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miyasturniolo · 1 month

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CINEMA | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: you and chris went to the cinema to watch a new film that you both had been eagerly anticipating. he wanted to have a special time together, considering it a cinema date. however, once in the cinema, he became too aroused because of you, leading to him getting carried away and having to excuse himself with you to the bathroom, which resulted in missing most of the film.

warning: smut, fingering, swearing, pet names (ma, love, good girl, darling), use of y/n, public place, dominant chris, bathroom sex, needy chris, hair pulling, ass grabbing, p in v, unprotected sex.

a/n: not my photos, found on pinterest. not sure about this one tbh.

WORDS: 2.8k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

You and Chris have been eagerly waiting to watch a film at the cinema for the past few months. His identical brothers expressed interest in joining, but Chris preferred to have some alone time with you.

"What would you like?" he asked, who already ordered popcorn and a Pepsi for himself. He insisted on paying for your items, not letting you pay.

As he ordered what you wanted and handed you your items, his contagious smile made you smile back. "Thank you," you said, which caused him to smile a little more before grabbing his popcorn and Pepsi.

Walking into the movie theater together, he took your spare hand and led you to your seats, pulling you down next to him. As you settled down, he watched your movements, admiring the shape of your thighs as they spread out slightly due to you sat down. He adored your thighs.

"Would you like a hand?" he asked, eager to feel the touch of your skin. He cherished the sensation of your touch and was willing to do anything to maintain that connection, even if it meant giving up his YouTube career.

Ignoring the fact that you didn't actually need assistance, he was determined to help to you. As you reached for the snack you had mentioned wanting, he swiftly took them from you and placed them where you intended. "Really?" you muttered, to which he responded with a smile, revealing his teeth.

He rested his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed it, relishing the feel of your soft skin against his warm palm.

"I sometimes wonder how I managed to win you over," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. When he noticed the movie had started, he shifted slightly to get more comfortable in his seat, while keeping his hand on your thigh still.

The movie started playing, capturing both of your attentions since you both had been eager to watch it ever since seeing the promising trailer.

His thumb gently caressed your upper thigh, inching closer to your intimate area, though he was unaware as his soul intention was to provide you comfort, which he achieved flawlessly.

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you rather than the film for the past ten minutes, finding your profile captivating despite your self-perception. "Stop staring," you playfully scolded, glancing at your boyfriend who only smirked in response, refusing to divert his gaze from you.

"Your beauty mesmerizes me, darling. How can I not resist looking at you?" he whispered, stealing a few more glances before turning back to the movie.

You playfully rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, causing him to raise an eyebrow before returning his blue orbs at you.

He casually moved his hand from your thigh and brushed your hair away from your face, using it as an excuse to touch your skin even more.

Chris found himself looking at you once more than at the film you both had been eager to watch ever since hearing about it. "Okay, my beauty can't be that good," you teased, catching his stare again.

"Trust me, it is," Chris whispered, placing his hand back on your thigh. Though his hand was now closer to your warmth which is between your legs, you were wearing shorts and a fresh love shirt that Chris had given you earlier before you both headed out to see this movie.

As you both finally focused on the movie, he couldn't help but feel a stirring in his body, drawn in by your scent and the softness of your skin against his.

Quietly, he adjusted his shorts and boxers, subtly shifting in his seat to compose himself without drawing your attention to the growing intensity he was experiencing.

Despite feeling exposed in his vulnerability, he couldn't resist the desire for more.

Observing your engrossment in the film, he scanned the surroundings and noted the proximity of other moviegoers, ensuring that the slight thrill of the moment was contained within a safe distance. The other couple nearby though remained on the opposite side of the aisle, four rows behind you both.

"What are you looking at?" Your question caused him to turn his head towards you suddenly, his heart skipping a beat as he jumped slightly in surprise at your unexpected message.

"I was checking out the people around us, seeing how far away we are from everyone else," he explains, as his finger traces from your upper thigh to your shorts.

"I wanna pleasure you.. I'll make sure no one sees, but you must promise to stay quiet, okay?" His words were laced with desire. His speech made you surprised and confused due to how bold it was.

You trusted him, so you spoke, which made him smirk because those were the words he wanted to hear. "okay..."

He made sure no one was looking before taking off your shorts. He couldn't help but smile like a kid in a candy store. He loved when you were like this with him, especially when he was feeling aroused.

He pulled your shorts off, but only up to your knees, so if someone did happen to see, he could quickly pull them back up before security noticed or something.

He rubbed his thumb against your thong, making you widen your eyes, which caused him to quietly chuckle so it wasn’t attracting anyone attention, except from you.

He felt your wetness seep through, which prompted him to whisper in your ear, "Didn't know you needed me that badly," as he bit your earlobe and then kissed your cheek.

He discreetly kept watch to see no one was looking, as he had promised not to let anyone catch a glimpse. His hand moved to the waistband of your thong.

As he began to pull them down, revealing your bare pussy that he adored, his fingers gently caressed your folds before teasingly slipping one finger inside, aware of your desire for more.

Feeling himself grow harder because of you, he set aside his own needs to focus on pleasuring you.

You attempted to stifle any sounds to avoid drawing attention, trying to concentrate on the movie, even though the pleasure he was giving you was incredible.

Unexpectedly, he added two more fingers, intending to use only two but ending up with three inside you. He skillfully curled them once he located your g-spot.

His arousal evident but yet he refrained from touching himself or adjusting in his boxers, solely focused on satisfying you.

