think you’d be able to face him again after tonight.

“You suck at sneaking away, you know that right?” A soft voice spoke out, making you jump in response from its abrupt reveal. You had been sitting in silence for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted.

Turning your head, you saw Kiri standing there, face still painted in the white substance her Mother lathered onto her face before attending her elder brother's funeral. She held a small smile in your presence, leaning down to properly sit by your side.

You only hum and nod your head in response, turning your gaze back towards the lapping waves against the soft sand of the shoreline. You felt unworthy of the girl's presence. Like you shouldn’t stare at her for too long or else Eywa would strike you down with lightning for it. Unworthy of still being her friend even after what had occurred hours prior.

“I do not blame you, (Y/N),” she spoke up, large amber eyes glued to the side of your face. “None of us do. It was not your doing for what happened that night. You were not the one with the gun,” she continued, her blue five-fingered hand coming to rest up against your shoulder in comfort.

Growing up, Kiri always knew what you were feeling by just seeing the expression on your face. It was a bit weird growing up. She knew what you felt even before you could process it yourself. But, oftentimes, you were grateful for someone like Kiri. For someone who knew you so deeply that they didn’t need words to confirm how you felt. She just knew.

Kiri did truly mean the words she spoke. She did not think that Neteyam’s death was yours nor Spiders' doing. You two were just kids who were taken hostage and desperately needed saving. You are just kids. Your whole lives were a cause of an unfortunate event but that doesn’t mean that everything bad that happens to her family and to the other natives of Pandora were solely you and Spider's fault. The two of you shouldn’t carry that heavy burden.

“But, if Lo’ak and Neteyam didn’t come after us – ” you sputtered, tears already welling in your waterline as your throat began to tighten with emotion.

The Na’vi girl knew where you were coming from. What your thought process was and how you felt. A perk of being one of your good friends she supposed.

“But nothing, (Y/N),” she cut you off, voice firm and absolute. There was no way you were going to change her mind about the situation at hand. It wasn’t your fault. Period.

“Neteyam and Lo’ak chose to come after you and Spider. They both knew of the consequences that came with following after you. No one except Quaritch and his men are to blame,” she said with finality, not needing you to further intrude on what she said. No matter how hard you’d try to convince her that it was your fault, she wouldn’t believe you. Her mind had already been made up and you weren’t the one to blame.

Only more tears began to gather and spill from your eyes at your friend's words. It was nice to hear that she, and most likely everyone else, didn’t blame you for what happened. But it didn’t help ease the guilt you felt. Nothing could aid in the guilt you felt deep within. Perhaps with time it would go away, but even then, you highly doubted that.

“Lo’ak still loves you if that is what’s causing this worry,” Kiri whispered out, only loud enough for you to hear just in case anyone else was wandering around.

During their stay at Awa’atlu, Kiri could tell that your absence had deeply disturbed her younger brother. It was evident in everything he did. Lo’ak always had a frown on his face and found excuses to pick fights with Ao’nung and his gang of friends. It was like he didn’t have a reason to behave accordingly or live anymore. Like his sense of self was lost when you were taken by Quaritch and his soldiers. He desperately missed you and she could tell that the only thing he wanted to do was get you back and have you in his arms once again.

Your stomach turned in knots and your heart stopped at Kiri’s comment. Did he really? What about the girl that helped you that night?

“I – I’m not too sure about that. What about the girl?” You asked, face damp with tears. You saw how Lo’ak treated her that night. How he gently put his hand on her cheek and how she reached out for him with a call of his name before leaving the both of you on that rock with Neteyam’s body. How he barely spared you a glance before leaving.

You were confident that he had finally found the one the Great Mother had destined him to be with. You knew that your time together was limited, the clock starting the minute you confessed your feelings to the teen boy. It broke your heart seeing him act that way with her but you knew that he’d eventually come to his senses about you and want to pursue a Na’vi who could actually give him the future he deserved. If anything, you were pleased that he found someone like him. He would no longer be held back by you.

“What? What girl? What are you talking about?” Kiri asked, shock and concern laced within her voice. She knew that Lo’ak was too in love with you to look at anyone else the way he looked at you. So your words confused her immensely. Why did you think he no longer saw you?

The blue girl ransacked her brain for the girl you were insinuating Lo’ak was into. She kept drawing blanks, until her mind settled onto the one person that was a great comfort to Lo’ak during their stay.

“You mean Tsireya?” She asked, a barely audible giggle coming out of her mouth.

To be frank, Kiri found the situation a little funny. Lo’ak was such a lovesick puppy for you that he often refused to talk to anyone who wasn’t you. He continuously asked about you before the two of you got together, always bothering Kiri as she made her way back from the lab. He also handmade many jewelry pieces for you, even if he sucked at it and needed Tuk’s help. Why would you think his affections would change that fast?

“She’s pretty,” you hum, eyes still glued on the moving waves in the distance. Really pretty. “She’s good for him, Ri. She’d be able to give him the future he deserves. Plus, Neytiri would actually like her. It was never in the cards for us,” you finished, voice now eerily calm and void of the sadness you expressed earlier.

Kiri’s mouth fell agape at your words, eyes widening to the size of yovo fruit. What the fuck?

“(Y/N), you cannot mean that. Tsireya and Lo’ak are only friends. That’s all,” she began, trying her best to save you from your overwhelming thoughts before they consumed you whole. “He still loves you. Please believe that,” she pleaded.

You finally tore your gaze from the water and up towards the glowing amber orbs of your friend. “He left me there, Kiri. All alone with no goodbye. Barely even glanced my way before he followed after Spider and Jake,” you confessed, heart breaking all over again at the memory. It was hours before they all returned to the rock. Spider was the only one to comfort you as Lo’ak was too busy with Tsireya. The rest of the family barely even spared you a glance as they pulled each other into an embrace.

Oh, Kiri thought, ears pinning to the sides of her head. Did she interpret Lo’ak and Tsireya’s body language wrong? Were they more than friends?

Neither of you uttered another word, sitting peacefully side by side as the two of you listened to the soothing sound of the lapping waves against the shore. A war was occurring within your head and walls were built to protect you from the oncoming grenades you were sure would be thrown at you by your lover once he confessed that he was no longer in love with you. If you could even call him yours anymore.

From afar, the subject of your conversation was watching the two of you converse. He so desperately wanted to run to you and gather you into his arms and keep you there forever. But, he knew that you were no longer his. He saw how Spider treated you so gently. How he placed a kiss on the crown of your head before scurrying away to lead Jake to the ship. How he was the first one to comfort you when they arrived, beating him in embracing you and soothing you as you sobbed against his bleeding chest. And even though his heart was breaking at the possibility of you no longer loving him, he only wanted you to be happy and if that was with Spider, then he’d let you go.

———

Days had passed since your conversation with Kiri. She had never left your side since, wanting to be there for you as you navigated your grief and heartbreak. Your words still stunned the poor girl. She was sure that you were wrong but she would admit that it was awfully suspicious the amount of times she saw Lo’ak and Tsireya together. And always seeing them together, especially after you pointed it out, didn’t help. Kiri was so sure of her brothers love for you that she nearly laughed in your face once those words left your mouth. But, she too began to doubt the affections her younger brother held for you.

Kiri often spent most of her time around you, but during the times she wasn’t able to, Tuktirey had no problem keeping you company.

“No! You’re doing it wrong,” Tuk exclaimed, groaning over your lack of weaving skills.

The young girl had been attempting to teach you the new way of weaving she had learned during her time on the island. She was so excited to show you what she had learned over the months that she nearly crushed your smaller, human body in a tight hug upon hearing your agreement. The young girl profusely apologized when she heard your panicked wheeze against her collarbone, quickly getting to work after.

“I’m sorry, TukTuk. Weaving’s never really been my thing,” you apologize, gently smiling at the child next to you. She was so excited to show you how to weave the Metkayina way, her eyes practically glowed in excitement once you agreed.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). I struggled with it too for some time. It just takes practice,” she responded, a large gummy smile directed your way. “Plus, that just means I can make you more!” She added, trying to lift up your dampened mood.

It seemed as if everything bothered you these days. Like everything was a reminder as to why you’d never be good enough for the secondborn Omatikaya prince. A reminder of the things you couldn’t give Lo’ak. Of the things you couldn’t do to please your mate. Weaving was a huge part of the Omatikaya culture, allowing one to express their gratitude and affection towards their intended. Something that you lacked severe skill in. Sure you could make a few bracelets here and there but it was nothing compared to those of the native Omatikaya who put so much effort into their weaving, going as far as making their own unique weave pattern for their beloved. Even though you wanted to refuse Tuktirey’s plea, for it was another painful reminder that you could never have Lo’ak, you still accepted it and endured the emotional turmoil you experienced. You wouldn’t allow your own feelings to stump Tuk’s happiness and eagerness to share with you something new she learned.

“You can make me as many as you want, Tuk,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips as you gently patted her head, ruffling her hair in the process. The young girl shrieked at your action, pushing your hand away from her freshly braided hair, giggling afterwards.

You desperately missed moments like these during your captivity. You missed playing around with the Sully children and hearing Tuk’s high pitched giggle as she ran away from your hands as you reached out to tickle her. You missed Kiri’s wise words as she spoke about whatever came to mind. You missed Lo’ak’s comforting embrace as he enveloped you into his arms whenever you needed it. You missed Neteyam’s kind nature, helping you out whenever you found yourself falling behind. You’d always miss Neteyam, his absence another reminder as to why you would never be enough for the one you loved.

A loud cough from the doorway of the marui pod broke you and Tuk out of your giggling fit, both of you whipping your heads to the figure standing in front of the opening. Your heart dropped at who was in front of you.

“Mom!” Tuktirey squealed, jumping up to her feet and towards her sa’nok.

You could tell that Neytiri wasn’t excited about your presence, her hardened glare never leaving your face even as she bent down to embrace her youngest child. Over the course of the days following Neteyam’s funeral, Neytiri was colder towards you and Spider. She rarely ever let her children see you and often fought with Jake on this matter. She always argued about the same thing. How you and Spider weren’t good for her children. How the both of you deserved to be with your people. How you bring nothing but pain to this family. That if Jake never took the both of you in, they wouldn’t be in the position. You heard most of what she was yelling about almost every night, your shared guilt with Spider growing evermore.

“I…uh…I think I should get going Tuk. I just remembered that Kiri wanted to show me around somewhere,” you awkwardly said, smiling at the young girl before quickly heading out, barely giving her enough time to say her goodbyes to you.

You sped walk out from the Sully’s pod and onto the soft sand of Awa’atlu. You knew that you were no longer welcomed in Neytiri’s presence and you respected her wishes by excusing yourself and making your way out. It was the least you could do considering all that she went through.

Hours passed by with you sitting in the same place Kiri found you days prior, just thinking. Something that you found yourself doing way too often. It was hard to get out of your head and even harder for others to help you out of it. Most days, Spider wasn’t even able to help you with your problem and he almost always was able to save you from your own mind. Today was no exception regarding getting yourself stuck in your head and going around in circles.

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked, effectively pulling you out from your stupor.

Your eyes shifted from where they were glued to onto the person standing next to you, making your whole body tense and stomach churn in anxiety. Tsireya.

The light blue Na’vi girl stood in front of you with a look of concern etched on her face. Her skin was covered in a thin line of droplets, a clear sign she had just came back from a swim. You wondered if she felt bad for you and approached you out of pity. If Lo’ak had told her about your past together and if she was approaching you to inform you about their new union. If she was here to tell you about what her and the other Metkayina thought of you, preparing yourself for harsh insults and words.

“Are you okay?” She asks, sitting on her knees as she leaned forward a bit, big blue eyes practically staring into your soul.

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. You were usually very careful in how your body reacted whenever you got stuck in thought. Always giving yourself time to release the tension in your body and relax before returning back to the thought you put on pause. So you were very confused as to why Tsireya was concerned with if you were okay or not.

“You just…seemed lost in thought.” She says, hands gently folding together in her lap. “I’ve noticed that your hair,” she points to your eyebrows, “come together when you’re thinking. Lo’ak does the same thing.”.

Your heart sped up at the mention of Lo’ak’s name, only for it to drop again once you realize who’s talking to you. Keep yourself in check (Y/N), you thought to yourself, you’re in the prescence of Lo’ak’s mate. Of course she knows things like that about him. You shouldn’t act like this.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine!” You reply, a half assed smile creeping up on your lips, not quite reaching your eyes like it usually does. There was no way in hell that you’d tell Tsireya what was going on inside your head. That wasn’t a burden she needed on her shoulders.

The girl didn’t look too convinced at your response but didn’t push it further. She only nodded and continued to look at you, big eyes studying your human features. Tsireya had rarely seen you around and when she did, it was very brief before you disappeared out of sight again. So she couldn’t help but look at you as you sat there. You were very pretty, she noted. No wonder Lo’ak fell so helplessly in love with her, she thought. Your beauty was something Tsireya had never seen before.

“Tsireya!” A gruff and deep voice shouted, catching the girls attention as she turned her back towards the voice. It was her Father.

“Oh. I’m sorry (Y/N), but I have to go. I do hope you feel better soon,” she quickly said before walking away, her tail swinging gently from side to side as she strides away.

The whole encounter you had with the girl made you even more confused and sad. She was so nice to you. She gave you no reason to hate her. But you couldn’t help but feel it as she left you there, longing for the life you could never have.

———

“You’re being so sulky,” Spider murmured, arms crossed as he watched you stare at your food in front of you.

Norm and Max had cooked dinner nearly two hours ago and you were the only one who hadn’t finished your plate. You didn’t have much of an appetite these days either. You were too occupied with thinking or trying to avoid Lo’ak at all costs to properly eat. You knew it wasn’t something you should be doing but you found yourself doing it anyway.

“You haven’t even talked to him! You don’t know if it’s true or not,” he continued, sick of seeing both you and Lo’ak moping around and avoiding each other at every turn. He’s told the both of you multiple times to just talk about it but the both of you were too stubborn for your own good.

You ignored Spider’s comment, rolling your eyes at the boy besides you. You really didn’t need him meddling in your business.

Your silence was Spider’s last straw as he slammed his hands against the metal table, surprising you and making you jump back at the action. Your plate shifted and jumped in its place, the fork clattering onto the floor.

“Fine. If neither of you want to talk this out on your own, then I’ll do it for you,” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and hauling you up from yours by your arm.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You screamed, trying to pry Spider’s fingers off of your bicep.

He only scoffed at your response and shook his head, leading you to the entrance of the lab that sat in the secluded parts of the island, tossing you a mask before shoving you out of the metal lab and out into the Pandora air.

Shortly after the events with Quaritch and the tulkun hunters, Norm and Max had decided that it would be best if they put one of their smaller labs on Awa’atlu for the two of you. It was definitely smaller than the lab you lived in at High Camp, but you didn’t complain. At least you had somewhere to go and hide whenever you didn’t want to see Lo’ak that particular day.

“You fucker!” You shouted, banging the flat of your palm up against the glass of the door. Spider only ignored your calls from the inside, eating your untouched food. You groaned in frustration as you watched the boy simply devour your cold food.

Rustling of leaves were heard from your right, making your heart stop in its confines in anxiety. Your breath hitched in your throat as you slowly turned your head to see who or what caused the noise, especially this late at night. Your stomach dropped to the floor once you saw those familiar amber eyes peek out from behind a shrub.

“Lo’ak?” You whispered, not trusting your voice at the moment.

Upon hearing your voice, the culprit perked up, completely revealing themselves to you.

“Yawne?” He asked, unsure if he should move closer to you or stay where he was. Lo’ak had been craving to be in your presence ever since his brothers funeral. He only wanted you in his arms again and even though he had you back, he didn’t completely have you.

The two of you stood there, in front of each other for a while, neither of you daring to move closer or speak up first.

It was strange to see you after not having seen you for months. You looked the same but didn’t at the same time. Lo’ak didn’t know how he didn’t notice the first time he saw you on that ship. You looked more mature. Like you had seen or experienced something you shouldn’t have.

“How are you?” Lo’ak asks, finally breaking the awkward silence between the two of you.

You internally scoffed at that question, shaking your head as you did so. Yeah, I’m totally fine. Leaving me with your dead brother for hours didn’t do anything to me at all.

“Fine,” you answer, beginning to try to open the lab door with all your might, shaking the lock. Spider must’ve locked it from the inside or something, you thought, promising yourself that you would choke the boy out once you got back into the lab.

Lo’ak flinched at your rough voice and repetitive shaking of the door, ears drawing downwards as he watched. He’s never seen you act so violent before. Never seen you so desperate to get back into the lab. Usually, back in the forest, you’d do anything and everything to stay out of the lab for as long as you could. So to see you act the opposite made Lo’ak frown, especially since it was because he was out with you.

“Yawne,” Lo’ak tried again, taking a step closer to you before quickly drawing back as you scowled at him to stay where he was. “What is wrong? Talk to me, please,” the boy pleaded, tail falling limp between his legs.

“I told you. Nothing. Nothing is wrong,” you replied, eyes never leaving the stupid handle of the door you were trying to pry open.

Lo’ak knew you were lying. Something was most definitely wrong. He could see it in your eyes. How badly you wanted to share whatever was bothering you but something withheld you from uttering the words. It made him ever the more desperate to get you to talk to him.

The boy knew that showing up at the lab unannounced wasn’t going to get you to talk to him, especially since he too was also ignoring your existence. That he’d have to try harder in order to get you to speak with him.

“Yawne –”.

“Stop! Stop calling me that! I am not your yawne!” You shouted, ceasing your prying of the locked metal door. Hearing that term come out of his mouth made you want to cry. It made you want to scream, kick, and hit him for calling you that when you knew that he called another it. He had Tsireya to be his yawne. That was no longer a title you held.

Confusion and hurt spread itself across Lo’ak’s face, brows furrowing together in confusion. What did you mean? Why were you no longer his beloved?

“Why? Why not?” He shouted back, anger quickly arising within the teen boy. “What have I done to make you angry with me?” He asked, ears drawing further downward and pressing harder against the side of his skull.

You wanted to pull at your hair in frustration and anger. You just wanted to go inside and pass out before having to face the Sully family again. You wanted Lo’ak to leave you alone in your heartbreak. To stop haunting your dreams. To stop reminding you of the life you longed to have with him.

“Nothing and everything, Lo’ak!” You screamed, finally fed up, “You have done nothing and yet have done everything to upset me. First, you leave me with Neteyam for hours. You left me alone with the body of someone who I loved. You left me alone in my grieving. I had to wash away the blood and grime from his body as you did what? Fight Quaritch? Get Spider nearly killed? Then…then you touched her so lovingly. So gently. When you barely even spared me a glance. You comforted her and hugged her so tight to yourself that I couldn’t tell where you started and she ended.”.

“I only wanted you to comfort me. To hold me as I cried. But you were too busy with her. And I understand, Lo’ak. I do. As much as it pains me to realize and say it. I know that you and Tsireya are together, a thing. It’s as obvious as the mask that I need. And it’s okay. Really. I knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to last. I am human and you deserve so much more than what I can give you. I cannot give you children, make the bond with you, or even be properly considered one of the People. You deserve someone who could give you that. Give you everything and more. I mean, Tsireya is Tsakarem for crying out loud! She is much more suited to be your mate than I am, Lo’ak.”.

By the time you were finished with your speech, your chest was rising up and down dramatically, trying to gulp down air as quickly as the mask would let you. You knew that once you expressed your feelings and how you felt, it would change everything. So in order to ignore Lo’ak’s intense gaze and to prevent yourself from succumbing to the need to cry, you began your attempts at trying to open up the locked door or at least trying to get someone’s attention so they’d save you.

Your hands began to hit the door again, switching to messing with the door handle after a couple of beats pass with no one coming to your rescue.

“I confessed.” Lo’ak blurted out, desperation covered his face. His ears were fully up in alert, twitching at the sound of your hands stopping against the hard metal of the lab.

You stopped your movements, standing on the stairs of the lab in shock, trying to process the words that just came out of the boy's mouth. Confessed? What did he mean by confessed?

He needed you to know that what you were saying wasn’t true. That he wasn’t seeing Tsireya and that he’ll never see her in that light as he sees you. That his heart only held love for you and no one else. That your entire being consumed him heart, body, and soul.

“I told my Mother about us. About our relationship. About how much I love you. About how much I adore and see you. About that night at the Tree of Souls. I told her everything,” he rambled, tears clinging to his waterline as he tried to hurriedly blink them away. “She wasn’t happy about it, obviously. But, I didn’t care. I still don’t. Tsireya and I have never and will never be a thing. My heart only beats for you. My lungs only breathe for you. My body and soul only long for you. Everything is only ever for you, ma yawne. I hold so much love for you that it hurts. Did you know that the afternoon I heard of a young boy and girl being held captive at the Ta’unui clan, I almost immediately took off on my ilu to get you back? That I fought with my Sa’nok over you? That’s when I told her. Everyone heard and I don’t care that they did. I would scream out my love for you on the highest floating mountain if you asked me to. I’d do anything for you, (Y/N). Please, please believe that.”.

Lo’ak took in deep breaths once he finished his speech, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air after depriving them of it. He hoped that what he said was enough to get you to see how he felt about you, how he still felt about you. And if you didn’t, then he’d try again and again and again until he ran out of air to breathe. He needed you in his life. He didn’t care that you couldn’t bare him children or make tshaleyu with him. All he needed was you and that would be enough for all of his lifetimes.

“Lo’ak,” you croaked out, hot tears running down your cheeks and gathering at the bottom of your mask. You had no idea that he felt that strongly for you. Sure he mentioned some things from time to time but he never seemed this serious about it. You could feel the emotions of his words as they hit you square in the face.

“I don’t care if you can’t carry my children or that you can’t make the bond with me. I don’t. I only care that you’re in my life and that you love me just as much. You have been such a big part of my life for so long that I can’t imagine you not in it. Nga yawne lu oer,” Lo’ak finally finishes, kneeling on his two knees to get to your height, gently taking your softer hands in his rougher one’s.

All of the doubts you had about yourself and the relationship you had with the boy in front of you vanished the moment he touched you. Like everything else disappeared and it was only you two in the world.

“I am so sorry if it seemed like I had any interest in Tsireya, my love,” Lo’ak whispered, bringing your hands up to his lips as he pecked them with a kiss, “To be honest, I thought Spider and you were a thing as well.”.

At his confession, you bursted out laughing, not being able to hold in your reaction to the ridiculous thought.

“I know, I know,” Lo’ak tsked, shaking his head, “I had asked Spider about it and he had the same exact reaction. He wouldn’t shut up about it either, telling me how ridiculous I was for thinking such a thing. As well as how much of an idiot I was too.”.

“Well,” you hummed, taking your hands out of your boyfriends and placed them onto his blue cheeks, “I guess we’re both idiots then.”.

Lo’ak chuckled at your response, shaking his head as he finally brought you into his arms, immediately burying his head into the crook of your neck as he got a sniff of your dearly missed scent. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he held you close, almost completely enveloping you in his body.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you speak up, fingers running through Lo’ak’s braids. You felt bad for immediately assuming Lo’ak would move on that fast and get with Tsireya. You knew it wasn’t something he’d do but your overwhelming insecurities took over.

The Na’vi boy only hums, burying his head farther into your neck. “It’s okay,” he said, “I did the same. Nothing to stress about now. I got you back and that’s all that matters”.

The two of you sat there for what felt like only minutes but was hours in reality. The sun had begun to poke through the horizon, sunrise vastly approaching.

“Wanna go inside? We could spend the morning sleeping and cuddling if you want,” you suggest, eyelids getting droopy as your lack of last nights sleep began to catch up with you. You shifted your head so it laid on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yawning as you did so.

Your lover only nodded in agreement, delicately moving into the small lab and removing your mask from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead as you began to snore in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled down at you before making his way to your established room, content with how the night turned out.

As he gently laid you in the soft bed and tucked the both of you in, he knew that he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with you so as long as you pleased. That there was no one else but you that he truly saw himself with. The teen would do anything for you, no matter what it entailed.

[valwrites-stuff]

Hi, you write so beautifully for current James and I was wondering if I could request one, if that’s alright please? They both meet by chance and feel some connection towards each other. Reader isn’t very confident, but decides to give in and experience some loving even if it’s temporary and maybe not real. They spend an intense night full of passion, lots of emotions, different poses, etc. James is very sweet and worships all of her. They also talk to each other about everything and their bond only gets stronger. Day comes and he wakes up alone in bed as she left knowing that there never could be something between them. Feel free to add either a happy or sad ending. Thank you!! ❤️

So sorry this took me so long, I hope this is what you had in mind ❤️

Sweet connection

James Hetfield x Reader ☆ Fluff and Smut 

Beneath the fluorescent lights on the inside of the gas station, the day unfolds like a cracked vinyl record, the same monotonous tune repeating itself with every passing hour. You stand behind the counter, absentmindedly sorting through a delivery of tobacco products. It was just another boring day where customers came and went, each interaction as forgettable as the last.

“Hey, can I get one of these, please?” a voice calls out, breaking through your dull concentration.

You turn, expecting to see a tired regular or a bleary-eyed traveler seeking a caffeine fix. Instead, your heart leaps into your throat as you process the sight before you, the unmistakable silhouette of James Hetfield, standing in front of you with casual confidence.

You blink as the world suddenly dims, the buzzing lights and distant sounds fading into the background. “Oh, um... sure!" You manage, scolding yourself for how utterly starstruck you feel. You can practically feel your cheeks turning crimson.

James raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Is that a yes?” His voice was rich and deep, like the heavy thrum of a guitar riff, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Y-yes! Right away!” you stammer, focusing your attention back to the display of cigars as if the neatly arranged packages would provide you with the composure you desperately need. Your fingers tremble as you fish one out, nearly dropping it twice before you turn around to the register and the Metallica frontman.

As you scan the item, you risk a glance at him. James was studying you with an amused expression, those piercing blue eyes strangely warm, as if they saw more than just a stranger. “You a fan?” he asks with a chuckle, seemingly being able to see right through you, leaning against the counter, his presence both intimidating and thrilling.

