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makoodles · 10 months

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ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

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

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reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey–”

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

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

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

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

“Tawtute?”

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

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

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

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

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes.” You say.

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

“How would you like me to–”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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delicatepoets · 2 years

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THE BURGUNDY ON MY T SHIRT WHEN YOU SPLASHED YOUR WINE INTO ME AND HOW THE BLOOD RUSHED INTO MY CHEEKS SO SCARLET IT WAS… THE MARK THEY SAW ON MY COLLAR BONE THE RUST THAT GREW BETWEEN TELEPHONES THE LIPS I USED TO CALL HOME SO SCARLET IT WAS MAROONNNNNNNNN

#scratches a special itch in my brain #i will scream it at the top of my lungs EVERY TIME #ESPECIALLY THAT ONE PART! YOU ALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT 🫡#mely talks taylor!#mely talks music!#midnights

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year

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Taking His Virginity (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You take his virginity. How does he react?

minors/ageless/blank blogs dni or get blocked :c

»Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Beel, Dia

»Tags: ⚠️ 🔞 NSFW (18+), GN Reader/MC, Clingy-ness, Fluffy and smutty, Mentions of blood, biting, scratching, Rough, Manhandling(?)

»Notes: I will leave this here though, cya guys whenever! Super excited for Nightbringer tomorrow!

Lucifer:

"It's the last part left of my...angelic...side."

The thought of him getting that intimate with someone was...unnerving. That was the last part of him he had left that was in his control. He never cared if someone had found out about it, but due to how private he was, it never came up. And rumors always seemed to think otherwise. Over the years, he had entertained the thought of just getting it over with, but ultimately decided to just wait until he felt comfortable enough with someone. Someone worthy.

~~~

Lucifer underestimated the act of sex. He could not get through foreplay in his human form, he shifted into demon form and you let him know it was okay. He tried to stay quiet but groans/grunts escaped his lips. He was eager, his wings wouldn't stop flapping, which made for an interesting time but you both had fun. One night was just not enough, he could not get enough of you! He asked for the next day off (on short notice!? first time for everything!!) and kept fucking you until he was satisfied. Believe it or not, Lucifer was clingy/possessive the next few days. The intimacy got to him. ♡

Mammon:

"Look I was just nervous...I never felt comfortable with anyone gettin' that close to me, y'know? Maybe it's celestial brain or somethin'. "

He knows he doesn't seem the type after so long in the Devildom, but it's true. Yes he's lied about it. Yes it's draining fighting off interested demons/monsters...and it's scary and annoying. He was gonna do it whenever he felt like it. Whenever he was ready.

~~~

Oh he was in love, in bliss. He was vocal. Mammon was letting you know exactly how much he was enjoying it. His nails did accidentally dig deep into you and you bled a little, but you assured him it was okay, it was an accident. He came quickly at first and was embarrassed but you were patient and assured him it was normal. He definitely cried after everything and you soothed him. The night was filled with a lot of cuddles and kisses. He was fragile and clingy the next few days. You made sure to give him all the hugs and kisses he wanted. "Thank you for being my first." ♡

Levi:

"Are you even surprised? Who would want me?"

Of course he's wanted to do it. He might've considered hiring a succubus. But it's so scary and annoying getting to know people. And seriously he's so disgusting who would even...?

He hoped if it did happen one day, it'd be with someone special. He hoped they would accept all of him and his love. All of it.

~~~

Levi was fucking loud. The otaku could not stop moaning. He could not stop his desperate high pitched whining. It was hot. The way his hips eagerly thrust to meet you was too damn cute. "Oh? Letting your brothers know exactly what's going on? They must be so jealous." He came very easily after that. His tail would not stop swishing around. You made sure to continue riding the fuck out of him as he came, he screamed and was a (not so) pure mess. The overstimulation was too much for him but he loved it anyway. He was very addicted to you for the next few days.♡ Everyone in HOL was over it though.

Beel:

"I don't know, it just never happened?"

He's had urges but normally took care of them by himself. He just never really connected with anyone enough to do it. He was a simple man, jerk it and go on with the day. When he found you though, he definitely noticed the urges get much stronger. His hand was not enough anymore.

~~~

He was...rough. He didn't mean to! But his primal side really came out. You just looked so good, so inviting. As soon as he buried himself in you he had. To. Ruin. You. He definitely groaned a lot and might've drooled a little. Its just the way his sensitive cock dragged against your walls for the first time was too delicious. He apologized for the bites, he made sure to give them extra soft kisses. Clean up took a while...he came a lot.

"Can we do it again? ♡"

Diavolo:

"Mm...I don't have a lot of people I trust. But you?...I do."