He watched as you bit your lip and closed your eyes in pleasure while he pleasured you with his fingers. He increased the pace, his thumb teasing your sensitive spot, causing you to squirm with delight, a reaction he enjoyed, knowing he was satisfying you.

"Close?" he whispered, his intense blue eyes focused on you, observing how your innocence transformed into desire as he brought you to climax with his familiar touch.

You refrained from speaking, both aware that a moan could escape your lips and draw unwanted attention in the cinema. Instead, you simply nodded in response.

He noticed your body tense around his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as you reached your peak.

Thankfully, you managed to stifle any loud sounds when you coated his fingers, although it was a challenge to contain your pleasure. You breathed heavily, releasing your lip from where you had bitten it hard enough to draw blood.

He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before helping you adjust your clothing, ensuring that no one noticed the intimate moment you shared in the cinema.

“Are you okay, love?" He asked, wanting to ensure your well-being, not wanting you to feel irritated later by what had happened, especially if someone had seen, even though no one knew or anything similar.

"No, I'm not," you replied playfully. Chris froze for a moment before realizing it was in jest. He smiled and playfully twirled a few strands of your hair.

He found himself needing to touch himself even more, still feeling a throbbing pain. He had completely forgotten about the film and his desire earlier.

"y/n," he said your name quietly, savoring the sound of it. What made it even better for him was that his brother would sometimes express annoyance when you weren't shopping with them or somewhere else, chris always mentioned how you would love something or recounting a story about you.

You looked at him and smiled, your focus now on him rather than the film. You didn't know what was happening in the movie as most of the time you were being pleasured by him.

He knew he couldn’t come out with it directly, so he began by asking a few questions in order to lead up to the main reason. “Do you know what's happening in the movie, because I'm a bit lost?”

His needs were escalating, and he reached out to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Not really,” you reply honestly. Even though both of you have wanted to watch the movie, he was relieved by your answer right now.

“Should we just skip it? I can get tickets for us to see it tomorrow or something,” he offers. As you look at him, he uses his spare hand to discreetly touch himself through his shorts and boxers, trying to stifle his moans. You hadn’t notice that yet.

“I don’t mind, do you?” you inquire. He remains silent for a moment, trying to contain himself as he struggles with the urge to climax while discreetly touching himself.

He removes his hand with hesitation and made his other hand stop holding yours. Instead he grabs your wrist, guiding it to his throbbing member.

“I need you. I need to be close to you, please ma.” He whispered, his eyes locked on yours in the dark movie theater, illuminated only by the flickering light of the movie screen.

His hands wandered over your thighs. "Please," he pleaded softly. You knew you couldn't, even though you wanted to. If you engaged in intimacy here, someone would surely see you two and get security.

"We can't. We'll get caught," you said, causing him to roll his eyes and quickly suggest, "Shall we go to the bathroom?" He was willing to beg on his knees if necessary.

He was consumed by his desire for you, feeling a relentless need that left him in torment. He understood his craving and it was to be close to you, to be inside you.

You were about to say yes, but he didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed your arm and stood up, leading you out of the theater, possibly heading to the restroom.

“I can't wait any longer, I need you so badly. I feel like I'm going crazy,” he said, taking you to the men's bathroom where no one else was present. He entered a stall and started kissing you passionately.

He pressed his knee against the area between your legs, his kisses were intense yet filled with love. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as you reciprocated.

Moaning, he squeezed your ass through your shorts. “I'm so lucky to have you, I have no complaints,” he said after pulling away and moving to kiss your neck, marking you as his own.

You removed his shorts, letting them fall to the ground, but neither of you cared as desire took over. He was aroused in his boxers.

He then helped you remove your shirt, as he also discarded his own.

You playfully tease him, calling him 'so needy,' but he just rolls his eyes with a small chuckle and takes off your bra, casually dropping it on the stall floor.

He gazes at your breasts and begins to caress your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You love that ma?” he whispers. “mhm”

He kisses your lips and undresses you, leaving you naked while he remains in boxers.

Your hands explore his body until you remove his boxers, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “I need you y/n” he confesses.

Your touch has him on the verge of climaxing, but he desires to be inside you, savoring the sound of your sweet moans blending with the rhythm of your bodies together.

"I need you too," your voice was like music to his ears, and he didn't hesitate; his pre-cum was already leaking from his pink tip.

He turned you around, admiring your beloved ass for various reasons: the way it gently bounced as you walked, when he took you from behind, when he rested his head on your back while you lay on your stomach.

Brushing your hair aside, he kissed your shoulder before entering you, causing you to moan. "Be loud for me, my love, no one here," he urged.

He started to thrust inside you, causing a blend of pain and pleasure that made you moan, but he was whispering things to make you forget about the pain.

His size initially caused discomfort as he stretched you, but as you got more used to it and he stimulated your G-spot, the pain gradually faded, making room for heightened pleasure.

He continued to thrust in and out of you, kissing your neck and jawline, pulling your hair to reach your sensitive spots.

The sound of your bodies coming together echoed in the empty cinema restroom where you were alone, intensifying the intimate moment.

As he moaned at the tightness, his hands explored your body, focusing on your breasts by pinching your nipples.

"I'm so close to climaxing when your so tight around me," he whispered. He heard the bathroom door creek so he was alerting you to the presence of someone else entering the restroom. He quickly covered your mouth and urged you to be silent.

Despite the interruption, he didn't stop, instead becoming more intense and faster, making it challenging for you to contain your moans.