“Uh, yeah! I mean, I am, but—” you interrupt yourself, unsure how to express your admiration without sounding like a babbling fangirl. “I just didn’t expect to see you here. Like, in this... gas station,” she replied awkwardly.

He chuckles again, that rich sound echoing in your ears, and you can't ignore how his soft laughter makes you feel all fluttery inside. “Yeah, I tend to haunt the unlikeliest of places."

“I can see that,” you say with a shy smile, thankful that your voice seems to be regaining some of its earlier confidence. You hand him the sealed package and your fingers brush slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through you. His gaze lingers on yours, and time feels like it has hit the brakes.

He glances around, as if noticing for the first time how small and mundane the place is. “You know, it’s nice to get away from the limelight sometimes. Just bought a house around here. That's if you're wondering what I'm doing in a small town like this." 

His words take you by surprise. You had never expected to hear something so personal from a rockstar. It was as if he felt a strange sense of trust in you, despite knowing you are a fan.

"I can understand that, Mr. Hetfield," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. "It must be hard to live a life in the spotlight."

He nods, a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Yeah. Sometimes, it's nice to just be... normal, you know? To have a quiet place to retreat to."

"It's nice here, would you like me to show you around sometime?" You ask, the question spilling from your lips before you can stop it.

He looks at you, surprised, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "I wouldn't mind that," he says, his eyes twinkling.

"Well I...you know where you can find me." You smile and watch his curious features before he pays for his cigars and gas.

You talk for a few more minutes, your conversation flowing effortlessly despite your nervous demeanor.

As he turns to leave, you can't help but feel a strange sense of connection with him. Despite your vastly different lives, you share a common desire for peace and simplicity.

"Thank you." he says, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "It's nice to talk to someone who understands. Oh and call me James."

With that, he strides out of the gas station, leaving behind a lingering sense of wonder and an unexpected memory. As you watch his car disappear into the distance, you can't shake the feeling that you just had an encounter with a man who, beneath the rockstar persona, was simply a human being longing for simple connection.

You feel your gaze drawn towards the window, the cars passing by, a welcoming distraction from your rambling thoughts. Lost in your reverie, you barely notice the incessant buzzing of a phone.

Glancing down at your own, you realize with a start that it was not the source of the noise. Your eyes fall on the foreign device resting on the counter—James' phone. A sigh escapes your lips as you realize the predicament.

Tossing up your options, you decide to return the phone after work. You know you could inquire in town about his new abode or simply search for his distinctive car.

Curiosity mingles with a sense of anticipation as you plot your evening adventure. You'll find a way to make his forgotten phone a bridge, a chance to cross the space that separates you, a chance to maybe find your way into his life.

You clock out of work at the end of your shift and get into your car, ready to face your mission. As you drive your heart beats a little faster and after a few wrong turns, you finally navigate your way to a lakeside neighborhood, where the air carries the scent of pine and tranquility.

There you spot it, a sleek black luxury SUV parked in the driveway of a very modern style country house. You park your own car and step out, your pulse racing. As you approach the house, each step is a mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he’s not home? What if he is? Would he even remember you?

You walk up to the front door, the air thick with anticipation and ring the doorbell. Moments later, the door swings open, revealing that familiar face. He blinks in surprise, and his eyes widen in recognition. "It's you!" he exclaims, and suddenly, the world fades away.

“Your phone,” you manage to say, holding it out like a peace offering. His soft laugh dances through the evening air.

"Oh wow, there it is, I had no clue where I left my phone, I was searching the whole house. Can't believe you went through all this trouble to bring it back to me despite not knowing where to find me...," he says, his voice filled with gratitude.

"It was no trouble at all...it's a small town you know..." you reply, trying to keep your cool despite the fact that you were standing in front of one of your biggest idols. "I just wanted to make sure you got it back."

"Well thank you, I appreciate it," James says, a small smile playing on his lips. "Would you like to come in for a drink? I feel like I owe you one."

You can't believe your luck. Not only are you standing at James Hetfield's front door, but now he is inviting you into his home. "Oh I...I would love to," you say, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.

As you walk into his house, you can't help but take in every detail. A very rustic farmhouse style but at the same time very modern and the air was filled with the faint scent of incense. James leads you to the living room and offers some coffee which you gladly accept.

"So, I didn't get your name did I?" James asks from the kitchen, before taking a seat on the couch next to you after placing two cups of coffee on the wooden table in front of you.

"I'm Y/N," you reply, feeling a rush of nerves at the thought of actually having a conversation with him.

"Well, Y/N, I have to say, I'm impressed by your honesty and determination, I haven't even realized I lost my phone for the longest time, and that anyone who found it would respect my privacy is quite a rare thing I guess...," James says, his eyes meeting yours.

You feel your cheeks flush at his words. "Oh I promise I haven't touched it since finding it on the counter...I just couldn't let your phone go missing," you say, trying to sound casual.

James chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, I'm glad you did. And who knows, maybe it was fate that brought us together. It's nice to get to know someone from around the area you know." 

You can't believe what you are hearing. Is James Hetfield actually flirting with you? You take a sip of your coffee, trying to calm your racing heart.

As the evening goes on, you talk and laugh, sharing stories and getting to know each other. And as the hours pass, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this chance encounter at work could turn into something more for real.

"You know I'm having quite a hard time these days, after my recent divorce..." James says as he's staring ahead as if to avoid your gaze despite deciding to tell you about his personal problems.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you," you reply sympathetically, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"Yeah, it's been tough. I never thought I would be going through something like this. I thought she was the one, you know?" James says, his voice filled with a hint of sadness.

"I understand. It's never easy when a relationship comes to an end, especially when you thought it would last forever," you say, trying to offer some words of encouragement.

"I just feel a little lost, like I put so much of myself into that relationship, and now it's gone," James tells you.

"It's okay to feel that way, James. It's all a part of the healing process. Just remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and want to help you through a difficult time," you say, squeezing his hand gently.

"I appreciate that, I really do. It's just hard, you know." James says.

"Take it one day at a time. Allow yourself to process your feelings. And remember, there is always hope for a brighter future, even in the darkest of times," you say, offering him a small smile of reassurance.

"Thank you for listening, and for being here for me. It means more than you know," James says, finally meeting your gaze with a look of gratitude in his eyes.

"Of course, James. I want to see you happy. You deserve nothing less," you say, giving his hand one final squeeze before letting go.

As you sit in silence, the weight of James' words hanging in the air, you realize that sometimes the greatest act of kindness is simply being there for someone in their time of need. And in that moment, you know that you will do whatever it takes to help James find his way back to happiness. As much as you can do that is.

"Thank you, really. I'll be fine, I just had to get away for a bit, so I came here and bought this house. You know a place I can come back to whenever I need to clear my head for a while."

"You sure made the right decision like you'll love it here and this view? Look at that, it's fantastic." Admires the sight out of the large windows, giving you an amazing overview of the lake outside. 

As you stare out into the scenery, James nods but keeps his eyes on you, having a much better view, admiring the person in front of him, yearning for something that makes him feel desired and something that reminds him of his once felt love towards someone. 

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, reflected in the still surface of the lake. "I know it's beautiful," James says, his voice calm and soft, "but not quite as beautiful as you..."

You turn your head, catching the warmth in his gaze. He had moved closer, his arm resting against the back of the sofa, his hand gently resting on your thigh. A shiver runs down your spine, not from the cool air, but from the intensity of his eyes.

"James..." you breathe, your heart hammering against your ribs. He doesn't speak, simply leans in, his lips coming to brush yours in a feather-light touch. His kiss was slow, a gentle exploration, tasting of the unspoken desires.

You feel a rush of emotions flood through you as you melt into his touch. The world around you seems to fade away as you lose yourself in the moment. His hand moves from your thigh to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

You can feel the heat between you, the electricity crackling in the air. It seems to be a moment of pure connection, a moment where everything else ceases to exist. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

You kiss him back eagerly as he pulls you closer. And then, suddenly, he grabs your leg and pulls you into his lap, holding onto your thighs to keep you seated.

His touch is electric, sending a jolt of desire through you as you look into his eyes, dark with desire. "Do you want this?" he whispers against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

You nod, unable to form words as you lean in to kiss him again. The connection between you is intense, a fire burning between you that threatens to consume you both.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you look into his eyes and whisper, "Yes, I need this..."

And with that, you surrender yourself to the passion that had been building between you, letting go of all inhibitions as you give yourself over.

You can feel James' hands grabbing onto your hips, pulling you closer to him, body pressed against his. The contact is making you shiver and your heart pound in your chest. 

His lips find your neck, placing hot kisses on your skin and you moan softly, hands moving to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding their way underneath the fabric, feeling his warm skin. 

Your touch makes goosebumps rise on James' skin, his lips moving to your ear, breath hot against your flesh.

"You're so fucking sexy," he whispers, his hands moving to your thighs, fingers digging into them. You bite your bottom lip, hands wandering to the front of his pants, your fingers nervously fumbling with his belt. You can already feel the hardness through James' jeans, your body influenced by the action.

You let out a soft breath as your digits finally manage to undo his belt, hand slipping inside his pants, your fingers wrapping around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Y/N," James gasps, his hips bucking into your hand. You start to stroke him, hand moving up and down his length, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that had leaked out. You can feel him getting harder in your palm and you lean forward once more, lips finding his, your tongues dancing together as you continue to stroke him.

"I want you, James," You whisper against his mouth and James lets out a soft groan, his large hands moving to your ass, pulling you closer to him.

"I want to feel you inside of me." You murmur into the kiss. "Fuck, if you continue doing this, I'm gonna cum," James moans as you can feel him getting closer. 

He lets out a soft sigh, his hands moving to your shirt, undoing the buttons. You squeal internally as he removes it from your shoulders, hands going to your bra, undoing the clasp. As the bra falls away, James's hands replace it, cupping your petite breasts, thumbs gently brushing over peaked nipples. He kneads the soft flesh, his touch both possessive and adoring. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his lips finding yours again, his kiss tender and deep.

You moan into the kiss, body trembling with need. James's expert touch drives you wild, and you can feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You pull away slightly, eyes dark with desire. "James, please."

In response, James moves to gently push you down onto your back, bare skin touching the texture of the sofa and your legs wrapping themselves around his waist. 

He kicks off his shoes before pulling the shirt over his head, your eyes locked on his delicious appearance, body well maintained, tattooed arms strong and ready to keep you in place.  

James's hands move to the waist of your pants, quickly undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. With a swift motion, he peels the pants off, leaving you in only a pair of skimpy lace panties.

James gazes at your naked body, a look of appreciation on his face. "You're gorgeous," he breathes, his eyes raking over your form. "I can't wait any longer."

With that, James is on his feet and quickly sheds the rest of his own clothes, his cock erect and proud, throbbing with need. "I want you inside of me," you murmur.

Groaning, James climbs back onto the sofa, hovering over your body, hooking his inked fingers into the waistband of your panties before pulling them down your legs. Left bare, he situates himself between your spread legs. He rubs his tip teasingly against your wet entrance, causing your hips to buck instinctively. "You want it, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how much you want this." 

"I want it so bad." You pant, eyes fixed on where both of your bodies join. "Please, fill me up. I need to feel you, take me hard."

James doesn't need to be told twice. With a savage growl, he plunges deep into your tight and welcoming heat. You cry out, your back arching off the sofa as you feel every inch of James's thick cock filling you up.

He starts to move, his hips snapping as he establishes a steady rhythm. Your hands grasp his ass, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Fuck me, James," you moan, voice breathy. "Harder, please."

James complies, slamming into you needily with each powerful thrust. Your eyes roll back in your head as you cling to James, nails digging into his flesh. "That's it, baby," James growls, his hands holding onto your thighs, spreading them wider to allow even deeper penetration. "Take it all. You're doing so good."

The sound of your flesh slapping together fills the room, accompanied by your whines of pleasure. James leans down, capturing a swollen nipple with his mouth, sucking and biting gently as he continues to thrust. "You gonna cum for me?" he urges, his voice rough. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

Your soon to be happening orgasm hits you like a freight train. You cry out, body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washes over you. James feels your pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock, milking him, and it's all he can take. With a few more powerful thrusts, he spills himself deep inside of you, moaning freely as his release coats your gummy walls.

Collapsing onto your sweaty body, James tries to catch his breath, his own body slick with sweat. Your arms wrap around him, a satisfied smile on your face. "That was incredible," you whispered, stroking James's silver hair.

James chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We're not done yet," he promises, already feeling his cock stirring again. "I have a feeling this night is going to be very long and very satisfying."

And it was. James and you explore each other's bodies with relentless passion, discovering new ways to pleasure each other with each passing hour. It was a night of uninhibited desire, one that both would remember with intense satisfaction for a very long time.

The sheets were a tangled mess, and your bodies were spent, but the smile on your faces said it all. It was a night of pure, unadulterated, erotic bliss but it all seemed to end too soon when James awoke in his bed by early morning, left with nothing but a cold and empty mattress next to him, your presence still lingering in every cell of his body, making him let out a sigh as he stares at the ceiling wondering when he deserves to feel that certain kind of happiness again, not just for one simple night but for a brighter future.

But little did he know that you would come back with a warm smile and a fresh breakfast waiting for him, driving all the way to the best bakery in town by early morning, hoping he would still be asleep and not sad about your disappearance. And after the sun rises he would be one happy man with wonderful hopes for the future. 

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Gangsters Win

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Delayed October reviews included this week! (Still traveling but now in home territory and familiar hotels.)

Nov 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) 2 of 8 - GIVING ME LIFE. How dare they be this… this... Just. How dare!

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 1 of 10 - I have been waiting for another truly sports centered BL since HIStory 2: CTL. This is nowhere near as good, but I don’t care. It’s great pulp and Sprite is a fab central character. I've realized that I love the pulps most when they’re ridiculously soapy (identical twins identity trope for sport’s fuck’s sake) but ERNEST about it (not campy). This one is taking itself seriously and it's so cute that it's trying so hard. Good little pulp. Dee mar.

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 12fin - was it me or did this show kinda flag on you too?

Poor, struggling Sailom is forced to tutor his bully, Kang, and they fall for each other despite circumstances. I loved it for the first 4 eps, liked it for the middle 4, and then kinda lost interest. I think it's because the focus shifted from Sailom to Kang, and I just find a disenfranchised character more interesting than the poor little rich kid archetype. Ultimately the script waffled and failed these actors - the leads and sides were solid, and support cast on point. 8/10 pretty standard 2023 GMMTV fair

Absolute Zero (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - It’s sort of a paradox of emotions not just time. It remains sad and I remain wary. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) The Camp Fire ep 11 of 24 - Launched with an argument over rude pronouns and mistaken identity. Highlights the joy of camping. Ugh. I don't think this one is for me despite the pair.

Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) ep 10fin - NO SINGING. I can't believe they brought in rando SIDEs just to sing! WHHHHYYYYY? Sigh.

An indifferent pulp with indifferent acting and poor chemistry (despite high heat) based on the reunion romance trope that was just... so... slow... It wasn’t entirely a waste of time but I can’t in good faith recommend it. unless you have a very high tolerance for Thai pulps and ultra tsundere characters. 5/10 ONLY WATCH IF YOU'VE NOTHING BETTER TO DO

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 12 of 13 - I don’t mean to be rude because you know I love the main couple in the show, but they are simply being out acted by the sides. They are so damn good. Ai Di and his dumb oversized sweaters and flappy flappy sleeves is EVERYTHING.

Bump Up Business (Korea Gaga) 5-6 of 8 - More language negotiation, so of course I like it. I also like that they openly let Eden admit to a crush on a boy. I like this whole thing way more than I should. Save me from myself?

You Are Mine (Taiwan Fri Viki) eps 9 of 10 - I don’t understand why baby boy is trying to escape so badly. (Except for plot reasons.) Running of the gays! Look at you Taiwan stealing Japan’s favorite trope. This show is fun but it’s a bag of tropes held together with some very thin fraying mesh plot. 

If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ (Japan Gaga) ep 5fin - The leads are so painfully cute portraying a softly simple story of teen first love. This was a nice little piece with an early yaoi feel that come off as brief, as if it were meant to be a short story that had been extended into a series. Sweet but ultimately rather forgettable. 7/10  

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 6-7 of ? - yeah I forgot to watch again, I may be dnfing this by accident.

It's Airing But...

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. It looks good though so I mgiht put some effort into finding it grey.

Look at Japan dropping all the tropes in on scene: rooftop, kabedon, hand hold.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 1-7 of 14 - this is a horror BL with ghosts & paranormal elements in a boarding school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge watch.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) - adaptation of Harada’s manga of the same name (which I did not like) about a convenience store clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine? AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan cinema release in-country only) - This one is a movie from Japan so in customary fashion who tf knows when (or if) it will get international distribution. Salaryman Ayumu Koiwai just can't tear his eyes away from the strong, muscular man as he checks on the stocks of the vending machine in his office. I did some hunting but only found the manga, so I'm marking it cnf and moving on with life. This will be its last appearance on the weekly update.

I Finished It!

Love in Translation (iQIYI) ep 8 - solid ending, man these two are a great pairing.

A sweet little pulp about a Thai boy with a crush on a Chinese influencer who ends up in a business relationship with her ex-bf. This show had truly great chemistry between the leads, cute found family with good rep, and an exciting (if silly) ending that almost, but didn't quite, make up for how incredibly annoying the main character was in the first half. Gotta say the make-out scene in the convenience store is one of the greatest in Thai BL, tho. 6/10 DEF WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED

I Feel You Linger in the Air (grey) ep 8 of 12 - so that was A THING. I did a seriously extensive deep dive analysis, historical & linguistic extras, and review here.

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Only Friends (YT) ep 11-12 - What can I say, this wasn't my thing, it was never gonna be, and I didn't like it. Basically Thailand did the L-Word but with branded BL pairs and the only agenda seemed to be slut shaming and making sure those pairs stayed healthy and sponsor ready. Consequently, the pairs were all executing well and to the best of their ability (of course) but all other characters got shafted, both in the good and the worst possible ways. Unrated but if falls somewhere between 5 (hot mess) and 3 (what am I doing with my life?)

Next Week Looks Like This

11/10 Middleman’s Love (Thai Fri Mandee's YT & iQIYI 1 of 8? - TutorYim (brand pair origin = Cutie Pie) with side couple KingUea (Bed Friends) from Domundi trailer here. This used to be a JimmyTommy vehicle before the pair split (also prev title Middle Love). Adapted from a Y-novel. Jade works as a graphic designer and has always been stuck in the middle - average. His heart is hardened after a life spent being overlooked because he is not as charming or good looking as the rest of his family or friends. When his office gets a hot new intern, Mai, Jade assumes Mai couldn’t possibly be intersted in him. Mai, of course, has other ideas. Warning this is a Cheewin comedy so tonally it could be very OFF, but the cast is solid, and I have liked his stuff on occasion.

11/10 Last Twilight (Thai Fri YouTube) - JimmySea are bakc and maybe it's good this time? I dont' know, GMMTV isn't doing great right now. Burdened with heavy debt, Mork, a mechanic, is forced to take a high paying job as a caretaker for Day, a rich heir who suffers from partial blindness after an accident. Day recruits Mork as he realizes the latter does not see him as a disabled person, but rather as co-equals. As they spend time together, the two begin developing feelings for the other. However with Day just having 180 days until he becomes permanently blind, how will the two weather the trials ahead?Upcoming November BL

11/11 Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) qp 1 of 8 - Looks like House of Stars meets Boyband. I am not excited.

Upcoming in November

11/16 PLAYBOYY (Thurs ????) ?? eps - trailer here, high heat and it's helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends) under Copy A Bangkok. It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's predicting Thai style "dark" (War of Y) one of my least favorites. Apparently there is a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot? A university kid who was involved with escorts, sex-trade, porn, online hook-ups, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, revenge, and so forth goes missing. His twin (sigh) and two friends look for him.

11/17 Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - high heat teaser here, based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing (author says show will not be omegaverse). Charlie (fresh face), a young hot nerd, approaches his driver idol (Pavel "my love" 2 Moons 2) to borrow a racing car and win one for the team. Production house is new to BL but behind the Club Friday stuff. Show stars many known actors: Nut (Oxygen), Pop (Ram in La Cuisine), Pon (Phai in Gen Y, we LOVE him), Benz (twins in En of Love: This Is Love Story).

11/19 Bake Me Please (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA) and possibly also Poom (well known, but not for BL). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). Still, I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge later. I'm planning to try SHADOW and I can only handle one Thai horror at a time.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite with their new bodies, stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try because I like the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. Maybe a binge for me.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

VIP Only (Taiwan) - may be delayed/canceled

Wuju Bakery AKA Space Bakery (Korea) - this one may be DOA

A Breeze of Love (Korea) - I know less than nothing about this.

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Yang's little smile! Argh. (Love in Translation)

This is our mean and grumpy gagster character talking about playing in game support roles. It's fucking adorable. Such a nasty criminal. (My Dear Gangster Oppa)

(Last week)

[wordsinhaled]

oops i saw that video of ferdie watching ads and my brain was all “wake up new dreamling meetcute just dropped” and really ran away with me and became a ridiculous sappy improbable thing

AU where dream is the model in an ad and hob is traveling for an academic conference. he’s watching tv in his hotel room late at night and sees this ad with dream in it. it’s some silly and forgettable TV commercial but the man in it may possibly be the most gorgeous person hob’s ever seen in his life? anyway hob can’t sleep, partially because he’s nervous for his panel the next day, partially because he’s stuck on Gorgeous Guy From the Ad and feels incredibly silly for it. it was a two minute appearance. matthew really is right that hob needs to get out more if he’s crushing on people in random TV commercials now

so he goes down to the lobby bar to get his mind off of things. it’s late and the bar is deserted - the bartender is about to knock off for the night in maybe half an hour. hob orders a club soda and is reviewing his papers when someone slides onto the bar stool next to his. hob is about to be slightly irritated that someone is In His Bubble at this late hour, when he looks up and sees it’s The Guy. the guy!!!

it’s the fucking guy from the ad he just watched, and somehow he looks even more beautiful in person, and hob is like, oh, okay, the stress of academia has finally gotten to me and i’ve lost it because there is just no fucking way

it’s such a ludicrous coincidence that hob sets down his pen and just starts laughing. the way you laugh at things that aren’t actually amusing, because it’s the middle of the night, and everything’s just a little fuzzy around the edges?

“is something funny?” says mr. walking wet dream from the TV, in a voice like slow-melted chocolate, and also with the kind of curiosity in it that makes hob realize he’s being totally socially inappropriate

“no—no, i’m so sorry. it’s just—god, am i dreaming? because you’re here, but i swear i just saw you—upstairs. well. not like—i mean. in an ad on the TV?” (completely not helping himself in the smoothness department)

the breathtaking stranger’s lips quirk up in a sardonic smile. “ah, yes. that.”

“that?”

“unfortunately, you are not dreaming. i did indeed feature in an advertisement several years ago. as my sibling dearly loves to remind me on every possible occasion, lest i let myself forget for even a moment.”

and hob expects the man to leave in a huff, or something. he goes back to his papers, dream orders himself a gin & tonic, but they’re watching one another in each other’s periphery until finally dream says, “i must admit why i sat beside you this evening. i noticed you were reading marlowe…”

to hob’s great surprise this stranger soon doesn’t feel like someone he’s just met. hob talks about his teaching post and the conference and the paper he’s presenting and the panel he’s on tomorrow, and how (“shhh, you mustn’t tell anyone”) his co-panelist tomorrow is an absolute pill so he’s dreading it. he finds himself sharing more easily than he expected in a way that you only can in the kind of liminal space that is an empty swanky hotel bar at midnight. they’re angled toward one another on their barstools so that maybe their shoes knock together or their ankles brush occasionally in a way they both pretend is accidental, and hob does his level best to be calm and collected about it

he learns his stranger’s story over several gin & tonics. dream’s ‘real’ name is morpheus. he wants to be a published author, studied creative writing. his father is the head of a major media/entertainment/publishing conglomerate and dream used to work for the company. when dream said he wanted to pursue something totally different (essentially… be a starving artist) his father saw it as a betrayal, and trapped him into continuing to work for the family for years on the promise of getting him the connections to publish his first novel or help him get funding to stage his first play… provided he could “actually” finish the manuscript

in the meantime his father had dream doing bit parts in forgettable commercials and made for tv theatre productions, partially as humiliation for daring to want to leave. (i really want him to be in a hair commercial where he broods about in silky black robes…) eventually dream lawyered up and severed ties. his father retaliated by setting up a kidnapping attempt on his own son that someone else conveniently took the fall for, and so on…

anyway - to make a long and tragic story short, now morpheus goes by dream, moved cities, has started his life over mostly estranged from the family, and he’s actually working on his novel - but he’s in town for a friend’s funeral and is staying at the hotel too

at the end of this story hob goes, “bloody hell. i’m sorry, my friend,” and it’s a bit over-familiar, isn’t it, for someone you’ve just met at a bar, even if you’ve just shared half your secrets. so hob is all, oh god oh god ohgodohgod, i’ve scared him off now—

then dream is all, “your friend. is that all you’d like me to be, robert gadling?” and he’s Looking at hob like he’s caught hob out in a lie. and hob’s breath is just… gone… gone away somewhere… and he has to admit that he may still barely know this man but there’s nothing he wants more than to know him in every way possible

and maybe they both go up to hob’s hotel room, and when hob kisses dream for the first time, cradling dream’s face in his hands, it’s more tender and intimate than it has any right to be and hob is just. flabbergasted because fuck. he just met this man and it feels like he could be content just to kiss him for hours and hours and hours. ok? like this is some accidental soulmates energy. their first time is slow and thorough after falling asleep curled together on top of hob’s covers and waking up in the blue hours before dawn

ok basically just my favorite thing is dreamling finding one another in very unlikely circumstances and having a Connection asdjfjf

[obetrolncocktails]

Ignition | Danny Wagner X f!Reader X Jake Kiszka | Part 5

Have you read Part 4?