It was already hard making real friends, let alone a romantic partner. Trust and honesty were at the top of his list. He had to make sure his first time was with someone he could trust, who treated him like any other person. This demon only ever wanted real love.

~~~

Diavolo was actually super shy and nervous. To be fair, it was his first time, and with a human at that. Undressing him was…really cute. You were delicate with the giant demon. That only really lasted a few minutes though. Once things got really hot and heavy and he finally dipped his cock into you, he took over. He was vocal and let you know how good you felt around him. The prince tossed you around effortlessly and pounded the fuck out of you for two days...and it was all love. Barbatos was not happy about canceling meetings and moving stuff around. Diavolo was clingy for a few days and you showered him with extra love.

"Thank you for seeing me for me."

⬦You might also like: Thong︱Submissive & Breedable︱Virgin Handjob (Dia)

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #obey me gn!reader #obey me reader #obey me smut headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me fic #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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strang3lov3’s masterlist

I do not give consent for anyone to copy, plagiarize, translate, or post my work elsewhere for any reason at all. Always ask permission of writers if their work sparks inspiration, and give credit where credit is due.

all fics are f!reader

Joel Miller

One shots

Lookalike - Joel finds your dirty mag and makes you get off in front of him.

Everyday I’m Shufflin’ - Joel is horrified to find out that you cannot shuffle a deck of cards, so he teaches you in a rather unorthodox way.

A Learning Process - When it rains, it pours. Shit hits the fan the first day you’re alone with your infant son, and Joel comforts you.

Tis’ But a Scratch - Too stubborn and proud to admit your mistakes or that you may need Joel’s help sometimes, Joel decides to teach you a lesson.

For Science - Joel helps to alleviate your period cramps. You know, for science.

Sleeping Beauty - Joel realizes you’re dreaming of him and wakes you up in the best way possible (his head between your thighs)

Self-Indulgent Tendencies - (dbf!joel) Joel finds you skinny dipping in his pool, and gives you two options. He can call the cops on you or he can punish you himself. You choose the latter of the two.

Phone a Friend - a story of two assholes and how they resolved their sexual tension (alternatively, Joel is sick of hearing you masturbate night after night)

Death by Flirting - five times you made Joel blush, and when he finally did it back to you.

Cup of Sugar - (dilf!neighbor!Joel) Joel catches you rifling through his belongings when you’re frantically searching for batteries after your vibrator dies.

Joyride - (dbf!joel) when your car breaks down, Joel decides to give you one of his. He just has to make sure you can handle a stick first ;)

Have your cake and eat it too - (brat tamer!joel, mean!joel, dom!joel) when you make joel bust in his favorite pair of jeans, he makes you clean your mess.

Erotic City - adult store owner! Joel helps you learn to make yourself come

Cream (horny husband!joel x reader) Joel is insatiable. He convinces you to get it on at his aunt's house on Thanksgiving. He's also got a lot of dirty Thanksgiving jokes he thought of last year that he's been saving to annoy you.

Fighting Fair - Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.

Love Spell - (Sex pollen) After eating some mysterious berries, you and Joel spend a very memorable and unexpected Valentine’s Day together

Enjoy the Silence - You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position.

Chevelle - (virginity loss) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money

Play Stupid Games - who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples?

Series:

Lather (incomplete) When Joel injures his shoulder, he needs your help washing his hair and getting off 🚿🧼💦 part one, part two

Mall Rats(complete) Joel keeps track of you as you search your way through an abandoned mall. You don’t make his job easy. First stop is Victoria’s Secret Part one, part two, part three, part four, halloween special, part five part six, part seven

Brain Scramblies (complete) after sustaining a concussion, you tell Joel how you really feel about him. You don’t remember a thing the next day. Part one, part two

Roman Roy

One shots

Invisible Line- boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Updated 04/17/2024

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #strang3lov3 #succession #succession x reader #succession fic #roman roy smut #roman roy x you #roman roy x reader #roman roy #Roman Roy x reader smut

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cevansbrat0007 · 10 months

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Creep

Summary: You sneak out of the house to go on a midnight supply run, which inadvertently sends Ari into panic mode.

Warnings: Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Periods, Discussions of PTSD, Harassment, Slight Manhandling, Light D/s Overtones, Ass Slapping, Punishments (mentioned), Handcuffs (mentioned), Hair Pulling, Fun in the Shower, Discussions of Religion, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt suggested by my darling @writer84. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s House – 11:47pm

You stare down at the crumpled piece of toilet tissue in your hand. Of all the nights Aunt Flow could’ve picked to come calling, she’d chosen the only night you’d decided to sleepover at Ari’s place this week. Which sucked because you were also completely unprepared since it had arrived ahead of schedule.

Fuck! Sometimes you really did have the most awful luck.

Heaving a dramatic sigh, you quickly pull up your shorts and flush before washing your hands and heading back towards your man’s bedroom. After racking your brain, you were pretty sure that you didn’t have a spare in your glovebox either.

Which meant that you would need to make a special trip to the store. At this point, it was either that or sleeping on a towel. And the last thing you wanted to do was ruin one of Ari’s towels or, worse yet, his sheets.

Mind made up, you quietly gather up your things so as not to disturb your slumbering lawman before going off in search of your flip flops. Feeling uncomfortable walking out in just a tank top that you normally reserved for sleeping, you decide to help yourself to one of your man’s freshly laundered t-shirts he’d left folded on the counter.

Smiling, you slip it over your head and then you grab a random piece of scratch paper and pen so that you can leave your overprotective bounty hunter a brief note. In a few words, you let him know that you were leaving for the night and that you’d call him in the morning.

Once that’s done you grab your phone off the charger, as well as your purse and keys, before exiting through the front door and then locking it behind you. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to Ari because of your carelessness.

You hustle to your car, engaging the locks the moment you climb inside. From there, you waste almost no time turning on the vehicle and putting it in reverse before slowly backing out of the driveway.

Hopefully you hadn’t woken Ari. Because even if the man did manage to drive you up the wall from time to time, it didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a good night’s sleep. Which was why you were so hell bent on not bothering him with any of this.

Sure, he’d probably grump and growl about it tomorrow. But he’d get over it eventually, especially once he realized that he hadn’t signed up to deal with you while you danced with the red devil in your belly.

At just after midnight you knew your only option for your late night supply run was going to be Wilson’s Drugmart. While you usually preferred to do all your shopping at Herb & Twine, they weren’t open late. Not even on the weekends.

So, while Wilson’s wasn’t ideal, it would simply have to do. Your hands clench around the steering wheel as you find yourself questioning your decision to just up and leave without waking Ari. If you were being honest, you probably should’ve at least had the decency to say goodbye.

Biting your lip, you make a mental note to apologize to the gruff bounty hunter first thing in the morning. Maybe you'd even stop by Stella’s Coffee House to pick up some breakfast for you both. Assuming you could manage to haul your ass out of bed early enough to catch your man before he hit the road.

Yep. That was officially the plan. A carefully worded apology with a side of fresh baked apple strudel and a cup of coffee.

It’s not long before you finally find yourself pulling into the convenience store’s parking lot, which is virtually empty. This doesn’t come as much of a surprise, however, especially since the hour was growing increasingly late.

The way you saw it, being the only one in the store had its perks. It meant that you’d be able to get in and get out with minimal hassle. Which was exactly what you’d been hoping for.

Shutting off your car, you sling your purse over your shoulder before stepping out into the warm summer night once again. You hustle across the lot all the while battling a particularly persistent swarm of gnats.

“Gross!” You hiss, praying that none of them got stuck in your curls. Otherwise you were liable to have a fit.

As you reach the double doors, you notice an old, withered man sitting off to the side. His head is bowed as he rocks back and forth from his perch on the concrete, his faded green coat looking oddly out of place due to the season.

He looks up as you pass by, muttering something that you can’t quite make out. Not wanting to be rude, you offer him a smile. And when he holds out a dirty cup, you find yourself feeling compelled to dig some spare change out of your purse and hand it over.

His eyes narrow at the clinking of the coins, but he doesn’t say anything. Which you take as your cue to continue on with your plans to locate some tampons and then get your butt home.

You welcome the blast of air conditioning that hits you the moment you step into the store.

You spend a minute or two looking around for an associate, but when your search comes up empty, you decide you’d rather go it alone insteading of wasting any more time. All you had to do was scan the aisles until you found the section that housed their selection of feminine products.

As you make your way around you can’t help but hum along to James Taylor’s version of “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You)”. The lyrics made you think of the man you’d left behind a few miles down the road. More often than not, being with him tended to conjure up all kinds of confusing emotions.

But for some reason you simply couldn’t get enough of him. It was actually starting to become a bit of a problem.

Hanging a left you finally find the aisle you need. You were almost at the finish line. Just a couple more minutes and you’d be headed home. To your pleasant surprise, you’re thrilled to see that they’ve actually got quite a few options to choose from.

You allow yourself to stand there for a few minutes as you debate over whether or not to stick with your tried and true brand or try their competitor. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice that someone has joined you in the aisle until you hear them speak.

“Jezebel.”

“Excuse me?” You reply, turning your head in the direction of the voice. The last person you expect to see is the homeless man who’d been loitering outside.

What the hell was he doing in this aisle? Surely he’d be better off scraping together what little change he’d managed to collect in favor of buying himself a sandwich. Maybe he didn’t have enough so he came to ask you for more.

If that was the case, then you’d be more than happy to purchase it for him when you paid for the rest of your items.

You open up your mouth to make him an offer, only to be cut off when he speaks again. “I know what you are. I might be old, but I’m not easily fooled.” He points a bony finger in your direction. “I can smell you.”

“Oookay.” You mumble under your breath before quickly returning your attention to the rows of tampons and pads. While you were confident that you smelled just fine, you were now officially anxious to get your shit and get out.

“You go by many names.” He continues, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Many. Many. Many names. I’m familiar with them all.” He takes a step towards you, his unfocused eyes filled with an emotion you don’t quite recognize.

But you can certainly tell that it isn’t friendly. Time to get far away from this creep.

“Pretty sure I’ve just got the one though.” Sensing that you’ve run out of time you decide to snag a couple boxes of your preferred brand and keep it moving. You’d try the other guys next time. Right now, what mattered was putting some distance between yourself and this would-be dollar store prophet. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He shakes his head “no” as he takes another step. “They call you Jezebel. Delilah. Herodia. Athaliah. I recognize you as a direct descendant of Eve. The Mother of all that is evil.”

“Nope. That is definitely not me.” Spinning on your heel, you go to exit the aisle. Only to stop short when you realize your path is blocked by a stack of boxes that were in the process of being stocked.

Shit! Why hadn’t your dumbass been paying better attention?

“Your beauty betrays you. It’s impossible to hide the stench of the impure. Of the unclean.”

Duly noted.

“You tried to tempt me outside. Tempt me with 30 pieces of silver!” His voice rises with each word. And coincidentally, so does your blood pressure. “But I am no Judas, you witch. And I will not betray my Lord and Master!” He dumps his cup of change onto the ground, making you jump back as coins go scattering this way and that.

Okey dokey, pal. Time to get lost.

“Look, I didn’t mean any harm earlier.” Your gaze strays to the pile of boxes in your way. Maybe you could throw one if you had to. Perhaps you could scare him into leaving you alone. “I–I wasn’t trying to, uh, tempt you. I was trying to help you, that’s all.”

Alright, new plan. You’d scream your head off while assaulting him with pads and tampons until help arrived.

“Lies. All honeyed lies of my enemy. I will not fall prey to your charms, Delilah. I am not as weak as my brother Samson!” His mottled face appears to be almost vibrating with rage.

But thankfully, just as you’re about to scream for your life, a Wilson’s employee appears holding a walkie talkie as well as something that looks akin to pepper spray. You’re so grateful you could kiss him. Although you’d settle for throwing a $20 bill at him and dashing out the store.

And he could keep the fucking change.

“Everything okay here, Ma’am?” The associate is young, possibly in his early to mid-twenties. But his body is packed with lean muscle which hopefully signals that he could handle himself should a skirmish happen ensue.

He moves to insert himself between you and the assumed threat. And even though he’s talking to you his eyes remain trained to the man in your path.

“Be careful. Don’t you see?” The disheveled vagrant goes to grab the worker’s arm, attempting to pull him closer to his own body and away from you. This time, the clerk has the sense to appear just as unsettled as you feel. “When a woman has a discharge and it is of blood, she shall continue in her menstrual impurity for seven days; and whoever touches her shall be unclean.” His wide eyes glimmer as he speaks, drops of spittle flying from his mouth. “Leviticus 15:19. She taints this space just by existing within it.”

“Right.” You mumble, taking a hesitant step back while maintaining your grip on your box of tampons. “I–In that case, I think I’m ready to check out now. Please.” You feel yourself beginning to sweat as you watch the clerk attempt to dislodge the disturbed man’s grasp.

“Go on, Ma’am. I’ll meet you at the front.” He grunts as he breaks free, shoving the older man backwards. “Just need a moment to have a word with our good buddy, Julius, here.”

“See? She’s already corrupting you, young man. Using her wicked femininity to seduce you as Eve did Adam. Soon she’ll have you worshiping at the shrine of Baal and then…”

You don’t bother sticking around to hear the rest. While it had been a long time since you’d been in Sunday school, it didn’t take a theological scholar to deduce that all of those names he’d mentioned had come straight from the darkest chapters of the Bible. And you were pretty damn sure that none of those women were known for their charming wit or sparkling personality.

Oh well. Guess you’d have to chalk it up to another Thursday night in the town of Bell’s Creek.

After a few moments, another associate comes from somewhere in the back to ring you out. You don’t say much, instead offering a strained smile as he proceeds to quickly bag the tampons as well as a couple of chocolate bars.

You all but snatch the receipt before concluding that it probably wouldn’t hurt to request an escort to your car. So you do. Which does absolute wonders for your anxiety. And it’s only once you’re safely back in your vehicle do you finally allow yourself to let out the breath you’d been holding.

You peel out the lot a few seconds later, your body remaining tense behind the wheel for what feels like much of the entire drive. All fifteen minutes of it.

Fifteen Minutes Later…

Relief fills you when you finally spy your house coming up in the distance. However, your celebration proves to be short-lived when you notice a familiar black Nissan Titan parked on the street out front.

Fuck! What the hell was Ari doing here at this hour?

You throw your car in park and kill the engine. You even manage to undo the belt before Ari opens the door and drags you out of the seat and into his arms, leaving you momentarily speechless

“God, I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, the sound of his voice partially muffled by your curls. “So sorry.” One of his large hands begins rubbing soothing circles along your back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Huh?”

Seriously. Nothing about tonight was going the way you thought it would. Perhaps Mercury was in retrograde or something. That was a thing…right?

“What happened?” Ari presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “What’d I do?” He pulls away after a beat, holding you at arms length so that he can look you over, his worried blue eyes scanning your body from head to toe. “D–did I say something?” He swallows thickly as his hands drop to his sides. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Sensing your bounty hunter was in distress, you reach up to cup his bearded cheek, smoothing your thumb along his ticking jaw. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Instead of responding, Ari continues to stare blankly ahead. His gaze trained on some unknown point just behind you. Rising on your toes, you place your other hand on his face, willing him to look at you. But for some reason he still refuses to meet your eyes.

“What makes you think you hurt me?” You try, keeping your tone light as you attempt to coax some answers out of him. “Talk to me, Beast.” You’d already had your fill of cryptic and crazy for the night.

“Woke up and you were gone.” Comes his quiet rasp, his voice sounding hollow. “Bed was cold. Empty. Got nothing when I called your phone.”

You wince when you recall that the damned thing was probably on silent. But even still, there was something about all this that just wasn’t making any sense.

“Okay…” Although you’re quick to point out that you left him a note, he’s just as quick to brush it off. Almost as if he’s not actually hearing you. “But that doesn’t explain why you thought you might’ve hurt me.”

There was an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of your stomach.

“Did two tours in Afghanistan a while back. I’m man enough to admit I came back a little fucked up. The nightmares have been quiet lately but, uh –” He cuts himself off before taking a deep breath. “But sometimes I say things. An ex said I used to cry. Mostly.” He takes another shuddering breath. “Except one time when I…”

“When you what?” Your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip as you wait for him to get on with it. But you refuse to rush him, your own impatience be damned.

“I woke up screaming. Except it was like I couldn’t leave the dream behind. For a moment I was…back there and…and I shoved my ex hard enough to send her crashing onto the bedroom floor. Left her with a pretty gnarly bruise.”

“Jesus Christ.” You didn’t know what else to say. Clearly whatever had taken place that night had left a mark on the man who stood before you today.

No wonder he looked so…haunted.

“We parted ways soon after that. Said I was too unpredictable. That she was afraid I might hurt her even worse next time.” He finishes with a shrug, looking more lost than perhaps he actually cared to admit.

“That’s not – it was an accident, honey.” You mean every word, all the while wishing you could do more to get him to understand that he hadn’t done anything wrong tonight. Or any other night for that matter.

Had you known the way things were going to unfold this evening, you would’ve woken him up and told him about your plans. You would’ve let him see that you were okay. Made sure he was fully conscious when you said goodbye.

But instead you’d gone and crept out of his house like a thief in the night.

Again, your gentle giant shakes his head. “But she was right though, Bird. So, I got myself a counselor for a time. Thought maybe I’d win her back, or at the very least prove to myself that I was stable enough to deserve another chance. If not with her, then maybe with somebody else.”

Someone like you. The unspoken words hang in the air, buzzing around your head like an overzealous bumblebee.

“And did it help?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth, you find yourself swiftly rephrasing so that he doesn’t think you’re asking about his former lover. “The therapy, I mean.”

“Some.” In truth, he hadn’t had a single night terror since he’d met you. But at the time he’d been too afraid to question anything. “Hasn’t happened in a while.” However, he also wasn’t the type to believe in coincidences either.

“Progress is progress, Ari. If you say it helped, then I believe it did.” You move to grab one of his hands with both of yours. “But I promise you didn’t hurt me.” You bring your clasped hands up to your lips for a kiss. “And I’m so sorry I worried you tonight.”

All you receive is a grunt for your trouble. Which lets you know that he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you left. Snuck out in the middle of the goddamned night without so much as a goodbye.” His free hand comes up to lightly grip the back of your neck, hauling you forward. “You’ve never done that. In all the time we’ve been building whatever the fuck this is, you’ve never pulled that shit. Which means something happened. So forgive me if I don’t readily believe the sweet lies coming out of your pretty little mouth.”

Little did he know that he was actually the second man to accuse you of being a liar in the span of less than thirty minutes. One was a lover, and the other, a creep. You were certainly racking ‘em up tonight.