He listened to the sound of someone washing their hands and then leaving. “Good girl for staying quiet,” he whispered.

He tugged your hair to make you look at him while he was having sex with you from behind. His blue eyes locked on yours. “Keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to punish you,” he said firmly before releasing your hair and gripping your hip.

As he was reaching climax, you could sense it by the way his large member twitched. He thrust hard into you, causing you to moan loudly.

It felt like he was discovering new pleasure spots you never knew existed. “Chris.. I'm close,” you gasped.

“Me too, darling,” he murmured. With that, he climaxed inside you, continuing to move inside you vigorously until you also reached orgasm.

As he finished, his hot release mixed with yours, dripping out of you onto the bathroom stall floor.

“fuck ma, I love you,” he said, pulling out with a pop and then adjusting your position to see your face.

You looked adorable in his eyes, with sweat glistening and a lazy smile as you were catching your breath, mirroring his own. He gently wiped the mascara off your cheek and kissed your lips softly, briefly pausing before diving into a passionate make-out session.

“I love you more,” you whispered after he pull away but he embraced you, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other. He rested his head on your shoulder, his fingers entwined in your hair.

“Impossible,” he murmured softly before pulling away to clean you up with a tissue, help you put your clothes back on, and then get dressed himself.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggested, both of you eager to leave and head back to his place.

He took your hand and led you out of the men's bathroom before anyone could see. His thumb caressed your palm as he exited the cinema with you.

“I promise to buy another ticket... maybe tomorrow? Who knows, we might have another round,” he smirked, placing his hand on your hip instead of holding hands.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

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fillinforlater · 4 months

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A Collection for a Special Date: Part V

Male Reader x Kim Minju (fluff)

Length: 1000 words

Tags: all the fluff, birthday date, really loving relationship, cutest ending ever

Inspiration: Minju mine tbh, also HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO BEST GIRL

(A/N: this is the second Minju fic for today, the yearly fluff that hopefully makes you all feel warm. It's a bit short, but otherwise I would not have been able to finish it in time. Pleas enjoy regardless!)

“What are we going to do for my birthday?”

A question that Minju always asks so playfully and carelessly, but for you, it’s a source of stress, year in and year out. It’s not necessarily because she has the highest of standards or would break up with you because of a bad surprise—no, it’s because you want to make it the best day imaginable for her. You want to see her smile and hear her laugh; in that sense it’s almost egocentric.

“It’s going to be a surprise~” You grin at Minju who looks up from her phone, a pout on her lips but excitement in her eyes.

“You always say that, every year! I just want to know what I should wear or prepare or—”

“Minmin.” You laugh and wrap your arms around your girlfriend's waist. She fits perfectly into your hug and when she reciprocates it, you feel like no heaven could come close to this. For now however, you put her on the kitchen counter and watch this small bean as you explain what you have explained a hundred times already. “You will look perfect in anything.”

“You always say that.”

“And you don’t have to worry about preparations.”

“You always say that too.”

“I just want you to relax and enjoy your special day, that’s all—”

“—I care about, yes, I know! Geez, babe, you sound like a broken record, year in, year out.”

You press a quick kiss on her lips to shut her up. Good thing that noone is watching; you two just engaged in the cringiest, cheesiest couple behavior. It’s so cringe, the two of you burst out in laughs and continue to share kisses and hugs that can remove all work and life stress. Even if every year or month or day repeats itself like a broken record, with Minju it will be—

“Okay, fine,” Minju sighs in defeat, hands on your nape as her eyes, soft like silk, go over your features. Oh no, she must have read your thoughts, at least some of them. “At least promise me one thing.

“Don’t worry too much and enjoy yourself too.”

“I promise.” Kiss her forehead. “I love you, Minmin.”

“I love you too.”

“This is the best birthday ever!” Minju exclaims in thrill when the waiter brings her a stack of beautifully crafted, maple-syrup covered, buttery pancakes. “Babe, you are the best.”

“Glad you like it, Minmin,” you say nervously, but you’re not sure your words reach the girl, as she digs into the treat. For the past eight hours, the two of you have walked through this city you’ve spent your entire lives in.

Through meticulous planning, you’ve found spots that you believed to be completely unknown to Minju. These hidden gems were aligned for a perfect route; from a hotel where you can play and cuddle with dogs to a shop with cute but expensive jewelry to a small cinema where you can cook the food shown in the movie to a backyard park, perfect for winter strolls.

Minju beamed with the brightest of smiles since the morning breakfast and gifts you gave her, and her squeals of joy at every new surprise spot is addictive. It’s so addictive, you are almost able to keep the promise you gave her: don’t worry too much and enjoy yourself.

“These pancakes taste so good!” Minju reaches over the table and pinches your cheek, still red from the cold outside and from your endless love for this wonderful girl. “How did you find all these places?”

“I had to travel the seven seas to find hidden treasure chests with maps inside them,” you joke and Minju falls back to pout sweetly.

“Babe, your sarcasm is showing again. Not cool.” Now it’s your turn to lean forward, but instead of pinching, you cup her face and taste some of that delicious maple syrup on her lips. A deep breath leaves her nose and finally, a bit of pressure and anxiety about today leaves your body; it leaves because Minju looks truly happy.

“Happy birthday, Minmin,” you whisper. “When you are done with those pancakes, I have a final spot we need to check out.”

“Baaaabe~” Minju’s voice melts like the butter on her favorite dessert. This saccharine tone that can warm you, even on the coldest February night.