Warnings: Minors ABSOLUTELY DNI! (18+), SOAKED PANTIES/ UNDERWEAR ALERT, intense sexual tension, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, teasing, foreplay, fingering, fluff, brief mentions of feelings of inadequacy, graphic descriptions of sex. (YOU AND DANNY FINALLY FAWK).

Word Count: 9,741K

A/N: This might be some of my favorite writing I've done in a while, ESPECIALLY the smut. I tried my best to make this smut seem as realistic as possible to how I think Danny would behave...take that as you will. 😈

Here’s a link to the song mentioned in the fic: Mr. Forgettable—David Kushner

Here’s a link to the Spotify Ignition Playlist: Ignition

“Kenn, I think we might…you know–” you told one of your close friends through facetime.

“Oh?” She asked, taking a sip of her iced latte through the camera. “This is Danny, right? Not Jake?”

“Definitely not Jake,” you insisted. “We haven’t really been talking lately.”

“Oh. What happened?” She asked disappointedly, having been left out of the loop since the last phone call. 

“Well, I finally told him how I felt, and things didn’t really go well. He completely ghosted me for like two weeks until I confronted him at rehearsal, and even now things are really weird. I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to blow off the hurt that you most definitely still felt. “We haven’t talked,” you shrugged.

“Wait, so you told him you liked him, and he just disappeared?” She asked, slurping loudly through her straw. 

“Yeah,” you said simply, plopping your head down into your covers before lifting it again. 

“Maybe it freaked him out,” Kenn replied. “I don’t know. But that’s weird that he acted like that. Did he tell you if he had feelings or not?”

“He said he didn’t love me like that. He said he’d always be there for me and then literally disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“Damn,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry, Y/n,” She apologized gently. “I really wish I could be there with you. We’d have a sleepover and we’d do the whole ‘eat Ben & Jerry’s and cry’ thing.”

You shrugged, chuckling softly. “Honestly, I think I’m past all that. Danny and I are kind of a thing, now,” you explained. “I don’t know where it’s gonna go, and things are still new, but he’s such a good guy, and he makes me feel–I don’t know,” you blushed. 

“Sexy? Like you’re floating?” She asked, grinning widely. 

“All of the above. And more,” You answered. “Jake will come around eventually, and if he doesn’t, I’ll be sad, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Kenn asked. “You guys are so close, Y/n. I can’t imagine you and Jake just not being a package deal, you know?” 

Her bringing up the obvious made you uncomfortable. She’d asked the questions you’d avoided for weeks. “I miss him, and I’m fucking angry. I never thought he’d act like this, even if he didn’t like me–and now, I just don’t get it.” 

“He hasn’t tried to talk to you? Not at all?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. I yelled at him at rehearsal last week though,” you explained. Kenn snorted. 

“Oh my God. Hell hath no fury like Y/n when she’s pissed off,” She continued. “What did you say?”

“He kept giving me all of these excuses as to why he couldn’t or wouldn’t reach out to me first…that I should have been the first one to reach back out to him knowing I had already put myself out there and got rejected by him. Who does that to their best friend?” 

Kenn shook her head. “A jackass. But like–remember when we were talking, and all the signs were adding up? I swore that he had feelings,” she explained with a confused expression. “Jake wasn’t hard for me to read at all. Every single thing that you told me sounded like he had feelings.” She took another sip of her beverage before shaking the empty cup of ice.  “I had no doubt.”

“Ugh, why are boys so fucking difficult to figure out?!” You groaned, covering your face with your pillow. “Like why did God make me straight? This is sick!”

Kenn chuckled. “All men, I swear, have rocks in their heads.” 

“You’re telling me!” You agreed, your attention moving elsewhere when you felt your phone vibrate as you began receiving a call. It was Danny. 

“Speaking of men, I’ve got a good one calling.”

“I love you, bestie. Keep me updated on Danny. Let me know if I need to kick his ass, too, and I’ll make the trip ASAP.”

“I will, I promise.” 

You hung up with her promptly before switching over the call. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. 

“Hi gorgeous,” he said through the phone with a delightful tone. “What are you up to?” He asked. 

“Nothing really, just got off the phone with Kenn.” 

“That’s nice, did you guys have a good call?” You nodded, though he couldn’t see you. 

“Yeah, we only get to talk like once or twice a month, so it was nice to catch up.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “Are you in bed yet?” He asked, hope laced into the question. 

“Not even close,” you told him. “Why?” 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone,” he said flirtatiously. 

“I’m sworn to secrecy. Signed by a notary,” you answered playfully. 

“Wow, that’s really official. Truth be told, I have a craving.” 

“A craving?” You asked, grinning. 

“Yup. I figured I’d ask you if you had a craving too, and then, if you would like to possibly fix that craving, maybe perhaps we could carpool to a convenience store…” he said, obviously beating around the bush. 

“Let me see,” you replied. “Oh yeah, you know, I could totally go for a Reese’s right now. I’m fresh out.”

“Oh man, that sucks! But, guess what? I just so happen to have a car!”

“Danny, you know I have a car, too, right?” You chuckled. 

“I had no idea women could drive!” He joked. 

“You deserve to be punched for that,” you told him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Be careful, I like women who are hands on.”

“You’re a loser,” You answered, getting up from the bed, smoothing out your clothes. 

“Your loser, I hope,” he suggested. 

“My loser,” you agreed. 

“I’ll be over in ten then, loser,” he replied quickly, hanging up before you could protest. Soon, you heard his car pull up, his engine purring loudly outside of your window.

“You were just looking for an excuse to see me, weren’t you?” You asked him as you stepped down your front stairs, being careful to not trip over them in the dark. 

“No, of course not! I was just craving some sweet chili Doritos, but was scared to go to the store alone,” he answered, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d call up a buddy.”

“Is that what I am to you, Daniel Wagner?” You asked, ducking down to peer at him through his passenger window. You crossed your arms across your chest. “I’m your buddy?” You lifted your eyebrows skeptically with the question. 

“I have a secret,” he said quietly, pulling his finger upward in a ‘come here’ gesture. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Get in and I'll tell you,” he said with a grin. You eyed him with suspicion, but opened the car door, sinking down into the seat beside him. As soon as you were settled inside, he lifted his hand to tilt your face, leaning his body over the center console to deliver a breathtaking kiss, his fingertips caressing your jaw and the curve of your neck just like before. This kiss was different though, because now, his touch was comfortable and confident. His fingertips knitted into your hair, and yours lifted upward to rest on his shoulder and chest, bunching his shirt in your hands as you deepened the kiss. Adjusting in your seat, you turned your body to him, moving as best you could in such a small space. “Why’d you have to kiss me like that in this tiny fucking car?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Because I like the challenge,” Danny said, licking his lips as he sat back in his seat, his chest heaving. “Plus I’m a glutton for punishment. Oh and I lied about what I was craving,” he added, looking over at you, a glimmer in his eye. 

“Oh?” You answered simply. 

“Yeah. You just fixed it.” At that, your cheeks flamed embarrassingly pink, your skin heating up to the point of almost being feverish.  

“Where did you learn to be so fucking smooth?” You chuckled. He grinned like he had just won something. 

“I’ve got quick wit, Y/n,” he said cleverly. “Also I had to put a lot of practice into impressing you,” he said, flashing his white teeth in a broad smile. 

“You’re such a dork ,” you grinned widely, still feeling the pressure of his lips against yours. Really, you wanted him to go even further, testing your boundaries. 

“Stay over tonight,” you said, laying your head back against the headrest, turning to look at him. “Stay with me,” you told him again, relaxing your expression into one of seriousness. “Please,” you added, placing your opened palm on the center console, waiting for his answer. 

“How’d you feel coming over to my place?” He asked you. “Since we’re still parked in your driveway,” he grinned, looking outside and then back at you. “No pressure, of course.”

“I think I’d like that,” You agreed. “Still up for snacks?” You asked him.

“Nah, not really. It was all a ploy to get you here with me,” he grinned. 

“You know you could have just asked to hang out like a normal person.” You told him with an enthused expression. 

“What would be the fun in that, though? I like to keep you on your toes.” 

You rolled your eyes and reached for the door handle. “Give me five minutes to grab some things,” you told him. The smile that you got in return from him filled you with eagerness and excitement. You practically skipped up the stairs inside your house to pack an overnight bag, a smile embedded in your expression the entire time. 

***

It’s interesting how ceiling fans always become one of the most cliché details in sad, miserable stories,  Jake thought, repetitively tossing one of Danny’s GVF golf balls in the air. He had spent most of the evening lying in place, still dressed in the clothes he wore earlier that day. As he lay, his mind wandered to the image of you and Danny kissing at your house. Once he let himself reimagine it, he’d inserted himself into your arms, imagining if it was him kissing you, him laughing with you, and him sharing his feelings with you. He’d fucked it all up so severely that it was too late to go back now. If he wanted you, he’d have to make a mess, and though Jake hadn’t been one to start drama, losing you wasn’t something he was willing to do. 

“Are you gonna get up and actually do something?” Josh asked, stepping into the room, turning on the light. 

“Ugh!” Jake groaned, rolling over in bed. “Why the fuck are you in my house?” He asked. 

“Because you won’t answer my texts and calls, and quite frankly, it hurt my feelings,” Josh said mostly out of sarcasm. “What’s the problem?”

Jake looked over at his brother, considering if he had the energy to pour out his heart to Josh. Instead, he sighed and looked back up at the spinning fan and continued to toss the ball into the air. 

“Come on,” Josh said. “I can only handle so much brooding before I begin to get jealous from you stealing the limelight.” Jake scoffed with a small grin. 

“You’re an asshat,” he said. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Tell me what’s going on. I know who it’s about, at least,” Josh admitted. 

“What do you mean?” Jake said, catching the ball one last time, turning to face his brother. 

“Oh give me a break,” Josh said, coming to sit in the deep papasan chair in Jake’s room, leaning back in it and folding his legs underneath his body. “It’s Y/n. Everyone knows, Jake.” 

“What exactly do they know?” Jake said, reaching his hand back with the ball, spurring Josh to open his hands in preparation to catch the ball. Carefully they tossed it back and forth as they spoke. 

“That you’re an idiot,” Josh began. “Why did you tell her you didn’t have feelings for her? Like, what kind of bullshit was that?” He continued. “You and I both know you’ve been crazy about her since you met her.”

Jake caught the ball and sighed deeply before tossing it back. “I don’t know. I panicked in the moment,” he said. “Nothing ever ends well for me. She’s my best friend. Everyone says don’t fall in love with your best friend, and when she told me she had feelings for me, I just wanted to run away, I–” He shook his head, fumbling for the ball and missing it, watching as it hit the wall with a loud thwack. 

“Shit,” He said, inspecting the wall for damage. 

“Come in the kitchen for shots,” Josh suggested. “I’ll steal your casamigos,” he grinned. “Let’s talk.” 

“I don’t feel like talking,” Jake argued. 

“Well, that’s what you’ve been doing, Jackass. Now get off your ass and talk to me, or I’ll become your worst nightmare.”

“You’ve been that way since we were born,” Jake grinned slightly, rolling off of his bed. 

“And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, either,” Josh finished. “Come on.” 

***

“Got everything you need?” Danny asked as you placed your bag on the floor board. He reached his hand over to squeeze your thigh. You nodded with a gentle smile. 

“I think so,” You said, buckling your seatbelt, and offering Danny a gentle smile.   

“Still feel like coming over?” He asked you. “No pressure.”

“Danny, I promise. I want to,” you assured him, reaching over and kissing him on the lips. “I want to stay with you.” 

“Okay,” he said in a low murmur, grinning softly. “Okay.” 

The drive to his house was quiet, but content, his right hand clasped with yours as you rested it on your thigh. You looked out at the night lights as Danny’s music played softly through the car. Danny lived on the other side of town, but much closer to downtown than you’d remembered. Since the boys moved to Nashville, you hadn’t really spent time at his house. Usually, band meetings, rehearsals and get-togethers would take place at Jake’s or Josh’s depending on who was feeling like hosting at the time. Coming here to Danny’s felt like an exciting new adventure. 

“You’re quiet over there,” he said after a while, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Oh, I was just thinking,” You told him, squeezing his hand and offering him a small smile. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, stealing quick glances at you. 

“Yeah, It’s just–I can’t remember when I was at your house last. I don’t know if I’ve even been inside,” you said honestly. 

“Well, I can guarantee you, it looks just like a house on the inside,” He winked at you. “I’ve got a couch, a fridge–ooh and even a bed, if that surprises you,” he winked, turning into his neighborhood. 

“You better watch it,” You told him. “I’ll start holding it against you,” you grinned. “And you don’t want me to do that.”

“I don’t?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly would my punishment entail?” Danny asked. 

“I’ll spank you,” you warned him, narrowing your eyes with determination. 

“You’re gonna spank me?” He asked through a chuckle, pulling into his driveway. 

“Don’t tempt me, Wagner. Your height, stature and masculinity means nothing to me.”

“Be careful what you say in tight spaces, sweetheart.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

“Because you just might get more than you bargained for.”

“Is that a challenge?” You asked, reaching for the door handle. 

“It’s a promise,” he said, stepping out of his car and coming around to you, swiftly reaching up underneath you, pulling you upward.

“Danny!” You practically squealed. 

“Up you go!” He said playfully, letting you dangle over his shoulder. Figuring you needed to even the score, you reached back and slapped his ass as hard as you could as he marched up his driveway. 

“Ow!” he yelped, stepping up to his porch. 

“And eye for an eye!” You told him with a chuckle. 

After the playful moment, he carefully swung you back down on your feet and reached for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the door, and opening it for you. “Come on in,” he said, letting you walk past him into the dimly lit foyer of the house. It was decorated with modern taste, with beautiful wood floors installed throughout the entire house. It was an open concept, breathing life into the space, with thoughtful decorations that were most definitely hand picked by Danny throughout the time of being in Nashville. 

In the corner, you saw his golf bag, the clubs sticking out of it at different angles, like he had recently played. 

“I should take you some time,” he grinned, following your gaze. “I’d love to see your form,” He said. “Think you could keep up?” 

“No, I’d be absolutely awful at it,” you admitted, looking up at him. “But, you know what I would be really good at?”

“Mm, what’s that?” He asked. 

“I’d be wonderful at sitting on the golf cart, giving you a big ol’ clap when you make a good shot, and then handing you a fresh beer every now and then.” 

“That’s because you’re dependable, sweetheart,” He said, bending to kiss you on the top of your head. The flirtatious conversation had left you fighting a swarm of butterflies, the pet names making your heart practically swell in your chest. 

“Are we gonna spend the entire evening doing this?” You asked, the corner of your mouth quirking up with playfulness. 

“Doing what?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen and reaching into his refrigerator for a cold bottle of wine. You watched his arms muscles flex as he reached up into the cabinets to retrieve two wine glasses. 

“Flirting with me constantly with no end in sight?” You asked, stepping toward him.

“Is it a crime to flirt with a beautiful woman?” He asked, pouring a glass of wine.

“It is when it drives me fucking crazy,” you said matter of factly, watching as he casually shook the curls from his head. 

“Well in that case,” he said, setting down the full glass, pushing it back on the counter. “Let me make it worse,” he said as he took the last step forward, his hands finding their way to your hips. His face hovering just above yours, and his eyes floated over the curve of your lips, his nose resting perfectly alongside yours. “How about now?” He asked again, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I think you should kiss me, Danny Wagner,” you told him. “Now.” 

“I like it when you get annoyed with me. This is new,” he grinned. Leaning in slowly, he placed his lips on yours and delivered a delicate kiss, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You pressed yourself firmly against him, feeling him reciprocate with stronger urgency, his lips folding in time with yours as you inhaled his scent, knotting your fingers into his curls and tugging. He groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving downward to grab at your ass as he turned around with you, walking you back against the counter. You felt his hot breath expel against your skin, his slick lips beginning to wander from your mouth, down to the hollow of your neck. He took your earlobe in between his teeth and pressed down, pulling away just enough to elicit a soft hiss from you. He chuckled sexily, his curls tickling your face as he leaned into the crook of your neck, touching his lips to what he thought was the perfect spot. You felt his teeth, then felt the vacuum from him sucking on your skin, leaving a hickey for the next day. “So everyone knows that you belong to someone. To me.” It was bliss to be wrapped up with Danny, and he ensured that you’d feel like the only woman he could see. You felt the small welt pulse 

“Danny, take me to bed,” you whispered as he kissed you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. 

“Let’s just lay together,” you decided to say, knowing you most definitely wanted more, but not sure if it was the right moment or not. 

“Okay,” he said gently with a smile, reaching for your hand. You walked through the house as he led you to his bedroom, having completely forgotten about the wine. He would need no liquid courage tonight. He was already becoming drunk off of you. 

***

“Show me your favorites,” Danny asked in bed with you cuddling him, your head resting on his chest. He’d been swiping through several of his Spotify playlists, playing snippets of several different songs, but never fully committing to playing the whole song through—you’d assume he’d tried to avoid the opportunity for awkwardness. It was amusing to you how he could be so effortlessly effervescent one moment, and then so reserved and bashful the next.

“Play me a full song that you love,” you redirected. “One that you know I won’t know,” you said, turning your head to look up at him. “I just wanna listen. Can be anything.” His fingertips paused. 

“Alright,” he agreed softly, scrolling through his music before stopping at one song called ‘Mr. Forgettable,’ by David Kushner. You watched his thumb hover over the song, hesitating before swiping away. 

“No wait,” you stopped him by touching his arm. “Play me that one.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, his tone rising lightly with hesitation. You watched as he pressed play, sitting the phone on his belly and laying back. In the low light of his bedroom, you closed your eyes and listened. 

I know that you're waiting for me like a dog But have some patience for the part of me that's lost There's been a hundred times When I don't recognize Any of you that love me I try to memorize and identify But it's all getting foggy My head is in the clouds right now Just pray I come around, around Hello, hello, are you lonely? I'm sorry, it's just the chemicals Hello, hello, do you know me? I'm called Mr. Forgettable  Mr. Forgettable

You listened quietly as you rested on his chest, finding it just so that his heart thumped to the beat of the song. Every now and then, you’d feel a vibration against your ear as he hummed his favorite parts. It was a sad song with a cheerful beat, which you found quite ironic considering its content. Once it was over, you let the silence linger for a few moments before tilting your head to look up at him. 

“Do you feel like that?” You asked him softly, your throat aching. His eyes drifted from the phone screen to your eyes, then your lips and then back up again. He swallowed once.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly. 

“You feel like you’re forgettable?” You pushed further, propping yourself up on your elbow. 

“It’s okay, really,” he said with a gentle smile, though he wouldn’t look you in the eye. “I’ve felt like that most of my life,” he sighed.

“Danny…” you started, watching as his cheeks pinkened with embarrassment. “You’ll never be forgettable to me.” You placed your hand on his chest and his eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips pulling into a flat line as his expression grew more serious. “Let me prove to you that you’re becoming everything to me,” You said, lifting your hand to his cheek, watching as his eyes lowered to your mouth. You moved closer to him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as he rolled into you, kissing you tentatively at first, as if testing your boundaries. “It’s okay,” you whispered into the space between you. 

Danny moved to press himself against you, his weight adding a welcome sense of comfort as his hands moved around your body, his fingertips pressing into your skin. “More,” you huffed against his lips. “I trust you.” 

“You do?” He asked, pausing for just a moment.

 “I want more of you, Danny. Please.” His hands move reflexively for the hem of your shirt, and you lifted your arms over your head as he pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side. His hand snaked up your bare skin, his fingertips dipping under the cup of your bra as he kissed you. You felt his touch as he moved his hand around your body, his teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip as his tongue danced expertly with yours. Slowly, he released his nervous and patient apprehension, gladly appeasing your request. You reached your hand down where he had paused, pulling his hand upward to hold your breast, guiding him with your hand on top of his. His grip tightened around your breast, his thumb grazing your swelling nipple, a soft, breathy chuckle escaping from his nose as he moved over the bud again, igniting a layer of goosebumps all over your body. Softly, you moaned into his mouth, reaching your hands down to cup his clothed cock, finally realizing how well-endowed he was. You walked your fingertips upward and unzipped his pants, nimbly unfastening the button closure with two fingers, reaching just inside and immediately felt the heat emanating from him. 

Slowly, you walked your fingers down his lower belly and smoothed them over his bulge. His length hardened beneath your touch, and you could feel him tense and then release. You felt his grip tighten around your breast in response as he moved to flip you so that you were on top of him. Rising from him, you moved your hair out of the way to one side and lowered yourself back down, kissing him deeply. Closing your eyes, you intentionally ground your hips against his firm cock, feeling your own muscles begin to contract and release as they silently begged for his attention. 

“You’re such a tease,” he breathed through a sexy smirk, reaching up to unclasp your bra. 

“I’ve said it before, Danny. I’m full of surprises,” you murmured under your breath, your tone heavy with desire. “I’m not always the innocent girl you think I am,” you told him. 

“Then drag me to hell.” He let your bra slip off of your skin, falling onto his belly. He tossed it to the end of the bed before bringing his eyes up to your chest. 

“Jesus,” he groaned again, and you smirked down at him, watching as his eyes widened for a moment before slipping into a lustful expression, his hands moving to squeeze them firmly in his hands, his thumbs moving instantly to rub over your nipples, biting at his bottom lip when they swelled to their full, aroused state. 

“Like what you see?” You asked him, resting your hands on his sides. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/n. How could you not know how incredibly gorgeous you are?” He asked, moving his fingertips to smooth over your bare sides and belly. 

“I could say the same thing about you,” you admitted. “I’ve wanted you for a while, Danny.”

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he added. “I have to admit,” he started, but paused. 

“What?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“I’ve imagined what it would be like to be with you,” he explained. You watched as his cheeks flushed. 

“You have?” You asked him, beginning to grind your hips against him slowly as he spoke. You watched his expression shift slightly as you felt his cock press against your ass through his unzipped pants. 

“So many times,” he admitted quietly, reaching his hands to your hips. He pulled you down further against himself, lifting his hips to grind against your ass. 

“You’ve definitely been on my mind too,” you told him. 

“Oh?” He asked. 

“Mmhmm. Usually late at night when I can’t sleep,” you continued. “My thoughts wander…”

“And what do they come up with?” He asked, whispering his fingertips over your belly, making you shiver from his ghosting touch. 

“Usually they’re thoughts of you,” you explained. “Naked.” 

“And what exactly am I doing in these thoughts?” He asked, the corner of his mouth tilting with interest. 

“You’re with me,” you answered, echoing his touch, walking your fingertips up his belly, taking note of the dark wisps of hair that adorned his chest. Not too much, not too little, just right. He was masculine, but sensitive and understanding, and that duality had the power to drive you absolutely insane. 

“Why’s it so hard for you to say, Y/n?” Danny asked, bringing his hand down to meet yours, interlacing your fingers together. “What were we doing?” His confidence, though so understated and reserved before now settled into a presence that was simultaneously charming and incredibly sexy.

“We were—you know,” you responded sheepishly, looking up into his eyes. 

“Fucking?” He asked quietly, his brown dilating with interest. You nodded yes, but the images in your mind were racing: you bouncing on his cock, your hair falling loose and wild over your breasts, your mouth dropped open in ecstasy as he railed into you. “You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you?” He asked, his lips drawing upward in a crooked line. 

You didn’t answer him. The heat in your face and averted gaze told him everything you needed to know. He chuckled softly, “look at me,” he commanded, and you did, turning your gaze downward. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t imagined the same thing,” he admitted. 

The space between you and him was thick with need and anticipation. “Danny…” you said after a moment. “Are we moving too fast?” You asked him. 

“Do you think we are?” He turned the question around. “Listen,” he said gently. “ I’ve waited for you for over two years. I can wait as long as you need.” You smiled down at him, biting your bottom lip as you took notice of how sexy it felt to have a man so considerate and understanding as your own. Slowly, you moved off of his lap, laying down and cuddling against him, lying in the crook of his arm. 

“I really, really like you Danny. 

“And I really, really, really like you, Y/n,” he responded with a smirk, looking down at you as you tilted to look up at him. 

You echoed his expression. “Kiss me,” you told him. With his free hand, he tilted your head upward by your chin and leaned slightly to place his supple lips on your own. He was so gentle and tender, taking his time as he kissed you. “Let’s slow things down a bit,” he said, smiling against your lips. “Hm?”

“Mmhmm,” you breathed against his kiss, lifting your hand to rest on his cheek, your fingertips dancing upon the curls that dance upon the curve of his ear. His tongue looped around yours, hot puffs of breath exchanging between your mouths. You kicked at the sheets and covers bunched around your legs, and wrapped one around Danny as you lay with him. In his arms, you felt infinitely beautiful, and more importantly, you felt important and valuable. 

***

“Thank you,” you said after a long while. 

“For what?” He chuckled softly. 

“Just for being you. For being just…incredible,” you told him, feeling your pulse thumping through your chest. “For being my person.” 

“You’re my person,” he said, taking your hand in his, kissing it. “And I have a question for you,” he continued. 

“What is it?” 

You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down for a moment before he finally spoke. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, squeezing your hand softly. 

You paused for a moment, a bright smirk growing on your face. “Do you think you can handle me full-time?” You asked him expectantly. 

“Honey, I crave it,” he told you. “All of you. Every day. The silly things, the important things…the happiest things and the saddest ones too. So yes, I think I can handle you. Should I ask you the same question?” 

“Danny, you’re probably the lowest-maintenance man I’ve ever dated,” you explained with a soft grin. “You’re just so– easy.” you landed on the word, and it felt right because it was true. “I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about what you’re thinking or feeling. So yes, Danny. I think I can definitely handle you. I want you–full time,” you smirked. 