Unsure of what else to say – and not wanting to risk upsetting him further – you decide to go with the truth and let the chips fall where they may.

“I…I got my period.” You tell him, wincing as the words spill out. “It came a couple days early.” Now it’s your turn to offer up your own lame shrug, all the while still holding his hand. “I didn’t notice until after you fell asleep and I didn’t have my stuff with me…”

You watch as his eyes narrow, his brain working overtime to make sense of the story you’re telling him. Quite honestly, you felt horrible that the man had spent even a minute thinking he had caused you harm when, in all reality, you’d just dipped out to go on an embarrassing supply run.

“Bullshit.” He scoffs as he rocks back on his heels, effectively dislodging your grip.

“I–I’m serious, Ari.” Wanting to prove you were telling the truth, you reach inside the car to procure the plastic bag that contained your goodies. “I mean I’m usually better prepared, but for once I didn’t have anything with me, so I had to run out and buy some tampons. Which turned out to be a literal flipping nightmare. But once I was done, I figured I’d head on home.”

“Is that right?” He shoves his hands in his pockets. And that’s when you notice that tick in his jaw is back. “Just like that?”

Why did you all of the sudden get the feeling that you’d fucked up?

“Well, I didn’t think it would be overly kind of me to risk your sheets like that.” You press on as he snatches the bag from you and peers inside. “And not only that, but I also figured you probably wouldn’t be up for dealing with me during my time, so I–”

“So you just waltzed the fuck out my front door in the middle of the night?” There’s no mistaking the dangerous edge in his tone and your casual admission of being on your period does nothing to satisfy him.

“I left you a note, honey.”

“Fuck your note!” Ari all but snarls, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “I grew up with sisters. I don’t give a shit about you being on the rag.” He tosses the bag back at you. “It ain’t nothin’ but a little blood, baby. It’s not like you’ve got the goddamned plague.”

“There’s no need to be crass.” You mutter, lightly rubbing your hands up and down your arms. “Although I take your meaning well enough. I suppose I shouldn’t have run out like that. But if you were in my shoes you might’ve done the same.”

“Bird.” Your tall bounty hunter huffs before taking a step towards you. It’s followed by another. And then another. Until he has you almost pinned against the side of your car. “I’m gonna tell you something. And I really want you to hear me when I do. So, you let me know when you’ve got your listening ears on, alright?”

A hand fists its way into your curls, wrenching your head back just enough so that you can look into his eyes. Right now, your man required your full attention. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d make sure he got it.

“I…I’m listening.” Your spine stiffens as your breasts heave.

“Good. Because the way I see it, you and me…we’re building something here.” He leans in to brush his lips over yours. Once. Twice. “Which means I care about you. Your wants, your needs. Whether you had a good day or a bad one. What you had for lunch, right along with what you’re thinking about for dinner. I wanna be the one who loves you to sleep. And if I can’t be there in person, then I at least wanna be the last voice you hear before you drift off at night.”

The bag you’ve been holding drops to the ground in a forgotten heap as your hands fly to his chest. You grip the front of his shirt, your legs turning into jelly. But Ari doesn’t mind. He’s determined to finish what he’s started here.

“I wanna be the guy who takes care of you. Not just because you need it, sweetheart. But because you deserve it. Which means that from here on out, your solo midnight tampon runs are officially a thing of the past.” Ari releases your hair in favor of grasping your chin, dragging the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Ari…” You breathe as your eyes flutter closed.

“I wanna keep exploring what’s between us, little Bird. So in the meantime, as your man, I’m asking you not to fly away on me.”

“I–I’m right here.” You assure him as you move to loop your arms around his neck so that you can bring him down to your level. “I won’t…I won’t fly away on you again.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs before allowing his forehead to rest against your own, nuzzling your nose with his. You only break apart when a nearby porch light comes on.

Apparently you’d woken Ms. Evelyn. The last thing the two of you needed was an audience, especially with your nosy nextdoor neighbor. It’s clear Ari agrees with you as he bends down to pick up the fallen bag before motioning you in the direction of the house.

Guess it was finally time to take the party inside.

“You, uh…” You begin as you busy yourself with fishing your keys out of your purse. “Are you coming in? Wait. Dumb question. I meant to ask whether you were intending to stay the night.”

“I reckon so.” Ari grunts as he brings up the rear. He keeps a watchful eye on your surroundings as you unlock the front door. “Especially since you and I still have a few more things to sort out.” You know without requiring further explanation that your man’s not asking so much as he is telling.

“If you say so. But can we maybe table it until after my shower?” You toe off your shoes and leave them by the door, satisfied when Ari follows suit. “If it were any other time I’d ask if you wanted to join.” You pull your t-shirt over your head as you walk farther into the house before draping it over the arm of your couch. “But given the circumstances it’s probably best if I wash up alone.”

By the time you reach the bedroom you’re already undoing the zipper on your shorts. Ari is hot on your heels of course. And when you finally spare him a glance you see he’s sporting a pretty heavy frown.

“And what circumstances might those be?” He growls, cocking his hip against your dresser.

“Um. Could’ve sworn we just established that I started my period, big guy.” You toss him a playfully exasperated look over your shoulder. Only to be taken aback by the seriousness written all over his features. “I mean, surely you wouldn’t want to…” You trail off, confused by the bounty hunter’s renewed wave of annoyance.

“What?” Ari snaps, running an agitated hand through his hair. “What else have you decided on my behalf, Duchess? I love learning about myself like this.”

Oof. You really weren’t a fan of that tone he was using. Apparently you’d somehow gone and pricked his temper once again.

“I just meant…” You lose your train of thought as you watch him remove a pair of what looks a lot like handcuffs from his back pocket. “W–what do you plan on doing with those?”

“Not a damn thing.” Ari huffs before removing his shirt and tossing it to the side. “Unless you plan on leaving me to wake up alone all over again. Because if that’s the case we can start thinking of ‘em as an insurance policy.” And while he chuckles, you don’t believe he’s joking for a second.

“I already told you I’m not gonna run. If you’re really that damn paranoid you can wait outside the bathroom door.” You slide your shorts down your legs before kicking them into the corner. As far as you were concerned you’d worry about cleaning up later.

“I’ll do you one better, sweetness.” Comes your man’s answering grunt. He suddenly lunges forward without warning, throwing you over his shoulder before striding off in the direction of the shower. “My nerves are shot thanks to you. So we’re simply gonna shower together and call it a day.”

He delivers a sharp blow to your ass, delighting in your responding growl. In fact he’s glad you’re frustrated. Because so was he.

“Put me down you Beast!” You cry, snagging the box of tampons on your way out of the room.

“In a minute.” He gifts you with another smack.

Once you reach the bathroom he finally sets you back on the floor. In a flash, he tears panties from your body. “Add it to my tab, baby.” Is all he says when he notices your pursed lips.

“You owe me a trip to Victoria’s Secret, cowboy.” You sniff, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Your Beast has already made a significant dent in the size of your underwear drawer. Which meant he owed you a shopping spree. And he was going to pay up before you were forced to do something drastic and uncomfortable like going commando.

“Can’t wait.”

An indulgent smile flits across Ari’s lips as he helps you inside the shower before joining you. You shiver when he gives you his back so that he can adjust the temperature of the water. You take a moment to drink him in, marveling at the sight of his sinewy muscles moving and bunching beneath his smooth, lightly freckled skin.

Once he’s got it just how he knows you like it he turns around to reach for a cloth as well as your favorite body wash. “You still okay with letting me take care of you, sweet Bird?” He asks while he lathers up, his patient smile easing your own nerves.

You give him a silent nod. But even as you do, you find yourself feeling shy when Ari beckons you closer. How could you not be? This was all brand new territory for you. And now that you found yourself sharing a shower with your strapping beast of a man, it made for tight quarters.

“Relax for me, sweetheart.” He purrs as he pulls you under the warm spray before dragging the soapy cloth down between the valley of your breasts. “I got you.”

A tiny whimper escapes as he takes his time lavishing attention on your chest, teasing each of your pebbled nipples as he does. And then he dips lower, trailing the suds down your belly. Again he takes his time doting on you. There would be no rushing things tonight.

In Ari’s mind, this was your punishment for sneaking out the way you had. Your punishment for making him feel things he never thought he would again. Your punishment for making him fall in love with you.

And while he couldn’t give you those words tonight, he knew without a doubt he was capable of loving you soft and sweet. He was going to earn you. Prove to you that he was deserving of your trust.

Of you.

Because tonight he knew without a doubt that he wanted to keep you for good. Now, all he had to do was convince you to allow yourself to be kept. His beautifully stubborn little Bird. He couldn’t possibly allow you to fly away from him again.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” Ari rasps as he pulls you flush against his big body so that he can wash your back, scrubbing the cloth across the blades of your shoulders and then along the curve of your spine. “It’s like you don’t even see it. But I do. I see all of it. And I’ll be damned if I don’t admit that I want it all for myself.”

You rise on your toes when he reaches the globes of your ass. He continues gentle ministrations without fail, only pausing to give into temptation long enough to squeeze your cheeks with both hands.

“I–you’re very sweet, Ari.” Comes your unsure reply. Your man had quite a knack getting you off balance.

“If you let me, I’ll make it my mission to tell you every day. Remind you how I feel about all these delectable curves.” Ari offers you a warm smile as he drops you to his knees right there in the shower, eliciting a surprised sound from you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your fingers sinking into the damp strands of his chestnut brown hair.

“Worshiping you.” He responds without missing a beat. “The way you deserve.” And then he begins to wash your feet, gently working his way up along your calves before moving even higher, stopping just short of the delicate juncture between your thighs. “And I want you to let me.”

“There isn’t a single part of you that I don’t cherish, down to the very marks that adorn your hips.” He trails the pads of his thumbs across your skin as he marvels at the faint stripes. “I can’t wait to learn all of you.”

Tears blur your vision as his quiet plea resounds in your head. Because you couldn’t ever recall a time where someone had treated you with so much care or tenderness. It’s enough to overwhelm you, but at the same time, you also can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop.

“Swear to God, you have the most divine pussy, baby.” Your eyes meet as he presses the cloth against your core. Not a word is spoken as he tends to his task of washing you. And when he’s finished, he bestows a reverent kiss on your mound before rising to his feet once again.

“See?” Ari murmurs, holding the lightly soiled rag under the water before ringing it out so that you can watch the pink rivulets go down the drain. “Ain’t nothing but a little bit of blood. That’s literally all it is.”

Now it’s your turn to smile as you reach for another cloth. You wet it under the spray you then reach for your body wash, squirting a generous amount on the fabric before sudsing it up.

“My turn, please.” You whisper, placing it against his hard chest. “I wanna…” You force yourself to pause, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat. “You matter to me too.”

Ari’s vibrant blue eyes shine with emotion as he opens his arms to you, effectively giving you permission to do as you wish. Which is something you take full advantage of, regardless of your trembling hands.

By the time you’re through, your bounty hunter is both squeaky clean and also painfully hard. However, he makes no move to remedy the situation. In fact, he even playfully swats you away the moment your attentions become a little too much for him to handle.

You didn’t know it, but tonight Ari wanted to show you that he was capable of intimacy outside the realm of sex. Even if it left him with the worst case of blue balls he’s experienced in recent memory.

“Not tonight, Bird.” Comes his gentle purr. “Aw, don’t pout now. I want to, believe me. But it can wait.” He places a soft, sweet kiss on your lips before shutting off the water. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he leans out of the shower to hand you a towel before finding one for himself.

“Thank you.” With that, you’re back to feeling shy again.

After patting himself dry, he drapes the towel across his shoulders. “I’ll leave you to take care of your feminine business.” And then he saunters out the room, gifting you with a nice long look at his shapely ass.

Damn Ari Levinson was one handsome hunk of man.

“Quit staring and hurry up already. The longer I’m left alone, the stronger the urge to make use of my cuffs.”

And with that, the spell is broken. Argh! Him and those damned things. You already knew he traveled with two pairs. If he kept this shit up you were liable to swipe one of them for when your oversized menace finally managed to push you too far. But for now, you’d settle for handling your so-called “feminine business” so that you could rejoin your man in your bedroom.

A few minutes later, you find Ari lounging on your bed. You also notice that he has laid out a pair of panties, sleep shorts, and a cami for you as well. His thoughtfulness is enough to leave you feeling warm and tingly all over as you hastily dress.

“Come to bed, Bird.” Your bounty hunter holds out his hand, beckoning you forward with his outstretched palm. “You’ve deprived me of your sweet body for long enough.”

“Yes Sir.” That makes you giggle even as your cheeks heat. Ari just had this way about him. He was so good at making you feel wanted. Cherished. Desired. Loved.

Loved? Oh God. Is that what this was? Is this what it felt like to actually be in love?

Deciding you’d be better off sorting through those confusing emotions in private, you climb into bed with Ari. Frankly, you’d had enough excitement for one night. You’d much rather spend the remainder of the evening curled up in the arms of this beautifully complex man.

Only once he’s got you settled on top of him does he finally relax. “I’m not too heavy, am I?” Of course you already knew what he would say, but his typical response always seemed to give you butterflies when you heard it. And tonight was no exception.

“You ain’t nothing but a feather, little Bird.”

Feeling content, the two of you allow yourselves to fall into a comfortable silence that’s only broken by the occasional whispered caress of his lips along your brow.

“Ari?”

“Hm?” He grunts, his deep voice growing heavy with sleep.

“Maybe…would you mind if I kept a few things at your place?” You ask once you’ve gathered up your nerve. “Nothing too crazy. Just some clothes. And maybe an emergency stash of tampons.” You offer him a cheeky grin, loving the warmth and affection you see in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“Baby, I already memorized the details on the box sitting on the vanity. You’ll have a new supply of the brand you like under my sink by sundown tomorrow, okay?”

He hoped to God that your preferred brand had a variety pack. But if not, he’d play it safe and buy his girl a box in every size.

“I can buy them if –”

“If what?” Ari playfully interrupts as his hand wanders down to grab a chunk of your ass. “If I decide I’m not secure enough in my masculinity to purchase a box of tampons on my own? Nah. I’ll be fine, you just worry about packing a bag to leave at my place and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Well…” You brush your lips across his pec. “If you’re sure.” You snuggle even deeper into his chest, draping a leg over his hips. “Good night, my handsome Beast.”

“Sweet dreams, my beautiful Bird.”

Eventually you doze off with James Taylor’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved by You)” playing on loop in your mind. But you decide not to question it. You’d deal with the man who was currently creeping his way into your heart first thing in the morning…

And not a moment before.

END

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papasmistakeria · 10 months

Text

Omg more Father Paul Hill and Captain Jonathan Archer canon interaction!! (Paul is fucking terrified of Archer)

#the new adventures of old christine #matthew kimble #richard campbell #hamish linklater #scott bakula #papas mistakeria special #I'm actually obssessed with every scene where they interact (2 whole scenes)#them interacting scratches a very specific part of my brain that likes both Midnight Mass and Enterprise #anyway PAUL AND ARCHER CANON INTERACTION!!

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angelic-muse · 6 months

Text

unforgettable

a/n: i couldn't not write anything for his special day, so enjoy, and happiest of birthdays to my silly mosshead man. this was written with both anime and opla zoro in mind so feel free to interpret it as either.

pairing: roronoa zoro x gn!reader

warnings: just fluff, not proofread

summary: it's your lover's birthday, and what better way to start the celebration than to stay awake and surprise him at midnight?

...that is, if you can stay awake.

must stay awake... must stay awake.

the sentence replayed itself in your groggy head like a mantra, a broken record stuck on repeat, a toy train running in slow circles around your brain as you fought the urge to tip over the line between wakefulness and sleep.

zoro deserved more than that.

"my birthday? never really done anything for it," he'd grunted the day before after you'd brought it up. the swordsman had frowned, scratched his head. "kinda forgot it was tomorrow, actually."

and it was then that you decided to make this birthday — and all his next ones, for that matter — unforgettable.

so after some pleading with nami that then lead to careful rearrangement of night watch schedules (despite the crew's grumbling), zoro would be set to finish his shift at midnight — exactly midnight.

and what would he find when he returned to his room? you, of course, waiting for the moment he stepped through the door to shower him in love and birthday wishes, followed by a day of celebrations just for him.

well, that was your plan.

but the actual staying awake hadn't been part of it.

since your shift for night watch was the last one, just before sunrise, you were lucky enough to be able to sleep soundly all night till then. which meant you were not at all used to being awake at this time and your body was slowly but surely losing the fight to fall unconscious.

you yawned, blinking heavy eyelids as you turned to squint at the sky, the gentle moonlight washing the deck of the going merry in its milky glow. it wasn't quite yet at its highest point — still not midnight.

surely a little lay down before zoro returned couldn't hurt, right?

don't fall asleep, you promised yourself one last time as you settled into his own hammock, breathing in the lingering scent of him with a sigh. don't fall asleep...

zoro muttered angrily as he stomped across the ship back to his room, not bothering to soften the loud thumping of his boots against the planks, swords clanking noisily at his hip.

"serves 'em right if they wake up," he groused, "putting me up there at this time all of a sudden for no fuckin' reason—"

he cut short as he shoved into his room, raising a brow at the sight that met him as he rid himself of swords and shirt. there you were, curled up in his spot, sleeping soundly like a contented cat.

"the hell you doing in my hammock?" he grumbled under his breath, but zoro slid in beside you anyways, throwing an arm over your shoulders and folding the other behind his head. he didn't mind that you were here — he never did. sleeping beside you was nothing out of the ordinary anymore. he liked it, enjoyed the easy comfort and security that came with you tucked against his side; hearts beating in time, every breath shared.

it was right when zoro was beginning to drift off that he felt you stir awake. cracking open one eye, he watched as you sat up, blinking tiredly. "zo... zoro?"

"what got you up?" he murmured as you yawned and stretched your arms overheard. "m'here, get back to sleep." get back to cuddling me.

"the smell of a pirate who hasn't showered in a week," you joked groggily, rubbing at your eyes. then you froze. shit.

shit!

"no, i fell asleep!" you groaned, burying your face in your hands. how could you? you promised yourself you wouldn't, for him, and now... "fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck... i'm sorry." you peeked back up at him, lower lip stuck out.

zoro frowned. "huh? what the hell you apologising for?"

"i was meant to stay up," you said sadly. "to say happy birthday to you. at midnight. that's why i got nami to change your watch..."

rubbing a hand across his face, zoro sat up to look at you properly, blinking sleep away. you went to the trouble of getting his night watch changed and stayed up in his room just to say happy birthday to him? seriously?

he'd be surprised, but really, that was just the kind of stupid, endearing thing you'd do.

and so he laughed.

you blinked at him as his wide shoulders shook with mirth, head tossed back. an embarrassed warmth crept up your neck and you folded your arms, attempting to glare at him even as you fought to hold down a smile. "wh— it's not funny!"

"nah," he grinned at you as his laughter died down. "it's just cute. c'mere."

you yelped in half-protest as zoro grabbed your head to pull into his chest, laying back down with a sigh.

"you don't hafta... stay up until midnight or do shit like that just for me." he uttered after a moment of quiet, brushing his fingers through your hair. "you need your sleep, and i need mine. so just... just wait until morning next year, yeah?"