Luckily, tonight it’s not too cold. It’s perfect winter jacket and wooly hat weather with not a cloud on the entire night sky. You and Minju finally reach the top of the pancake shop, a fairly tall building, surrounded by small houses and large skyscrapers everywhere you look. From this point, the city around you seems to never end, infinite concrete, lights and snow.

“This is a nice view,”Minju says in awe, her breath forming faint vapor in the air.

“Minju.” You point somewhere. “Look at the city, it’s lights first. Imagine all the people that live at these lights. They party, they work, they eat—

“—now look up. Do you see the moon, the stars?”

“Yes,” Minju sighs melancholically. “But I can barely see them. The light from the city is too strong and we can never see the life that might be up there.”

You faintly laugh, your nerves almost returning. You rub the sweaty palm of your hand on your thigh and look at Minju, who seems a bit dreamy, lost in the stars she tries so hard to see.

“Close your eyes. Imagine the city lights turned off. How bright are the stars now?”

Minju smiles, her nose directed at the infinite universe, eyes gently closed. Your breath halts. “They are beautiful, strong, and I don’t want to look at anything else anymore.”

“Kim Minju…”

She opens her eyes, you’re on one knee.

“...I love you.”

You pull out a silky blue jewel case and with a click, it opens.

“Will you marry me?”

The ring sparkles in Minju’s starlit orbs. Her answer, your unbelievable joy.

“Oh my God, babe—”

“Yes!”

#kpop fluff #minju fluff #girl group fluff #izone fluff #birthday fluff #male reader insert

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toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account · 7 months

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god ride the cyclone is the fucking musical ever. a rat named Virgil that's going to kill the narrator (a paranormal fortune telling machine) in like an hour plays the bass. you're then immediately introduced to five children that are brutally killed in a roller coaster accident and have their hopes and dreams and everything they loved taken away from them. an unidentified headless body depicted as having her doll's head appears and sings a very woeful introduction to her character and then asks if her purgatory-mate would like to brush her dolly's hair and then recites a fact about how when a lioness has children she stops making love to the lion. the lion gets jealous. sometimes so jealous he eats the children. you would think this would upset the lioness. far from it. they make love again like the children never existed. she finds that idea terrifying. the paranormal fortune telling machine is able to move the children's bodies against their will for choreography and "catchphrases" and this is shown to be something they're discomforted by initially but continues nonetheless through the rest of the musical. ocean tears down all of her friends in her song to come back to life until she's told they decide who comes back through unanimous vote. you laugh for half a second before you remember that even if she's initially stuck up and conceited her song was an attempt from the soul of an innocent dead teenager who died for no reason to try to plead to come back to life. noel has fantasies of being a sex worker in post-war france and dying of typhoid flu driven by his love of french new wave cinema (mischa calling him tragic later is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him). mischa recites a very precise and accurate analysis of the meaning of Saw VI but calls it Saw V. you listen to a very silly hip-hop rap before you listen to one of the most heartbreakingly loving songs you've ever heard and you hear "I lay my masculinity at the altar of your maidenhood" and you wonder how this is the same musical where the rat played the bass. you go from a song about a teenage boy saving an alien race of cat girls by breeding with them all to a mournful and breathtaking song about a jane doe's complete lack of identity besides the fact that she is dead and without an identity and the fact that she spends the whole song not begging to come back to life but begging to know who she is. her purgatory-mates get her a party hat and an old hello kitty cupcake and a cape and you sob when this choir made up of dead children make up a new birthday song that doesn't require a name so this jane doe can have a good new birthday because they finally don't see her as a freaky and eerie character but as a dead child just like them who can't remember who she is and they treat her like one of their own even though none of them recognize her from their choir. the last thing constance did before riding the cyclone was lose her virginity to a thirty year old and you try very hard not to think about how horrible that is. the girl that had been selfish the entire musical is given the final vote and is given a chance to vote for herself and she honors the original rules so she can give a new life to jane doe and everyone agrees. these children watch jane's new life play out and you think about how much they all deserved new lives too. it's both the most fun and most sad fucking musical you've ever listened to. fuck.

#and then you realize you got into it like 3 years too late for there to be an active fandom 🙃#long post #mine #ride the cyclone

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mrsrookhunt · 4 months

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Monster Rook Hunt Pt. 3-- A Mega compilation

@v-anrouge I have returned

This is my apology for essentially 3 months of total radio silence <3

Today's Specials

Kitsune!Rook Hunt

Yeti!Rook Hunt

Siren!Rook Hunt

MIB!Rook Hunt

Alien!Rook Hunt

Ghost!Rook Hunt

Kitsune Rook Hunt

While he may appear as a normal fox beastman in public, you meet him by discovering him at his most vulnerable point-- in between transformation from a regular foxman into a beautiful, legendary kitsune.

It's a night you'll never forget. Sometimes you're convinced that he revealed himself to you on purpose simply so that he could make the excuse that you had to be his now.

Oh how he loves loves lovesss pets and pats and if you wanted to brush his tails or maybe just tousle the fur that would be great, thank you--

Touch is everything to him. If you sit beside him for a spell you have made a mistake, because now you're all wrapped up in nine bushy tails and two great strong arms. He does nothing but nuzzle you if you get even remotely close to him.

I hope you're not allergic to fox fur.

He may or may not suggest he's already built it so you better accept building a den for you if you're far enough in the relationship two weeks it's been two weeks. You may think that it'll be your average fox den nestled in a muddy hole in the ground, but you could not be more wrong. Unbeknownst to most people, foxmen and kitsune folk alike are expert builders of log cabins they consider the modern counterparts of their closely related fox dens.