 ***

You’d both let the evening settle, resting on Danny’s chest until, when it became too hot, you’d turned in the other direction, fluffing Danny’s pillows and settling yourself back to sleep. You’d been restless, tossing and turning in bed. It wasn’t Danny’s fault; ever since you were young, you were plagued with being a hot sleeper, ending up kicking off the tangle of sheets and covers toward the end of the bed. Once you’d fallen asleep, images of Danny filled your mind, just like they had before, of him touching you and making love to you after you’d given your body to him completely. In your drowsiness, you’d grown increasingly annoyed with the layer of sweat that had begun to stick to your body, pasting the bottom sheet to your underside. As you rolled around, you uttered sleepy ‘sorries’ to Danny, who moved sleepily to touch you and kiss you before turning over again. You drifted between dreams for the next few hours until you’d roused yourself fully awake again, unable to coax yourself back to sleep. Rubbing at your burning eyes, you rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, trying your best to not bother Danny asleep beside you. He lay fast asleep as you watched him for a moment, tiptoeing around the bed as you moved toward the door. 

The house was dark, save for a small lamp in the living room and the recessed LEDs underneath the cabinets in the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you searched for the glasses, finding one and stepping toward the fridge, using the water dispenser to fill up the cup. You moved to ice next, hoping that it wouldn’t create much noise, but you were so wrong. Several pieces of ice tumbled out, hitting the sides of your glass and knocking out of the freezer tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, bending to pick up the ice cubes, kicking the few strays that you couldn’t reach under the freezer, smiling to yourself while imagining Danny’s grin if you had confessed that you were one of those people. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

You jolted, almost dropping your glass of water when you heard his voice. Turning around, you saw Danny stepping into the kitchen, his eyes heavy-lidded, dressed in nothing but thin, black boxers. God-fucking-damn, you thought to yourself, feeling your core activate with need. You squeezed your thighs closer together, clearing your throat.

“Oh,” you began. “Yeah, sorry. I got really hot and couldn’t sleep.” Danny stepped closer to you, his bare chest and shoulders illuminated in the low light as he stopped to lean against the counter beside you, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “Truth be told, I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a grin. “You were gone when I got up. Didn’t even move.”

“That’s because I was pretending,” he grinned. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking at him skeptically. 

“I was thinking about you,” he admitted.

You could have cursed him for having such a sultry gaze in the moment, coming up with something smart or clever to say in response, but this time he had entranced you, moving you to silence. He watched you for a long moment as you swallowed and set down your glass of water. 

“You okay?” He asked you. 

“I’m fine,” you answered him, deciding in the moment that you wanted him in every meaning of the word. You stepped closer to him. “Danny.”

“Y/n.” He answered, his hands uncrossing to fall at your sides, caressing your hips as you stepped into his space. “I think,” you began, mustering the courage and honesty to finally say “I want you to take me to bed–and I don’t mean to sleep.”

He paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

“I’m sure,” you answered, reaching down for his hands. “Please. I want to know every part of you,” you alluded. “Take me to bed, Danny.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said quietly, leaning forward to place one delicate, but tender kiss on your lips. Squatting slightly, his hands moved behind you, reaching behind your knees to hike you up easily, carrying you silently through the house and into his bedroom. With your arms around him, you felt safe and secure. The moment filled you with excitement and nervousness too, and you no longer felt the insecurities from earlier in the evening. As he moved with you through the threshold of the bedroom, Danny skillfully swung the door shut with his foot and stepped toward the end of the bed where the covers lay unkempt and tangled. Holding you securely with one hand, he pulled the sheets and comforter off of the bed, letting it fall to the floor. Gently, he leaned forward and laid you on your back, staying close for a moment. “If at any time,” he murmured gently, “you feel uncomfortable or you want to stop, you tell me, okay?” You watched as his gaze swept between your eyes, waiting for you to respond. “It’s just us, together. I want it to be perfect,” he explained, bringing his thumb upward to caress your cheek. 

“Me too,” you nodded. “Danny please,” you continued. You appreciated how sweet he was, but the heat and stimulation in between your thighs was starting to become unbearable. 

“Don’t worry,” he said with a flirtatious wink before lowering off of you, reaching underneath your oversized sleep shirt to pull at the waistband of your panties, rolling them down off of you. You watched as his head lowered, and his dark curls swept over your lower belly, tickling your skin. Gently, he placed a soft, velvety kiss on the lines from the waistband that had dug impressions into your skin. Glancing up at you through dark lashes with an eager grin, he rolled your underwear down further, exposing your last vestige of privacy–and yet, beneath his heavy gaze, you felt inexplicably radiant. He looked at you like exquisite, cherished art–like something to behold and to protect–or like how a well-learned sculptor gazes at a monolithe of marble, his mind chipping away the extra pieces to reveal the masterpiece beneath it all. 

“I’ll never get tired of that,” you smiled down at him. 

“Of what?” He asked. 

“The way you look at me.” 

He smiled gently, the apples of his cheeks rising. His arms moved to hook around your legs as he repositioned you, spreading them slightly so he could place more soft kisses on your tender, warm skin. 

“Danny,” you half-whined, feeling restless as he continued to litter your skin with tender kisses. 

“I will,” he answered, predicting your thoughts. “It may be three A.M., but I’m perfectly fine with taking my time with you.” With that, he shut you up and you laid back tossing your hair around you as you watched him take charge below. 

“Just relax,” he told you, adjusting himself between your legs one last time before unhooking one of his hands from around you to part your folds. You should have been embarrassed by the mess you’d already made. You should have fought to keep your legs closed so that he didn’t see how wet you were, but you didn’t. You lifted your head slightly to watch him, his eyes brightening with lust as he saw your open pussy for the first time. “Oh my God,” he murmured almost inaudibly, sliding his thumb into your slick, applying soft pressure to your skin as he touched you for the first time. You felt yourself humming softly, perhaps to break the slight awkwardness you felt, but you stopped as soon as he moved to your clit, pressing the meat of his thumb over the rise, puffing a soft chuckle through his nose in response to your body’s reaction. His fingers had to have been dripping from how turned on he’d made you, yet he made no mention of it. He was silent and focused as his fingers rubbed into you. 

“Still good?” He asked you quietly, and you nodded down at him. 

“More,” you huffed through a whisper, and you watched with great anticipation as he answered your request by ducking his head down, introducing the wet warmth of his tongue as he tasted you for the first time. You felt the gentle puffs of his breath against your thighs, adding to the heat against your skin. And there he was, all over you at once, his tongue lapping at your folds with learner’s curiosity as he traveled the expanse of your pussy, the flat of his tongue dragging along your most sensitive areas just once before moving elsewhere. “Fuck,” you murmured softly, bringing your hands to your breasts, squeezing them through the thin cotton of your tshirt. In response, Danny pressed his face firmly against you, the curvature of his nose pressing into your skin, igniting even more pleasure. Moments later, he began to shake his head back and forth, creating a feeling of undulation against your swollen clit. “Fuck me–oh my god, Danny,” you groaned, reaching down to take a fistful of his hair, pulling him against you and then away when you became overstimulated. Coming up for air with a heavy gasp, you caught a glimpse of his face in the low light of the room, pinkened with exertion and friction. “Come here,” you commanded breathlessly. 

He rose from in between your legs and laid down on top of you, dropping one of his hands back down to your pussy as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips and tongue laced with your own taste. The kiss was fiery and passionate, his lips pressing and pulling at your own as you moaned in response to the movement of his fingers. His face was slick, both with your slick and his perspiration. You could feel his hardness against your belly, your core thumping with anticipation for what was to come. 

“Let’s get this thing off of you,” he grinned, pulling away to tug at the hem of your shirt, lifting his body long enough to slip it off over your head and toss it in the room. He returned to your naked body, his hands smoothing over your breasts and erect nipples. As if he couldn’t resist, he lowered his head, lolling his tongue in loose, wet circles around each swollen bud, suckling and pulling on them. You lifted your hands to his bare shoulders, running your fingertips over the expanse of his back. His skin was so soft, yet his muscles so incredibly strong. 

“Please,” you groaned louder, lifting his face with your hands. “Danny please,” you looked into his deep, chocolate eyes. 

“Please what?” He had the nerve to tease, his breath wisping against your face. “Please what, Y/n?” He asked, his tone looping sugar-sweet into your ears. 

“Please–fuck me,” you finally begged, telling him the words he wanted to hear. “I need you inside of me, now. I need you–” he placed his pointer finger against your lips. 

“You won’t ever have to beg me to fuck you,” he murmured, pulling stray pieces of hair from your face and setting them to the side. In the darkness of the room, his features were cast in a natural blue hue, the sharp lines of his face exaggerated in the contrasting, dark shadows of the evening. He began to move, placing more kisses on each breast, down your sternum and belly before moving off of you. “Do you want to take these off?” Danny asked quietly, standing from the bed. As you sat up, you saw how obvious his erection had become through the crotch of his boxers. 

“Do I turn you on, Danny?” You asked him, looking up from below. He didn’t respond, only gazed down at you with an intensity that needed no further explanation. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his underwear, you rolled them down slowly, taking notice of his prominent happy trail, which led lower and lower as you revealed more of him. Exhilaration rippled over your body as his skin grew paler, another sign of private vanity that you were becoming introduced to. Slowly, you pulled his boxers down, revealing inch by inch his length, springing free. You let his underwear drop to the ground and let him step out of them, kicking them to the side. Taking his cock in your hand, you felt his incredible warmth as you began to stroke it slowly. He heaved a relieved sigh, blood rushing downward as he swelled to full erectness.

“I’ve imagined this for so long,” he murmured. “But this is so much better,” he chuckled softly. You grinned up at him and began to move faster, stroking up and down along the length of his cock, enjoying when he tilted his hips forward in response, silently asking for more. He didn’t indulge, though. “Let me take care of you,” he said quietly, taking his cock in his own hand, backing away from you. “Lay down, sweetheart.” 

You moved toward the end of the bed, resuming a similar position as before, and waited for him to take over. You felt the mattress depress gently as he crawled onto the bed, his hands lifting to spread your legs once more. Reaching up over your head, he grabbed a pillow. “Lift up,” he said gently, and when you did, he slid a pillow under your head. 

“You’re literally perfect,” you chuckled. He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Far from it,” he admitted. “But I wanted this to be,” he finished. Somehow he always knew what to say that would send you further into arousal. He parted your legs again and walked on his knees as he positioned himself just in front of your heat. You looped one of your legs around him as he stroked himself firm once more before guiding his hips forward, pressing his pink tip against your pussy with his tumblr, sliding his length against your clit by rocking his hips slowly back and forth. His hardness felt incredible, stimulating your body to respond by lurching your hips upward in an effort to take more pleasure from him. He did this for a few more passes before pausing to collect your wetness on the tip of his cock. “Are you ready?” he asked in a quiet, sultry tone. 

You nodded quickly, widening your legs. “Yes, Danny please.” Placing his right hand on the mattress at your side to ground himself, he used his dominant hand to guide himself into your entrance, pressing his hips forward to penetrate you for the first time. You gasped quietly, biting down on your bottom lip as your brows furrowed from the slight discomfort of adjusting to his girth. “Fuck,” he uttered, shaking the messy curls out of his face, pressing himself deeper inside of you. You squeezed your core muscles on him, beginning to enjoy the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you further. 

“Come here,” you murmured, reaching for his arms to pull him down. His face had slackened, his features working through a variety of sensations. He moved lower, snaking his arms underneath you as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, rocking his hips back and forth as he slid deeper inside. His breath was heavy, expelling into your open mouth as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands reached for his shoulders, squeezing them before smoothing down his back. You pressed your fingertips into his skin, mimicking the rhythm he’d assumed before. Though the sensations felt wonderful, you needed him to go faster. “Faster,” you whispered. He looked down at you unblinking as he repositioned himself for a moment before quickening his pace, your breasts bouncing freely as your body popped off of his thighs. After a moment, he walked himself off of you and sat up, taking hold of your hips. With this angle, he’d have the leverage to give you exactly what you had asked for. Using your weight, he pulled your hips forward and popped himself forward, jutting his cock deep inside of you, causing a breathless moan to escape from your lips, your eyes rolling back involuntarily as your body ignited inside and out. “Oh my God,” you groaned deeply, taking hold of your breasts and squeezing them while he continued to buck himself into you, listening to the rhythmic clap of your thighs making contact over and over. 

“Better than I could have ever,” he breathed, reaching up to wipe at his sweaty face, “ever imagined.�� His smile was infectious, his gaze fully attentive and loving. You reached up to touch his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in the darkness. He tilted his head to kiss your palm, walking his hand down in between your thighs, fingering your clit. “Oh–shit!” you practically shouted, arching your back off of the bed, squeezing as tightly as you could on his cock. “Danny!” 

His slammed himself into you in response to your moans, hot beads of sweat rolling down his face, nose and down his chest. “You’re perfect, Y/n,” he mewled, reaching forward to squeeze your breast. “Perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect fucking pussy,” he grunted, tweaking and pulling on your nipple as he slowed his thrust momentarily, backing himself almost all the way out of you before letting his weight send him back forward again, filling you up completely. “I feel you all around me, baby,” he said in a low, lustful tone. You responded by tensing around him once more, getting closer and closer to climax with each successive thrust. 

“Danny, I’m getting close–” you told him, your voice rising higher and higher, heavy with exertion.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he responded. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. He pulled you upward and wrapped his arms around you so that you were now in his lap with your legs wrapped around him. “I want you to bounce,” he explained. “And I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he whispered into the curve of your ear. “Don’t be afraid to lose control. I’m here with you. We’re together, just like we should be.” His skin stuck to yours as you began to move. In any other circumstance you would have been miserable being this hot, but in this case, you welcomed it, wanting to be covered in Danny in any and every way imaginable. You wanted to be his in word and in action. As you worked on his cock, his hands moved to your ass, kneading and spreading it as he pulled you flush against his cock, his entire length buried deep inside of you. Disembodied moans and grunts escaped from your throat as your muscles trembled around him. You threw your hands around him, your fingertips combing through his dark ringlets, tugging at them, while your other hand moved along the expanse of his back, your fingers digging carelessly into his perfect skin. 

He hissed in reaction, tilting his head downward to see if he could find the hickey he had left earlier in the evening. When he couldn’t find it in the darkness, he decided he didn’t care to leave only one. He sucked harshly into your skin, his teeth nipping and pulling as he fucked himself up into you, the room thickening with the entrancing odor of sex. 

“Ah!” you yelped loudly, throwing your head upward. He took the narrow, well-timed moment to strike his cock into you as deep as he could. Before you could control yourself, a blast of white light fielded your vision, pulling you upright in a rigid stasis, your floor muscles tightening around him as firmly as you could. Your body quivered intensely as you seized for several silent, agonizing seconds. His arms pulled around you as he left himself anchored inside of you, his hips swinging slowly back and forth. His length pushed against the furthest boundary between ecstasy and agony, sending your hips whipping forward unconsciously. He was rock-hard inside of you, though you could hear him breathing erratically against you. 

“Let go, Y/n. Let go completely,” he urged you, tilting your head to the side so he could kiss you. “I’m not afraid of messes,” he said casually. “We’ll handle it later in the shower,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. “So, let go.” You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting him slowly begin to fuck into you again. This time, he strokes were excruciatingly slow, unsheathing himself almost completely before sending himself forward. “Do it again. Cum with me,” he spoke after a few moments, his voice shifting into one of more urgency. “Let’s cum together.” 

You nodded quickly. “Fuck me hard, Danny. Please.” Your whimpers filled the quiet room, and he obeyed immediately, lifting you up by your hips and slamming  you back down on his cock as he used what little leverage he had to pop himself up into you. 

“Squeeze,” he ordered, firmly slapping your ass. You moaned from the sharp pain, but sank further into ecstasy as you followed his command, tightening your core muscles around his length and resisted from letting go. 

“Fuck!” he groaned. “That’s fucking perfect,” he grunted. “I’m so close,” he told you. You nodded and moved with him. But decided to change positions slightly, pushing on his chest. 

“Lay back,” you told him, and he did, letting go of you. He laid back against the bed, and rested with his hands behind his head. Holding on to his sides, you moved to rest on your knees, undulating your hips against his, swiveling them and dragging yourself up and down against his length. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groaned, watching you as you worked on him, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation swelling in your core. You would have grinned down at him, but your body reserved all resources to focus on the frenzy that claimed your body. 

“Danny,” you moaned his name, pressing down on his belly as you ground your hips against him. 

“I know, baby,” he spoke. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. You lay on top of him, prepared to continue your movement, but he gave one last direction. “Squat on my cock, and lay your head on my shoulder.”

“I’m not that flexible,” you told him in the moment. 

“Just trust me,” he said, moving his hands to your sides, bending your legs. You moved to appease his request, situating yourself into a squat, and then laid your upper body back down, resting your head on his shoulder. You knew that your thighs would burn as a consequence, but he felt so good that it was all worth it. Before you could question further, Danny used the spring of the mattress and his strong hands on your hips to drive his cock into you as quickly as possible, gaining more depth with the open space between himself and your opening. “Take it,” he grunted. “Take all of it.” His voice was clipped, heavy with exhaustion, and you knew he was close. Your inner thighs quivered from the proximity of the incoming orgasm. 

Your jaw fell slack, opening as you began to let yourself finally lose control again. Danny’s face was streaked with perspiration as he began to lapse in momentum. “I’m close–” he blurted after a few moments. “I’m gonna cum,” he said again, increasing his pace. You squeezed and squeezed harder, unsure if you were going to be able to reach orgasm again. In the last moment of insecurity, your body got you there, sending heat exploding through your body. “I’m gonna–” he repeated again and again like a vigil before finally, himself, letting go, moaning loudly and hissing through his teeth as the same agonizing pleasure ripped through his own body. You lowered yourself to him as your core exploded, and pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he pumped his hot seed into you, his hot breath looping around your ears and down your neck as you tensed around him for the last few times. 

You lay there with him, your chests heaving simultaneously. He kissed you deeply, his tongue folding softly with yours as he held you, still mounted inside of you. After a moment, you lifted your head to look at him, and he did the same. You couldn’t help the grin that grew at the corners of your lips. A belly laugh escaped your mouth as you laid back down beside him. 

“What?” He asked with a smirk, rolling on his side. 

“That was fucking incredible,” you admitted. “I never realized that when people talked about witching hour, they meant this…” you grinned, plopping against the pillows. 

“Witching hour doesn’t exist. Those moans everyone talks about? Those aren’t witches. They’re people fucking,” Danny grinned, his white teeth glowing in the darkness. 

“Agh, shut up!” You laughed, reaching for a pillow and slamming it into him. 

“I’m just telling the truth!” he teased, stealing the pillow. 

Stepping off of the bed, he reached his hand downward silently toward you. You looked at it then back up at him. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Let me take care of you. Properly,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “You deserve to go to bed squeaky clean and comfy.” 

You smiled, reaching to take his hand, except you pulled him back down to bed. “No,” you answered decisively. “I don’t want to wash you off,” you admitted, looking him in the eye. “I want to feel like this, to smell like you, to be full of you,” you told him. “So come to bed.” 

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling before he finally answered. “Gladly.”

--

If you would like to join my taglist, fill out this form!

taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @astreamofcolors, @sammysobaby, @gretavanfreakmadie, @weneedsomehealing123, @sarahstardust7, @strawberryblondeee, @squirreledelman, @haylaps, @madneedshelp, @watchingover-hypegirl, @llightmyllovee, @moralmorbid, @gretavangroupie, @jordie-gvf-admin, @brujamagik, @gretasmokerising, @ascendingtothestarsasone, @mama-likes72, @gold-mines-melting, @songbirds-sweet, @myownparadise96, @sanguinebats @sulkyrie, @mackalah, @interstellar-shores, @jakekiszkasmommy, @laneygvf, @overtheehillsandfarawayy, @takenbythemadness, @joshskittytickler21, @jaketlove, @gretasfallingsky, @starshine-gvf, @itsdannysworld, @lipstickitty, @scoreofinfantryvines, @capturethechaos, @tripthelightfatality @hippievanfleet @demolitionndann @thetroublegetssoloud71, @malany-gvf, @gvfmarge, @idontlikelizards, @dont-go-home-without-me, @ace-harrington, @jjwasneverhere, @writingcold

[enchi-elm]

✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

rules: post 7 sentences/a snippet of an unfinished work

I will do you one better, I will just post the whole thing as I'm not planning on taking it anywhere. Thanks, @strangegeology, for the tag!

Unbeta'd, unedited, etc. etc.

tagging @tortoisesshells, @ladysarai, @thenwhatthefukcisthis, @valerileygreen because I thiiiink you weren't tagged yet!

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

one - love

Eames comes across Arthur at the tennis court. He wants to stay back, observe the man from a distance, but Arthur spots him as soon as he’s within view. His game face doesn’t change—if he’s scowling at Eames’ appearance, Eames can’t tell. He might be hitting the ball a little harder and his opponent stumbles as he lunges, sprawling flat against the court as the ball hits the chain-link fence.

Arthur walks to his bag and grabs his towel, holding up a finger and nodding at his opponent. He wipes his face, walking over swiftly to where Eames stands.

Before Eames can make a comment about his tennis whites, or even ask what the hell Arthur is doing playing at a country club, Arthur cuts him off.

"What are you doing here? Whatever this is, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Hello to you, too. But fine, if he wants to get right to business.

“I have a job for you,” Eames says.

“I don’t work for you.”

“No, but I thought you might deign to work alongside me again. For the right price.”

Arthur gives him a wary look, then glances at his opponent, who’s subtly trying to ingest as many glucose tubes as Arthur’s brief distraction will let him.

“I’m busy,” he says, turning away.

“I’ll be at the bar,” Eames calls out, without acknowledgement from the point man.

Arthur goes back to his position, tossing his towel aside en route. His opponent wipes his mouth and gets into position to serve, already grimacing.

Eames watches Arthur return the serve as if he’s decapitating someone.

Eames knows little about tennis and can’t gauge the length of the game before Arthur shows up at the country club, racket and gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eames is deep in conversation with another patron—swindling him blind and leading him on besides—but he gives a thin smile at the younger man’s approach.

“So what do you want?” Arthur asks, and Eames can tell from no tell at all: he won his match.

“Arthur, let me introduce you to Mr. Ian Thorpe. A financier from Atlanta.”

Arthur shakes hands, just this side of civil.

“Pleasure.”

“Your friend’s been spinning me quite the yarn,” the financier says. He’s a forgettable sort of rich—the right colour suit, but the wrong cut. “He’d have me believing in the investment of a lifetime.”

“He’s a crook,” Arthur says, to a chuckle from Eames. “And a liar. But he gets results.”

The man laughs and rises. “Well, maybe I will give you a call then. I’m sure we can find a way to do business.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” Eames says, greasily, packing everything into the lift of his lips that might otherwise be transmitted in a wink. Arthur watches the man leave and takes the other chair at the table.

“He’s not worth your time,” he says.

Eames casually flashes a black leather wallet—not his. “He already has been.”

“I doubt he’ll miss the cash.”

Eames flips it open and pulls out the driver’s license, perusing it. “It’s not the cash that interests me.”

“He’s your target.”

Eames puts away the wallet. “Or maybe just a person of interest.” He focuses on Arthur, a transparent smile on his face. It could mean anything.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to recruit you. If such a thing is even possible—you must be booked well into next year.”

“What’s the job?”

“An oil man. Bit of a twisted one.”

“Let me guess. Inception?” It wouldn’t be the first offer Arthur’s had this month. It wouldn’t be the first of the week. Whoever blabbed—and Arthur has his theories—made sure that their little reverse-heist was on the lips of every extractor in the industry. Not because they’d tried—God, lots of people had tried—but because Fischer Morrow had folded within six months after Fischer Sr.’s death. Even Arthur hadn’t expected such a swift return.

Eames hums, sympathetic to Arthur’s irritation. He must be hearing a lot of it, too. “You know that the men’s world record for the 100 m dash was at a stalemate for 12 years before it was broken? All it took was one man to crack it and it got beat twice again in four years.”

Arthur pushes down the urge to correct him. It was 14 years, not 12. And it took another five years for it to get broken again. But he knows what he’s saying. For the longest time, Inception was only theory.

“Why, did someone else do it?” That would be interesting.

“A sucker born every two weeks, if the rumour mill is to be believed. Personally, I doubt it.”

“Why, ‘cause you weren’t involved?”

“I was going to say,” Eames says, lifting his glass, “because you weren’t.”

The flattery works, for one unexpected second—Arthur feels a warmth in his neck. He pulls out his water bottle and drinks deeply.

“So what is the job? Extraction? I’m not doing more than two levels. I’m not exactly keen for another one of Yusuf’s concoctions.”

“That’s a shame. I can’t get him off my phone. Says he’s never had such a willing test subject. I think he’d work for free if it meant he got another whack at you.”

“Not a chance. Why aren’t you answering my question?”

“Because I’m savouring this time together before you storm off to annihilate some other poor sod on the court.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Why would I storm off?”

“Because you’re not going to like how much you’ll want to do this.”

Arthur listens as Eames tells him the job. He gives it ten steady seconds before he stands and walks away without another word.

“I’ll be in touch!” Eames calls and Arthur gives him the finger without looking back.

[deowon]

﹟HAN JAEWON ⠀╱⠀ 한재원 ⠀ ────── ⠀ a fictional member of south-korean boy group  THE BOYZ.  he made his debut on  DECEMBER 6, 2017  with the single  ‘Boy’  in their mini-album  ‘The First’ .  outside of the group,  he is known for his participation on the second season of hit survival show  PRODUCE 101,  where he placed 13th in the final episode.

a study on  stardom since childhood,  perceived innocence,  misplaced optimism,  being milked for fame,  not-so-first first loves,  last chances,  self-acceptance,  and learning to live for yourself.

　　　　　 ››⠀ BASICS.