"i... okay," you sighed, trailing a finger across his chest, drawing mindless patterns over scarred, tawny skin, making him suppress a shiver. "i still have stuff planned for later, though."

"yeah? let's hear it."

"i'm not ruining the surprise, silly. but... i did get you some presents and convinced sanji to bake you a cake. among other things."

zoro snorted. "bet that shitty cook did it for you more than me."

"probably," you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. "don't get jealous that he might love me more than you, it's okay."

the swordsman scoffed, turning you both on your sides with a grunt. "maybe, but he'll never love you as much as i do."

you chuckled, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; steel and sweat with an earthier undertone somewhere beneath. "i love you too, even though you still smell like you've never showered."

zoro barked out a laugh, tightening a thick arm around your waist to pull you further into him. "i'll take a shower for your birthday, how's that sound?"

you peered up at him and wrinkled your nose. he grinned.

"you're gross," you muttered with a smile even as you snuggled further into him. he kissed your forehead and you could feel his own smile against your skin.

"and you still love me."

"lucky you, huh?"

zoro exhaled softly, closing his eyes. "yeah, lucky me."

slowly, quiet draped itself over the two of you like the softest blanket, comforting and warm as the sounds of your breathing lulled each other to sleep after gentle whispers of goodnight and wishes of good dreams. and he rocked you in his arms, like how the gentle waves rocked you from below, mother nature's cradle for her sleeping children as they rested in an embrace so tightly woven with nothing but pure love not even the sharpest sword could ever hope to sever it.

and that morning, when zoro awoke to his dear lover smothering his face with kisses as they pulled him from his sleep with the promise of birthday gifts, he knew with clarity, such a deep, resounding clarity it made his heart ache—

that you, on this day and every other, were the greatest gift he could ever ask for.

nia's ask box is open!

#♡ — nia writes #zoro ♡#this is terribly unorganised and silly #and for that i apologise lmao #its currently 1am and i needed to get something out for the birthday boy #so please enjoy this incoherent jumble of words #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader fluff #opla zoro x reader fluff #opla roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece x reader #opla x reader

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jamespottersdaisy · 1 year

Text

It's nice to have a friend.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"No one loves a monster like me."

"I do."

warnings- cursing, the prank (with major changes), angst (?), my writing

13k

author's note:- i wrote this listening to taylor and lana. english is not my first language, so beware <3

"What time do you call this?"

You bit down your lips at Remus's flat tone. He looked up from his book with an expression you couldn't figure to be irritated or nonchalant.

"I'm so sorry, Remus. I got carried away with astrology," you said as you attempted to sit beside him. He quickly put his books on your seat with a loud thud. Fortunately for him, the library was empty.

"Then go and play with your stars."

"What?" you asked, a bit confused. "Aren't we supposed to study together?"

"We were. But you're late," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm only twenty minutes late," you furrowed your brows at his uncharacteristic rudeness.

He was staring at you as you glared back.

"You damaged your brain while studying Transfiguration without me, didn't you?"

You arched a brow uncomfortably, getting ready to talk again, but Remus's face softened and changed into amusement. The next thing you heard was his light laughter.

"Hilarious, prick."

"I'm a funny bloke," he chuckled as he lifted the books to grant you a seat, which you took.

"You're not really, James and Sirius are way funnier."

"Weren't you the one throwing a tantrum over their prank yesterday? You certainly weren't laughing."

"They died my hair to green! And don't act like you had no part in it."

"I only told them green is your favourite colour. Was I wrong?"

You blankly ogled his smirk.

"Green suits you."

"You know what suits you, Remus? Purple. Should I do something about it?"

To your irritation, his smirk widened. You turned your hand into a fist. "Which eye is your favourite?"

"I only have two."

"That's not an answer."

"Is there supposed to be an answer? The two are the same."

"Well then," you threw your fist at his eye, Remus raising his arm to protect himself.

"Did Sirius bribe you to hit me?"

"No, but he did offer me some galleons in exchange for your chocolate this morning."

"That was you?!"

This time it's your turn to smirk.

"Time is of the essence, Remus, we have to study." you opened a book before you, waving off Remus as he grumbled something under his breath.

You started to study together, helping each other occasionally.

It was a habit now; you two would study together every week for at least four evenings.

Remus was frustrated today; you could tell from his bouncing leg and twitching lips. But you didn't point it out; you knew he felt uncomfortable when someone coddled him. It was one of the perks of being best friends for five years.

From the first year of Hogwarts to the sixth year, you learned almost everything about Remus by heart. How he scratched the hairs on the back of his neck when deep in thought, or how he never looked up from his book while reading, even if his friends were trying to converse with him.

In return, he knew exactly what to tell you when you were overwhelmed by the studies or how to make you laugh when you were feeling like crying.

You two had always been there for each other, listening, understanding, and supporting one another through everything. You had stayed in the hospital wing all night for Remus when he broke his arm in the third year, and he had been there for you when you were burning with a fever two years ago.

There were too many incidents like these which you and Remus shared that proved the special bond between you. James, Sirius and Peter were also your friends, but with Remus, it was different; unique.

He had made you feel appreciated and loved, never let you down or never let anyone look down on you. Sometimes James and Sirius would mock you two for this affection, but that would always earn them a smack on the head from Remus.

You knew everything about him, and he knew everything about you.

Well, almost everything.

He didn't know that your affection for him was something more; It had been for quite some time now.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush because of teenage hormones or something, and it would fade away with time.

But it didn't. You grew out of 'I fancy Remus Lupin' to 'I love Remus Lupin'. Of course, you never confided in anyone about your burning infatuation, keeping it secret, burying it deep inside your heart.

The same secret that was fighting to break free from your heart's walls every time Remus smiled at you.

The same secret that was clawing from its grave to get up and fly, bleeding your heart every time Remus embraced you and called you a friend.

The same secret that prickled your eyes with tears every time you remembered that you weren't the only one keeping secrets.

He was keeping something from you, too.

You had always felt it in his eyes, glancing away when you would ask about a scar on his arm or a cut on his thumb.

The first time you fought on it was when you saw the huge scar on his face in the second year. You had worried so much that you pushed Remus's patience, and he had yelled at you. For twelve years old, it was a big hit in their friendship. You hadn't talked to each other for two weeks. In the end, Remus approached you to apologize and explained how the Marauders' prank had backfired, resulting in his scar. You had cried that day because of how much you had missed your friend. Remus hugged you tight, but you could swear you heard a sniff or two from him as well.

Remus would always say the scars on his body were because of a prank, and you would pretend to believe it.

Until this year.

You may be a Gryffindor, but you weren't stupid. You had noticed how he would disappear every full moon and "get sick." You didn't push him before because you thought maybe he needed time, but his distrust was turning the understanding in you into resentment.

It hadn't been to hard make speculations about the situation, but you wanted him to confide in you.

"Are you asleep with your eyes open?" Remus startled you, pulling your focus back to the present.

"Are you calling me a dolphin?"

"You two have a lot in common," he patted your head with his quill.

"Freakingly cute?"

"Freakingly evil."

You elbowed him but regretted it the moment he grimaced with pain.

"What's wrong?" you asked, albeit you immediately guessed another injury under his brown jumper.

He forced a smile. "You just proved my point."

"I didn't even hit you that hard!"

"You tell yourself that," Remus stood up, nodding simultaneously. "That's enough for today."

"Already? You sure you okay?" you worried a bit, standing up. "It's only been forty minutes."

"For you, lazy lady. I've been here for an hour, remember?"

"Go on, rub it in, or I won't hear the end of it until tomorrow."

You two were walking to the exit now with relaxed paces.

"Yeah, about that. I won't be able to study with you tomorrow."

You inhale a deep breath and huff it out.

Here goes nothing.

"Again?"

"Yes," his voice is rusty now.

"Why?"

"Marauders thing."

Same excuse as the last month.

You didn't say anything, giving him one more chance again.

"That's bollocks, Remus."

Remus simply curved a side of his lips to a tiny smile, almost unnoticeable to anyone. Well, anyone but you.

However, you were too irritated to mellow at his smile.

Only for one day, you didn't see him, and he had a new scar, and what a coincidence that the same day was a full moon.

"You really shouldn't curse."

"What truly happened to your arm?"

"Sirius accidentally cut it," he said for the third time that day.

"Stop lying."

Maybe you were wrong to push him like this, but you didn't care at that moment.

"I'm not lying, Y/N," he said before grabbing both his and your books and pressing them between his left arm and torso. "Let's go, we have class in ten."

When you didn't budge, his smile grew, and he stretched his free hand towards you.

"Come on, move your arse. We'll be late."

"You shouldn't curse," you said firmly, trying to look as angry as you could. You were on your limit and had no intention of backing off this time. "And I'm not coming with you."

"Why is that?" he pulled his outstretched hand back to the pocket of his trousers, wearing a soft expression, which his mocking tone contrasted with.

"You know why."

"I'm afraid I don't know why you are not coming to class."

"I will go to class, just not with you," you scowled at his nonchalance.

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"And why is that?"

"Because I've decided that I'm not talking to you."

"That's not fair."

"Yes, it is," you snapped, standing before him. You waited a few minutes for something, eyes narrowed. When Remus chuckled at your annoyed expression, you walked past him, hitting him with your shoulder.

Striding to the common room's exit, you ignored Remus's call. Only after leaving his sight, you fathomed that you had left your book with him but shrugged it off. You two always sat next to each other, and Remus was too nice of a friend not to bring it back.

"Hey, angry lady." his playfully soft tone danced in your ear, making your heart flutter in your ribcage.

"Go away."

"We're headed to the same class."

"Go away from me, then."

"I'm carrying your book."

"No one asked you to," you still hadn't spared him a glance but could feel the soft smile on his lips.

"No one needed to. I'm a gentleman."

"My arse."

"What about it?"

Your head snapped in his direction. Remus was smirking at you, acting like you weren't almost about to fight ten minutes ago.

You walked into the classroom from the door Remus held open for you straight to your seat.

"Give me my book back."

"You forgot the magic word, lady," he sat next to you. "You know, the one starting with 'P'."

"Petrificius Totalus?"

"That would also work, but I had something nicer in mind. Try again?"

"Periculum."

"What would you need the flames for?"

"To burn you."

"You're so violent this morning. Hadn't had your morning coffee?"

"Just give the bloody book back."

"Now that I think about it, you've been violent for the last three days."

You groaned when the professor started the lesson.

"Don't be bitter, Y/N," he pleaded, watching you snatch your book back. He hated when you were angry at him. "I already told you the truth."

"That's rubbish, and you know that," you whispered so the professor wouldn't hear you. "We're not twelve anymore."

"You were a lot nicer when you were twelve, though."

"And a lot stupider."

"Aye. You'll hear no argument from me."

You knew he was merely attempting to lighten the mood, but he didn't realise it only made you more furious.

"Why are you keeping a secret from me?" you finally blurted out the question gnawing on your insides.

Remus's smile ebbed. He exhaled sharply before turning away from you.

"I am not keeping anything from you."

"Then you must think I am gullible because that's the only explanation for you repeating the same 'prank injuries' lie over and over again."

"That's not a lie."

"Is there a problem?"

You clenched your jaw when you heard the professor's rough voice.

"No, Professor," Remus shook his head, ending the chatter.

You didn't talk for the rest of the lesson. However, to your frustration, you couldn't help but sneak glances in his direction only to find him doing the same.

The moment the class was dismissed, you immediately got up and left the room. The last half an hour in the boring potion class made you question some things. You were at odds with yourself.

And now, in the middle of the hallway, with your books to your chest, your mind was hosting a party for questions.

Was it really about you? Maybe no.

Did Remus deserve some secrecy? Maybe yes.

Did your infatuation with your best friend get in the way of your judgement? Breaking your heart not because he had a secret he didn't want to share but because he didn't love you back? No, of course not (It did).

But you deserved his trust. At least, that was how you were feeling based on the years of friendship.

Were you wrong? Probably.

"Y/N!"

You took a deep breath and blew it out as you turned to face Remus, who quickened his pace to catch up to you. He's smiling. Again.

"What?"

"You still pissed at me?"

"Yes? No? I don't know, Remus," you shrugged and carried on walking to the Great Hall. "I don't understand why you won't share it with me. Don't you trust me?"

"I do," he drawled, and you waited for him to continue. He hesitated at first but gave up after your determination not to make a sound.

"Listen, it's not something about you. I just don't like sharing it."

"Does James know? Sirius? Peter?" you arched a brow, desperately hoping for him to say no. You watched him he open his mouth and close it without a reply.

Well, that was it.

He didn't want to tell you, and you were supposed to be okay with it.

You nodded, hurt at something you didn't want to voice.

Remus stopped you from your arm, turning you so that you would face him. His hands made their way to your sulked shoulders and caressed them back to your hands to hold them tight, sending shivers through your body.

"When the time is right, I will tell you," he said. You looked up into his brown eyes, forcing yourself not to peek at his lips. You had always loved his eyes, and his lips.

"I promise. Just trust me."

You lowered your head, closing your eyes to the pleading in his words.

"I just don't understand why you don't trust me."

Remus stepped forward, letting your head lay on his chest.

"I told you, dove. This is not about you. Truly."

You knew it too.

You knew the reason you were so angry was not Remus but your love for him.

You knew you were not resenting Remus but your own inability to suppress your feelings.

So you nodded, hugging him back.

"What do you smell?" you asked Remus, trying not to sound too eager or excited. You were hoping he couldn't hear your racing heart and couldn't see your trembling hands.

Remus inclined his head to the potion, taking in the smell the Amortentia was radiating.

One, two, tree...

He frowned, looking lost. He clenched his jaw, blinking fast. Something must be wrong.

Six, seven, eight...

He cleared his throat, locking his eyes with yours.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

Remus straightened his back, curling the side of his lips upwards awkwardly.

"What do you smell?"

You gulp, lips parting and then closing and then parting again. You weren't sure it was the right thing to tell him what you smelled from the love potion.

Parchment, coffee, melting chocolate.

Everything that reminded you of him.

"I asked you first."

You sounded taut, internally having a fight between your heart and your brain over the control of your body, mind, and soul.

You didn't know what you wanted to hear from him exactly, but what you did know was that you were praying for it to be something, anything that would remind him of you.

"It's- it's nice," he simply said.

"Mine, too."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice so low that if you weren't so close to him, you wouldn't hear him from all the chatters in the classroom.

You longed to tell him.

Tell him and get it over with. Put down the weighing affection in your shoulders, your lungs and your heart, even if it meant having it broken.

You looked up at him, biting your lower lip so hard it almost bled.

Remus waited and waited and waited for you.

"It's uhm, it's parchment... and uh,-"

"Mr Lupin, are you two done with your potions?

You quickly put a distance between you and Remus. Professor Slughorn stood by the pot, smelling the potion.

"Ah, you are. Well done, you two."

You refused to turn back to Remus, your eyes examining every student in the classroom as Remus cleaned the desk.

James Potter was grinning at Lily Evans, who, in turn, had an unreadable expression on her face. You hoped Lily had smelled James; it would make your friend foolishly happy.

It was a bit chaotic in the room; happy, angry, sad and confused faces were scattered around. A student had even managed to blow up his potion somehow.

You saw Sirius and wondered what he had smelled, but soon your thoughts took a turn when you noticed Sirius was not alone. He was muttering something to Severus Snape with a devilish grin on his face.

"You guys have another prank coming?" you asked Remus, your eyes not leaving Sirius.

You didn't see Remus flinch and almost drop the knife.

"No? Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Then Sirius must be messing with Snape for his own amusement."

Remus hummed softly.

"I love James and Sirius, but was this really necessary?"

It was cold, and you were freezing, not because you had clothed lightly but because it was seven in the morning and in the middle of winter. Remus, seated next to you, was in no better condition. All because your friends insisted you watch them fly around on a broom.

"Well, he had said we were a great support."

"Do I look like any kind of support at this moment?" your teeth were starting to chatter. You closed your eyes at Remus's chuckle, hoping, wishing and praying that you would never forget its sweet melody.

"You look anything but."

You laughed at his words, totally oblivious, his gaze lingering on your smile.

"When is even this game?"

"In two weeks, that's the only thing Pads and Prongs talk about. Where's your head at?"

"I usually tune them out. They're disturbingly loud."

James screamed loudly at Sirius; you threw an 'I told you so' glance at Remus, who rolled his eyes in return. You liked when he did that.

"Try living in the same dorm room with them."

"Must not be fun since you're carrying the scars of the battle in your body."

"And in my soul," he nodded swiftly several of times. You adored the way his brown locks messed into each other, still looking fluffy. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm sweating," you snarked, peeking at Remus. Maybe you were wrong because he definitely appeared more decent than you were. He beamed at you, sneaking in closer, his leg brushing yours.

Without further ado, he pulled his arm over your shoulder, tugging you to his chest. Your breath hitched as his scent filled your mind.

You hated how your heart reacted every time you were this close to him; a hand away to hold his hand, a breath away to kiss his lips-

"Better now?"

You pushed the image deep into your mind, heat blossoming in your chest, colouring your cheeks.

"Cheers."

The next you-don't-know-how-many minutes later, the practice was over, and the players were now descending to the ground. Remus hadn't let go of you yet, not that you wanted him to.

You watched as James and Sirius joked around, Peter joining them later on.

"Hey, lovebirds! Come down!" James yelled, his hands around his mouth.

You raised your head to see Remus frowning at them before smiling at you, which you returned shortly as you stepped out of his warm embrace.

"Who's hungry?" James asked as you two also joined them and answered before anyone else could. "I am. Let's eat."

"Evans still won't tell me what she smelled in Amortentia."

"Drop it, mate. If she wanted to tell, she would've," Sirius slapped James's back before stepping into the Great Hall before everyone.

"If you push her, she might get irritated, you know," you reasoned with James, albeit you knew it was in vain.

"With me? Impossible, I'm lovely."

"Not to her, apparently."

"Not everyone has a Moony around to cuddle, Y/N."

Peter snorted and dodged the hit from Remus's hand.

"What? James, that's not even relevant!" you hid the crimson of your checks with feigned annoyance, refusing to glance at Remus.

"It doesn't have to be relevant," he shrugged, grinning ear to ear. You shook your head, grabbed a toast and didn't see Remus arch a brow at James.

"Where's Sirius?" Peter asked, making all of you turn around.

"He was there a minute ago, was he not?" you questioned, aimed mainly at James. If there was only one person you could ask about Sirius, and he would have an answer, he was James.

Obviously, not this time because James simply shrugged.

You were jealous. You had never been jealous over Remus until now.

You knew Lily Evans was his good friend, you liked her too, and you knew Remus would never even think about her in that way.

But still, you couldn't help but feel like you were on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to push you every time Lily would put her hand on Remus's hand, grazing the tiny cut lightly with her thumb. Your heart was a target to all sorts of knives when you heard Remus chuckle at Lily's words.

You couldn't help but wonder if she knew Remus's secret.

"Jealousy is not a good look on you, Y/N," Sirius cut your thoughts short.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you dismissed him with a shake of your head, pulling your gaze from Remus to the potion top. "Did you add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?"