It's got everything

Two-story ceilings in the living room, 5 bedrooms, a beautifully equipped kitchen and cinema room... and let's not forget the sauna room in the basement. Yeah, Rook, a 'den'.

Apparently, Rook is a master builder. You're tempted to ask him if all kitsune do this but you're not sure you're ready to be blown away by the answer.

Overall you will be isolated from the outside world. Rook has found the one he loves, and he wants to be himself around you. The more time passes the less and less you will be able to convince him to take a transformation potion and venture out into town. Rook is content with your nature-filled, person-devoid life, and he hopes you are too.

Yeti Rook Hunt

So much for a peaceful exploration of the woods on a snowy day.

If you had known a walk in the forest would lead to the untimely and wholly accidental meeting of a half-human, half-yeti creature that seemed to adore you with all of his heart and by that I mean refuses to stop crooning over how taken with you he is and how it's love at first sight, just like he's seen on TV! you might honestly have turned around and gone back home.

Your meeting is... fun. Being lovingly greeted by a 7-foot-tall, fur covered monster in ill-fitting clothes is a lot to process-- first to admit to yourself that such things are real altogether-- and that this one is in love with you.

He asks you to come back to his cave-- and no matter how much you decline, he will always pop up in your life somehow again to invite you as soon as you say no to the previous invitation.

When you finally do go to visit him, you are immediately pulled into cuddles and kisses. This is how you discovered that the only socialization Rook has been given was through TV.... and pushy romance tropes do tend to make their rounds on a good number of shows.

Rook knows nothing about his own species. What you're seeing and feeling is exactly the extent that he knows about himself. He feels that he is human mentally even though he knows that physically he isn't.

Once you lean into him and his company, you will get unfiltered touch to his long, soft fur, and you will be able to intimately converse with him about what he wants in his future. Two very great perks of dating a legendary monster. And unsurprisingly, he wants you.

You will have to get used to living with him. Once you're dating, it isn't optional. Rook is insistent on being the provider, and for once you don't know if that's from TV or instinct.

His cave ahem, apologies, home is actually quite nicely kept, and oddly cozy. The occasional stalagmite encounter typically isn't awful, as the main part of the cave is comprised of solid, nice, well-furnished rock rooms. There's a deeper part of the cave system, but you aren't allowed in there, since past the liveable part Rook has made there's nothing but steep drop offs and weakened ground. Do not test that theory please.

And if you're threatened by weird cave bugs? Do not fret, they come with insurance. If Rook is home, he'll take care of the bugs. If he's out hunting? There's a nice little tightly sealed log cabin with a fireplace and a bookcase outside for you to chill in until he gets home.

It really is the life. Rook makes sure you never want for anything except fast food and all modern conveniences with the exception of cable.

Siren Rook Hunt

Man, these singers are getting too good. So good.

So very, very goo......

Hey, at least the view from the rock outcropping you're trapped on is nice.

Rook is sweet and charming, but you can't really get past the fact that he decided to sing you into an easy kidnapping over just asking you to dinner. He insists that these days, kidnapping is cheaper than going out for dinner, and you hate to admit that he is correct.

Your days are spent watching Rook be a one-man show in performing his favorite operas for you with a little break every few lines so you don't slip into siren-song induced madness and basking on the shore of the small rock island you live on.

Sometimes he brings you back fabric or paper or something to be creative with, but oftentimes he prefers just to spend as much time with you as possible and talk and talk and talk and talk and... well, he's quite chatty. It does entertain you thoroughly.

All of your basic needs are taken care of but Rook does not fully understand the human need for stimulation and outside of chatting with him and sleeping, there's not much for you to do.

If he really wants you to spend your life with him you are tasked with convincing him to buy a house on the shore, so both of your habitat needs are fully met.

After that, things go smoothly. Rook is very convincingly human and you don't have many differences between you. Rook is dedicated to you, and you are dedicated to him.

Men In Black Rook Hunt

Your meeting was your own fault. You had seen an alien, and you were raising hell about it.

Unfortunately, you couldn't just get a normal interrogator. No, you got the self-proclaimed 'investigator of all things eerie', Rook Hunt.

To say he was ecstatic to interview you was an understatement. He seemed more interested in your personal life than he did the actual incident you'd assumed he'd be investigating.

After that interrogation, your fuzzy memories aided you in spotting him following you around town.

When you finally got around to an actual date with him, he was already planning your future on the first conversation of the night.

You knew you were stuck with him then and there.

MIB!Rook has no interest in marriage, for whatever reason. However, you are undeniably his lifetime partner and he loves you more than life. He is often out on jobs... or whatever it is he does for work (you will NEVER know, he's trying to protect you from the truth).

When he's home, he studies you intensely. Rook does not seem fully human to you (something else he hides from you) and his behaviors tend to mimic you with the exception of his unending, incessant French vocabulary. That came pre-eqipped.

Overall, Rook is secretive, but he only wants the best for you... whatever that means to him.

Side note I've actually seen a UFO and documented evidence of it. Does anyone want that story? It actually inspired this lol

Alien Rook Hunt

Learning that aliens exist is fun. Learning that one is stalking you is infinitely worse.

Rook comes in no spacecraft, no beam of light, or fancy supernatural story. He just knocks on your door and invites himself into your home as Rook Hunt of a planet you can't pronounce.