BIRTH NAME : 　 han jaewon ⠀ ( 한재원 )

ENGLISH NAME : 　 jamison han

STAGE NAME : 　 jaewon ⠀ ( 재원 ) 

NICKNAMES & TITLES : 　 jaewonnie.  wonnie.  jae.  hannie.  hanjae.  ( all )  james.  jamie.  jam.  sonny.  jw.  (  jacob, kevin, eric + other english speaking friends )  lover boy.  pengwon.  hammie.  idol heartstlear.  nation’s face card.  nation’s sweetheart.  korea’s cutie.  snow prince/ss.  forever rookie.  mr. forgettable.  unknown twelfth.  ( netizens & deobis & antis ) 

DATE OF BIRTH : 　 september 30, 2000 

ZODIAC : 　 libra & dragon 

PRONOUNS : 　 he  ╱  him 

SEXUALITY : 　 biromantic-asexual  ( private )

ETHNICITY : 　 south korean 

NATIONALITY : 　 american 

BIRTHPLACE : 　 gyeonggi, south korea 

HOMETOWN : 　 seongnam, gyeonggi 

LANGUAGES : 　  korean  ( fluent  ╱  mother tongue ).  english  ( fluent ).  japanese + french + italian  ( conversational ).  mandarin  ( basics ).  

　　　　　 ››⠀ PHYSICAL.

HEIGHT : 　 180 cm  |  5’11  

BLOOD TYPE : 　 A

NOTABLE FEATURES : 　 doe eyes.  mole on his lower lip and by his left eye.  small scar on his left palm and back of the neck. 

PIERCINGS : 　 n/a 

TATTOOS : 　 a small star  ( inner left wrist ).  a cat curled in a sleeping position ( above his right knee ). 

FACE CLAIM : 　 kim yonghee  ( cix ) 

VOCAL CLAIM : 　 ha hyunsang  ( soloist )

RAP CLAIM : 　 mark lee  ( nct )

DANCE CLAIM : 　 hwang hyunjin  ( stray kids ).  @/shoyan_yan. 

SPEAKING CLAIM : 　 kim wooseok  ( soloist ; korean ).  joshua hong  ( seventeen ; english ). 

　　　　　 ››⠀ PERSONAL.

MBTI : 　 INFJ-T 

STRENGTHS : 　 soft hearted.  empathetic.  thoughtful.  gracious.  compassionate.  practical insight.  fair-minded.  creative.  organized.  great communication.  understanding of other perspectives.  best hype man out there.  optimistic.  the hardest worker you will ever meet.  high eq.  

WEAKNESSES : 　 conflict averse.  overthinks social interactions.  perfectionist.  insecure / low confidence.  people pleaser.  ignores his needs and wants for others.  has difficulty setting his own boundaries.  gets caught up in stress.  altruistic.  tends to overwork himself by doing too much for others.  

LIKES : 　 soft sweaters.  cheese.  fashion.  reading.  puzzles.  indie rock & r&b.  making & posting song covers.  the colour purple.  cute stuffed animals / trinkets.  shows with more than one season.  strawberries.  pokemon.  babying his members.  getting to perform darker concepts.  psychological thrillers. physics & math.

DISLIKES : 　 having to act cute.  getting involved in arguments without good reason.  waking up before 9 am.  being purposely left out of things.  broken guitar strings.  people touching his stuff without asking first.  uncalled for cliffhangers.  broken promises.  weak plotlines.  superficial relationships.  

HABITS : 　 pouts when focused / in deep thought.  cracking his joints ( knuckles, wrists, & ankles ).  hums instead of responding with words.  chews his lip when annoyed.  clings to a groupmate’s arm when nearby.  rubs at his eyes a lot.  straightens his posture when excited.  hands tremble when nervous.  

FEARS : 　 astraphobia  ( fear of thunder and lightning ) 

KNOWN FOR : 　 his popularity on produce 101.  having the longest training time in the boyz.  being the quietest member.  chaotic solo lives.  emotional singing voice.  being adopted by friends with many other idols.  his bond with keonhee of oneus.  never being scared of chanhee’s antics.  iconic one-liners.  being the younger brother of han subin.  crying at the end of every big tour the group has done so far.  not being in the visual line up.  his soft demeanour & politeness.  his duality on stage.  being the second scariest in the group when mad.  his small hoard of stuffed animals / keychains.  boba eyes.  nepotism allegations.

　　　　　 ››⠀ CAREER.

PROFESSION : 　 idol.  model.  actor. 

COMPANY : 　 ist entertainment  ( 2021 – current ).  cre.ker entertainment  ( 2017 – 2021 ).  sm entertainment  ( 2013 – 2017 ). 

TRAINING PERIOD : 　 four years & four months  ( 2013 – 2017 )

GROUP : 　 the boyz  ( 2017 – current ).  smrookies  ( 2013 – 2016 ). 

POSITION : 　 main vocalist.  main dancer.  sub rapper. 

SPECIALTIES : 　 bass & electric guitar.  songwriting.  producing.  acting.  choreographing.  freestyle.  acrobatics.  figure skating.  

REPRESENTATIVE NUMBER : 　 17 

EMOJIS : 　 🐹  ╱  🐰  ╱  ⭐️  ( main )  🐧  ( fan joke )

INDIVIDUAL FANDOM : 　 PBs 

　　　　　 ››⠀ TRIVIA.

﹟ he used to do competitive figure skating when he was younger but stopped a year after moving to america. he got into the sport because of his sister, han subin—a now retired professional figure skater, and saw her as a role model. 

﹟ despite being seen as soft, jaewon doesn’t get scared easily and often partakes in tormenting the other members with chanhee. he enjoys psychological thrillers the most and gore films the least under the genre. 

﹟ a human scale; he can tell how heavy someone is just by lifting them. 

﹟ there’s an old video of him as a child slipping on the ice and sliding on his stomach, leading to his fans fondly nicknaming him “pengwon”. many often use the penguin emoji as a joke whenever he does something clumsy on screen. 

﹟ whenever nervous or scared, jaewon said that his hands go freezing cold and take a while to warm up again after. he mentioned that it happens a lot still and he isn’t sure how to fix it. 

﹟ his close idols friends include: oneus’ keonhee, verivery’s dongheon, a majority of nct, and sf9’s chani. he wants to be closer with stray kids but is too shy to approach them first. 

﹟ him and sunwoo are childhood friends and somewhat rivals. they used to live close by to each other before and after jaewon moved back to south korea and would bicker a lot. sunwoo mentioned that jaewon is not the type of person you want to play fight with unless you’re sure you’ll win. 

﹟ loves pokemon and animal crossing. his favourite pokemon are mimikyu and eevee while his favourite villagers are raymond and butch. 

﹟ grew up learning piano and cello and is self-taught in bass and guitar. he often helps to compose and produce the group’s music and loves to make his own songs. fans have been begging him to post stuff on soundcloud.

[sebastianswallows]

hi! could i request a little something unconventional? i was thinking something where ominisXmc (or any other pair) had a daughter and seb becomes infatuated with her (she’s of age and reciprocates) and he has to show her how to “love” so to speak. i’m a sucker for age difference

Hi, nonny! Oh my, but this is a naughty one 😅

As a little disclaimer, I don't really think Seb would do this, he'd feel too guilty doing it to Ominis' daughter, and he'd also feel like a bit of an uncle-figure (which complicates matters further haha).

But yeah, have a smutfic of Sebastian healing an emotionally neglected girl with orgasms 💕 Enjoy, my dear!! Mwah 😘

You better be careful what you wish for, btw, because I ship Ominis with Anne, so that would have given this fic a whole nother angle of kink 😂 But I paired him with MC <3

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— WARNINGS: smut, angst, age difference (39 vs 19), vaginal fingering, size difference, frottage

— WORDCOUNT: 12k (another long one 😭)

The first time Sebastian met her, she was only a few years old. It was in many ways a memorable day, yet for the longest time seemed so forgettable. Most of his time had been spent travelling either around the country or abroad, chasing relics for private collectors, breaking curses, and occasionally smuggling the odd forbidden artefact… Seeing the Gaunts had been relegated to a special treat, as he hardly had time to visit his friends and their new family.

He’d been to Ominis’ wedding — as best man, no less — when he wed their childhood friend. It was not long after their graduation, as was often the case with wealthy pureblood families. Sebastian was happy for them. He’d caused them so much trouble, after all, dragging them into his search for the cure that afflicted Anne, then making them accomplices, in a way, to his uncle's murder… He hadn’t thought much of it during 5th year when everything seemed urgent and risks didn’t matter. In retrospect, between what befell his family and the fight against Ranrock, that had been a year most mad for all involved.

Sebastian first met little Miss Gaunt a few years before she was due to attend Hogwarts. At around the age he and Anne had lost their parents, in fact… Ominis and his wife had a modest little mansion that they made the most of, his older brother having inherited the bulk of the family fortune.

They had lunch and dinner, and Sebastian stayed with them overnight, and they went out for a picnic the next day. Their daughter was a bit shy, but she loved running in the sunshine. They all enjoyed the picnic while keeping an eye on her, but she never got into trouble — nothing like he and Anne when they were children.

The next time he saw her, she was in her 5th year. He had just arrived from France and was yearning for some old-fashioned English hospitality. Ominis offered to host him for a few weeks and Sebastian was looking forward to spending time with his best friends again. Their house was more stern and sparsely decorated than he remembered, but it was blissfully cool inside.

He’d just been there one day when the Gaunt daughter arrived from school for summer break. He almost didn’t recognise her, although she seemed to recognise him.

“What do you say, dear?” Her mother wrapped an arm around her back and held her tightly to her side, looking down at the girl with a thin smile.

“Hello, Uncle Sebastian.”

“Good girl. Now go take your things upstairs.”

He smiled warmly at her and tipped his head in a polite salute before she went up to her room, carrying her luggage. She’d been sweet, there was no cause to mention to her that he hated being called Uncle, for personal reasons… He wondered if Ominis or his wife ever realised it.

“We try to encourage her to be more independent, not rely on house elves,” said Mrs Gaunt as they went into the tearoom where Ominis was. “We didn’t have anyone to wait on us hand and foot when we were growing up, did we? So it’s best she doesn’t get accustomed to how they do things in Ominis’ family.”

“A bit of pampering never hurt anyone though,” said Sebastian, who at her age would have cherished a little bit of luxury.

“She’s spoiled enough,” said her mother, waving her hand dismissively.

Lunches and dinners were quite formal, with rich but measured dishes. The house elves apparated the meals on the heavy wooden table, but Mrs Gaunt and her daughter took them away after the meal was over while Ominis and Sebastian talked.

They discussed Ominis’ side of things more often than not and tried not to talk about Sebastian’s work, but it was clear questions lingered in the air. Why was he away for so long? What did he do on the continent? Who was he working for? And why did he sound so, so tired… Still, Ominis learned very little about what Sebastian was doing. It was for the best.

Meanwhile, as the weeks progressed, Sebastian learned a great deal more about the Gaunts. Subtle as Ominis normally was, he never shied away from criticising his family, and he took particular delight in talking about them now. They weren’t fairing well, Sebastian found out, losing vast sums to gambling or debts or irrational expenses. Ominis and his wife kept their part of the family afloat through careful management, and they shared none of it with his estranged siblings.

“Is that why you’re so spartan about everything?” asked Sebastian with a smirk as they drank firewhisky at the empty dinner table.

“I’m only being reasonable,” said Ominis. “We both agreed on it.”

“You and your wife?”

“Yes.”

“I just hope you’re not pulling the belt a bit too tightly…”

“Oh, come now, do you live in the lap of luxury?”

“You know I don’t…”

“So?”

Sebastian smiled tightly and sipped his drink again. “It does not make for a particularly charming childhood, that is my one observation, if I may…”

“You don’t think we’re being too strict, do you?”

“I just hope you’re not trying to compensate for anything through her…”

“We’re not,” said Ominis firmly. “She has a more privileged childhood than I ever had…”

“Just because you’re not practising Crucio on her does not mean she’s—”

“Sebastian, please,” he frowned, “I never should have asked…”Ominis took another drink to calm his nerves and sighed. “She’s a little shy, maybe, but she’s always been like that. She has the very best —”

“She wasn’t like that the last time I visited.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he’d even broached this subject, why he was challenging Ominis. The Gaunt family were within their rights to conduct themselves as they saw fit, and he, a bachelor, hardly had a say in this.

“She was five years old then,” said Ominis sternly.

“So?”

“So children change as they grow up… Really, Sebastian, I’d have thought you of all people understand that. I certainly thought you’ve changed over the years… Perhaps I was wrong.”

Sebastian sighed and dropped the subject — as he always did whenever Ominis brought up what happened in his fifth year. It was like he constantly held it above his head, that and every other mistake he’d made, waiting to drop it on him whenever he stepped out of line.

He wondered if Ominis did the same with his daughter…

He saw her on rare occasions other than at lunch and dinner, sometimes throughout the house or when they were both out in the garden.

She wasn’t much for talking, although she liked it when Sebastian showed her new spells. They sat together on the little stone bench beneath an ageing chestnut tree, and Sebastian would make its falling white petals form shapes in mid-air, birds and foxes and wolves, and have them run after each other.

“Which one do you bet on?” he asked as he directed the chase with his wand.

“The wolf,” she said with a laugh. “He’s the fastest and the strongest.”

“Really? Well, let’s see…”

By the end of the slow, floating chase, the bird had won. It took refuge high in the branches and ruffled its petal feathers at its pursuers below.

“How about that?” smiled Sebastian, looking fondly down at her.

The girl laughed, her smile weak and awkward, as she looked up at the free flower-bird. But she was still so different from the carefree child he’d seen years ago…

Sebastian left a week after that and only kept in touch with Ominis through Owls. He learned about how their family’s prospects slowly improved, how they moved to a new house, the ill fate that befell other Gaunts, and then about their daughter’s graduation. She’d been decisively average in her N.E.W.T.s, to the disappointment of both her parents, but Ominis said that, aside from that, “she was doing well”. It sounded like make-believe.

Sebastian visited them two years later. He’d just finished a lengthy and rather harrowing job in southern Spain, one that had gone quite wrong. A few deaths occurred. All in all, Sebastian was keen to get away from it, to go back home in colder climes, and forget all about it.

The Gaunts, conveniently, were vacationing on the Isle of Arran and invited Sebastian to join. He gladly accepted. They were renting a house near Sannox by the sea and boasted of daily excursions.

“We’re going up Goatfell Mountain tomorrow,” said Mrs Gaunt after she showed him his room. “Do you wish to join?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “why not?”

The house was old but solid, with thick brick walls and smooth wooden floors, old furniture, and a lovely view. The sound of the waves never ceased.

Little Miss Gaunt was staying in the room next to his on the 1st floor. Before he saw her around the house, Sebastian had wondered whether she was even there, as they hardly mentioned her and she didn’t make a sound from her room. But she came down at dinnertime, and they all ate together in the living room on the ground floor.

She smiled at him the first time she saw him, and gave him another “Hello, Uncle Sebastian.”

She was a bit taller than last time and had lost some of the baby fat of her younger years. Her dress that first evening was a frilly thing with colours that didn’t suit her. It was clearly chosen for her by her mother, in the hope that it would feminise her a bit…

It became obvious during dinner that the girl would rather have been anywhere else. Sebastian had often felt that way with the sordid sorts of wizards he had to deal with in his work…

Mr and Mrs Gaunt chatted away, asking obliquely about the sort of things Sebastian had done in Spain. They veered very quickly to talking about how their former schoolmates were doing when it became obvious Sebastian’s dealings weren’t fit for dinner conversation. The girl picked at her food and drank a great deal of water and just kept quiet while her parents spoke incessantly about other people — who got married, who died, who went on to work where…

“We’d like for her to either find someone nice, or at least get some employment,” said Mrs Gaunt at one point, looking at her daughter pointedly, who ignored her. “But,” she sighed, “no such hope thus far.”

“It will be alright,” said Ominis. “Things will fall into place in due time.”

“You can’t keep speaking like that,” said his wife. “Especially not around her. She’ll grow complacent.” She then turned to Sebastian with an air of tired exasperation. “To get her to go out into society is like pulling teeth. Took tremendous effort to have her join us on this trip. But it will do her good to be out in nature, don’t you think?”

“Oh, of course,” said Sebastian, smiling awkwardly. “I remember she used to love being out in nature, isn’t that right?” he asked, leaning over a little to see the girl just past her mother. She didn’t look up from her plate.

“She used to frolic like a goat when she was little,” Mrs Gaunt laughed. “What a darling, she was… Oh, but those days are long gone, she’s no fun at all anymore.” The woman turned to her daughter and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her heavy jewelled earring in her palm for a moment to assess it, as if it might’ve broken while the girl wore it. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he could call it tension, that which was between the daughter and her parents. She was sullen more than resentful or angry… But there was definitely resentment there as she was spoken of and pawed at like a doll while simultaneously criticised for being… herself.

Their trip to Goatfell Mountain the next day was a chance to relax. Mr and Mrs Gaunt were quite happy to undertake the trip, which was two hours away from where they stayed, while Sebastian and Miss Gaunt walked behind them — sometimes together, sometimes apart. They didn’t speak much aside from pleasantries, and coordinating with each other as they climbed the smooth, thick rocks that made the mountainside.

But Sebastian didn’t feel she was the same around him as she was around her parents. She was lost in thought and distant, sure, but the undercurrent of anxiety that seemed to normally grip her was abated.

“You must be relieved to be done with classes,” said Sebastian as he helped her up a slope.

“A bit, yes,” she said, still quite reserved. She clung to his hand, her grip reedy but strong.

“So what plans do you have now that you’re free?”

“Please, don’t you ask me that too,” she said, begging almost.

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Sorry. Sounded a bit too much like your mother there, didn’t I?”

She said nothing, but he knew it was the truth.

“At least you can practice magic out of school grounds now whenever you like,” he said. “What was your favourite subject?”

“I didn’t really have any,” she said, walking slow and cautious on the slippery rocks, holding her skirt up to watch the ground. “I liked the thing you did with the petals last time though…” she said after a short silence.

“You remember that?” grinned Sebastian. “That was just a bit of coordinated levitation… I could teach it to you, if you want.”

She looked briefly at him from the corner of her eyes and smiled in a tight, awkward way. “Father says you work with dark magic…”

“Well… That’s not the only magic I know.”

He felt uncomfortable, confessing this to her like that. He didn’t know what she thought of dark magic, but if it was anything like Ominis, it wasn’t good. Still, she didn’t seem to recoil from him after that, although she was so hard to read, always in her shell…

After a slow trek, all four of them reached the summit. It was a flat and grey expanse with a beautiful view of green hills behind them, and the sea ahead. The clouds were low and soft, mere vapours teasing a hint of blue sky between their folds.

Sebastian sat down to catch his breath, his hat resting on his knee, while Ominis and his wife did the same a few feet away. His wife was describing the scene to him, although Sebastian was sure his friend could feel the view, somehow, through the air, through the far sound of the sea, through the soft moss that grew on the granite and the lichen that spotted it. He smiled watching the two of them, nearly unchanged since childhood. Could he say the same? All he had to show for the passing years were a few grey hairs and new wrinkles.

Miss Gaunt joined him, sitting just an arm’s length away. His smile widened upon seeing her.

“Well?” asked Sebastian. “Was it worth the trouble to come all the way up here?”

“No,” she said, sounding quite bored. But then she broke into a little smile and looked down again. She was pretending to be more grumpy than she really was…

“Not very exciting, I suppose,” he shrugged, playing along with her. “Perhaps you’d have more fun in the city.”

“I think I would like that,” she said.

Sebastian looked at her, pleasantly surprised by this hint of her enthusiasm.

She wore a dark grey skirt today, with buttons on the side, and a white shirt embroidered with flowers which fluttered around her figure in the wind. The lace collar lapped against her neck. Her hair, though ruffled slightly from their journey, sat neatly pinned beneath her broad straw hat. She kept her hand on top of it so that the wind wouldn’t blow it away.

“I could take you, you know,” he offered. “When I go back to London.”

She looked at him with something like fear or surprise. “N-no, thank you,” said the girl, smiling awkwardly. “I don’t think mother would let me.”

“Why not?” said Sebastian. “I could ask her. I’m sure she —”

“No, no —”

“But you’re so unhappy with them...”

She stopped whatever she was about to say and could only give a tight, painful smile in response.

Sebastian felt sorry to have been so blunt, but as he looked into her eyes, he could tell they had finally reached a real, uncompromising understanding together, something other than the stilted, tepid pleasantries of family friends.

He leaned over and placed his hand on hers, and could feel the warmth of her hand through the gloves.

“I’m leaving for London at the end of the week,” said Sebastian. “I know an apothecary who lets a room above his shop on Diagon Alley, you’d be very comfortable there… I could show you around, show you the best bookstores and dressmakers. You can meet new people there, maybe meet a boy,” he smiled.

“No,” she said, suddenly looking down and blushing.

“Alright, no boys,” he chuckled. “But do you want to come? You don’t have to stay long…”

She didn’t say anything, but he could see her looking to the side, thinking about it. Sebastian gave her another encouraging squeeze of the hand and then released her.

“Why don’t you try being on your best behaviour today?” he suggested, fiddling with the rim of his hat. “Put your parents in a good mood, make them more amenable.”

“How could I be on my best behaviour?” she asked, frowning up at him slightly. She clearly resented his request.

Sebastian thought about it for a moment. What would parents like hers want to see? They clearly had no patience for her more childish inclinations, her savage and withdrawn demeanour… He’d heard her mother describe her daughter as a “wild creature” on more than one occasion — not as some untamed thing, because she was in many ways quite docile, but as someone completely apart from civilization. They wanted her to perform: in school, in society, and now in adult life. And their daughter had fallen short on all fronts.

In spite of her quietness and her poor grades, she wasn’t dumb. She could sense their disappointment and naturally resented them for it. Sebastian realised with a clench of his heart that the love she had received so far was always conditional.

“Walk with your back straight,” he said matter-of-factly, “and walk a bit more in front, rather than always behind them. Smile a little, if you can, and speak up a bit more when you have a thought.”

The girl shook her head. “They criticise me whatever I say. Whatever opinion I share is stupid. Whatever thing I like is in poor taste… And they do tell me to smile more, but when I do, they say how ugly I look doing it.”

Sebastian sighed. He’d met people like that before. In fact, his Uncle Solomon was such a character. Nothing his nephew ever did was good enough...

Sebastian didn’t wish to blame his childhood friends for ending up being such parents, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment toward them too. He had to remind himself that he’d never had children, and he never knew what difficulty that entailed.

“Walk with me, then, when we return. We can pretend to be chatting.”

She nodded and smiled at him gratefully, with just a hint of embarrassment. It took a while for Sebastian to realise she wasn’t embarrassed to be in his company, but to be offered help…

Mr and Mrs Gaunt led the way as they descended Goatfell, the woman boasting of the sketches she’d made of the landscape. She’d drawn with particularly deep strokes so that Ominis could feel them too.

“But it doesn’t compare to the colours, does it?” she asked, turning her head to Sebastian and her daughter who walked a few steps behind. “So cold and yet so alive…”

“Bunch of grey rocks and grey water,” her daughter mumbled only loud enough for Sebastian to hear.

He hid his grin behind his fist.

But she made an effort to follow his advice somewhat and walked like a proper lady beside him rather than a morose teenager dragged along by her parents. And they didn’t have to pretend to chat, as conversation came easily to them.

“So what is there to do on Diagon Alley except shop for school supplies?”

“Well, that’s where most of the wizarding businesses are, these days. Bookstores, broomstores, potioneers, anything you could ever want. You’d be surprised at how much there is to see there, how much you haven’t seen when you were just getting your school books and a cauldron…”

“And Knockturn Alley?” she asked with a cautious tone.

“Now how do you know about that?”

She shrugged. No doubt Ominis had told her about it… Warned her about it.

“Well, it’s not something you should concern yourself with. That’s no place for a young lady.”

“Oh…” She sounded disappointed.

Sebastian didn’t talk to the Gaunts about taking her to London that evening, nor the next, but the day before he left he brought it up with Mrs Gaunt after dinner. She and the girl were in the kitchen, one using magic to wash the dishes, the other to dry them.

Mrs Gaunt seemed sceptical at first and gave her daughter an apprehensive look, but underneath that, Sebastian could tell she saw the potential benefits… It was easier, he knew from experience, for him to convince her of an idea, and for her to convince Ominis.

A few carefully placed words and two weeks later, and he Floo the girl into Diagon Alley.

“Let me carry that,” said Sebastian, leaning down to pick up her suitcases as she brushed the green dust off her skirt.

“Oh no, I can —” she immediately said.

“Nonsense. Let me be a gentleman for you.”

“Well, if you —”

“On one condition.”

“What?” she asked, a bit startled by his suddenly serious tone.

“Never call me ‘Uncle Sebastian’ again.”

“Oh, alright,” she laughed.

Sebastian had arranged for her to stay above the apothecary he’d mentioned before, on a street not far from where he lived.

“My flat is just around the corner, there,” he pointed out from the window. “Around there, and to the right, then a left, and it’s in a big redbrick building.”

“I’m not sure I’ll remember that,” she frowned, looking out the window with him. “But thank you… I’ll try to pay you back, you know.”

“Don’t even think about it,” said Sebastian as they turned their attention inside the room. “It’s my gift. To compensate for never bringing you anything from my trips,” he smiled.

“I don’t think father would’ve accepted them anyway,” she said with a timid smile. “He never seemed to like the places you went to.”

“Yes, I thought as much…”

“But they never seemed so bad. France, Spain, Switzerland… I never understood what was so bad about your trips. I wished I could go sometimes.”

“Well, maybe someday, you will,” he smiled down at her fondly. “Hopefully for pleasure though, not business.”

She bit her lip and looked up at him for a moment, then down again. Sebastian played with the rim of his hat and looked around. The room was furnished but was quite sternly decorated. It was yearning to be filled.

“I shall let you settle in, then,” he said after an awkward silence. “We can meet for lunch.”

They met for lunch every day after that, and for dinner too. In between that, if Sebastian had time to spare — and he made sure to have plenty for her — he’d show her his favourite shops, a different one each day. He led her through the streets that she visited before each school year, but he could tell she looked at them with different eyes now. She could go anywhere, buy anything — within her budget — and stay in any place for as little or as long as she liked. When they grew bored of Diagon Alley, they went through Muggle London. He showed her where all the nice lady shops were too, although he confessed to not knowing much of them.