Remus had always told you that you were the girl closest to him, and it would always stay like this. But you couldn't get rid of the doubts in your mind you were so certain that were emerging because of your feelings.

"Yes, stir twice clockwise," Sirius started working on Sopophorous bean juice. "I'm talking about Moony."

"What about him?" you bit down your lip and hoped your voice didn't shake when Remus's nickname startled your train of thought. How you loved that nickname...

"Others may be oblivious but don't be ridiculous, I see how you stare at him."

You didn't know how to reply to that claim, so you kept silent but turned your eyes to the long-haired boy. He smiled at you as if an encouragement, which almost crumbled your defences. You were on the verge of giving out.

Would it be bad if there was at last a person to share your feelings with?

"So, is it a monthly 'I fancy him' situation or..?"

"Something more," you finished for him, earning a croon. Here, you had said it with no guarantee that he would keep your secret but with the hope that he would help you carry the burden.

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only when you're jealous, love."

You nodded, smiling a little.

Sirius watched the way you were picking the skin around your nails.

"Hey, stop worrying. I'll tell no one."

Relief had hugged you at that moment, thankful that Sirius took your feelings lightly and didn't make a big deal out of it. Also, happy that you weren't alone anymore in this secret; you had someone capable of understanding.

"Sirius?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think he'll ever...love me back?"

He sighed, drying his hands. You felt his hands on yours, returning the gesture.

"You know Moony, he doesn't talk about feelings," you laughed bitterly, placing your head on his shoulder. "But he is a plonker if he never returns your feelings, and I'll make sure he gets a new scar if he ever hurts them."

"Thank you, Pads," you melt into his hug as you feel his arms around your waist.

"You smell of strawberries," he took a strand of your hair into his hand, sniffing it. "What shampoo are you using?"

"Stop smelling me like a dog!" you pushed him away, giggling when he gasped in fake hurt. "Focus, we still have to finish that potion."

Sirius carried on with his Sopophorous bean, and you looked around for a sloth brain.

"Did you forget the sloth brain?"

"I thought you were going to get it," Sirius shrugged, looking up. "Moony and Evans have one more. Go and grab from them."

You glanced at the pair, noticing that Remus was already staring at you. He didn't budge when you smiled at him and changed his focus back to Lily.

Red hair, green eyes, dainty freckles and graceful stature. Why did she have to be this beautiful?

You sauntered to their seat, passing near a bunch of students that were requiring the Professor's attention. Remus refused to look up to you when Lily offered you a kind smile.

"Hey, Remus, do you mind sharing an ingredient with me and Sirius?"

"You don't have it?" his tone was not kind, and his eyes were cold.

"I thought he was supposed to take it, but it turns out he thought I would take it," you mumbled real quick, still not fathoming the reason behind his coldness. "So here we are."

"You guys were pretty out of it. How do you even manage to get the job done?"

"We are doing fine," you frown. What was wrong with him?

"Yeah, I saw."

"Are you going to let us borrow the ingredient, or should I ask James and Pete?"

His gaze finally changed into something you couldn't quite name. He turned to Lily, who was trying her best not to pry.

"We won't need the spare," she consented in an instant. Remus dashed to the other side of the desk, clutching the jar and dashing back to you.

"Thank you," you mumbled as you clasped it in your hand. He merely nodded one time before carrying on with whatever he was doing.

You could swear you heard Lily whisper to him, 'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' before parting, but you ignored it.

You couldn't find Sirius when you were back, so you finished the last steps of the potion on your own. He didn't pop up when the Professor checked the work or when he dismissed the class.

"Why are you pissed at me?"

"Moony is pissed at you?" James hopped in as you made your seat next to Remus, who was busy with his meal.

"Yes–"

"I'm not."

You stared at him in disbelief and bemusement.

"You certainly are. Now tell me why."

When Remus looked at you, a smile inched his lips up though his eyes were still grumpy.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked.

"I-I don't know," your head sought him out, giving out in confusion. "How is he any relevant?"

You ignored James muttering, 'You really do like that word, huh?' as your eyes desperately tried to understand why Remus was being weird. But instead of an appropriate reason, all you got was a shrug.

You shook your head in dissatisfaction and stretched your arm for the pumpkin juice. Seeing your attempts, Remus's hand had already grabbed it and now was pouring the juice for you.

"Thank you," you whispered before clearing your throat. "So, we'll study together in the library again, right? Now that you're not 'angry'?"

Remus shook his head when you drew quotation marks with your fingers in the air.

"Today, yes. Not tomorrow, though."

You quelled the rising anger and heartbreak in your heart. In a trice, you twisted in your seat, facing James.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

He was taken aback by your sudden query. By the state of his full mouth and the bread crumbs around his lips, you figured out that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to you and Remus.

"Quidditch practice before breakfast?"

"In the evening, I mean."

"We're supposed to–"

"I wasn't talking to you, Remus."

Remus pursed his lips, cursing himself for not talking to James that morning. James's face crinkled in bafflement.

"I am supposed to finish my star chart with Sirius."

You nodded and glowered back at your best friend. James made a face at Remus behind your back as if asking what was going on.

"You don't take Astrology, Remus."

"I'll study with Lily tomorrow," he said, and you froze.

You were supposed to study together. You and Remus. Together. Like the way it had always been.

He wasn't supposed to study with the prettiest girl in the house. The graceful girl with a delicate smile and silky fire-kissed hair.

You didn't know when or how the familiar burn in your chest surged up, but you recognised what it was. You welcomed the acute sharpness of its thorns and the way it cut through your heart.

"Oi! Why didn't you tell me that? I could've finished the chart earlier and joined you!"

You tuned out James's protest. You wished you could tune out Remus mumbling to him, 'We decided in the potions.' too. But if there was one thing you could never turn a deaf ear to, it was Remus's voice; soft yet stern, melancholic yet hopeful. You wanted to tattoo the tune into your brain the way it was engraved into your heart.

You heard Remus call your name. You hated the way you loved your name from his lips. He had always chanted your name so gently, like an incantation, caressing your soul's most hidden-away parts.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't say no to Lily," he said apologetically.

"Yes, of course," you rose from your seat, offering Remus a smile you hoped covered the hurt behind your eyes. "I understand."

"Where you going?" he attempted to grab you by your wrist, but you were agile. You snatched your wrist away unobtrusively.

"I'm going to look for Sirius."

"Hiya, love," Sirius greeted you at the curtail step of the Grand Staircase. You had looked for him in the castle, but you stumbled on him when you finally gave up and decided to head to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you close to the end of the potions," you asked him, feeling a bit better now that you're out of Remus's company.

He shrugged, denying you the answer.

"You, too, Pads?" you stopped your steps, making Sirius do the same. He looked confused.

"I, too, what?"

"Somehow, I never get an answer to any of my questions these days, and it's bloody frustrating," you blurted out the grudge that had made home in you within a breath.

"Someone's getting ready to throw a strop," his mocking tone brought you to your senses. You pouted, sighing away the anger and resentment building up in your core.

"Don't sulk, love," he said as he dropped a hand on your shoulder, which impeded your movement on the stairs. "If it is any consolation, I have a problem with Snape."

"What problem?"

"You remember our last prank on him, right?" he smiled sheepishly. He continued when you nodded. "Right, so he may or may not have been trying to get back at me for it."

"So you two have been fighting like two little third-years for the last week?"

"Uh-huh," you rolled your eyes when he showed you his ridiculously white teeth. "I'm setting the ground for something big, but can't tell you, so don't ask."

"Fine."

"Your turn."

"It's silly," you cringed at the thought. Everything always made sense in your head until it was time to actually voice them.

"Good. Then we'll have a laugh. Come on, now," Sirius squeezed your arm as reassurance.

"Remus is a liar. Sometimes..." you purposely left out the once-in-a-month fact, "He stands me up, saying it's a Marauders thing-"

You held your hand up to interrupt Sirius, who was about to back up his friend.

"Don't. It is a lie. I know something is going on, and I have speculations, I'm not stupid, Sirius–"

"Never said you were."

"And it's okay, you know? We talked about it, and he told me he needed time, and I didn't argue. But now he tells me he isn't gonna study with me because he promised Lily, and I know it's an excuse because he couldn't use the 'Marauders thing' lie this time–"

"Don't forget to breathe."

"It's just...she's pretty and smart and–"

"In love with Prongs."

"You don't know that."

"No, but she will be, and you don't even need to worry about Evans. She's just a good friend of Moony."

You exhale heavily, begging for your endeavours to suppress the ache in your throat to work.

Yes, she was a good friend of Remus. But you're supposed to be his best friend.

Howbeit, more importantly, what was muddling you was the thought that Lily knew Remus's secret.

"I know, Pads. I just can't help it."

Sirius said the password to your common room and gave you the way first.

"You should talk to him, you know," he said as you threw yourself onto a sofa.

"And tell him that I'm ridiculously jealous because of his friendship with Evans, yeah?"

You smiled at Sirius's laugh. "I pity you, love."

You pitied yourself, too.

You grimaced when you felt the metallic taste of blood. Pulling your teeth from your lips, you pushed them together so the blood on them would dry.

You've been pacing around your dorm room, contemplating whether to get down to the library.

Part of you yearned for Remus's presence, while the other part wanted to avoid him forever, not ready to face and voice your thoughts to him. You knew he never left any quarrel unsolved, never letting you stay upset.

Ultimately, your love for him overwhelmed your resentment, and before you knew it, you grabbed your book and ambled down the stairs.

Your knuckles were white from clutching the book hard when you entered the empty library. The only thing you could think about was if Remus was going to be there.

And he was.

He raised his head from his book the moment you crossed his sight, brown eyes full of different emotions that you couldn't sort.

You chose to ignore how his leg was bouncing and how his hair was way messier than usual.

He softly smiled at you when you sat next to him. You smiled back.

You hoped maybe he would act like everything was alright and you wouldn't have to think about your feelings.

But you inhaled sharply when he didn't.

"We're fighting a lot these days," he said, looking at your fingers rather than your eyes. "I hate it when we fight."

"We didn't fight."

"It may not be a fight, but," he took your hands into his, "I know you're hurt."

When you kept silent, he took this as his cue to go on.

"I'm sorry, dove. I should've known it would hurt your feelings to stand up our evening studies."

"You know well that it is not the matter," you said, pulling your hands back. "Stop acting like you don't."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific."

Dozens of questions raced through your mind, but you only managed to ask the one tearing you apart with jealousy. You pushed to voice that screamed at you, saying 'you're being too blunt' back in its place.

"Does Lily know your secret?"

Remus sighed. He parted his lips and then pushed them back together. You fathomed that he was getting irritated from the twitch of his hand.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't bring this up again–"

"Does she?"

"She does."

"You told her."

"She figured it out herself," he arched his brow at you eloquently. You despised the meaning behind that expression. It mocked you, claiming that you were not as bright as another.

"Of course, she did," You turned your side to him and opened the cover of your book. Little did he know you had figured everything, too. Except, you waited for his confiding.

"Alright, that's it," Remus shut the cover back to regain your attention. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Y/N, you've been picking fights for the last bloody month. And I try, I really, really try to be patient but I don't understand what your problem is."

Your face wrinkled in confusion.

"Remus, what are you talking about? We were fine until this morning."

Remus held back for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe. But we're having the exact bloody conversation every once a month, and it's getting on my nerves."

This was the last straw for you. Getting on his nerves?

You had been patient with him since the day you became friends.

You had been understanding towards him every time he pushed you away when he was upset and pulled you back for support.

You had been gentle with him every time he snapped at you before full moons and every time he broke your heart after full moons.

And you had been loving him for the last five years, first as your friend, then as a boy, despite his flaws, blemishes and imperfections.

And now he couldn't even handle your resentment?

Anger climbed its way to your chest, burning down every wall you've ever built to keep your heart's secrets hidden away.

Words were scattered across your mind, ready for you to use them as your weapon against the pain havocing in your soul.

You couldn't keep anything in anymore.

"You know what's getting on my nerves, Remus? You being a liar–"

"I am a liar?"

"Yes. Yes, you fucking are. You have been lying to me for the last five years, and I've been bloody patient.

You think you're being patient? Well, try being best friends with yourself. Someone who lies to you, keeps secrets from you, but tells you you're his best friend, and then fucking repeats everything again."

"I asked you to give me time!"

"And I did! I've been understanding towards you and acted dumb every time you gave me nonsense excuses like you did today."

Remus shook his head.

"You're being selfish."

"I am being selfish?" your eyes widened in disbelief. He truly had the gall to call you selfish after five years of his lies, excuses, and your espousing only for his sake.

"It's not always about you, you know. I just wanted to spend some time with Lily tomorrow, it's not an excuse."

You sniggered, awed by the way he could lie so easily.

"How come even Evans knows you better than me?!"

Remus clenched his jaw and rose up to his feet. You knew he was trying his best to keep himself collected, not to take out the anger on you, but you had had enough. You looked up to the veins popping up on his neck from your seat when he raised his voice.

"She figured everything out herself! It's not my fault that you can't do that!"

"So, now I have to try to solve you out by myself? That's not how friendships work, Remus! You're supposed to trust me-"

"No! I don't have to do anything! I've had fucking enough. I don't owe anyone anything, including you. Remus this, Remus that. Everyone has something they want from Remus. Everyone rubs their so-called favours and sacrifices into my face, always demanding something in return-"

"I've never even once harped on anything I did for you! I only wanted you to open up to me-"

"And the only thing I asked from you was patience! Fucking patience!" he dashed at you, grabbing you by the sides. "But here you are, bringing up the same bloody thing every month like a broken record! So yes, you are the most selfish girl I've ever met!"

His words cut through your heart like a sword, the same sword you had placed in his hand.

You looked at his dilated pupils and how they almost swallowed the gentleness of the brown you always loved.

You blinked the tears away that were threatening to invade your vision and swallowed the lump in your throat down.

Patience, he had said. Time, he had said. You were selfish, he had said.

An unfamiliar surge of acrimony washed you down, anger flaming in your chest. Its white flames swallowed your love for the boy whole, echoing his words from nothingness.

You pushed him away as hard as you could. He tottered a few steps back, eyes softening at your raged visage. In a blink, you were up from your seat and closed the distance between you two.

"You want patience? I have been patient when you let everyone in but me. I've been patient when you pushed me away in the second year after learning about your father. When you snapped at me for worrying about you. When you yelled at me because I wanted to touch the scar on your face."

Remus parted his lips, but you held your hand to stop him from talking. With every sentence, your tone was soaring, the tears were prickling your eyes, and you had let go.

"Don't interrupt me! I'm not done. I gave you time when you got 'sick' every month and didn't let me see you or when you cried in my lap but refused to talk to me later. I gave you time when you didn't speak to me for days because you were angry and when you lied to me every month because you didn't trust me enough!

You want time and patience?!

I have given you my time and patience for the last five years and have been loving you for the past three, Remus! So don't you ever dare to call me selfish!"

You snapped your mouth shut, letting the wave of fury and relief wash over you. Remus's eyes changed into something new, something you had never learned about him.

Only then did a stronger feeling hit you: dread.

You had confessed your love for him.

His eyes were heavy with emotion, the crease between the brows still reminding you of his anger, while the benign brown lit up the hope inside your soul.

"You what?" a whisper left his mouth, so low that you wouldn't be able to hear it if it wasn't dead silence in the library.

You didn't repeat yourself. You didn't even reply to him. You simply turned away and dashed out of the library.

xxxxx

When you woke up the next morning, all you could think about was that it was a full moon today.

You didn't think it would be a good idea to see Remus today, but you were worried about him. You wished to know how he was, where he was, and how he would endure this night. Would he have new scars the following day? Or a headache? Did he love you back?

So many questions and not enough answers.

James and Sirius were in the Quidditch practice, probably Remus and Peter as an audience. You had decided not to join them this time, trying to drown the chaos in your mind with homework instead. Or maybe you were too embarrassed to acknowledge Remus.

Anyhow, one can only tolerate writing an essay to one point.

You slapped your book shut, groaning to yourself when you relived your last memory with Remus. Yesterday was the reason why you hated being angry; you would either cry or lose control of your mouth. And since you had bone both of them in one evening, you were planning on rotting in your room. However, your short span of attention was not helping. With every sentence you managed to put together, Remus's brown eyes would pop up in your mind.

You glanced at the weather; grey clouds and chilly wind. Who would even want to be outside in this weather?

James (and maybe you).

You shook your head and decided that maybe rotting yourself until everyone would forget about your existence was not a good plan, as it was getting boring. Checking the time, you smiled because the Quidditch practice should be finished by now. Thus, you got up and left your dorm room. If only you could make it out of the common room without being seen by Remus.

Sauntering down the stairs, you slowed your steps. Before revealing yourself, you checked the common room and saw James and Peter laughing. No Remus or Sirius. You wondered if Remus told them about your love confession. You hoped not.

Stopping into the room, you made your way to them, putting on a genuine smile. You tried to suppress the anxiety rising in your throat and reminded yourself that these boys were your friends.

"Look who's here," James narrowed his eyes at you. "The traitor."

"I missed only one practice, James."

"He and Sirius are way more dramatic today. James almost asked Evans to marry him this morning."

"Seems like a normal morning, Pete," you said, even though you couldn't help but chuckle. "Where's Sirius, though?"

"He went to see his brother. Said he'll be back in ten minutes or something."

You hummed at James, pushing your lips together.

"And Remus?"

"With Evans, I wager."

The familiar burn in your chest resurfaced.

"I'll go find Sirius. See you guys later."

"You have a death wish, I see?"

You jumped at Sirius's voice. As opposed to what you said to James and Peter, you didn't go looking for Sirius. Instead, you were strolling around the castle yard. You liked how the frigid air sent shivers down your spine, it was refreshing. And you, without a doubt, needed refreshment.

"How'd you know?"

"You're walking around in nothing but your sweater?"

You smiled and shrugged, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, he removed his black leather and placed it on your shoulders. You caught the burn on his hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

Sirius glanced at his hand shortly and yanked it back into the pocket of his trousers.

"Ah. Nothing. Snape and I had a little duel just now."

"Sirius, this is getting out of hand. You need to stop."

"Yeah, don't worry. It's going to end tonight."

Your heart dropped.

"What do you mean?"

He burst into laughter, worrying you more.

"I'm going to scare the hell out of that prick, he'll never dare touch me again."

You attempted a smile, though you weren't sure it came out smooth.

"What do you mean?"

Sirius turned to you, patting your arm with his fist. "Don't worry about it. Tell me what made you take a walk in such weather."

Now you were both worried and uncomfortable. Embarrassment was burning your ears up, making you wish that the ground would split in two and swallow you whole. However, you decided to bury the worries and awkwardness. You deserved someone listening to you, after all, so you shared everything with him.

After a few gasps and woahs, you quietened while Sirius was contemplating what to say and how to say it.

"You haven't seen him since?"

You shook your head no.

"Well, he was grumpy this morning, but I don't think it's related to you."