You've known that someone was following you for several months. You weren't necessarily aware it was an inhuman man with a creepy smile who admittedly creeped around your house amd watched your every move. And didn't seem to find anything wrong with it

Have you seen those people with the letters on their backs around here?? Please tell me you haven't seen the people with the letters on their backs around here..... he means the FBI. Unfortunately, the alphabet is still eluding him.

There's a surprising amount of extraterrestrial gossip between species and planets... apparently earth has just been missing out.

Rook is actually on earth as a scholar-- with a degree in cultural studies and a focus on conversational language. So, he does what he can do best: study you, ask questions, and share his own experiences with you! Keep in mind you will have a very sad, defeated, puppy-eyed Rook if you're not keen for lengthy conversations on interstellar tradition and history

Rook likes bringing you soft things. Much like jewelry is a gift of high praise here, soft things such as blankets and warm ...jackets? Why do they have 9 arms are of equal value where he comes from.

He also enjoys taking you out for hikes. His planet boasts a very rich ecosystem, and most people go for dates exclusively in nature--- its something he's trying to bring back to you.

Your differences, while quite obvious to you, are hard to discern to Rook. So long as you entertain him, and allow him to hang around, life will go smoothly.

Ghost Rook Hunt

If you didn't want to attract the attention of the mischievous spirit of a long-dead esteemed hunter, you probably shouldn't have broken into that cabin in the woods in a far off rural town as a 'roadtrip'.

The moment you walked through the door, you knew you had gotten yourself into deeeeep trouble.

Every light was lit in a building that wasn't supposed to have power, the fireplace had been recently stoked, and there were two warm bowls of stew set at the dingy kitchen table as if it had been set for dinner.

Eerie? Yes.

Enough to keep you from dinner? No.

Somehow, your food disappeared out of your backpack Poltergeist? No, Pomefioregeist , so what else could you get this far out of town?

The food makes you dizzy, and you swear you feel the softest touch of a hand on your shoulder before you're out cold.

When you wake up, the door to the cabin is jammed. It's like a horror movie. But most horror movies don't come equipped with giddy, excited, hat-wearing full apparitions.

Rook's plan is to keep you there until you die. He says he'd have to open the door to get groceries, and then you'd leave. Not the best scenario, but, hey, you won't have to pay off your loans anymore.

When you do die, you're Rook's favorite person ever. Cuddles, kisses, the works. He takes you out to see performances that you don't even have to pay for!

Dying is very cost-efficient.

You'd never imagined that ghosts would feel solid to each other, but it was a pleasant surprise when you had your first kiss with him.

Though you two have no real possibility of a future other than floating through the 4th dimension with each other, Rook will keep your eternity filled with love and devotion.

#rook hunt twst #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt headcanons #yandere rook hunt #monster rook hunt #character imagines #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcannon #rook hunt #rook hunt twisted wonderland #yandere rook x reader #yandere twst #twst fanfic #twst

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lewisyellowhelmet · 2 years

Text

summer storm

summary: eddie munson x reader

You got caught in a summer storm, you may as well wait in Eddie’s trailer while you wait for it to pass. (6k+)

content: virgin!eddie, smut, cheating (but its ok #girlboss), weed, general pining, confusion, eddie charm, p/v sex, fingering etc all that yummy stuff, praise kink if you squint

It’s the kind of violent summer storm that makes you think the apocalypse is incoming. Preceded by violet, rolling clouds in the sky, and the kind of humidity that makes you feel like you’re constantly in a warm bath. The wind is vicious, hitting the walls of Eddie’s trailers with a thrilling intensity, rain slashing against the windowpanes. You sit, fidgety, on the very edge of the worn couch, sneakered feet turned in on each other. The plastic bag of weed is already buried in the bottom of your backpack, your money in the pocket of Eddie’s jeans, but the rain had come before you could make your routine exit. You cringe for your poor bicycle, leant up against the porch outside, getting soaked through. It’ll rust if you leave it too long.

“I can drive you home,” Eddie had offered, but you thought of your mother in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and watching through the blinds as you manoeuvred your bike out of Eddie’s van, blinking in the rain, calling out thank you’s back to him. She’d never let you leave the house again. So. Here you are. Sat on Eddie Munson’s couch, waiting for the storm to pass. You’re winding a stray thread from your jean shorts around the tip of your finger, watching it go purple and throb before you unwrap it, feel the pulse of escaping blood.

Eddie is crouched in front of the television, rifling through VHS cases, mumbling to himself. You feel like an observer, someone not meant to be in the scene with him, witnessing something private. Usually, you do your deals after school, and even if you do bike out here you only ever see a brief glimpse of the inside of the trailer, just enough to swap pot for money, say thank you, and retreat back out into the bright daylight to ride back to town. You’ve never been in his presence for so long, had a conversation longer than a few brief sentences. And now he’s searching for a movie to watch together, something not too scary, as you’d requested, even though he’d rolled his eyes. You bite back on a smile, imagining the conversation with Nancy tomorrow as you rolled blunt’s of Eddie’s weed on her back step, drizzle coming down but safe under the porch. You did what, she would say, round, shocked eyes, at his house? And you’d smile and say, he wasn’t that scary, actually.

“Ah ha!” Eddie says, rising up and spinning to show you the video in his big hands. His chunky rings clink together. Labyrinth. You grin.

“I love David Bowie,” you say, laugh at him pretending to gag. But he puts it on, punches buttons on the television until it flickers onto static and then the reeling play menu. Eddie backpedals to the couch beside you, collapsing in a crumpled mess of long limbs and hair. All the energy seems to go out of him, like a deflated balloon. It’s strange seeing him still. He’s usually so active, parading around the cafeteria, causing a ruckus in the back of English Lit, but here, in his own space, he seems almost peaceful.