Against her protestations, he bought her a few things, trinkets mostly and souvenirs, nothing so expensive that would make her feel indebted to him. She looked guilty to receive anything at all, and it broke his heart to see it.

He knew Ominis and his wife didn’t deprive her of anything growing up, but somehow they’d raised a child that felt unworthy of receiving positive attention… Whether they tried too hard to make her self-sufficient or Ominis complained too much about his wasteful family, something had gone wrong somewhere. Sebastian knew it wasn’t his place to fix it, but it was hard to hold himself back… He felt so at peace when he was around her, so at home, more than he ever remembered feeling in long, long years.

She had put his gifts away each time into her purse and sometimes didn’t even open them, choosing instead to look down morosely and change the subject to something else. He couldn’t help but feel unwanted by the time two weeks were over, and was surprised by how much it hurt. Somehow, the thought of not being good enough for her was devastating to him, although the implications were perverse — as were his dreams at night, increasingly, the longer they spent time together.

But then one evening he walked her to her flat after a day of walking around the furthest edges of Diagon Alley, close to where Knockturn Alley was. She’d been understandably apprehensive the whole time, although he reassured her they would not cross over into it. Still, there were tendrils of dark magic floating in the air that any witch could sense.

He didn’t know what possessed him to walk her all the way to the door, and further in. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure she felt safe — and besides, she didn’t stop him.

She seemed a bit shy about letting him in though, unable to meet his eyes or stand still. As he wished her good night, he realised why.

On the little vanity, lined up around the mirror, were all the gifts he’d given her. The thin silver bracelet hung around the neck of a wooden cat figurine like some long and fancy necklace, the enamel box stood open holding a jar of enchanted red ink and a fimble embossed with flowers, the journal he had monogrammed with her initials lay beneath a new pair of calfskin gloves, and the silk scarf with a flexing snake on it was coiled by its side.

He forgot whatever he was saying, lips parting in a smile, and after taking it all in, he looked at her again.

For her party, the girl felt quite stupid. She’d never blushed so fiercely, and although it was too late now, she took her hat off and moved to block Sebastian’s view of the vanity.

“So you did like the things I got you,” he said cheerfully.

“I never said I didn’t,” she muttered, going to hang the hat on the back of the chair.

“You let me think so, though,” he said, frowning at her but speaking with a playful tone.

“Well, I’m sorry…”

“But why don’t you wear any of them?” asked Sebastian, stepping quickly around her to look at them again.

She turned toward him, squeezing the fingers of one hand in the other. “I didn’t wish to ruin them…”

Sebastian looked at her. “How would you ruin them?”

She shrugged.

And he thought they made such progress while they were together… She spoke more, spoke openly, shared her opinions with him however harsh or strange — and he’d been surprised to find out she had really strong opinions about certain things, which made him wonder at the true depth of her internal life, her thoughts, her feelings, everything she kept hidden from the world.

He sighed, and went to pick up the silver bracelet. It was a chain of tightly interlocking links on the front side of which a marcasite-encrusted serpent coiled. He set his hat on the desk and placed his gloves there too, and unclasped the bracelet.

“Here,” he said, turning toward her. “Give me your hand.”

She extended her left hand to him, and Sebastian locked it around her little wrist. He held her hand in his and looked at it. Silver suited her complexion well…

“See? Not ruined,” he smiled, holding her gaze.

The girl smiled tensely and looked at the bracelet. It was too sad a smile for Sebastian to bear.

“What are you thinking?” he quietly asked.

“That if I use them, I’ll break them or stain them or lose them somewhere...”

“But if you just have them lying around, they’ll last longer?”

She nodded.

“Well, I’m flattered to know they mean so much to you,” he smiled. “But I’d rather you use them and ruin them than not use them at all. I bought them for you, for you to enjoy. And you can’t enjoy them when they’re just sitting there,” he chuckled.

She smiled a little wider, her eyes still aimed down. Sebastian’s grip went up from her fingers to close around her wrist, cupping it in his hand, gently pushing her sleeve away. He could almost hear her breath catch in her throat. When he looked at her face again, he found her looking back at him.

He didn’t know what he saw in her eyes, and couldn’t begin to guess what she was seeing in his. And before he could think of what to say, the girl stretched up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled her body close to his, and by instinct, by sheer need, he held her to him. In the silence between them, he could sense so much, so many things she left unsaid but which he keenly felt.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Hmm? Why are you so sad? Do you miss your parents?”

He could feel her shaking her head.

“Do you wish to go elsewhere? Are you tired of this place?” he chuckled. “I know these aren’t the most glamourous accommodations, but…”

She shook her head again.

Sebastian held her tightly to him and sighed. “Are you in love?” he asked.

She stayed still this time, frozen in his arms.

“You’re lovesick? Is that it?” He laughed and pulled her closer.

The girl didn’t answer, but Sebastian didn’t need her to. They held each other, basking in each other’s warmth, and he noticed he could feel her heartbeat against his chest.

Sebastian couldn’t help but wonder who this boy was that she loved, where she even met him. Maybe it was a handsome young clerk in one of the shops they visited, or someone she’d spotted at a restaurant when they were having lunch, or maybe — Merlin forbid — a muggle she saw when they were out in London… For some reason, all of those ideas made him feel strange, uncomfortable, and quite a bit angry.

“Who is it, then?” he asked, putting a smile on his face as he leaned away to look down at her face again.

The girl looked up at him and wouldn’t say a word, instead biting her lip to keep quiet. He’d seen such secretive moods from her before, but none that were so deep, that hung so heavily over their conversation.

“I promise I won’t tell your parents. It’s just an innocent crush, I suppose, right?”

It took some effort and courage on her part, but finally, she nodded.

Sebastian gave a deep sigh. “So, who is it?” he asked again, his broad hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You can tell me…”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why? Don’t you know his name?”

“I do…”

“And?”

She kept looking at him with those large, sad eyes. He had hoped that by now she would’ve learned he was her friend…

“Is it someone you… shouldn’t like?” he tried.

She nodded.

“I see… Well, you’re a clever girl to realise it. In that case, perhaps it’s best you put him out of your mind.”

He suddenly remembered how long he’d been holding her, and although he wanted nothing more than to comfort the girl all night, he began to let her go.

“Uncle Seb— Sebastian,” she said quickly, “it’s… it’s not a boy.”

He froze and looked at her, wondering what she meant. “What is it then?” he asked. “It’s not a goblin, is it?” he asked, teasing her.

“No!” she laughed, looking down again. “It’s…”

But she couldn’t speak, couldn’t say it. Her hands left his shoulders and went down to his waist, pulling him close to her again, begging wordlessly for another hug. He couldn’t deny her. Sebastian sighed deeply with a smile as he held her to his chest.

He wished he could help her, make all her dreams come true, and give her the comfort and the love she’d never had enough of. His hand came up and pet the back of her head, trying not to ruffle her carefully pinned hair. The feeling of it sent shivers down his spine that he didn’t think he should experience. Her breath hitched at the sensation, and with a subtle step forward, she pressed herself more firmly to his front. Sebastian swallowed an embarrassing moan and tried to turn his hips away, but then she leaned back, pressing her head deeper in his hand, and looked up at him as if waiting for something.

“Who are you thinking of?” he asked in a low voice, hoping that she told him of someone, anyone, to drive away his unworthy desires. “Who is it?” he asked, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

The girl swallowed the knot in her throat, terrified by the intensity of his gaze. Her face flushed red and her eyes teared up, but she worked up the courage to lean up, and wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss his cheek.

Sebastian could have died on the spot. His arms tightened around her as if he really would have died if he didn’t have her to cling to... Could she do that? Could she kiss him? When her lips parted from his skin, he turned his head and kissed her cheek as well. His hands began to tremble as he realised who she had meant…

“…Me?” he asked, clinging more tightly to her. “D-do you mean me?”

She nodded, her soft cheek brushing against his.

Sebastian sighed from the depth of his chest and moaned. “How could you do that?” he asked with a shaky laugh. “How could you mean me? I’m… I…”

He was nearly forty years old, and she wasn’t yet twenty. As if that wasn’t enough, she was the daughter of his two best friends. He couldn’t imagine doing that to Ominis — whatever that was, because he certainly had no intention of compromising her or… or…

Slowly, she pulled away from him, the hug relaxing in a loose holding of hands. “Oh,” she said, and she sounded so dejected. Whatever tension was on her face before faded, her eyes downcast, her mouth frowning.

“I don’t mean that… that you’re… I mean, that I don’t…” Sebastian cursed quietly. “I don’t mean that you’re not charming and beautiful and…” She looked up at him and took his breath away again. “And lovely,” he finished.

“So it’s just that you don’t like me,” she said, seeming to have decided for him that she wasn’t good enough.

“No,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek firmly, “that’s not it. What I meant was… that you shouldn’t like me.”

“I know that, but do you think I can help it?”

The sudden resolve in her surprised him. Sebastian chuckled softly, his thumb tracing circles on her cheek.

“No, I don’t imagine you can help it,” he replied, his voice low and soft. “And to be honest, I can’t either.”

The girl looked up at him quizzically, seemingly torn between hoping he said what she thought he did, and fearing that he didn’t. He wasn’t usually so hard to read, he was certainly more expressive and open than her, but right now, his gaze was thoroughly impenetrable.

Sebastian fought against himself, against the last lingering denial of what he felt for her, but he knew it had reached its end.

“I only want what’s best for you. Do you know that?” he asked.

“Yes?” she quietly said.

“And this isn’t what’s best for you.”

“What is, then?” she frowned.

“You deserve to be loved,” he said tenderly. “To know what it’s like to be loved, to know that you… you deserve it.”

She bit her lip, and he could tell his words hurt her somehow, reminding her of what she lacked in life. His thumb caressed her cheek again.

“I can’t do that to you, though,” he chuckled nervously. “Your father would kill me.”

“I would never tell him,” she said, her hands fisting at the back of his coat.

“That isn’t the sort of thing you should say…”

“I don’t care what I should or shouldn’t say. What about what I want?”

He swallowed thickly and groaned, feeling himself crumble before her.

“You bought me all these things,” the girl continued, looking plaintively and angrily into his eyes, “but you won’t… won’t…”

“Won’t what?” he asked. “Can you even say it?”

She frowned again, her eyes tearing with frustration at her own shyness.

“You say I deserve to be l-loved,” she mumbled, peeking up at him for scant seconds. “But if you won’t do it, who will?”

Sebastian whimpered deep in his throat. He had nothing to say to that.

“Do you want me to find someone else?” she asked.

“No,” said Sebastian instantly, his grip around her waist tightening.

The girl, impish little thing, smiled victoriously.

“Then why won’t you show me?” she whispered, standing on her tiptoes again to reach closer to him, her head tilting dreamily, her eyes large and vulnerable and full of hope. “Just because I shouldn’t like you that way? Nobody else likes me but you, anyway” she said, sounding terribly sad where only a second ago she was flirtatious.

“That isn’t true,” said Sebastian, shaking his head.

“It feels that way to me.”

He shook his head again, but he had no way to contradict her because he felt as if he was the only one in the world who truly loved her — and what madness it was to admit it — who truly wanted her, top to bottom, the whole of her, for himself.

“Do you… have someone else?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Then, why not…”

“I told you, your father, both your parents in fact —”

“They don’t care about what I want,” she said, “so why should I care about what they want?”

He laughed. Her frown deepened thinking that he laughed at her.

“Never knew you were so headstrong,” he said, both hands coming up to cup her face.

She whimpered at the warm touch from him, so close to being caressed and yet still held so far from him, from the only man who ever made her feel anything.

He tilted his head and leaned in closer until she could feel his breath on her lips. “I can’t give you what you want,” he sighed, his eyes searching hers. “But I… I can show you how I feel.”

She looked up at him again, a thread of hope winding around her heart.

“And show you what… what you really feel too,” he added with a teasing smile.

The girl barely opened her mouth to ask what he meant when he dipped down to kiss her.

She winced in surprise at the touch of his lips and her whole body felt alight. She didn’t know when she closed her eyes, but within a few heartbeats she was lost to his embrace, knowing nothing else in the world but his touch — big, warm, rough hands around her jaws, tilting her head upward, plump, chapped lips surrounded by an evening stubble caressing her mouth, breath tickling her cheek...

When he pulled back to catch his breath, she nearly chased after him. It had been her first kiss, and she could hardly imagine anything more exhilarating. The feelings that were rushing through her made her dizzy, but looking into his eyes steadied her. Still, she keenly feared his rejection. She knew what she wanted from him was wrong, but was too hungry for his love to care.

“Why can’t you give me what I want?” she spoke with a hint of desperation.

“You know why, sweetheart,” he smiled, his eyes growing sad at the sight of her so needy. “But… I can still love you. Show you how much I love you,” he said. “Is that enough for now?”

The girl frowned but nodded eagerly, the longing of months and years finally spilling over. She leaned in for another kiss. Sebastian chuckled at her eagerness and gave her what she wanted, while they both tried not to think of how illicit, how wrong this was. They kissed in the centre of the room until they both were breathless, and he felt her finally calm down. Against his chest, he felt her heart beat steadily.

“Did I give you your first kiss, my lovely one?” he asked.

She nodded.

“And your second one?”

“Y-yes…”

Sebastian chuckled and leaned down to kiss her again. She moaned into his mouth.

“And your third?” he sighed against her lips.

She whimpered and clung to his cravat, pulling him down to kiss her again, and he smiled against her mouth. She seemed to like being kissed, so he put all his care into it. His lips nipped hers, then covered them for long, languid caresses, and his hands went up from her waist to the bottom of her ribs, squeezing her gently.

With a moan, he parted from her again and looked at her. He couldn’t help but give her another little peck on the lips before stepping away. The girl whined, her arms reaching for him. It made Sebastian grin at how greedy she’d become…

“May I?” he asked with his hands on the lapels of his jacket.

“Oh,” she whispered, “oh, erm, yes…” He was planning something, she could tell.

He smiled fondly at her and took his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the chair beside her vanity. “Why don’t you sit down, my lovely one?” he said.

She blushed fiercely but did as he said, and went to sit down on the bed, her body facing his.

“Take your boots off,” he said as he unbuttoned his vest. “And your drawers, too.”

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his words. Without taking her eyes off him, she leaned down and unlaced her boots, putting them to the side. Her toes curled as she prepared herself for what came next. Sebastian’s eyes raked over her as he loosened his cravat. His brown eyes never left her, the edges crinkling as he smiled.

Rising her hips slightly, she rolled her long skirt to her knees and dipped her hands beneath it, tugging the drawers off her hips then off her legs, and let them rest on the floor. She looked away from Sebastian, her breathing frantic and her face all red at what she had just done. She looked as if she were still fully dressed, but now Sebastian knew there was nothing protecting her intimate parts from him.

Slowly, he took his boots off too and let them lay where they fell, and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. He licked his lips hungrily as he stepped closer to the bed, letting his fingers trail lightly over the silken sheets.

“You really are lovely, you know?” he breathed, his voice low with desire.

She bit her lip and tensed up again, moving up the bed the closer he got until she was next to the pillows. Sebastian stopped in front of her, his knees next to her own, and cupped his hand beneath her chin. She looked up at him so innocently that he felt like a bit of a monster, but he was determined to strike a balance between what she asked for, and what he was ready to give…

“Will you let me lay beside you?” he whispered.

She moaned and nodded, moving to the side to make room for him, inviting him on the bed next to her. Sebastian sat down, wearing just his shirt and trousers with the suspenders framing his chest, then moved so that his back was against the pillows.

“Come lay here,” he said, patting his chest.

The girl seemed a bit confused but quickly understood what he wanted when he lightly spread his legs. With an awkward little shuffle, she eased herself to the middle of the bed, between his thighs, and let her back lay against his front. Sebastian’s arms instantly encircled her, holding her warmly to his body, cradling her.

For a while, they stayed like that, with his lips at her temple and her hands clasping his arms. She worried he might be uncomfortable, with her back against him and the stiff corset digging into him, but Sebastian didn’t seem to mind. He felt warm, and firm, and steady, and gradually her heartbeat calmed.

“For how long have you felt this way?” Sebastian eventually asked.

Her knees bent slightly, as if she could hide away. “I don’t want to tell,” she muttered.

Sebastian chuckled and wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Alright, you don’t have to say it,” he whispered against her cheek, “for now.”

His lips trailed down to her jaw, little suckling pecks that made her sight and tilt her head, then went down the column of her neck, stopping at the clavicle. He felt her stiffen in his arms again. Carefully, so as to not scare her more, his right hand uncurled itself from around her waist and travelled lower to her hip. Tug by tug, he raised her skirt a little higher.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to do something… but tell me if you don’t want it.”

The girl winced and shook her head.

“No?” he asked.

“No, yes. Don’t stop,” she breathed.

Sebastian laughed lightly and kept pulling her skirt up, all the way until he could dip his hand beneath it. She gasped when she felt his fingers on her inner thigh.

“Is this good?” he asked.

She nodded, settling more firmly against him. He moaned deep in his chest when he felt her bottom rub against his bulge, but continued with the gentle motions of his hand across her skin.

“Very soft,” he praised in a close whisper. “And so, so warm… Are you always like this down there?” he teased.

“Y-yes?”

Sebastian smiled at her innocence and kissed her cheek again. “I believe it,” he said. “Especially with all that walking we’ve been doing lately… These darling thighs must be tense all day, rubbing against each other, no?”

The girl squirmed against his lap, a fire licking up and down her skin from that little point where three of his fingers touched her. She felt him caressing her thigh slightly inward, almost all the way to the back of her leg, his palm engulfing her for a few quiet moments, and then trailing upwards.

“Is this alright?” he asked, his voice sounding lower than before, rougher.

It reminded her that he was a man, big and rough and so much stronger than her — a man as old as her father, although that wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to know just then. She closed her eyes tightly against the uncomfortable thought.

“H-higher,” she whispered. Her legs spread wider as far as his thighs allowed.

“Higher?” he teased as he drew circles on her skin. His left arm closed around her waist in a stronger grip. “What will I find there, hmm?”

The girl dipped her head and moaned low in her throat, knowing he was playing with her. Her hands fisted in her skirt.

“Is there some secret place there?” Sebastian chuckled. His fingers went up along her thigh, where she was even warmer, even softer, and he groaned.

He could feel the muscles in her thigh flex beneath the skin. With one heavy caress, he moved his left hand from around her waist and cupped her chest. With careful tugs and encouraging her to shift a little, he eased her corset lower down her torso until he could feel her breasts slide up from beneath its grasp. She gasped and nearly jumped, but then melted in his arms with a light mewl.

He kissed her cheek again. “Shhh it’s alright.”

The girl lay docile in his arms while he carefully caressed her breast, squeezing it the slightest bit, then resting the young globe in the palm of his hand. Underneath her skirt, he teased a path all the way up until he felt a soft wet tuft. The girl whimpered, squirming against his front again, but Sebastian just rested his hands on her.

“Is this good?” he asked, peppering kisses up and down the side of her face.

“Yes,” she whispered, “I think so…”

“You think so?” he chuckled. “Well, let’s make sure, then.”

Keeping his hand still at her breast, he trailed his fingers higher up between her legs, slow and patient and searching. When his index touched her slit, she moaned.

“Oh,” he breathed lustfully, “so you do have a special place here…”

The girl curled in his arms, and Sebastian let himself slip lower down the bed, spreading his legs wider to accommodate her while not moving his hands at all, letting her feel him there.

“So wet,” he whispered as his finger began to caress her, going up and down her swollen lips. “It isn’t normal to be this wet, is it, my darling? And so, so feverish… Are you sure you’re alright?” he chuckled. “You’re certain you’re not ill, my sweetest girl?”

“No, of course not,” she said, unsure why he was even asking. She had the feeling he was joking, but she could not imagine why. This was not the time to jest, in her opinion.

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” he breathed, letting his lips rest against her cheekbone. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“N-no…”

“I guess I need to find out for myself, then.”

And then his fingers started moving. He teased her with both index and middle finger, going up and down her slit, making her more and more wet, feeling her moans right against his mouth as he rested his lips at her throat. He could feel her hole, tight and hot and flexing, and above it, her raw little nub peeking out, so hard and small... He paused there and swirled a digit around it with the lightest touch. She nearly jumped in his arms, wailing at the unfamiliar feeling.

“Is this good?” he asked against her neck, his breath frantic. “Is this good for you?”

She whined and squirmed in his arms, teasing his manhood with her bottom. It made him growl, but she probably didn’t realise what she was doing. Sebastian teased her tight bud more and then, after cupping it between three fingers, squeezed it lightly at the same time as he squeezed the tip of her breast through her shirt.

“Un— Sebastian!” she moaned.

“I told you not to call me ‘Uncle’,” he said with a hint of frustration. But he knew she didn’t mean it, probably didn’t know his fraught relationship with the word, so he sighed and kissed her cheek in apology.

“‘m sorry,” she whined, still twisting in his arms.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, kissing her cheek again. “It’s alright, just… just lay in my arms and let me take care of you.”

And as he spoke, his fingers kept teasing her between her legs and at her breast, slowly, deliberately squeezing those two sensitive points at the same time and pulling on them gently. The air was filled with her gasps and the shifting of clothes against clothes, the light squeaking of the bed, and Sebastian’s groans. He turned his head toward her, filling his lungs with the scent of her hair.

His hands on her relaxed, and he went back to holding her breast gently while sliding his fingers up and down her slit. He could feel her shivering in his arms at the change, and chuckled.

“Which do you like best?” he whispered in her ear. “Hard, or gentle?”

“Erm…”

“Tell me honestly,” he said without a hint of teasing.

“G-gentle?”

Sebastian smiled and kissed her cheek. “Gentle, then, for my girl.”

Another shiver ran through her, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn she purred.

His thick middle finger slid slowly, carefully down her folds, then held there for a moment, went up again, and down, all in a steady, predictable motion. His left hand, meanwhile, warmed her breast, holding her to him.

“How do you feel?” he asked, rubbing his stubbled cheek against hers, so smooth and soft.

She felt completely overwhelmed, covered, supported, and utterly cherished. She couldn't even begin to put into words how he made her feel. “Nervous,” the girl chuckled, her voice strained, but happy.

“Just nervous?” he smiled.

“And…”

“And what?”

She wouldn’t say.

“Do you feel cared for?” he asked, the corner of his lips brushing against her skin.

She nodded.

“Do you feel wanted?”

Another little nod.

“And needed?” he sighed, taking another lung-full of her.

The girl whimpered and dipped her face down.

Between her legs, Sebastian began to brush against her faster. His finger felt her plush lips on either side, warm and wet and innocent. He pressed deeper and felt her gasp and jump when the tip of his finger touched her hole again.

“Do you?” he asked more warmly, almost a growl. “Do you feel how much I need you?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Oh, my darling little girl,” he moaned, and his hand squeezed her breast a little tighter. Sebastian so badly wished that he could have her read his mind so that she could see how deeply his love for her ran.

His caress went further, dipping into her entrance gently, curiously, almost timidly. It coaxed a kittenish trill from her and she rubbed against his front again, his bulge slotted right between her cheeks.

“Don’t you feel that?” he moaned, pressing back against her with his stiff length. “Do you know what that is?”

“Is… is it your… male part?”

He laughed a little. “That’s quite the polite word for it. Yes, my little one.”

Sebastian rested his lips against her cheek while he pressed into her hole a bit more firmly. She gave a reedy cry when the tip of his finger pierced her.

“Oh, it burns,” she whined.

“Shhh, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered in between kisses. “You’ll see… you’ll see… I’ll show you that I care for you,” he promised.

His lips travelled her jaw, leaving wet trails down the side of it and along her neck. To distract her from the penetration, he began to flick her breast with his thumb through her shirt, and soon made that nub pucker again. Between her legs, he felt her growing wet.

“Do you trust me?” he growled. “Do you understand I want you?”

Silence.

“Not yet?” he grinned.

Sebastian slid his finger deeper. Instantly, she cried out and her back arched and he felt her squeeze around him. He felt the broken sound of her surprise shiver through her neck and into his waiting lips.

“How deep inside of you can I go?” he asked breathlessly. “How deep will you let me?”

It was a double-edged question, and they both could feel it. She knew by this point that his actions were less about giving her pleasure — even less about taking it for himself — and more about showing her that she was worthy of desire, of care and want and love.

“Deep,” she whispered, relaxing against his chest as her channel swallowed his probing finger.

“Deep, hmm?” he chuckled. “Deep and gentle, is that how my girl likes it?”

“Yes,” she moaned mindlessly.

Against his wrist, he could feel her thighs flexing. Sebastian groaned deep in his chest and slowly thrust into her, always upward, never retreating until he felt all the way to the end of her.

“So tight,” he whispered, peppering kisses on her neck again. “Tight and warm, that sickly sweet warmth of yours…”

He nibbled at her neck and squeezed her breast again, caressing it in slow but greedy motions. Inside her, his finger pressed all the way until he reached her cervix.

“Ow,” she winced, trying to move away.

“Stay still,” he said.

She did, allowing him to feel her, all of her. Her channel throbbed and pulsed around him, not knowing what to do with the intrusion. Sebastian paused in wonder at this marvellous part of her, this secret, deep, and tender place that nobody else had known before. When he felt her greedy channel relax, he began pulling out. Teasingly, he trailed his finger out and out and out of her, letting her feel it the whole way.

“It feels so cold,” he chuckled, “it’s so wet from you…”

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell that she was blushing, her cheek felt hot where it touched his temple.

“Are you ashamed of that, my sweetest one?” he asked, ending it with a lick of her neck. “Are you ashamed of how wet you are for me?”

“Don’t talk like that,” she whispered, turning her head away.

Sebastian distracted her by kneading her breast, bringing his finger back to her entrance, and circling her hot and twitching hole.

“You’re wet for me, because of me” he said again more firmly, determined to break through her shyness and shame. “You’re warm and feverish and plush in your most secret place because of me,” he hissed. “Isn’t that right?”

“Why do you want me to say it?” she groaned, twisting in his grasp.