Yet, you were certain that it was related to you.

He was grumpy because he was angry at you. He was grumpy because he didn't return your feelings, and you made him uncomfortable by confessing them. He was grumpy because you just shattered your friendship. Or maybe he was grumpy because it was a full moon.

"I think he hates me now."

Sirius snorted at your declaration. "You're one hell of an overthinker, aren't you?"

When you didn't reply, he pushed you with his side softly, "Hey, come on, it's Moony we're talking about. He can never hate you."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Yes, I can. Remember in the third grade how he literally hated all of us for burning his paper?"

"I mean, he wasn't exactly wrong. We did destroy two weeks' work."

"Exactly. He rained hell upon us for a month. Well, most of us. He didn't touch you, and whenever we would ask him why, he would hit us before saying, 'It would hurt her feelings'."

You smiled at the thought of thirteen years old Remus coddling you.

"I didn't know that."

"You don't know why James changed his wand last year in the middle of the semester, either."

"I thought he broke it."

"Nah, Moony broke it."

Your eyebrows shot up in bewilderment, amusing Sirius. He nodded before resuming to talk.

"James had a brilliant idea to cast a spell on you that would twist your tongue every time you talked. Remus wanted to waver him from it, but he was stubborn, that bastard. So before he could cast the spell, Remus broke his wand in our dorm and made it look like an accident to James."

Your smile grew wider, your eyes tearing up from intense emotions. Remus always knew about your anxiety, and he had always cared enough to help you through it. Whenever you would fidget with your fingers because you were about to give a big speech, he would put his hand on yours to calm them down. Whenever you would sweat because the professor was criticising you in front of the whole class, he would touch his knee to yours to let you know he was there. Whenever someone would make fun of you, he would be the first one to stand up for you.

"I didn't know he had it in him."

"Oh, he has a lot more in him when you are the matter," Sirius side-hugged you, letting you lean in. "You can ask him if you want."

You frowned, about to ask him what he meant but stopped in your tracks when your eyes sorted Remus from the other side of the yard. He was with Lily. Before you could ask Sirius to return to the castle, he yelled from the top of his lungs to make himself heard.

"Oi! Moony!"

"What are you doing?!" you whisper-shouted at Sirius, who was dragging you to Remus's side.

"You can't avoid him forever."

As you got closer and closer to his side, your heart picked up the pace. You didn't feel ready to talk to him today. You were sure you wouldn't be ready tomorrow either.

Lily waved at you two when you made it to their side. You noticed the bags under Remus's eyes and his bouncing leg. You refused to lock your gaze, focusing on Lily's glorious smile. Still, you could feel his burning gaze piercing your heart.

You had tuned out their talking, alerting your mind only to Remus's presence. You didn't hear Lily's giggle or Sirius's mocking tone; you didn't even care what they were talking about.

You only cared that Remus was bouncing his leg, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temple.

You longed to put your hand on his leg to calm it down, hold his hand so that he would stop hurting them, and kiss his temple so maybe it would tender the ache.

Your heart was burning up in your chest, clenching in agony. The agony of being so close and yet so far away from him.

Every tune around you was muffled, slave to even a whisper from Remus, but he wasn't making a single sound.

You had lost count of how many heartbeats were beating in your chest, wasting time by beating away from Remus's heart.

Suddenly, they stopped.

"I have to go," said Remus.

His hoarse tone shattered everything into nothing.

He got up from Lily's side and walked back into the castle. You didn't follow him.

You missed his voice.

The weather was dark and still cold. You clung to Sirius's jacket more tightly. He hadn't asked for it back and said he would take it from you tomorrow.

You should return to the common room; it was neither safe nor clever to wander around at night. And you did. You turned around and started striding to the castle, only to flinch when you saw a figure exiting it.

It was hard for you to distinguish the person, so you followed him. You waited for the light of the full moon to reveal the silhouette's identity to you. You bit down your lip when you saw Severus Snape sauntering towards the Whomping Willow.

He must've lost his mind.

Your heart fastened with Severus's every step, dread of what was about to come sending tremors down your body. Your fingers itched in anticipation.

You hid behind a bush and watched him with terror. It was dark at night. It was a full moon. You were near the Whomping Willow.

Why did you even follow Snape?

When he finally crossed the safe proximity, the tree started moving. Your hand covered your mouth, your eyes unable to blink.

You waited for the tree to frantically shake and sway its branches. You waited for it to injure Severus or maybe even kill him.

But it didn't.

The moment it started to move an inch, it stopped. You thought maybe Snape had cast a spell; you could only see his back.

He slowly approached the tree, disappearing into a hole under it.

You rose to your feet and took a few steps towards the tree. You felt uncomfortably vulnerable at that moment, standing out in the open where you could get attacked by every side and wouldn't even be able to prevent it.

What if the tree starts moving when you're near?

Where did Snape go?

Should you even be here?

If there was only one question you knew the answer to, it was the last one.

You wanted to return to the castle and forget about all this in the morning. You truly did. However, you figured that there was no turning back when you heard a howl and a scream coming from the hole.

You jumped back with fear, oblivious to the yelp that left you.

Your first instinct was to run. Run away as fast as you could, without looking back, but something deep in your conscience didn't let you flee.

What if Snape was alone out there, and he needed help?

What if he was injured?

You cursed under your breath and took one more step towards the tree.

Your heart was pounding in your ear, competing with the sound of the howl down on the ground. You convinced yourself that it was the fear that made the howling sound closer than before.

One, two, three.

You exhaled sharply and started running to the hole.

You prayed that the tree wouldn't move.

Your legs made a stop before you could fathom what was happening.

More than one figure emerged from the ground, but your eyes only saw the big, ugly beast. Moonlight was glistening through its thick grey fur, displaying a horrendous sight. The tawny glow in its eyes was impossible to miss, as well as its tall and scrawny bone structure. The snarls from the beast were threatening to change into something more dangerous.

Snape was screaming. You could swear you heard James, your name or maybe your own scream too.

However, your eyes never left the beast.

You had seen it in the pictures. You knew what it was.

A werewolf.

Remus.

And it was planning to attack Severus.

Your Remus.

You took out your wand, not even once looking away from the beast. Your mind was chasing every charm you've ever chanted, looking for the best one for the situation.

The beast pounced on Snape with a growl.

Snape slumped into the ground.

The beast towered over him, ready to attack.

You aimed your wand at it, screaming the first thing that came to mind.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

You had diverted the beast's attention, presenting an opportunity for James to save Snape.

"No, Y/N!"

When James's cry tore your mind from the shock, you understood that you had made a mistake.

Spells don't work on werewolves.

A gasp left your mouth when the werewolf directed its attention from Severus to you. You didn't see Snape fleeing or James carefully walking to you. All you could see was the icy light in its eyes glaring at you, sending sheer panic down your spine.

You hesitated to make any more sound, no matter how much you wanted to yell James's name for help.

You didn't know how to fight werewolves, no one had ever taught you that. You didn't want to die, either.

The growl from the beast intensified, sending you enough signals that the inevitable was close. With your every step back, it was taking a step forward.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

"Y/N RUN!

And you did.

You ran until your lungs gave out, your legs crippled, and your heart burst.

You ran until your eyes watered from the chilly air, your nose hurt from the sharp breaths, and your ears echoed the beast's growls.

A branch cut just above your cheek, but you didn't stop.

You ran until you lost control of your mind, giving it up to your body, performing purely under adrenalin.

But the beast ran with you, too. It followed you into the forest, howling and growling, letting you know death was close. Letting you know that the screams drowning in the night were in vain. Letting you know that the tears staining your face were in vain.

Your breaths mingled with your screams, your hair getting into your mouth. Sweat and tears melded into each other, burning up the cut on your face.

Before you could understand what had happened, your body hit the cold ground with a thud. Your eyes clenched shut, taking in pain vibrating through you. You felt the soil staining your face and body. Your weeping turned into a shriek when you felt yourself yanked into the dirt on your stomach.

Your eyes widened with fear when you finally fathomed the claw grabbing your ankle. It dragged you back, hoping to get the claws on your throat, too. Your fingers dug into the earth. You fought to free yourself from the beast. The jagged stones on the ground gashed your forearm. The dirt stung the gash. Your blood glistened under the moonlight. The beast howled. It turned you on your back.

Remus, Remus, Remus.

One last cry left you. The beast raised its claws, towering over you.

Remus.

You closed your eyes. The tears didn't stop.

Moony.

A high-pitched whine soared in the sky. You were sure it didn't come from you. Something hit your hip. You opened your eyes.

A stag.

A stag stroke the beast with its horns in the underbelly, tossing it away from you. The stag jumped over you, attacking the werewolf again. Animalistic voices ascended in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.

You crawled behind a large rock and took deep breaths. You knew you had to run. This was your opportunity to flee for your life, but you had exhausted your body. You needed time to recover.

The growls and whines never stopped. They got louder and quieter. Closer and farther. You didn't know.

You raised your head. The Moon was gleaming, casting light your way as if telling you to get going. You couldn't. Not now.

You lowered your head at your hands. They were filthy with dirt, the soil blackening the insides of your nails.Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶g̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶d̶u̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶a̶r̶t̶h̶. You moved your left arm, checking the backside of your forearm. T̶h̶e̶ ̶j̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶a̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶a̶r̶m̶. You winced at the scar and the fresh blood around it. Y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶g̶l̶i̶s̶t̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶o̶n̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶.̶

Without warning, a sob left put your mouth, startling you. You pressed your uninjured hand on your lips, listening around. The voices had stopped. Neither the stag nor the beast was there. You were safe.

Your hands didn't leave your mouth, so terrified that if they did, you would make a noise and lure in the beast again. You knew your body was reacting to the shock and exhaustion, but you despised the tears flooding from your eyes. You needed to get it together and leave the Dark Forest. Albeit the beast was gone, the forest was still dangerous.

You stood up with a groan, not lowering your wand for protection. Your clothes were spoiled, and you were hurting. You looked around to find a familiar way back to the castle.

"Y/N!"

You aimed your wand at the voice, your heart retaking the pace. The voice was familiar, but you were not in the right mind to identify it.

"It's me, hey. Lower your wand," James's gentle voice weakened your muscles, your hand shaking and breath hitching. Relief surged you from head to toe.

You didn't remember when you dropped your wand into the ground and threw yourself into James's warm embrace. You only remembered how he soothed you as you sobbed with exhaustion.

"You alright?" he put a hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist to check you out after you pulled away from the hug. You nodded, feeling his gaze on your injured arm.

"Where were you?" You didn't recognise your own tone, rasp and brittle.

"Here. With you."

Something hit you in the gut. A realisation twinkled in your mind, finally comprehending the depth of 'Prongs'.

"You were the stag."

He smiled at you. "I knew you were a bright witch."

James Potter being an animagi wasn't the first priority for you tonight.

"What happened to..." you couldn't let out the rest of the sentence. The beast. R̶e̶m̶u̶s̶

"I led it back to the Whomping Willow."

The next moments passed with silence, you two walking together to the castle and James subtly keeping his hand behind your back to make sure you were fine. You relived everything from the beginning, this time making sense of the incidents. You had so many questions and even more feelings gushing in you.

"I don't understand, James."

"Hmh?"

"Why was Snape there? Where were Sirius and Peter?"

You heard James clear his throat. His tone changed from gentle to furious in a moment.

"Sirius told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow. That bastard thought it would be a good prank. He told me later because he had started to second-guess himself," he retorded, "Peter was also there, you just didn't see him. I sent him to make sure Severus gets into the castle safely."

No.

You shook your head, not believing your ears. This couldn't be what Sirius meant by handling the Snape problem. You didn't want to believe it. Not because you were thinking too highly of Sirius but because you imagined how devastated Remus would be the next morning. You knew how much he trusted his friends.

"Remus..." you muttered under your breath, earning a hum from James that signalled him thinking the same thing.

"Sirius will be in big trouble. I'm sure Snape had already run to Dumbledore."

You turned to James with widened eyes, he talked before you could panic.

"Don't worry. He didn't see me as the stag or see Peter at all. That's why I was belated. I'm sorry I couldn't make it there sooner."

"Thank you for even making it there," you whispered, closing your eyes when the castle entered your sight. You avoided thinking about the possibility that James might not make it in time. What would happen then was something tragedic you never wanted to admit. "Will you see Remus tomorrow morning?"

James looked at you with such intense emotion that you thought he was pitying you.

"I will but–"

"I want to be there with you."

"No, Y/N, listen," he scratched his chin. You stared at him in question.

"I will have to explain everything to Remus tomorrow. And by that," he said, "I mean everything."

"James, I want to–"

"No. I don't want you to be there when I tell him how he almost killed you. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to be there either."

"But it's not his fault–"

"That's not what he's going to think in the morning. I'll talk to him alone. Don't insist."

This was the most serious you had ever seen James Potter. Thus, you knew he wasn't going to back down. So, you didn't insist.

By the time you were in the common room, your body had calmed down, now only exhibiting exhaustion symptoms. James hugged you one more time before sending you to your dorm room.

"Shower with warm water and go to bed. I'll be in the common room if you can't sleep."

You wanted to ask him why he didn't go to sleep, but you couldn't even part your lips. So you simply offered him a weak smile and headed straight to the bathroom. The girls in your room were already asleep, meaning you had to be extra careful not to wake them up.

You scoffed at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Frantic hair, shrunk pupils, a cut on your cheek and dirt on your face. As if all these weren't enough, the gash on your arm was throbbing with pain, blood staining your sweater and maybe even Sirius's jacket too.

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water clean you thoroughly. You clenched your teeth to suppress the groan you wanted to let out of pain from your cuts. The black dirt left you as the water stroke down your body, helping you get this night out of your skin.

Your eyes were glued to the dirt getting washed away, harking back to how the beast hauled you onto the ground. Your skin still remembered the burn from the rough friction.

You couldn't close your eyes, you couldn't even blink. Every time you did, a pair of two glistening yellow eyes would stare at you, threatening to hunt you down if you kept your eyes closed a second more. If you thought about the beast a little bit more, you were sure you would have a panic attack.

So you let your mind wander around something else.

Brown locks, chocolate eyes and pink lips.

Your lips curved when you recalled his soft voice, the way he called you dove. You warmed up, and not because of the water but because of the memory of how Remus gently stroked your hair. How he wiped away your tears. How he braided your hair perfectly after begging Peter to teach him. How he had always given you something hand-made on your birthdays because he couldn't buy anything.

You missed him. You missed the gentle smile he was always offering you. You missed your tender bickering and his teasing innuendoes.

You had missed your best friend, and no matter what would happen tomorrow, you were going to talk to him.

You couldn't sleep well that night. You even had a nightmare about what happened.

James was late in the dream; you died in the end.

So you stayed up all night, only being able to dive into sleep when the air was lightening up, turning into sapphire blue. At the same time of the day, Remus was turning back to his human self. You would chuckle at the irony if you weren't sleep deprived.

When you woke up, your heart was hammering in your chest. Your roommate was beside you, a glass of water in her hand. You felt sweat drops in your neck and temple; you must be having another nightmare, then.

She offered you the glass, which you gladly accepted.

"Thank you," you said rather hoarsely.

"It's almost five in the afternoon, hun."

You sat up in your bed, brushing your hair back with your hands. You had a terrible headache.

"It is?"

"Aye. You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Lizzie, thank you," you smiled at her before leaving the bad. You were both grateful and uneasy that you had missed the most part of the day. This meant that Remus had already learned about the prank.

You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You looked way better than yesterday night, undoubtedly. Your face had gained its colour back, and your frenzied eyes were glistening with something other than horror. The only flaws were the small cut on your face and the new eyebags.

You got ready and went down to the common room. Because it was Sunday today, the common room was crowded with students.

Your eyes searched any of the Marauders but failed. They weren't here, and you were hungry. You made your way to the Great Hall, accompanied by nice growls from your stomach. Fortunately for you, it was dinner time.

You were too focused on the food before to find yourself a seat, so you didn't notice anyone approaching you. You flinched when a kind hand touched your arm.

"Y/N?"

"Oh, hiya Lily."

The red-haired girl smiled at you with emerald eyes. She pointed to a corner around the table with her finger. "Potter asked me to call you."

Your eyes found James, who looked as tired as you but still managed to put on a simpering smile. "Cheers," you said to Lily.

You sat next to him, stuffing your plate. Your stomach growled harder at sight.

"How are you feeling?" James asked, watching you nibble on a toast.

"Have been worse. You?"

"Have been worse."

You knew what you had to ask him, but you also knew you needed your appetite at the moment, or you would starve yourself. So you simply hummed and hastened to finish your meal.

You tried not to think about the two empty seats as you sipped your drink. James and Peter were having small talk, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't listen to that either.

You swallowed your last piece as slowly as possible, delaying the inevitable. James looked at you briefly, and you understood what it meant. He raised from his seat, having you follow him.

When you two found an abandoned corner, you turned to him, tuning out the racing of your heart.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" he pointed under your eyes with a nod of his head. You shook your head.

"Did you talk to him?"

Unfamiliar gloom darkened James's features. "I did. Told him everything."

He glanced at you before averting his eyes away again. "He just listened. Thanked me in the end and said he wanted to be left alone."

Your heart clenched in pain. You didn't want him to be left alone. "Where is he?"

"Dunno. Didn't look for him."

"Where's Sirius?"

James stayed silent for a few seconds. "Dunno, either. We had a fight, but my guess is somewhere in the forest in his animagi form."

You didn't dwell on it any further. You loved Sirius, but you loved Remus more than anyone. Albeit you weren't furious at him, you still didn't plan on seeing him any sooner.

"I need to talk to Remus, James."

"I truly don't know where he is."

You had to find him. You had to find him and tell him that it wasn't his fault.

You nodded at James, mumbling a quick bye before wandering around the castle, trying to figure out where he could be.

He wouldn't go to the library. It would be an easy guess for anyone trying to find him.

James said Sirius would be outside of the castle. You were sure Remus wouldn't risk encountering him.

That left you two or three places that you knew Remus would run whenever he wanted to avoid people. So you got going.

You didn't find him at Room of Requirement or Hospital Tower. You cursed the school for being this large in area. It took you almost an hour to get from one side of the castle to another. Fortunately, you were sure Remus was on the Astronomy Tower.

As you got closer and closer to the tower, anticipation chased your heartbeats high, your hands fidgeting with their fingers. You took a moment to regulate your breathing, which had no effect on your pacing heart.

Without wasting one more moment, you entered the tower.