“Have you seen this before?” He asks, and you nod, allowing yourself to finally shift more comfortably on the couch so you can lean into the back, pulling a cushion into your lap for something to do with your hands.

“Yeah, in the cinema.”

“With your boyfriend? Hot date.”

You swallow over a dry mouth, “Something like that.”

You wonder what your boyfriend is doing now. They were supposed to be running laps today for basketball training. Have they been rained out? Retreated to the gymnasium to listen to the rain drip through the tin roof? Or maybe he’s with that Junior, under the bleachers where you’d caught them last week. You feel suddenly ill at the thought, and slouch further into the couch. You should break up with him, but the energy required of such a task seems supernova like. Everything feels like too much effort these days, as you careen towards graduation and college and adulthood. May as well play out the facade for a few more months. You turn to Eddie before you start thinking about it too much.

“Did you wanna smoke?” You ask. He turns his head towards you before he drags his eyes from the television set, but when they land on you it feels suddenly blinding. His full attention, surveying you on his couch. Deciding whether you’re a good enough weed partner or not. His mouth crooks into a sideways smile. You don’t know why you suddenly need his approval so badly.

“Sure, if you wanna,” Eddie says, a lazy way about his words that make you feel judged. Has he decided you’re cool enough? Or not, a disappointment. The feeling clangs in your belly. You go to dig in your bag for the weed he’d just sold you, but he bats your hand out of it, levering himself off the couch.

“Don’t be silly, I’ll get my stuff, it’s better anyway,” he says, and you frown at his receding figure. You were under the impression he had given you the good stuff. Nancy certainly never complained, and her boyfriend was an aficionado at pot. In the movie, Jennifer Connelly is arguing with David Bowie about her missing brother, as he rolls the crystal globe menacingly in his hands. Somehow, the outside rain seems to increase in intensity, thundering down on the tin roof. It’s soothing, being inside and warm while the weather storms. The light is cosy in here, just a lamp in the corner and the television set. The place smells like smoke and coffee, the scent of clean rain just beginning to edge in. Somehow the trailer is exactly how you expected it to be. Cluttered, obviously occupied by single men, but homely. A collection of bric-a-brac mugs. A rug on the floor. There’s an amp pushed into a corner.

“Here,” Eddie announces, and to your surprise plops down at your feet, the supplies he’d gathered spread out on the floor. You pretend to watch the movie while he carefully puts together a blunt, packing it neatly. You look away when he lifts it to his mouth, pink tongue flickering over the edge to seal it. The sound of his lighter, the crackling paper, and then the sweet, sticky smell of weed. Eddie passes it to you, and you don’t think about how his mouth was just where yours was as you take a drag. You want him to see how you don’t cough, how you’re good at this, but when you look down at him he’s watching the movie, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. You pass the blunt back to him.

“Thanks,” he says, absentmindedly, like he’d forgotten you were there at all. Even more, you feel like an intruder. Now you’re smoking his weed, too. Insisted on a movie he clearly doesn’t like. Awkwardness clogs your throat, but the high brings a soft edge to it, not so immediate.

“Do you think I could pull off those pants?” Eddie says, breaking the smokey silence. David Bowie and his package are taking up the screen. The weed makes you laugh easier.

“Maybe if you straightened your hair,” you say, take the blunt he’s passing back. Eddie frowns and ruffles his hand through his mop.

“What, and lose all this? Curls get the girls, ya know,” he says, and throws a smirk over his shoulder. You feel it again, the blinding power of his attention on you. You want to say something funny back, something to make him laugh, but the weed is clouding your brain. Instead, you suck in another hit, let it sit in your lungs for too long.

You alternate between watching the movie and watching him. He’s stayed seated on the floor, one knee pulled up, the other leg stretched out languidly in front of him. It’s strangely endearing, seeing him in his socks, heavy boots lost somewhere. Your whole body feels heavy and fluid, like you’re sinking into the pillowed depths of the couch, but you’re not that fussed about it. The rain is soothing. At some point, Eddie shifts, and you find his shoulder is against your leg, a steady pressure. You imagine your boyfriend finding you like this, slumped in the couch, your leg against the side of Eddie’s body, smoking a blunt right down to the ash. Eddie is flicking his lighter on and off, and you watch with hazy eyes as the flame appears and disappears at his will.

“Are you thirsty?” He asks, eventually, somewhere in the last act of the film, and you nod, eyes heavy. He laughs at you, rumbling.

“You okay?”

You nod again, blinking up to where he’s leaning over you, half amused, half worried.

“Yeah, it’s just… Nance and I, we don’t usually smoke that much at once.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, standing up. Seated in the couch like this, looking up at him, he seems very tall, his shoulders broad against the ceiling. The rain pounds down. You wonder if it will break through, flood the trailer, leaving you swimming around his kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” he apologises, “Let me get you something to drink.”

You listen to him in the kitchen, clinking glass, the open and close of the refrigerator. You’re not greened out, you know how that feels (Jason Carver’s basement, Sophomore year), you’re just very high, floating away. And this couch is so comfortable, and the rain is so nice. Your leg is cold where Eddie’s body was. You reach to rub warmth back into it.

This time, he sits back on the couch with you, waiting for you to wrap both hands around the glass of lemonade, ice blocks floating at the top.

“Thanks,” you remember to say, smiling at him over the rim of the glass, small, sweet sips.