“Because I want to know,” he said with a kiss to her clavicle, “that you know it,” and then he kissed up her neck, “and I want you to admit it to yourself,” and then he kissed her cheek, “and I want to feel how desperate you get when you say those naughty words, my darling.”

The girl bit her lip and turned her head away, her fingers digging into his arms, nails snagging against his sleeves, struggling against him — and, in a way, against herself.

He penetrated her again, this time with two fingers. To keep her from squirming away he kneaded at her breast harder, more punishingly, threatening her almost.

“Say it,” he ordered with a low murmur.

“Yes,” she gasped, her back twisted in a painful arch between his heavy paw at her breast and his thick, invading fingers. “Yes, I’m wet because of you…”

“And what else?”

She moaned, canting her hips distractedly into his thrust as his fingers opened her up.

“Are you all swollen because of me? Because of what I’m doing to you?”

“Yes…”

“Do you want me?”

“Yes…”

“You want me inside of you?” he whispered, his lips and tongue teasing the crook of her neck. “You want me here?” His fingers curled in her girlhood, pressing against that soft spot above her entrance.

She gasped and squirmed, her eyes and mouth opening in a shock of wonder.

“Here, in this tender little place?” Sebastian continued, and his fingers curled and pulled, then pressed in again slow and thick and deep. “This hidden spot? This weeping, lonely little hole?”

Her legs spread wider of their own accord and she hooked them over his knees, her arms going up and back, her fingers finding their way into his hair. She held on to him, completely dependent on him now, open and exposed and invaded.

“I want you,” he growled, pumping into her deeper, not pleasuring her spot anymore but feeling her whole channel again, forcing it to open wider, to accept him. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” she cried, although he wasn’t sure she was even listening anymore.

“Do you feel that? You feel me wanting you?” said Sebastian with a harder, fuller thrust that moved her body up his torso, before pulling her back with it. “You feel me needing you?” he asked, his length rubbing against her innocent backside.

“Sebastian —”

“Say it, I need you to say it, I need to know that you… you understand what I feel for you…”

The girl nodded, her lips parted in a breathless gasp. “Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, you need me… you want me,” she said, and he could almost hear a tearfulness in her voice.

“Good girl,” he sighed. “And do you know what else?”

She moaned and shook her head as her body trembled, caught between his thick thrusting fingers and his hard manhood pleasuring herself on her.

“I love you,” said Sebastian. His eyes were closed and his lips were at her ear. It almost scared him to admit it, but she needed to know.

“I… I love you too,” she whispered, turning her face lazily toward him.

When Sebastian opened his eyes, he saw her there, with her half-lidded, dreamy gaze, her sweaty forehead, tear-stained cheeks, and those lovely, bitten lips… His hand left her breast to hold her still by the neck and he leaned down to kiss her.

The girl moaned into his lips. The only sounds now were their delicious moans and the wetness he pulled out of her as he pumped his fingers through her gushing channel.

Sebastian was breathless when he released her, and his whole body was alight. Although he was still mostly clothed, he felt nearly at the edge just from her in his arms, her body pressing down on him. The more he tended to her core, the more of her he could smell.

“I would lick your tenderest little parts,” he breathed as he looked into her eyes, “but that might be too much for you, wouldn’t it, pet?”

She stared at him quite shocked, not knowing what to say. She couldn’t even nod in agreement.

“So why don’t you just come for me? Release for me, let go…” he whispered, stretching out his tongue to lap at her lip. “Let me feel… this little hole… ” he continued, his fingers thrusting harder into her, shaking her whole body, “convulse in pleasure around me…”

Sebastian was certain she didn’t exactly know what he was talking about, and he actually wished she didn’t. He wanted her to be innocent, he wanted to be the first for her, to teach her and train her and show her pleasure. Show her how to surrender.

He groaned when she pressed in a certain way down on his lap, and instinctively he released her neck to grip her hip, holding her still for his use. His two fingers, thick and dripping wet with her, dug as deep inside her as he could and held there as he put all of his efforts into pressing up against her, rubbing himself against her bottom. He moaned shamelessly with each delicious thrust. His sounds were deep and lustful and embarrassingly revealing of how savagely he wished to take her, but the scared look in her eyes centred him.

Sebastian kissed her again then leaned back to look at her face as he used her, imagined himself taking her, feeling her wetness soak his shaft, feeling her weak little body parting for him, having no choice but to surrender and open and take him inside where he could spill —

“I… I love you,” he gasped, pleading with her almost, needing her to understand it and accept it. “I love you…”

“Seb—”

He frowned and closed her lips with a kiss, and then he felt his shaft twitch as it spilt its seed. It was a messy and distorted kiss, more of a moan and a cry and a crushing of lips, but for a moment it felt perfect. Her body relaxed above him, her fingers caressing his hair and his neck, her girlhood clenching around his fingers, suckling on them.

Sebastian breathed in deeply then released her mouth. He grinned lazily and leaned back to look at her. There was a sticky and disgusting feeling at his loins, but that didn’t matter now. Slowly, his fingers resumed their thrust.

She gasped and tensed in surprise, but soon eased and moaned more openly, her head tilted back exposing her neck, her chest arching against her shirt. Sebastian thrust deeper, those two thick fingers keeping her spread. He pulled the wetness out of her with each outward thrust and let it make her thighs and bottom slick.

“How long have you wanted me?” he asked in a teasing whisper at her ear. Now that he had warmed her up, he felt sure he would get the answer out of her.

“Wh-what?!”

He chuckled, pumping his fingers faster. “How long?”

“Since… since the fifth-year summer break,” she admitted, speaking in so small a voice he would not have heard if he were further away.

“So since you were fifteen!?”

Sebastian was a little scandalised. He pictured taking advantage of her at that age and recoiled inwardly. But at the same time, he didn't wish to make her feel ashamed. After all, she couldn't help her feelings, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit flattered. So he fought against how taboo it was, and chuckled.

“How naughty my little girl is,” he purred, nibbling at her ear.

“I’m sorry,” she groaned, turning her blushing face away from him.

“You should be,” he said, half-teasing. “I only ever wanted to take care of you, do you know that? I wished… I wished I could take you away sometimes. Just to have you for my own. To love you freely.”

She was nearly breathless with the revelation and turned to look up at him. His trusts between her legs gentled as he confessed his more innocent feelings to her, and she had no idea what to make of it.

“Did you really?” she asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” he smiled, “but not like this. Not as…”

“As lovers?”

“Yes, not like that. Just, as your friend or… anything.”

It was awkward for Sebastian to show this side of himself. It didn’t go well with what he was — an older man twice her age, slightly rough around the edges, involved with dark magic and seedy figures and things she shouldn’t know about. And she was so sweet and delicate, so fragile in his arms… But it was true, all he wanted was to love her, protect her, take care of her, in whatever capacity she allowed him.

Sebastian leaned down and kissed her forehead, his fingers stilling inside her for a moment. No sooner he parted from her skin that she leaned up and kissed his lips — clumsily, reaching mostly just the corner of his mouth.

“I want you,” she said as she looked into his eyes. “I… I wish you could take me away, forever.”

“But you know I can’t,” sighed Sebastian, and his fingers began to cant back and forth inside her, making her feel his despair and desire and longing to be with her as deeply as possible.

“I know… But I’ve dreamed of it,” she whispered. “So many nights… when I thought about you.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened and he listened to her, his lips parted in a stilted gasp. He wasn’t sure he should know more, he was afraid of what he would hear, but a part of him was greedy to know everything that this darling girl thought about.

“Did you?” he asked lowly, and he started a deliberate, deep rhythm that trailed her channel up and down. Her plump folds kissed his knuckles when he thrust all the way inside.

“Yes,” she said in a high, weak voice.

He smiled. He loved the way she got so breathless when he pleasured her. “Did you touch yourself?”

“I did…”

“Did you touch yourself thinking of me?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“Like this?”

“Please,” she sobbed, her heart trembling in her chest as his fingers dragged themselves out of her. “Pleasepleaseplease…”

Sebastian licked his lips and looked down at her. Her arms were limp around his head and her eyes were closed. He drank in the sight of her weak and surrendered, and then he gave her what she wanted. He put his fingers back to her girlhood, trailing the slippery digits up and down her slit.

“You pleasured your special place?” he teased, grinning against her blushing cheek while his fingers dragged her slick up to her tender nub. “Alone, at night, while you thought of me…?”

She mewled and bowed her head, regretting somewhat that she had even admitted it to him, because now he used it to torture her — but his fingers felt so good, working her so precisely to feverish pleasure.

“Yes yes yes, please,” she mewled.

His chest purred beneath hers while his fingers strummed her pearl, tending to her most sensitive point relentlessly, diligently.

“Will you show me how you sounded when you reached your peak?” he whispered. “Will you spill for me here as you did around your pretty little fingers?”

“Please, Sebastian,” she cried, and her voice began to sound a little panicked. “It… it’s too much…”

In response, he held her down, his left arm stiff around her waist while with his right he abused her girlhood in short, aggressive rubs. He could feel her nub becoming stiffer, its raw head peeking out. With each downward thrust, he picked up a little bit more slick that leaked from her and brought it up to wet her pearl.

“It’s not too much, you can take it,” he whispered. “Doing so well for me, letting me love you like this… Letting me show how much I love you…”

“I can’t, I can’t,” she rambled.

Her legs started to tremble against his, her hips canting up and down, spreading the wetness that he’d spilt around himself in his soiled trousers. Sebastian groaned at the delicious, savage feeling of it all.

“I can feel you leaking out of your little hole,” he said with a dreamy voice. “Is that how you’d drip around me if I kissed you there? Is it? Is it how you’d gush around my manhood if I gave it to you?”

“Yes,” she mumbled, her head twisting back and forth, her hair a ruffled mess against his pillow, over his shoulder, sticking to his cheek. “Yes yes yes, I want, I want…”

“I’ll give you what you want, my girl,” he growled, holding her down and playing with her nub. “My good little girl, sweet, wet, dirty little girl…”

And her whole body began to tremble, starting with her legs, her stomach, her hands clasping desperately at the pillow. She let out a scream before she caught herself and bit it back. He reached down and kissed her mouth, swallowing it from her. Sebastian held her to him, barely letting her move while she squirmed with the shock of her powerful orgasm.

“Se— Sebastian! Aaah… Aaahh!”

Her core clenched and throbbed, hungry and empty and desperate for something that never came inside. Right above it, his fingers kept tending to her pearl, flicking it until it nearly drove her mad.

The girl mewled into his mouth, pleading with him to stop but in a thoroughly unconvincing manner.

“You like that?” Sebastian asked against her lips as his caresses slowed to steady, long, torturous strokes. “Hmm? Was that good?” he asked with a kiss.

“Mmm… yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her body relaxed, limp and sapless in his arms. Only faint twitches travelled up her legs anymore, but she spread them wider for him as he kept tenderly caressing her girlhood.

“Yes?” he grinned. “My naughty little girl liked it?”

“I did,” she said in the smallest, shyest whisper, her eyes cast down toward his lips.

He understood what she wanted, and leaned forward to kiss her again. The room around them fell silent now that her frantic breaths and moans abated. All that was left were the lewd, slopping sounds as he kept fingering her.

“Good little girl,” he sighed against her mouth. “Gone all soft now that you’ve been pleasured, haven’t you?”

She blushed and nodded, the tip of her nose brushing against his. Sebastian chuckled and leaned in to kiss her again, and again, and again. Slowly, he stilled his fingers, but kept them there, cupping her secret place, letting her seep lazily into his palm.

“How do you feel?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Good,” she murmured, a similar smile playing on her lips too. Her eyes were low and sleepy, but held his gaze.

Sebastian chuckled and disentangled his arm from around her waist, bringing it up to brush her messy hair away, caress her face, and pet her lovely cheek. Her legs dipped back from around his and closed around his wrist, hugging his hand to her centre.

“And did you like what I did to you?”

She bit back a wince and nodded again. Sebastian’s eyes crinkled with a smile and he dipped down to her mouth, tasting her in a long and languid caress.

“Give me your hand,” he said, “the left one,” and waited for her to comply.

She stretched out her left arm and watched curiously as he grinned and kissed the bracelet there. It was, in its own way, more like a mark of belonging, of his commitment to her — like an engagement ring.

“You were beautiful,” he said as her hand came down to brush against his face, “and sweet, and adorable, and the most enticing little witch I’ve ever seen.”

The girl squirmed in his lap, smiling awkwardly, but there was nowhere for her to go even if she had the strength to do it. He cupped her in his hands and held her to him.

“Well, I hope so,” she said with a small voice, looking between his lips and his eyes.

“You deserve to be loved. I hope you understand that now, at least a little bit better…”

Did she? She wasn’t sure. Held in Sebastian’s strong steady arms, against his broad chest, she knew she felt at home, and safe, and cared for, but love came with a little difficulty… How could he be satisfied with her?

“I know I am most inadequate —” she started.

“No,” he shook his head, “you are not. You deserve to be loved, and I wish to be the one to do it.”

She looked into his eyes again, quietly reading every emotion that flashed through there, every hint of vulnerability, of devotion, and found them all reflected in her too. Her hands finally found the strength to reach up again and tangle loosely in his hair.

“Alright,” she whispered, leaning up to breathe against his lips. “If you’ll love me, I’ll love you,” she said, kissing him gently on the mouth. “In fact, as you well know, I already do…”

Sebastian chuckled and held her closer, rocking her gently on his chest. Slowly, his hand slid away from her core, allowing her to close her legs, and his to close around her. Entangled in each other, they forgot about their messy clothes, their ruffled hair, and knew only of how much they liked each other’s closeness.

They spoke in sweet hushed whispers about what they planned to do, how they intended to live together, to accomplish it against all odds. Slowly, Sebastian forgot about his plan to only show her these safe, distant forms of love — with fingers and close embraces and perhaps eventually with his mouth, acts that left no lingering mark on her and had no chance of spoiling her honour. No, after this evening, could see himself taking her away, even marrying her, building a life with her… And as he gazed into her eyes throughout the evening, all the while until they fell asleep, he hoped she pictured the same future too.

[zirawrites]

How do you think the fallout 4 companions would react to having traveled with sole for a few months and sole only referring to them as "pal, buddy, bro etc." and then finally braking down and telling them they can't for the life of them remember their name, but they were just too embarrassed to ask again

Cait: “It’s literally one syllable, Sole!” Cait’s face flushed when Sole just shrugged. “I’m your only companion with such a short name.” Then Sole reminded her of Danse and Nick, and Cait swung a punch that Sole barely dodged.

Codsworth: “The effects of cryostasis must still be affecting your long-term memory.” Codsworth rattled chipperly and blinked in the endearing way he always did when he wanted to mimic smiling. “Not to worry, sir/mum! I’m Codsworth; your faithful Mr. Handy from General Atomic’s finest!” He literally couldn’t fathom Sole actually not remembering him.

Curie: “I do not mean to offend, but I think I rather you have kept that to yourself.” Curie shook her head in pity. “That is embarrassing, Sole. I hope you feel very awkward right now.” Even though Curie was only partly-teasing, she still insisted Sole take extra vitamins to keep up their mental fortitude.

Danse: “I call you soldier out of respect,” Danse said, his mouth stretched in a long frown. “You do it because you don’t know what else to call me. How long were you going to keep up the charade?” Sole admitted they hoped until another Brotherhood soldier said his name, but everyone just seemed to call him Paladin.

Deacon: “If it makes you feel better, Deacon isn’t actually my real name. I tell raw recruits my codename is to safeguard my identity, but really it’s because my real name is... embarrassing.” Deacon’s blush seemed genuine, and he scratched the back of his neck until Sole finally asked what his name was. “Funnily enough, I’m Sole, too!” He giggled like a kid until Sole gave him a playful shove.

Hancock: “I don’t remember my name half the time anyways.” Hancock seemed completely unbothered by this revelation. It was nearly impossible to offend him. “You can start calling me Hancock, or The Best Damn Mayor in the Commonwealth.” Then Hancock tried to pronounce the last nickname as an acronym, and both of them laughed it off.

MacCready: “You’re kidding.” MacCready searched Sole’s face for hints of a prank. When it was evident Sole was telling the truth, his ears burned red. “We’ve been traveling together for, like, months! You don’t even know the name of the merc you hired? Next time we’re in Sanctuary I’m having Curie look at your head.”

Preston: “Oh, um. I’m Preston.” Preston absolutely internalized this as being so forgettable that Sole couldn’t even remember the first human they came into contact with after leaving the vault. Ouch.

Piper: “Need me to come up with a color for myself? It seems to be the only rudimentary thing you can remember, Blue.” Piper then only referred to herself as Red, which only made Sole feel worse.

Nick: “Sole, you come by my office almost every day.” Nick rubbed his face in sheer defeat. “Did the sign out front never jog your memory?” Sole admitted they thought Nick was just a hopeless romantic, and Nick threw a wad of paper at their head.

X6-88: “It has a lot of numbers. I completely understand, sir/ma’am.” X6 wasn’t offended. In truth, he literally did not care.

[lady-margaret]

bridgerton season 3 part 1 opinion (as someone who has read all the books + is kathony biased so be warned)

after sitting and stewing on what i just watched for a few hours

i’d like to start this off by saying that due to my disappointment of the writing from the last season, i was way more gracious with this one. kate and anthony were great because of simone and jonathan; i’m not sure the writers had much to do with that.

anyway, what i’m saying is that i already knew not to expect the writers to be faithful to the source material (romancing mr. bridgerton), so i was able to enjoy myself more. additionally, polin’s book isn’t exactly a favorite of mine anyway, so there wasn’t a lot to be too disappointed with in my case.

what i liked:

penelope’s wardrobe; they hyped up the “transformation” so much and i’m glad it did not disappoint.

colin’s hot 😌

eloise’ wardrobe; someone pointed out that it had a lot of philip references, so yay 😀 (it has me worried that it’ll be her story next though, we need ben first)

eloise interacting with the other ladies of the ton was really cute and refreshing; she’s learning that despite them having different interests than her, they are still people of great value. the difference is eloise was raised in a loving and supportive family, unlike most of the others.

sibling’s g&h’s personalities coming through more (they are anthony’s children, truly).

featherington sisters as comic relief.

MARRIED KATHONY CRUMBS 💕💕💕 they carried episode 1 for me.

FRANCESCA 💕💕💕 gorgeous introvert representation.

FRANNY AND JOHN 💕💕💕 (i am both ready and NOT ready to get hurt 🥹)

book references (yay! the bare minimum!)

lord debling’s dope.

i actually do like that they gave cressida a legitimate reason to want to win the competition money to unmask LW in the second part.

the music choices haven’t disappointed yet!!!!!

colin’s line for the season is def the “well are you gonna marry me or not?” line HEHEHEHEHE i ALMOST screamed as loud as i did when john entered when he said that line to pen.

as an army, plus points for dynamite 🤭 i didn’t expect to like the orchestral version and didn’t see the vision of where they would even insert it, but i actually liveddd for it.

what i don’t really have strong feelings about:

mondrich plot; alice is beautiful but the addition of their family storyline didn’t make much of a lasting impact.

the queen; she was very meh so far.

the featherington storyline: the sisters are funny, but their whole situation mixed with the humor leads me not to take it very seriously.

violet x lady danbury’s brother: 🤷‍♀️ i don’t see it.

the “lady danbury’s brother” storyline in general is very forgettable.

what i disliked:

i think nicola and luke could use more chemistry; they fall short compared to daphne&simon and kathony (HEAVY ON KATHONY THIS IS WHY THEY REMOVED THEM FROM THE REST OF THE EPISODES SIGH)

they kinda mischaracterized colin (he spent the last two seasons being selfish and putting himself above everyone else violet, what the hell are you talking about “you never place yourself over others” 🤨)

the lack of ben time?? did he go back to the academy after taking over for anthony briefly??? what did he do besides dodging debutantes all season????

they glossed over benedict running the estate so quickly; this could have been an opportunity to draw out his storyline, especially since he mentioned that he liked having a purpose: WRITERS???? DO SOMETHING WITH THAT!

i also didn’t really care for the ben x tilly arnold plot; unless sophie’s actually a maid of her’s or something, i don’t see her point in the show besides just be another one of ben’s ever changing girl of the season.

im sorry but eloise would never SHOULD NEVER have befriended her (ex?) best friend’s bully, no matter what the circumstances. that is NOT eloise.

honestly, them revealing whistledown in the first season is really screwing with the writing; in this regard, i wish they stayed more faithful to the book and how colin finds out about LW. it all just seems so messy at this point.

so s3 starts when kathony end their honeymoon… how long was this honeymoon? math isn’t mathing cuz it couldn’t have been more than a week given that kate isn’t obviously pregnant yet in the first ep.

i know that colin and pen are longtime friends, but from how they’ve interacted with each other in the past seasons, it’s a bit harder to believe that they were close CLOSE friends; close friends to the extent of helping the other find a spouse through “lessons”? i don’t see it. that’s why i was a bit ??? when i first found out about the plot they were going with for the season (in the book, colin really just starts following her around cuz she was being sus)

i hate that they had to come up with an excuse to get rid of kathony for the rest of the episodes; i get that they’ve been running their separate households alone for most of their lives and want a break but… i don’t think they would abandon their responsibilities for an “extended honeymoon”. knowing them, running the estate isn’t gonna stop them from being wh0res!! they help each other out with the estate and are still sickeningly in love and have time for each other (in the books). i was also really hoping to see kate taking over the viscountess role. i swore they would have done something like that after that cute/awkward moment when they both respond to “lady bridgerton” in episode 1.

i get that it’s established that penelope’s one goal for the season is to get a husband, but as i know her character, she would NEVER get into races (?) or run just so she can talk to a suitor before anyone else does 😭 okay but it was funny.

i am kinda sad that they couldn’t have just let a mean character or a villain character be the villain character; yea sure, i did say that i liked that cressida had a legitimate and well thought out motive for wanting the LW reward money but, idk i could’ve lived without her storyline.

one of the BIGGEST THINGS for me is that i do not think they should have released so many clips/snippets of the show days or weeks before it came out. i understand like 1 clip, but i skipped SO MANY SCENES because i have watched them at least 5 times already on tiktok or twitter.

the two part season idea is dumb.

i’m scared for how messy part 2 will be (in terms of both writing and just how stressed i will be with the revealing of LW plot HUHU poor pen) but i’m still looking forward to it 😇😇😇 and despite all the things i didn’t like, i did still enjoy it. if i do rewatch it or not is still to be decided; s1 & s2 have such high rewatch value.

franny and john were TRULY a standout though. i cannot even begin to describe how loud i screamed when he finally said his name out loud 😭💕

verdict: the writing is getting messier, get jonathan bailey in that writer’s room ASAP

[wolfawaycamp]

Alternate Truth or Dare "Truth" scene, because Emma's question in-game was super boring. She could've come up with something shippy for that, surely.

🐼 I had a million different ideas for this and maybe I'll write them out someday, but for the sake of brevity, here is (1) slightly shippier version of Emma Mountebank's infamously boring 'truth' question! Thanks for the ask :)

The warm smoke of the campfire mixed with the earthy scent wafting off of Lake Septimus’ surface makes for a nice, comfortable atmosphere for the Hacketteers’ last hurrah around the firepit.

Ryan can appreciate the sentimentality of it, as he had built up a nice camaraderie with these (mostly) strangers, but of course Dylan had to be Dylan and throw a Truth-or-Dare-shaped wrench into things. Ryan’s already nervous enough, what with Chris freaking out and demanding they stay in the lodge with all of the escapes locked as if there’s some wild animal on the loose.

To Ryan, the only thing worse than being attacked by a savage bear or feral hog is exactly what Emma is doing to him right now: putting him on the spot. “Ryan — truth or dare?”

He weighs his options.

Truth — knowing Emma, she's probably going to ask something nosy like "What were you and Chris talking about in his office?" which is annoying but ultimately uninteresting. Easy, painless, and forgettable.

Dare — she's going to make him kiss someone. Sure, he could be a killjoy and say no, but he's already on thin ice with this crowd and he's not so much of an asshole that he's going to ruin everyone's fun by refusing a dare. Besides, he knows it's either going to be Dylan or Kaitlyn. He can handle that. They're both attractive, and they both clearly have a crush on him. But what if she makes you choose? nags a voice in the back of his mind, and that gives him pause. Because — because if he's forced to make a choice, people are going to make assumptions and tease him and Dylan — or Kaitlyn — mercilessly about it for the rest of the night. Truly a fate worse than death.

He goes with the safe option. "Truth. I'm an open book."

"Okay, okay. Let's get right down to it." Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"Let's do." Ryan makes his best attempt to match her energy. He’s sure he looks as terrified as a first-time camper during opening week.

"What were you and Dylan doing when you two snuck away from Mandatory Movie Night last month?"

Fuck. That wasn’t part of the script.

"You left the lodge after Mr. H told you not to? What a little rebel!" Abi blurts out in mock surprise.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "No, we...we went upstairs. Wanted to get away from the kids. Nothing really happened. We just talked."

Somehow, he’s forgotten that the other person in question is sitting six feet away from him, ready to call him out on his bullshit. "C'mon, tell them the rest of it,” Dylan encourages, taking another sip of his beer.

Betrayal. Ryan really was an idiot to think he’d get out of this one so easily. "Whose side are you on, man?"

"Well, obviously, as the one who's laying down the law here, I'm on the side of the truth!" Dylan responds matter-of-factly.

Emma, who’d been watching the exchange and quietly enjoying the drama, leans in. "What are you hiding from us, you mysterious bad boy?”

I’m really not beating the ‘brooding loner’ allegations, am I? "First off, never say that again." Everyone is staring at him in anticipation, except Dylan, who’s looking away and visibly trying (and failing) to maintain his poker face while reveling in Ryan’s discomfort.

Ryan sighs. "We also…might have found some vodka and drank it. But we were just drinking and chilling like we are right now. Nothing to write home about."

“Vodka and chill, huh?” Jacob waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” Ryan responds, trying to sound as unbothered as possible. Unless you count Dylan acting serious for more than ten seconds as ‘chill.’ 