There he was, sitting on the ground, his head low between his hands. Around him was cold and dark, gleaming with the light from the Moon and stars. Your heart ached at the sight of him. You stepped forward, letting the sound of your footsteps alert him. He didn't acknowledge you, but you were sure he had heard you. Heartbreak burned through you, maiming you because of the distance between you two.

Your steps stopped next to him. He still hadn't looked up to you but hadn't asked you to go away either. So you sat next to him, raising your head to gaze at the stars while his head was low between his hands.

"The stars are beautiful, Remus."

He didn't budge. He didn't even move. You peeked at his chocolate-brown hair, suppressing the urge to mess with them.

"Your hair looks nice today."

Silence. You didn't know if he was ignoring you or simply ignoring everyone, and it wasn't something about you.

"Doesn't your neck hurt?"

"No."

You gulped when his voice echoed in the air.

"It must hurt if you've been keeping it like that for a long time."

"It doesn't."

"Liar."

Silence again. You yearned for his voice once more.

"You can put your head on my shoulder, Remus."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away, dove."

His voice was fragile and pleading. It broke your heart, shattered it into million little pieces. A lump made its way to your throat.

"Why?" you asked, a voice as broken as your heart. "I don't want to go away."

"But I want you to," he loosened his fingers from his hair, dropping them to his lap.

You turned to him. "Don't push me away, Remus."

You reached for his hand, but he gently pulled them away. "Remus, please."

He shook his head, still not looking at you.

"I need to know why you don't want me here."

He left your side, ambling to the parapet of the tower and leaning to it. You stared at his back in disbelief.

"Remus-"

"Go away, Y/N."

"You won't even look at my face when you kick me out."

Finally, he snapped his head and locked eyes with you. His eyes looked tired, blazing into yours. He had a new scar under his lower lip, from James's horns, probably.

"Go away."

You stood up, frowning in annoyance. "No, I'm not going anywhere," you took stern steps in his direction and closed the disturbing distance. "We need to talk, Remus."

You adored his amber eyes despite your annoyance. You loved to dive into its depth and get lost, sorting out every colour one by one.

He stayed where he was, but you detected his eyes lowering from your eyes. He stared at the cut above your cheek, clenching his jaw.

You unconsciously turned away and hid it from Remus. Memories flooded in a blink and raised the panic inside you. You could still feel the wind hitting your face and the sting from the branch that cut your skin as you fled for your life from the beast.

"It's nothing," you uttered.

Remus scoffed at your face. You saw his eyes change into something harsh and his brows furrow.

"Yeah, sure. The cut in your arm is also nothing."

You didn't ask how he knew that. After all, James did tell you that he would let Remus know everything.

"It'll heal."

"And why is it there in the first place?"

Remus took a step forward when you didn't answer.

What were you supposed to say? Because his wolf form chased you down, and you got injured trying to flee?

"I'll tell you why," he said, voice raised. "Because I hunted you down, tossed you to the ground, and yanked you around. I only did it so I could kill you."

"No–"

"Is that what you wanted to talk about? How I'm a bloodthirsty monster whose first instinct is to kill?"

"You weren't yourself."

"What would happen if James wasn't there?"

You pushed your lips together and closed your eyes. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

"No, open your eyes," he raised your head by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Tell me what would've happened if James wasn't there."

You blinked away the tears that were threatening to invade your vision. Remus made you relive the same nightmare you had that night over and over again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you to understand! I need you to understand that I'm not someone you can fucking love!"

You startled in your place, both by his anger and claim. Something had burst into flames inside you now that he had finally acknowledged your feelings.

You opened your mouth to quarrel, to tell him he's wrong, and that you loved him more than anyone or anything in the world. But he didn't let you interrupt him.

"You think I haven't thought about what you said in the last two days? You haven't left my mind for even a bloody second!" his tone was raised but broken.

"You were the one pushing me away!"

"Because I wanted to keep you away from all this shit! I wanted you to see me as something other than a cursed boy. Why do you think I never shared that secret with you?!"

"That secret is part of your story, Remus. If you thought that I wouldn't love you with it, you must've been out of your mind."

You didn't think he understood the depth of your love for him, and you needed him to understand. It didn't even matter if your feelings were not returned.

He shook his head no.

"No one, Y/N, no one loves a monster like me."

"I do," you pleaded.

Words weren't enough to convince him or express your love for him, but you were trying.

He took your arm in his hand and pulled the left sleeve of your sweater up, revealing the gash. You tried to pull your arm back, but he overpowered you, tightening the hold on your arm. You grimaced when his fingers pushed on the scar.

"This is what happens when you love someone like me."

You used your whole strength and tugged your arm back. You marvelled at your tone when you spoke.

"Stop it! You weren't yourself, Remus!"

"How does that even change anything?!" he screamed, his voice breaking and his eyes tearing up. "Don't you understand? I am a danger to you!

"Remus–"

"You think this is easy for me?! I have fucking lost my mind these last two days because you were the only one in it! My brain wouldn't think of any name other than yours! My heart wouldn't beat for any name other than yours! And when I am finally ready to tell you that I love you, too, James comes and tells me that I almost fucking killed you!"

His eyes were blood red, and the veins in his neck had popped up. Tears left his red eyes and paved the way down from his jawline to his neck.

Remus was crying.

It was a sight you had never got used in the last five years.

Your mind refused to work, denying to comprehend the words that left his mouth. It was all too much, and all in one moment.

"You love me, too?'

You didn't recognise your own voice, probably because all you could hear was Remus's confession. You expected your heart to race this time also, but instead, it was dead silent. Or maybe you were just too focused on Remus's eyes.

His tears never stopped, and he never tried to stop them.

He was breaking down at last.

You walked up to him and closed whatever distance was left. You looked up into his eyes as he lowered them to you.

"But you didn't kill me," you whispered, bringing your hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes, raining more tears on your hand. You gently wiped them away.

"I'm here, Remus. I'm here, and I'm telling you that I love you. I don't love you despite your curse, I love you with it."

Remus scrunched up his face, letting out a sob before sinking his head down your shoulder. You felt his tears on your neck.

At that moment, you knew no words would ever soothe the storm in his heart.

So you held him as he bawled like a child.

His crying sent daggers to your heart, ripping it open.

You begged for his pain to become yours so that he would never hurt the way he was hurting now.

You didn't know how many minutes past. All you knew was Remus's sobs and whimpers hurt you like nothing else ever did.

You didn't let go when the heavy sobs turned into heavy sighs or when the tear-fall in your neck turned into warm breaths.

You caressed his hair and kissed his neck when he calmed down. When he talked, it was gritty and low.

"I'm a monster, dove. A monster that will tear you to pieces if you get near."

"I love you," you whispered. You felt him let a short, breathy scoff to the crook of your neck.

"I attacked Snape last night like a beast."

"I love you."

"I almost killed you."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You shut your eyes, breaking your face into a tiny smile. Four words, one sentence, and his lips close to your neck was all you needed for revival.

Remus inched away from your neck, lingering his lips next to your wound. The red in his eyes hadn't worn off, but the brown of his eyes was blazing with affection.

You drew a sharp breath when he kissed above your cheek.

He caressed the nick lengthwise with tender pecks. His hand grazed your other cheek while the other one made its way to your waist.

You held your breath when he lowered his lips, hovering them above your lips. His hot breath tingled your face, you fought the urge to close your eyes.

He whispered your name, and that's when you gave in. You closed your eyes and unknowingly parted your lips.

One second lasted one year.

Something flamed up down in your chest when you felt Remus's soft lips on yours. He kissed your lips gentle and soft, but short. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, chestnut brown darkening with every second.

"I love you," he whispered.

Within a blink, his lips crashed into your lips again, this time more intense, more passionate, taking away the air in your lungs. You melted to his touch, letting his lips savour yours while his hand on your waist tugged you closer. Your breaths mingled together, leaving your heart fluttering in your ribcage.

If time had stopped and trapped you at this moment, you wouldn't complain.

You craved his scent on your soul, his touch on your body and his lips on your lips. But most importantly, you were more than glad to be buried in his love.

He pulled away and smiled at the way you filled your lung with air. You felt his thumb caress your face.

"There's no getting rid of me, now, dove."

His smile was tired, his eyes still carrying the heartbreak of yesterday. You knew he was still a broken boy inside, but you loved him anyway.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!

if you enjoyed my writing and this fic, please, buy me a cofee <33

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somnambulic-thing · 5 months

Text

This fic is part IV of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

masterlist

messy Eddie Munson x gn!Reader with vagina&boobs, we're early/mid 20s, E 18+

Words: 6.4k

||contains: established relationship/former best friends, outdoor sex, piv, oral, teasing/edging, a little crying, light biting&scratching we're playing with: cum, slick, spit (no spitting tho) and blueberries in various consistencies; fluff, domestic, silly, food mention/eating: it's a picnic situation || you can always dm me and ask for more details

A/N: Oh my god, I finally did it. I've been working on this story since mid-June and it was actually where my ruminations about this universe started. I have no idea why this took me so damn long. I imagined the vision I had for this scenario would fit into something around 3k-ish. Look how that turned out. It's just a lot of sex and a lot of silly banter.

I have to thank @bettyfrommars and R for the help with that story. I probably would have deleted it without you a long time ago

soundtrack

Comments and reblogs are so appreciated you have no idea.

“You have cum in your hair, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s voice, deep and soft and a little raspy, is full of pride; his eyes full of bliss and adoration.

You smile down at him, stretched out on his back with his arms folded beneath his head, the only remnant of his live-wire-brain a slow bop of his feet which are crossed by the ankles.

He’s just as naked and sweaty as yourself and equally covered in the traces of your lust.

You reach out to tug on a sticky strand of wavy brown hair, twirling the end slightly between your fingertips.

“So have you, Munson.”

Eddie hums and nods like that’s good news and closes his eyes.

The wrath of the August sun can’t reach you in your little hiding spot, it only drips through the canopy of the poplar above your heads, heavy and thick like honey, leaving dancing specks of gold scattered all over his pale skin. You try to trace the ever-changing outlines with your fingertips the way you like to trace the ink, your feathery touch leaving goosebumps behind.

“We should venture to the lake,” he says with a lazy smile. “Go for a swim. Clean up this debauchery.”

You lower down to kiss the corner of his mouth as a starting point for the only journey you’re interested in right now; down the sharp edge of his jaw to his throat. Here you follow the string of purple bruises left by your greedy mouth and it leads you right to the dip of his collarbone. The hum swelling low in his throat turns into a sigh when you trace the shape of it with your tongue.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not yet,” he says and cups the back of your head, softly scratching your scalp. “Guess we basically just got here… we have time…”

…

It’s hard to tell the time on days like this. If not for the movement of the sun you wouldn’t be sure that it still existed.

There is a special place for the two of you where the laws of nature seem to bend around your togetherness. A space where it’s safe to strip off masks, armor and cloth, to let the other tend to those tender spots that ache from neglect or need and so often both.

It had always been there, created in the aftershock of your collision when you had become friends over night all those years ago. Eddie had been so easy to be around, so easy to trust with your dreams, quirks and secrets. In return, he’d given you pieces of himself too to keep safe, knowing you would treat them with more kindness than he often could. The presence of that space was always perceptible around you like a softly hummed melody wherever you went. One of you just had to pry it open with an inquisitive look or urgent touch and drag the other in behind them.

Today it had been Eddie.

You had followed the sound of tiny rocks against your windowpane and found him outside with a stuffed backpack over one shoulder and a dragon-slaying guitar clutched in one hand, wildflowers in the other.

“What’s the occasion?” you had asked, sensing something nervous in his smile when you flung yourself into his arms.

“It’s a Saturday and I love you.” He had scrunched up his nose in that silly way he always did when he tried to find the right words for important things. “And I want to fuck you where I picked those flowers.”

It had been a short drive and a short hike later when you saw the first spots of red and blue, sprinkles of white and yellow dance in the breeze and recognized them as the same flowers that now waited on your windowsill for your return.

“Almost there,” he’d said and you had felt the seconds slow and stutter as Eddie’s fingers intertwined with your own, tugging you towards the high grass and right through it, heading for the small clearing by the trunk of the tree and into its shadow.

“Nobody will see us here,” he’d said, arms tight around your waist. “Promise.”

You really hadn’t cared either way as Eddie nudged at your jaw with the bridge of his nose to gain access to your pulse.

There had been a moment - albeit brief - where you’d wondered if one could hear you from the path outside the field where time still existed when Eddie plunged his fingers into you, deep and urgent, his praises and your moans mingling, drowning out the birds and bugs lurking around as your back arched off the giant red plaid blanket he must have bought for this very occasion.

And then, finally, the rest of the world was erased from your mind when he chanted your name again and again, knuckles white from clutching the blanket in trembling fists as you swirled your tongue around the hot tip of his cock in slow dragging teasing circles for an eternity until he couldn’t take it any longer.

…

You smile against his skin, revelling in the soft noises he makes for you when you lap up salty sweat from his chest, when you flick the tip of your tongue against his nipple and in the way he squirms and begs for you to kiss him.

“Please, please, please…” he whimpers as you take your time kissing up his sternum, ignoring the tug in your hair, making sure to worship every patch of damp skin on your way to his lips. Eddie groans, so impatient, so greedy and you want to swallow him whole so you do the next best thing; you bare your teeth against his neck and bite him.

“Holy fucking…” he breathes in sharply but tilts his head up further. “You beast.”

You lick the tender flesh above his collarbone before you blow cool air on it to soothe the bite.

“Too much?” you ask with worry, pushing up to find his dark eyes waiting. You see the flicker of his plan in them the second before he flips you over and pins you down.

“Never.” His nose presses into your cheek before he nips at your jaw. A pointy knee nudges at your thigh and you spread them willingly to let him back between them. “That’s why I’m done begging for more now…”

“Oh no, I’m in trouble…” you try to tease but your voice strings out thin as he moves down your neck and chest; kissing sucking biting. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours and the hunger in them pulls your insides into a tight knot you can’t wait for him to untangle again.

“Let’s earn that clean up at the lake,” he says, his tongue leaving wet glistening trails of spit on your skin all the way down to your hips. There he gifts you a set of pretty teeth marks to remember him by before he settles on his stomach between your thighs, wrapping his arms firmly around them. “Let’s make a mess.”

You prop up on your elbows for a better view. “How will this differ from the average Munson pussy-eating endeavour?”

“Oh, sweetheart… you challenging me?”

“I guess I am.”

He shakes his head like you’re a pitiful thing, grinning sharply; it’s obscene with the way his mouth hovers over your pelvis close enough for you to feel his breath in the sticky hair above your slit. Your hips twitch upwards in response, impatience flaring up between them and his grip on you tightens.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts and shakes his head.

There were days when he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on you, cursing each garment that stood between him and the taste of you. But Edward Munson could be unyielding once his mind was set on a particular thing. Painfully so.

“I have a vision here and I need you to hold still.”

“I am,” you grumble, knowing you are not. “As good as I can with you breathing on my pussy.”

“The sooner you comply, the sooner we both get our treat. C’mon. Be good.”

You finally obey and relax, voicing a low, soft “please, Eddie” aimed to break his determination. His lips part in a cunning smile before he sticks out his tongue as far as he can, long and wet and pointed. Hovering.

“I’m not moving,” you whine.

Eddie’s brows lift - demanding patience - and he looks like a demon that way; wide eyes, gaping mouth, teeth bared and spit slowly running down his tongue.

“Oh.”

It’s agony, watching a bead of spit collect at the tip, hypnotizing how it grows and grows and the seconds stretch, just as much as the viscous liquid, before it finally drips down onto your clit and runs down to one side. There’s no controlling it; your hips try to buckle and the pretty pink tongue disappears behind a smile that’s all teeth and tender cruelty and still connected to you by a string of spit.

“Please…”

Eddie chuckles deeply, sticks out his demon tongue again and you force your body into stillness instantly. This is what possession feels like, you think.

“Please, Eddie, please, please, plea—“

The first gentle lick feels like little more than a breeze over your clit, barely nudging it, but it makes your jaw drop and your arms shake. A long stretched whine spills from your mouth as he repeats it again and again and again, adding slightly more and more pressure each time. His eyes are fixed on yours, intense, almost unblinking, and so very dark. It’s adding heat to the electric shocks his teasing sends up your spine. You channel the urge to move, to grind your cunt against his mouth into a pitiful hitching moan.

“Christ, your face…” Eddie groans, stopping his sweet sweet torture, fingers kneading your thighs short of painful. “Could come just looking at you like that.”

“I know,” you breathe out. “Love when that happens.”

He loosens his grip on your tighs, and brings one hand around between them. “I aim to please,” he says with a wink and points a finger gun at you, blowing imaginary smoke away before he shoves the barrel of it inside you.

And then he’s devouring you.

You fall back, your arms finally giving in as the sensation pulls you under, overwhelms you after all the soft teasing. He’s moaning against your cunt and it doesn’t take long for him to undo you again, knowing all the motions by heart that take you out of this world.

Your fist stirs up fine dust as it thumps the ground when he stops seconds before you can fall over the edge.

“No, nonono, why?—“

But Eddie is not listening. “Fucking dripping for me,” he marvels at his hand covered in your slick. He spreads his fingers and watches how your arousal forms shiny strings between his knuckles.

“You’re evil—“

“But my evil methods always get you off so much harder,” he says casually sliding two fingers back inside you while wiping the other hand on your stomach and his glistening mouth on your thigh.

“Fuck—“

A soft smile is curling his lip while he curls his fingers inside you. Your hips twitch up and Eddie uses the moment to press a soft kiss to your throbbing clit.

“Messy, messy pussy,” he sighs dreamily.

You can’t but laugh.

“You’re suuuch a weirdo,” you say softly and run a hand through his hair. You can see the praise lighting little fires in his eyes.

“Well, thank you,” he chuckles darkly. “It’s really inspiring that it gets you wet like that.”

You lose count of how many times he gets you close to the edge again just to pull back and cover you in sticky kisses to your thighs and hips and belly, to run his soaked fingers over your breasts and up your neck over and over.

Every inch of your skin feels sticky, every fibre of your body thrums like vicious reverb when he crawls up to you, eyes wild, lips and chin drenched and glistening with your wetness and kisses you.

“You good?” he sighs, sucks your lower lip between his teeth and pulls until it stings just so before he lets you answer.

“M’ on fire is what I am…”

“Good.”

“You’ve won. I’m such a mess, please, please fuck me.”

The desperate scratch of your nails on his back, makes his head drop to your shoulder and turns his low deep laugh into a moan. It’s contagious, spreads to you as he rolls his hips against you, his hard length sliding through your swollen lips, dragging over your clit.

“You smell like home,” he whispers against your skin as he pushes in, slowly, softly until he’s fully nestled inside of you. Your breath is unsteady, hitches as the pleasure of being so full of him pushes everything else out of your mind.

“Do you feel that?” he brings his forehead to yours, pulling out almost all the way, giving you that full sweet stretch again as he sinks back in. “How perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Feels like home,” you say and feel him smile as he kisses you. It’s slow and dragging at first and he stays close, burying you under his weight and his face in your neck as he buries his cock inside you again and again and over and over with growing speed and urgency.