In all honesty, they didn’t do anything crazy. They'd started that night sharing childhood camp stories, and it had eventually turned into deep discussions about their fears, their dreams, and their plans for the future after camp, but the other counselors don’t need to know every detail. Ryan had seen Dylan in a different light since that night and they’d grown closer from it. That moment is special, and Ryan intends to keep at least some things between himself and Dylan.

Nick takes a break from basking in the warmth of the campfire to speak up. "Ugh. Boring!”

"On the contrary. My curiosity's been satisfied." Emma is staring at Ryan with an unnerving grin plastered onto her face. In the firelight, she almost looks like a demon. “Thank you for sharing.”

Jacob isn't having it. "No way. That can't really be it. Dylan?"

Ryan shoots Dylan a look that hopefully screams “save me.” Dylan obliges. "No, no, I'd say he's off the hook. That’s all she wrote. Scout's honor." He holds up his hand and crosses his fingers.

"Doesn't that mean you're lying?" Jacob presses.

Kaitlyn responds to Jacob’s comment with derision, "No, dumbass, that's only if he does it behind his back where we can't see it. Duh." Ryan stays silent, letting the two bicker amongst themselves. At least they’re not all still staring at him with those creepy fucking smiles.

"Children! Settle down!" Right on cue, Emma turns everyone’s attention back to their favorite social punching bag. Well, second favorite to Jacob. "Your turn, Ryan." She’s still grinning. She genuinely looks pleased. It wasn’t just some juicy gossip she wanted from Ryan; her goal was to make him uncomfortable, and he played right into her trap perfectly.

Scanning the rest of the group, he sure does feel the discomfort; half of the counselors are giving him and Dylan knowing glances, while the other half look deeply disappointed with his answer. Well, too bad. He’ll let them speculate.

Ryan finds his victim. “Kaitlyn. What d’ya say — truth or dare?”

As she ponders the question, his eyes catch Dylan’s and he can’t help but wonder what would have happened had he chosen ‘dare.’ 

[danthepillerman]

Meeting Star Platinum☆

Jotaro x reader ♡

Your first time meeting Starts Platinum wasn't... forgettable to say the least.

Taking time outta your busy day was now a daily thing for you, getting out of classes a bit earlier then the rest to sneak out of school and ditch the rest of the day with jotaro, then after going back to his place for a bit or to yours to study. Either you followed his lead or he followed yours. You both trusted eachother enough to walk aimlessly behind the other. So that how this day started.

Walking out of class a few minutes early then sneaking past the security guard thats way to dedicated to his job was the easiest part about this whole meeting plan you both do. The hardest part being the aftermath of it all, for you at least. Jotaro couldn't care less about what happens in class while he's gone, he did leave for a while 50 days two years ago. He told you snippets about his trip and how he now hates Egypt. You two met two years after you transfered from your old school. Your old school was more chaotic then the one you're at now, leaving that school was easy because there was no body who would've cared.

Being the quiet smart kid people would pick on for fun was tough but at least you now have a chunk of muscle as your closest friend. Hating the fact you ditch classes just to spend time with him was unusual and made you want to itch at your skin till it all was gone, but you didn't mind either. You enjoyed any moment with him. Still sucks you won't know some things on the test next week but heyyyy who cares right? Making your way to the gate you both meet at you see a tall figure, and smoke coming from it's mouth. Jotaro. He turned his head and looked at you dead in the eyes, your body shivered anytime he just stared at you. "Hey Jotaro" you spoke out softly, getting closer to him. He looked down at you and took his cigarette out his mouth smushing it onto the wall behind him then flicking it into the trash can next to him "hey."

It was hard to read what this man was thinking, looking into his eyes for a bit to see what he's feeling, you gained this habit as a kid. Looking at someone's eyes can say a lot or very little. For jotaro...it was very little to understand what he felt or what he was thinking. "Follow." His tone was strict and demanding as most times he'd ask you to follow him, he walked fast because his legs were longer than yours but hed take smaller steps so you can walk either behind him or right next to him. Rambling about something that came to mind or your childhood favorites wasnt rare, you thought he didn't listen to you but he pays very close attention to whatever you say to him.

His heart was racing with what he was going to tell you, although most people think seeing stands for non-stand users is impossible it really isn't, the SWF found a way to show non-users stands. Which is how some of the workers have seen stands. Just so happens Mr joestar was giving a pair of the special goggles they use and gave them to jotaro, they are more like dad shades then goggles but they still call them goggles anyway. When jotaro found out about them he was over the moon, may not have shown it but he was, he's been wanting to show you star platinum so you didn't think he was crazy when he talked about it.

"so tell me, where you takin me today?" His train of thought was interrupted by your voice. "some random ass waterfall I found back at the park we went to last week. I went over there a little after we did and started searching the forest next to it, found a pretty sick waterfall." He pulled hit hat down and turned away. It wasn't just the waterfall he wanted to show you, obviously, but it wasn't star platinum either. What he really wanted outta all of this is to the see look on your face when he shows waterfall. He can picture it now, your face lighting up with joy, your eyes sparkling as the water does, your smile bigger then ever, a slight hint of blush of your face.

"here grab my hand this part is tricky" He said putting his hand out to you as you both tried getting over some rocks, in doing so getting close to the waterfall and whatever he wanted to show and tell you. The sky clear of clouds and the wind blowing just soft enough to tickle exposed skin. You can't help but feel as if you're about to be proposed to or confessed to, look at it from a side point; nerdy-ish girl and the delinquent boy go to a waterfall after ditching classes, are BEST FRIENDS and the day is beautiful. That's my story animation right there if I haven't seen it. You knew it wasn't the case though, jotaro never showed any signs of having romantic feelings for you, hurt to admit but you can't live in denial for long.

"alright we're here." He said pulling you onto the concrete. Just as he imagined your face light up light a torch. The waterfall had ingrown plants everywhere, there wasn't any graffiti on it and it looked old, it had beautiful flowers growing from the cracks and vines all around. "wow.." your smile was so big it was starting to hurt a little but you couldn't stop now. Why should you when you're this happy? Jotaro loved seeing you like this. A subtile smile tugging at his lips couldn't be help. He wanted to say how he felt so bad, he wanted to tell you that he loved you, he wanted to scream it from the top of his lungs how me wanted to marry you one day, he wanted to kiss you and laugh with you. His heart aches for you but he had to hold back just a bit longer, first you meet star then maybe if he still has the balls he'll tell you how he feels.

Time went by as you two sat down and just talked for a bit, the subject finally came up. Stands. "So tell me about your star platinum, how does he look? How strong is he? Is he nice or mean???" You bombarded him with questions. "How about I just show you him?" He ask you, rising a brow and turn your head in confusion as to how, as if he read your mind he pulled out some goggles and handed you them. "with these you'll be able to see stands, the people from the speed wagon foundation use them cause some aren't stand users so they invented tech to help them out with us" you put them on and smiled up at him. "Do I look good?" You winked at did finger guns "no you look awful" he chuckled lightly.

"alright. I'ma bring him out 'kay?" He spoke softer then usual. Nodding your head quickly excited to see his stand for the first time. You saw a purple figure slowly rise from jotaro's body, and them as if nothing it was there. There he was for the first time ever for you, Star Platinum. His hair defined the laws of gravity and floated in the air, his skin was purple with a few lines of gold that flowed in squiggles. He wore shoulder pads that looked his armor and a head band type thing his his hair, he was stunning. "holy fuck." Was all you could say. Jotaro chuckled at your response. "He's also pretty strong" before your could say a word you were in star platinums arms, he through you up and cought you like nothing. A mix of screams and laughs escaped you as this happened, jotaro over joyed with how you took it.

Star platinum set you down and retreated back into jotaro's body, "your goggles back good sir" you said handing them back as if you were some sort of knight to the king. "Why thank you my loyal knight" it was rare that he went along with your sarcasm or little things like this, but you loved it when he did. A smile still on both your faces, you semi out of breath, him with a flushed face it was nice to just be here with him like this.

It felt like time slowed as the two of you stood together, he looked at you with soft caring eyes and a warm but small smile. You looked at him with the kid of look only explained like a lover who's finally gotten to see the love of their life after years of not getting to. He wanted to blurt out he loved you, and so did you. It's like you two spoke to eachother without saying a thing. You knew after all this time of not knowing how he felt about you, you knew he loved you. Both of you feeling the connection and spark lighting up with every last once if your beings. He wanted to say I love you so bad but it was to soon, way to soon. So he smiled a little more and rested his hand on top of your head, he didn't want you so see him so this was second best. He would've pulled down his hat but that's to obvious.

"Y/n, I feel like it's pretty clear what I'm..." He stopped to rephrase himself. He hated words at this moment in time. "Y/n, would you like to go on some sort of date with me?" He could feel your body heat up just with his hand on your head. "yea..why not" he knew you wanted to scream yes but he's taking what he's getting. No complaints.

He removed his hand from your head and looked at you for a few seconds. "Let's go back to my place, it's a Friday so if you want you can stay the night or something. Maybe Saturday or Sunday we can do that date thing" he grabbed your hand gently and walked off. "Already holding my hand aye??" You said with a teasing tone "I'm just trying to help you get across don't get the wrong idea." You laughed lightly and started talking about some field trip you went to when you were a kid and how you hated your 6th and 8th grade teacher. He didn't say a single thing once to stop your rant.

[pretzelstickrockets]

Today you're getting trivia dump on the musical The Drowsy Chaperone because I saw it last night and it's immediately become one of my dream shows (with the dream role of Man in Chair of course- look as a theatre kid who can't sing of course I'm going to latch onto a monologue-heavy character).

Let's begin!

The musical originated as an entertainment piece for the bachelor party of real life couple Bob (Robert) Martin (Canadian writer and actor) and Janet van de Graaf (Canadian improv and television artist). It was performed at the Rivoli Night Club and the admission costs were used to help fund their wedding

The original show did not have the role of the Man in Chair!

Despite having less than stellar reviews (notably being called a "sleeper" and having "forgettable" songs by critic Ben Brantly), TDC recieved thirteen Tony nominations and won five (Book, Original Score, Featured Actress, Scenic Design, and Costume Design)

The first translated version of the show opened in Japan (January 5th, 2009)

In the original Broadway production, during the Man in Chair's "intermission monologue", there's an added line about the Morosco theatre being torn down and a hotel being put in it's place. This line is a reference to the Marquis Theater (where the run took place) being part of the Marriott Marquis complex which was built where the Morosco Theater once stood.

The use of a deus ex machina in the form of Trix's plane at the end of the second act is one of the most literal version of the trope. The history of the term comes from ancient Greek performances, where, in resolution to conflicts, the Greek gods would appear in the show, often being delivered to the stage via a crane. So, the appearance of a character who can resolve the unsettled issue via a device from the sky is a fitting homage to the trope.

The Drowsy Chaperone is qualified as both a parody and a pastiche. If you didn't know what a pastiche means (aka me about five minutes ago), a parody mocks aspects while a pastiche celebrates aspects. Some examples of other pastiches are Rosencrantz and Gildenstern are Dead (for Hamlet) and The Second Mrs Darcy (Pride and Prejudice).

The song Love is Always Lovely in the End replaced a song in the original production titled I Remember Love

In many productions, the animal Robert is compared to in Bride's Lament is changed from a monkey to a bunny to avoid racist undertones.

Aldopho says his name 15 times in the song I am Aldopho (the chaperone says it four times)

Whilst on Broadway, TDC had 32 previews and 674 performances before it closed in 2007.

Robert and George's tap dance before Underling's entrance in Cold Feet is approximately 1 minutes and 32 seconds long.

The longest song on the cast recording is Bride's Lament at 5:13, whilst the shortest (excluding Man in Chair's actor backgrounds) is the Act 1 Finale with 47 seconds.

[zot3-flopped]

The fascinating emptiness of one Mr. Louis Tomlinson

Simone De Aurevoir

Feb 20, 2024

Four months ago I went to a concert. The exact city, venue and date doesn’t matter, and you will understand why it doesn’t matter in just a moment. The concert in question was given by Louis Tomlinson, a former member of One Direction, and what I experienced that night was so odd, so puzzling, so fascinating, that I couldn’t help but write it down. Allow me to explain.

The concert took place on a Tuesday evening. It is part of his Faith in the Future tour, and I was accompanying a close friend who is a huge “Louie”, as his fans are called. (Despite the difference in spelling, the man’s name and his fandom are actually pronounced the same way.) I joined her mostly out of solidarity and a little bit out of morbid curiosity. She had previously given me only small glimpses into the Louis Tomlinson fandom, and as a pop culture enthusiast, naturally I was intrigued by this window into an obscure cultural bubble. I remember thinking, “It might be interesting to see what she’s so obsessed with”.

Her first act of initiation had been to take me to see All of Those Voices, the documentary movie about Louis Tomlinson‘s life after One Direction, which depicted his chain smoking Northern English charm, his image of the humble underdog, and the unexpected upwards trajectory of his career over the last five years. It had also instilled in me a vague sense of fear of the fandom. Then again, the intensity of the Gospel is always off putting to atheists, so I thought nothing more of it.

Knowing that football/soccer games dictate which colors to wear and which to avoid, I had half-jokingly asked my friend about taboo colors the day before, not really expecting an answer. Immediately, she texts back — “Don’t wear green, and avoid any obvious combinations of blue and green.” If you’re feeling a sense of foreboding right now, that’s the right instinct.

On the night of the concert, we arrive at the 15,000 seat arena in the brisk evening air. To my surprise, the concrete vestibule is almost empty, save for the small crowd clustering around a merch stand. “They’re all already inside”, my friend explains confidently. We enter through the main entrance into the stuffy warmth of the lobby, through security, past another overcrowded merch stand, and through the soundproofed swinging doors into the main concert hall.

I suddenly feel very small as I enter this gigantic darkened arena space, where the air is even warmer, and buzzing with excitement. Indeed, everybody else is already here. The show won’t actually start for an hour, but the arena is already fully packed. We squeeze past a long row of excited faces to get to our seats, where the local chapter of Louis’s fan club has deposited some items for audience interaction: a blank white sheet of paper and a little snippet of red transparent tracing paper, both with instructions for how and when to hold them up.

While we’re settling in, the second of the two opening bands is already playing — a forgettable mess of clichés from Northern England. “As a white indie boy, Louis tours exclusively with other white indie boys”, my friend remarks with cheeky self awareness. While the clichés are playing, we look around the sold out arena. The two of us are only a little bit younger than Louis himself, which makes us some of the oldest people in the venue (not counting the occasional parental custodians who accompany their teen children).



Fans camping out for a spot in the first row for Louis’s show in Glasgow, 2022. Photograph by Steve Welsh

To me, it looks like we’re just two old pieces of driftwood in a sea of teeth in braces, puffy cheeks and pigtail buns, but my friend explains to me what I’m really seeing. “See that guy over there? That shirt is a Doncaster Jersey with Louis’s team number.” Or: “This girl in front of us? That’s a handmade replica of a t-shirt Louis wore on tour in 2016.” Already, I am amazed at the depth of not just her knowledge, but everybody’s knowledge of the history of this Louis Tomlinson. And then, to my delight, we actually see the forbidden combo: a girl wearing two glow-in-the-dark bracelets next to each other; one blue, one green.

It’s at this point that I finally get an explanation of the meaning behind the colors: Back when the band was still active, all five members of One Direction had a color assigned to them, based on their mic colors at live shows. Harry Styles was green, Zayn Malik was yellow, Liam Payne was red, Louis Tomlinson was blue, and Niall Horan was white. Therefore, wearing blue would symbolize fandom of Louis; wearing, say, red would be an indicator of favoring Liam, and green would symbolize fandom of Harry Styles. And wearing blue and green together would… well, we’ll get to that in a moment.

Since this is Louis’s concert, you might think that the audience would be a sea of exclusively blue clothing, but there is actually a notable amount of rainbow accessories — capes, earrings, fans, etc. — that make for an overall colorful impression.

I wonder out loud how it is possible that somebody who was big with teenagers in the early 2010s has so many teenage fans in 2023. After all, when I was a teenager myself in the late 2000s, it would have seemed unspeakably ridiculous if I had stanned, let’s say, the Spice Girls. (I’m not even sure I was aware of the Spice Girls back then.)

My friend, ever helpful, explains to me that most younger fans came across the fandom in 2020, facilitated by YouTube, Twitter, Tumblr, and pandemic-induced boredom.

Tumblr especially is infamous for its ability to grow and nurture expansive fandoms of pop culture items for years on end, even if the source material is long past its relevance peak (see Supernatural), its quality peak (see Doctor Who) or both (see Sherlock).

The momentum of Louis’ fandom on social media even led to the unusual phenomenon of venues getting bigger every time his concerts were rescheduled due to the pandemic. And this is when it starts to dawn on me. I am not attending a concert; I am witnessing a Tumblr dashboard come to life.

I’m just about to share this thought with my friend when the background music cuts off mid-song, the lights drop, and the sudden darkness comes with a piercing collective shriek that makes the earplugs flutter in my ear canal.

The band comes in first, taking their places. After barely a beat of pause, Louis walks onstage, with messy hair, wearing a tank top and designer sweatpants, walking at a matter-of-fact pace. I assume the shrieking got even louder, but at this noise level it was hard to tell.

Louis takes his place behind the mic stand in the middle and immediately launches into the first song, The Greatest — a stadium anthem basically written explicitly for this spot on the setlist. Not wasting any time on greetings or announcements, he immediately follows up with the other big hit, Kill My Mind. From there, directly onto Bigger Than Me, another stadium-ready rock pop number.

I’m alarmed as I suddenly realize that the only catchy, recognizable songs have come and gone, ushering in the phase of uninterrupted filler songs. (I had dutifully listened to the tour setlist multiple times in preparation for the concert, but my brain just wouldn’t latch on to anything beyond the first three songs.)

At this point, I’m worried this will be a repeat of that time when I went to see P!nk live in concert and noticed too late that I knew none of her songs from after 2005. However, P!nk is a charismatic person and a great live singer who was doing somersaults on a bungee rope as 10 dancers were trampolining and performing aerial acrobatics around her.

Louis is not on a bungee rope. There are no dancers, there is no set piece, there is no stage show, no performance, no outfit changes, no real interaction with the band, and no traditional crowd work. He simply stands behind the mic, singing his songs, the screens above him showing live closeups of his face in black and white, and I’m not sure he smiles even once. For a teen heartthrob, he’s… not very throbby.

(His outfit, by the way, will already have been documented and analyzed by a dedicated Instagram account, @fashionlouist, the owners of which can somehow identify the exact brand and name of each piece he’s wearing within the first 20 minutes of every show. His sweatpants today cost £380.)



Louis on the same tour, earlier in the year. Photograph by Amber Patrick

After the fourth song, Louis finally addresses the audience. “(City), make some noise!” He thanks the two opening acts, and points out that this is one of the loudest crowds he has ever had. That’s it. I’m amused at how his lines are almost comically generic, but my friend explains what I’m not getting: “He always thanks the band, and he always says this wouldn’t be possible without the fans. And he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. And he only says something about the venue when it’s a really special one.”

She doesn’t see his boilerplate statements as him being uninterested or uninteresting. She sees consistency and authenticity, and judging by the beaming smiles all around me, so does everybody else.

Similarly, his outfit may look to me like he tried to make the least amount of effort, but the fandom like that he is “finally getting more comfortable wearing what he wants”.

In case you’re wondering, Louis’s appeal doesn’t lie in his singing skills either — his pitch gets shaky when the melody dips below the falsetto range, but he is clearly making a great effort in this department. Live singing is hard, and for the most part he’s doing a good job at it.

The interchangeable songs go on for a while, and still the elated fans around me seem to know every syllable. It is very warm, very loud, and for an outsider like me, very boring.

I go outside multiple times to have water, to get another beer, to go to the bathroom. I can’t help but notice that I am the only one in my row leaving her seat during the show. Everybody smiles politely as they let me squeeze past, but every time I do it I’m keenly aware of how inappropriate my behavior is. No one else seems to need or want a break.

In the ghostly emptiness outside I overhear a member of the bar staff complaining about the awful evening. At first I don’t understand what they could possibly find offensive about this quintessentially inoffensive music, but it later dawns on me that they were probably referring to the complete lack of beer and concessions sales. Most attendees are either too young to drink legally or too young to want to spend 6,50€ on a beer. Most of them seem to be sharing one cup of water, and no one is leaving during the concert to go to the bar for a refill.

Down the hall, I hear yelling and commotion which turns out to be paramedics on their way outside, transporting a passed-out teenage fan on a stretcher, accompanied by their panicked friend.

When I return to my seat, everybody around me is still scream-singing along to every single word of every single song, including my friend. They are having a great time. It looks like I missed out on “She Is Beauty We Are World Class“, which, as I had learned earlier that evening, is the song his fans collectively take as an opportunity to show off their rainbow flags and create a queer-accepting atmosphere at the show. Though Louis is, by all accounts, a cishet man, the One Direction fandom has a very, let’s say, specific relationship to queerness and queer symbols. More on that in just a moment.

My ears perk up for a bit when Louis gets to Back to You, a label-mandated collab with Digital Farm Animals and Bebe Rexha from 2017. He plays an altered version of the song with more of a rock sound, but it still stands out to me simply for using different chord progressions than all his other songs.

Funnily enough, in the lyrics of another song (We Made It), he directly addresses this qualm of mine: “Singing something poppy on the same four chords, used to worry about it but I don‘t no more“. To his credit, he really doesn’t pretend to be more than he is — that’s all other people‘s doing. Let me explain.

Not counting parents or outsiders like myself, there are three groups of people in this room: former fans of One Direction, Underdog Cheerleaders, and Larry Stylinson conspiracy theorists.

The first group is easy to explain and even easier to relate to: they were big fans of One Direction (or “1D”), and since that band doesn’t exist anymore, the closest thing to it are the concerts by its former members, all of whom have embarked on solo careers. These fans are the ones who visibly come to life during the two 1D songs that Louis plays this evening; and the ones waving the huge rainbow flag with all five 1D members printed on it. (Again, more on that in a second.)

The second group, whom I call the Underdog Cheerleaders, are the group that my friend belongs to. These are the people who are convinced that there was a grand plan by 1D’s management to make Harry Styles the breakout star of the group, and to suppress the careers of all other members for that reason.

But because they, the true fans, appreciate Louis for exactly what he is, they will do anything they can to support this underdog millionaire, whether by making his songs chart by listening at the same time, buying tickets to his livestream performance during Covid, or writing to the BBC to beg them to stop blacklisting his music. (Whether that was ever actually the case is unconfirmed.)

For them, the appeal lies not in his singing, his performance, or songwriting skills. The qualities that are always repeated when people praise Louis Tomlinson are that he is humble and down to earth; a simple lad from a working class family in northern England.

This is pointed out in every single write up about this man. His humanity is further compounded by the untimely deaths of his mother and sister within a few years of each other while he was ascending to solo fame. For the Underdog Cheerleaders, it’s not about music so much as it is about identifying with, celebrating and uplifting the least memorable person in a lineup of five.

And the third group… they are the ones who would purposely pair blue with green. These are the so-called Larries, the people who ship Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson as a couple.

You can find a great deep dive on the topic here, but the long and short of it is this: While there were ships for almost all possible combinations between the five members of One Direction (resulting in droll ship names such as Nouis or Ziall), the Larry ship was by far the most popular.

The ideological overlap between the Underdog Cheerleaders and the Larries is not zero, but while the cheerleaders just want to see the nice guy win, the Larries also want the nice guy (and Harry Styles) to come out as gay.

They are willing to accept any explanation, however flawed or implausible, for why Louis and Harry have yet to come out as a couple even though they have definitely secretly been together for a decade now and their respective heterosexual partners are absolutely paid actors and they even totally have a secret baby together.

The lack of evidence, the repeated denials by the two men in question and their polite but increasingly desperate requests to stop the madness have only fueled the fire.

The one thing that all three groups share is that for all of them, Louis’s public perception is forever tied up with the existence of Harry Styles. Whether he wants to or not, Louis is forever defined against his more popular former band mate, whether as his colleague, competitor, villain, or lover.

It’s about an hour and a half into the show as I allow myself a peek at the set list on my phone. We’re finally nearing the end. Watching the unsmiling face of Louis Tomlinson, I’m wondering — is he enjoying himself? Who even is this person?



By seeing this image, you have experienced the complete stage show of the “Faith in the Future” tour. Photograph by Steve Jennings

The encore consists of three songs. When Louis gets to the last one, he descends into the pit. Still singing, he walks up to the first row who have been camping outside since the day before in order to get this spot. He touches a few of the outstretched hands, walks along the front row to the left, bends into the crowd for a few seconds, and when he reappears he no longer has his tank top on. His fans have ripped it off his body. He retreats back onto the stage, says a few polite words of thanks, and disappears.

And then, the magic is over as quickly as it began. The lights turn on, background music plays, and people immediately start filing out in an orderly manner. Some are clasping the red confetti bands that rained over the audience during the last song, and their faces look like they will treasure this souvenir forever. In the chilly darkness outside, a well-informed busker with a guitar sings songs by Louis and 1D, and a small crowd gathers around him to sing along while waiting for the shuttle bus back to the city.

At the end of the night, I’m left wondering what all these thousands of young fans really care about. Even though everybody knows all the music by heart, it doesn’t really seem to be about the music. And even though there’s a throng of fans crowded around the stage exit for a chance to wave at the tour bus with Louis in it, I don’t know whether this really has anything to do with him personally.

Because at its innermost core, this fandom is about itself. Not in the sense of its specific members — I didn’t see many fans interacting and making new friends — but rather, the fandom as an abstract entity.

It’s the joy of belonging to an in-group; of sending and receiving signals that only the initiated will understand. The firm belief that you’re backing the right horse, that you’re part of something “Bigger Than Me”, that there is a purpose to your music listening.

Who is Louis Tomlinson? I still have no idea, and neither does it really matter. Nobody else cares. They will make Louis Tomlinson into whatever they need him to be.