“C’mon, fall apart for me,” he grits through his teeth, “I got you, always got you.” He peels himself away from you and sits back up on his shins. With his hair forming a wild dark halo around his head and your purple marks scattered over his skin the sight alone of his thrumming, sweat-glistening body straining to bring you to the peak of pleasure is pure ecstasy. His thumb finds your clit, slow dragging circles contrast hard fast thrusts and if you’ve been on fire before, you’re blazing now, hot enough to forge steel.

“Don’t stop…”

“Won’t…”

“So close…”

“I know. Me too…”

“So good…”

“So fucking good… come on… come for me…”

Your heels dig into the ground lifting your twitching hips off the blanket as the searing heat spreads through your pelvis like wildfire. Eddie moves up with you, melts into you, is one with you, fingers digging hard into your flesh to hold you where he wants you to fuck you through it. The world is not a place but a raging pulse and all you can do is surrender your body to him. It’s easy.

He’s your heart anyway.

He carefully lowers your hips back to the ground, smoothing his palms up and down your sticky thighs while you come down from your high.

“Look at me!”

Your lids are heavy as you blink to clear your view from a few stray tears.

Eddie tilts his head, searching your face with curious eyes, tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he backs away slowly, leaving you empty. There’s not much time to mourn the feeling as he swiftly straightens your legs and straddles your thighs.

“What—“

“Shhh, just watch,” he rasps out, licking his lips as he wraps his fingers around his slick, throbbing cock. His voice breaks, strings out thinly—

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—“

— as his fist works his flushed tip with precision and a rapid pace. The hair around the base is slick with your ecstasy and as your gaze wanders up his body in search of his face you find it a beautiful display of his own with his jaw slack and brows knit tightly.

His thighs tremble, then twitch and the blur of his hand regains its shape when with a few last long strokes and wide, teary eyes, he spills himself over you again and again in hot thick bursts of white.

The impact of his pleasure brings him off balance and he slumps forward. Your praises are hoarse, insignificant sounds lost between Eddie’s sobbing moans and you run a hand up your body to aid him spread his mess all over your skin while the other hand finds his face to caress a bright red cheek, to brush sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I love you so much,” you tell him.

Eddie sighs softly and turns his face into your hand, presses a long soft kiss into your palm before he sits up and throws his head back to take a deep breath. Above him, sun and wind are engaged in a play, turning the canopy of the tree into a writing, shimmering mass and for a moment, this feels like a dream. Then he sways like the branches, a goofy grin the last thing you see before he lets himself slump down next to you with a thump that makes you wince. He just hums contently, pressing his face to your sweaty neck.

“That was nice,” he mumbles, peppering your jaw with kisses.

“Yeah, uh-hn, really, really nice.”

“Dare say the nicest one yet.”

“Hmm, think I just saw your soul leave your body for a moment.”

“Hmm,” he hums and slings an arm around your waist. “My soul looks great on your tits.”

There is a beat of silence before you both break out in silly giggles, turning into laughter, turning into exhausted kisses and sweet words while Eddie’s soul dries on your skin in the warm summer air.

...

You make him drink some water first because he always forgets and while you have some yourself, Eddie conjures up a meal from his magical backpack.

“I made your favourite,” he says, opening a stainless steel container to reveal a pair of thick sandwiches. “Got some other stuff too.” He hands another container to you. “Just in case… could probably feed us for the next twenty-four hours.”

You remove the lid and find it filled to the brim with blueberries. You lift it to your face to draw in air laced with the sweet, earthy smell of the berries.

You hum with anticipation, mouth watering as you pick one large plump berry and pop it into your mouth, the rich, wild sweetness of the forest exploding on your tongue. “So good,” you sigh and a soft smile curls up the corners of Eddie’s lips. “I take it Wayne was lost in the woods again for a week?”

“Aye,” Eddie chuckles, eyes darting between your eyes and your mouth where two more berries just found their demise. “Must have been a good year. That madman collected enough berries to fill a bathtub with.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

He holds up his thumb and forefinger just enough so that a berry could fit between them. “I would call it embellishment.”

You huff and put the container down. Leaning forward, stretching out long over your waiting meal, you place a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thank you,” you say close to his ear. “This is wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

A hand comes up to the side of your head, holding you in place. Eddie turns his face to you, nudging your noses clumsily together. His tongue glides along your bottom lip before his mouth finds yours; a kiss so gentle it feels almost timid.

He releases you with a peck to the corner of your mouth. You watch him lick his lips as you sit back, his eyes are turned down and there’s that wrinkled nose again. You’re about to ask him if there’s something on his mind when he snaps out of it in the blink of an eye, grinning from cheek to cheek and the thought fades from your mind.

“Bon appétit,” he announces with a flourish of his hands.

You mostly eat in silence, leaving the stage to the quiet sounds of nature, recharging while the shadows slowly creep further and further away as the sun makes its journey towards the horizon. There is the occasional protest when you’re stealing bites from each other’s food as well as sighs of appreciation over a simple meal that equates to a feast without even trying.

“Open,” he says, a berry between his fingertips and you pull up your brows.

“You don’t have a good enough aim for that game.”

“And I won’t get any better without practice,” he says with a grin oh so sharp, a voice oh so seductive. “So, love of my life, open. Please?”

It’s hard to stay still like that for long when Eddie is huffing and puffing as he’s missing your mouth over and over. Berries keep hitting your cheeks, your forehead and a few bounce off your lips before he finally lands one in your mouth. He pumps his fist and you applaud him; for effort and perseverence.

“My turn. Open,” you say and he obeys eagerly.

The first one is a miss, the next four find their target with precision.

“You’re cheating.” Chewing much more than one berry requires, Eddie eyes you with his trademark up to no good-expression.

“How would I even do that?”

“Sorcery,” he says, and flicks a berry at you that’s hitting you right between the eyes.

Eddie clasps a hand over his mouth as you wince, eyes comically wide in his shock, breath stuck in his lungs. Before you know you’re doing it, you reach for the berries, feeling some pop between your fingers as you load them up and fling a handful of the sticky ammunition at his chest.

There’s a hollow thud upon impact, followed seamlessly by the smacking of skin on skin as Eddie clasps his hands over his heart, face a mask of anguish and disbelief displayed with such sincerity you’re almost tricked into feeling bad over your attack.

“Crit… hit…” he croaks out before his eyes roll back into his head as he collapses.

You’re on your knees, crawling over to where he lies motionless with eyes closed and mouth ajar. He doesn’t move, makes no sound when you mount his hips right beyond his soft cock that lies now snug against your inner thigh.

There’s dark pulp sticking to his chest; unlucky stray berries squashed in his throes of death. The smudge connects two hickeys, forming one large nebula in a galaxy of bruises. It’s beautiful, the complex hues of blue reacting with his smooth pale skin, turning the mess purple around the edges.

You just sit and stare.

“Wanna have a taste?” he says, one eye cracked open in curiosity before he opens them both. “Clean me up?”

A blush appears high on his cheeks, giving away his anticipation, just like the glint in his eyes and the hands kneading your hips.

“Don’t think I will.” You run your fingertips over his skin, from navel to neck and back again; slowly, softly. “Only fair that you’re a little filthy too.”

“Come on,” he purrs, “have a treat.”

“Nu-uh.”

His nostrils flare, his ribs expand to greedily suck in air and with it, all the mirth and silliness. Suddenly the air feels thick and crackling like in the wake of a storm.

“Alright, alright, I hear you,” he says calmly and reaches for the berries across the blanket.

“There,” he says, his clenched fist oozing purple juice and bits of skin. Dark drops run down his arm as he squeezes the berries to a sticky pulp before he coats himself with the mess from chest to throat. “You can leave some behind.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” you say with the calm of a preying beast and lace your hands with Eddie’s dripping fingers.

“Oh nooo,” he mimics you from earlier and grins like a blade. “I’m in trouble.”

Leaning down slowly, you pin his hands to the ground next to his shoulders. “There will be teeth.”

“W-was coun-ting on it.”

The stutter in his breath is delicious, a first taste of what’s to come. You want to make him whine and writhe under your hands and teeth, you need him crying and shaking and out of his mind.

His nipple is already hard when you flick your tongue against it and sweetness fills your mouth as you lick and suck and tug on the sensitive thing while your fingers find the other hard nub and pinch. Eddie barely breathes. He sucks in all the air he can get, then holds it holds it holds it before he lets it out as soft groans and moans. His fingers flex hard against the back of your hands, nails biting your skin every time you take your teeth to him.

You reach between your bodies and follow the trail of hair down with a featherlight touch to find his cock hot and hard and waiting. You slide your fingertips along the soft skin like a breeze, barely even touching. Eddie’s hips buckle up—

“Shit— hnng…”

— and you take the sensation away. Eddie’s face is flushed, his voice pressed through his teeth.

“Please…”

You lap at his skin, bit by bit uncovering a deep blush that’s more of a crimson compared to the bright red where his skin isn’t stained. He tries to grind against you but you lift your hips—

“Please…”

— and sink your teeth into his shoulder, over and over, inching torturously slow towards his neck. Some bites you kiss better, some you leave to sting a little longer. Desperate hands scurry over your arms, your back, your hips trying to pull you against him. Strands of hair stick to your face that must be stained up to your nose by now. You pull back for a moment and Eddie’s hands find your cheeks—

“Pleaaase…”

— to pull you into a kiss. You press a quick peck to the side of his mouth, then marvel over the shape of your lips printed there like a blue shadow.

“Fuuuck, you’re so gorgeous,“ he rasps with dazed eyes and chases your lips again. You press your foreheads together before he can succeed and his frustration is a cool draft on your wet skin as a long groan spills out of his mouth. “Please, please, lemme taste you, I really want to—“

His pleas are sweet and thick, just like his neck that taunts you with taut tendons and the slide of his Adam’s apple when he swallows hard around his desperation. You’re all over it, raking your nails down the sides while your tongue slides up right under his chin and—

“Fuck, no, wait, fuck—“

— everything moves as Eddie sits up and pushes you with him.

“Are you oka— hng—“ He stops your inquiry; fingers digging into your chin, keeping your mouth from closing, freezing it mid-vowel.

There’s this look again. His gaze flicks between your eyes and mouth until he’s just staring at your berry-coated tongue.

So you open up a little wider.

He moves slowly; it’s almost timid when his tongue finds yours and steals a little sweetness from you.

“Weird?” he asks, softly nudging your nose with his while holding you in place to keep you from swallowing. You barely shake your head before he’s back for more with a bruising kiss that’s full of nipping teeth and greedy tongues. Most of the remaining berries find a sticky end between your bodies before they are lapped up from various body parts and shared through devouring kisses.

You’re grinding your hips against his lap enough to make him shiver and moan but not enough to get him close to the edge and you’re determined to keep it that way until he’s losing it with desire. Which doesn’t take too long.

“You trying to kill me?” he whines with his head dropped to your shoulder.

“Just a little… as the French say.”

He groans. “I’d like to go out soon then, if you please.”

“No.”

He groans again and bites your shoulder. “M’ so fucking hard.”

It’s just a subtle shift of your hips but the next three, four times you move them, Eddie jolts and curses enough to damn whole bloodlines. You reach into his hair to pull his head back so he has to look into your eyes and you take a moment to admire the mess that he is; blue and purple and flushed red in between, jaw slack and breath stuttering under your gaze.

“On your knees. Palms to the tree.”

You lift off and Eddie scrambles to all fours to get into position, knees placed wide apart. There are stains on his back in the shape of your hands, layered over a pattern of slightly raised lines left by your nails.

Eddie’s shoulder blades ripple under your gentle kisses as you embrace him from behind. You run your hands down his belly to the V-shape between his hip bones and a little further to cup his balls with one hand while the other traces a thick vein on the underside of his cock.

You chuckle into his shoulder when he sighs with relief as you wrap your fingers firmly around him and start to stroke him oh so slowly. You don’t keep it slow for long, couldn’t keep it slow without stopping him from thrusting into your fist but you don’t want him to be still; you want him twitching and trembling.

Eddie takes care of the pace and your fingers do all the things that drive him crazy, your wrist twists just the right way and he’s holding his breath again, every muscle in his lower body ready to snap and so you loosen your grip before he can.

His head drops, a fist hits the bark of the poor old tree—

“Godfuckingdamnyou—“

“Shhh,” you whisper close to his ear. “Good things come in threes—“

“M’ not— can’t— hm-m, please—“

You wait another moment for him to calm down, or to hear the agreed-upon words that tell you he really can’t take any more teasing but they don’t come. He just breathes hard and shallow. You swipe your thumb over the hot tip of his cock, rub soft circles over the sensitive slit that dribbles under your touch.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say and tighten your grip again.

The next time he’s about to burst, you just let go of him—

“Fuck— fuckfuck, fuck you—“ he whines, hips thrusting into nothing and he sinks against the tree, resting his forehead against its roughness.

You caress his back, smother him in soft kisses and hold him close with gentle hands.

“Regret being cocky?” you ask, watching a bead of sweat run down his spine.

“Fuck you—“ he chuckles groggily. You think it sounds a little wet. “Never regretted a second spent with you, demon.”

“That’s just the impending orgasm talking,” you tease, a beaming smile pressed against his skin where he can feel it.

“I dare you to fucking make me come and I’ll tell you again— ah— Christ…“

“God, I barely touched you,” you say slowly wrapping your fingers around his aching cock. “You’re really sensitive now, hm?”

This time, the wetness in his laugh is unmistakable. “Oh, you think?— Hmmng, that’s gooood, please, please don’t stop!”

There’s no more frantic thrusting into your hand; Eddie finds just enough strength to push himself back from the tree to make it easier for you to reach where he needs you.

You work him slowly, no need for fast strokes when he’s crumbling like this and you know exactly where to rub and squeeze and circle to take him apart. High-pitched whines and groans mix with something that sounds like pieces of bark chipping from the trunk of the three. You drink in every noise, every twitch, every oh-so-small sensation; it’s all intoxicating.

Eddie is vibrating. Every atom in his body tuned to a frequency only you can receive. He’s begging you for a kind of mercy that one must be ready to receive.

“If your eyes are closed, I need you to open them now, Eddie. I need you to watch.”

“Oh g-god…”

“Good boy.”

You shift your stance slightly to one side and reach through his spread legs from behind to find that firm, plump patch of skin right behind his balls. Circling your fingers without any pressure, you let him adjust to the sensation first—

“Oh shit—“

— meanwhile, you press his cock flat against his belly, your palm stroking the underside, your thumb placed to grace his frenulum with every slide and—

“Shitshitshit—“

— it doesn’t take much; one two three circles against the tender spot and his breathing stops, four five six and Eddie turns to stone in your hands—

“Come on, Ed, make a mess—“

— and then he comes and comes and comes all over himself.

...

The setting sun sets the sky ablaze.

No pinks, purples or blues; everything is swallowed by a deep, burning orange that turns the surface of the lake into a raging inferno and in the middle of it all, floating on his back, is Eddie.

You’ve been watching him drift along for a while now - long enough for your skin to be as good as dry again - and if it wasn’t for the opposite shore that separates the sky from the water, you would worry he could just drift off into the sky and vanish between the few stray clouds that dare enter the flames.

It’s a fitting scene, you think, as you rewind your memories from the day over and over, matching the heat spreading from your chest into every last corner of your being.

Out in the water, the arsonist turns over and disappears, feet kicking up a small splash of water. You wait and watch until he emerges again a good distance away from where he dove in before you get up from your spot on the lakeside and cross the small distance to the van that’s parked right behind the treeline.

The back doors are wide open, left that way in your hurry to get into the water and you climb in to grab your Polaroid in an attempt to capture some of the colours before they turn into endless blue.

You cover the flash with your palm, listen to the motor eject the picture and tuck it out quickly to let it develop safely in the darkness of a worn copy of The Hobbit that lives in the back of the van. You leaf through the pages that shelter the pictures you made earlier that afternoon.

Two are a little blurry, one is overexposed because you left it face-up in the sun after the noise from the camera woke your subject from his slumber. He’d been curled up against your chest and upon waking demanded instant attention in the form of head scratches. All the pictures are full of colour - blues and purples, mostly - and blissful faces. Even the teary ones.

Looking at Eddie’s bright, sleeping profile makes you aware that the tiredness started to slowly creep into your limbs. You put the book down and get busy shifting stuff around to make room for the fold-up mattress and prepare a bed for the night.

You’re sitting at the foot of the mattress with your back to the lake, unrolling a sleeping bag you probably won’t need when cool wet fingers sneak under the hem of your tank top and damp lips find the side of your neck.

"Sorry,” he says softly when you flinch with surprise. “Didn’t think I was so quiet… Hi.”

“I was engrossed in nest-building and you’re like a cat,” you say and turn around. The soft light from the lantern inside the car renders his smile almost unbearably soft. He’s dripping wet from head to toe and strands of hair stick to his cheek and chin. You brush them away. “A wet, sneaky cat.”

There’s still a blue tint faintly staining big patches of his skin; you suppose you soaked a little too long in berry juice. You trace the outlines with your fingers. “You had a good swim?”

Eddie hums affirmatively, snatches your hand from his chest and presses a soft kiss to the tips of your fingers. “The fucking sky was on fire,” he says in an almost pensive way, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” He quickly blinks a few times before his eyes focus on you again. It’s like he’s coming back from far away.

“Where did you just go?”

“Uh, just… I’m… just a bit tired I guess…” he wrinkles his nose and scratches the back of his head as if another thought is stuck there. “You know…” he pauses again and then the expression melts into a smile. ”Someone interrupted my well-deserved nap after an almost deadly handjob.”

You huff a laugh, but the thought that there is something on his mind that just won’t make it over his lips starts gnawing on you.

“And I kinda wish I had a fucking towel. Don’t feel like waiting out here until I’m dry.”

“Have you tried shaking yourself very quickly, like a good boy?”

Eddie’s brows vanish under his wet bangs and then a wicked grin that can only be the harbinger of mayhem spreads over his face. You regret running your mouth even before he widens his stance and starts to bang his head like he’s at a Metallica show with his dick out.

Drops of cold water fly everywhere, too cool on your skin now that nightfall takes the heat away and you scramble back over the mattress to get away from him. “You animal!”

“As you have suggested,” he laughs, coming back up while trying to get the wet hair out of his face. “Hey, where did you g— hmpf.”

You’d thrown a blanket at him, hitting him right in the face. “Oh shit,” you laugh and crawl back to the edge. “Sorry—“

“Can’t quite take your apology seriously when you cackle like that,” he grumbles unconvincingly, peeling the blanket off his face.

“Dry your wet cat ass with that thing, throw it over a branch or something and then come in here.”

He does just that.

You’re already drowsy when he finally settles in behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, a soft low melody deep in his throat that seems to rest heavy on your eyelids. Eddie turns off the light, mumbles something about mosquitos and nestles his face into the back of your neck. You can hear him sniff.

“This is what you’d smell like if you were a lake monster.”

“S' that good?”

“Very sexy,” he sighs and holds his wrist under your nose. “Verdict?”

You sniff; it’s Eddie but more tart. “Highly erotic,” you say truthfully but half-yawning. “We could be lake monsters together. Share a lake. Just you and I and—” another yawn, “—and the algae.”

Eddie doesn’t reply and you think he must have fallen asleep.

“G’d night, love of my life,” you drawl just as your consciousness slips away.

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#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #my fic

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