“You’re very welcome,” Eddie says, rubbing one eye. The room has a smokey haze, now you think about it, all the windows closed against the rain. The air is warm and close in a dreamy way. The movie is about to end, Jennifer Connolly has her brother in her arms. The lemonade clears your head so you don’t feel so much like you’re about to melt into nothingness. Eddie is watching you carefully, and you try to act normal, movements robotic.

“Still with me?” He asks, as the credits roll. You’re sucking on an ice block, rolling it around behind your teeth.

“Yeah,” you say around the ice, “still with you.”

“Good,” he says, gets up to turn the television over to a live channel. There’s an I Dream of Jeanie episode playing. You notice it blearily, feeling Eddie take the empty glass back from you.

“I can’t go home like this,” you say to yourself, noticing how you’ve half collapsed into the corner of the couch, head propped up by pillows and the arm. One of your legs is tucked up into the crook of your body.

“That would be a bad idea, I think,” Eddie agrees, his head coming into view above you.

“What time is it?”

“Just past 9. But. It’s still storming.”

You close your eyes to think. You feel sleepy in a comforting way, the haunting insomnia of senior year far away. You know you shouldn’t be here, but you feel relaxed like you haven’t in a long time. Sat on this couch with him. Really, you’ve known Eddie your whole life, orbiting each other in a small town. It makes sense, somehow, that you’d end up here together, trapped by weather. But maybe that’s just the weed.

“Can I use your phone?” You ask. Damage control time.

“Yeah, of course. Look, you know. You can stay here, if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”

You open your eyes to blink up at Eddie, who’s rubbing his hand across his chest, not meeting your gaze, looking at the pillow you’re still holding.

“Are you sure? It’s just. The rain. And the weed.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Besides, if you get in trouble, I’ll get in trouble,” Eddie says. Something hot and urgent flares in your chest. You sit up, ignoring the head spin.

“I wouldn’t tell,” you say, grabbing his wrist so he looks at you, “You know that, right? If I got caught, I would never say you’d sold it to me.”

Eddie is doing his lazy smile, just one side of his mouth. Something is shining in his eyes though.

“You really know how to get a guy all mushy,” he says, “Not ratting me out, now that’s romance.”

You grin back at him, the word romance getting stuck in your chest. You realise you’re still holding his wrist, fingers flexing before you let go. Eddie clears his throat.

“I’m gonna shower, you can use the phone or whatever,” he gestures to it on the wall near the kitchen, “What’s mine is yours, mi casa et tu casa, etc cetera and all that.”

“Thank you,” you say to his receding figure, take a second to gather yourself before you stumble up and to the phone, plugging in your home number. You listen to the shower turn on as you explain to your mother you’ve got stuck at Nancy’s, that you’ll be home in time for Church in the morning. You definitely do not think about Eddie undressing in the room over, standing under the shower, the water streaming over his naked body. What would he look like? You’ve seen the tattoos on his arms, but does he have more, hidden under clothing? Does he face up into the water stream? Does he use conditioner? Your mother says something about homework and you blink the image away.

You wander into the bedroom after soothing your mother’s concerns, find it how you expected, messy and boyish. Clothes on the floor, posters haphazard on the walls, various drug paraphernalia. A guitar slung over the mirror. A dog eared copy of Lord of the Rings on the bedside table. The bed is unmade, and you tug the doona back into place before you sit down, mentally committing the room to memory. It feels strangely important, knowing everything about this space. It shouldn’t feel like this, really. You shouldn’t need to know every part of him. But everything is obscured by the rain, so nothing is real. This is a moment outside of time. Just for you, in his most private of spaces.

“Oh,” Eddie says, finding you in his room, just a towel around his waist. His hair is roughly dried and dripping down his chest.

“Sorry,” you say, standing up, a blush high on your cheeks. Caught.

“No, I just uh - Didn’t expect you in here,” he says. You drag your eyes off his chest, trying to track all the tattoos, the images he’s chosen to have on his body forever. His body isn’t what you expected. What did you expect? He’s all lean muscle, a boy almost grown into the figure of a man.

“I won’t look,” you say, cover your eyes, smile when he laughs.

“Alright, eyes shut,” Eddie says, and you stand resolutely still, listen to him move around the room, the rustle of fabric. You imagine him dropping the towel, naked in the room with you, choosing what clothes you’ll see him in next. At one point, you feel his hands around your shoulders, moving you off to one side.

“Sorry, just, here,” he says, and you hide your stumble when he lets go, listen to the dresser draws open behind where you just were.

“Sorry,” you whisper, not sure where he is in conjunction to you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, right by your ear. Your stomach drops out.

“Can I open my eyes now?” You ask, ignoring the crack in your voice. Hoping he does, too.

“Almost,” he says, and you listen to his footsteps come closer, then, “Okay, now you can.”

You blink against the light of the room. He’s changed into soft looking sweatpants, an oversized Metallica shirt with a hole in the collar. His hair is still damp around his shoulders, spreading wet.

“Everything okay with Mommy and Daddy?” Eddie teases, sitting down in a rickety chair by the cluttered desk. You return to the edge of the bed.

“No. But, yeah.”

Eddie nods wisely, like he understands everything. Maybe he does.

“I gather you didn’t tell them where you were,” he says, picking at a seam of wood.

“God, no. I said I was at Nancy’s.”

He seems to consider his next words, then, “What would they say, if they knew you were here?”

You cross your ankles over, hands either side of yourself, curled into the bedspread. Your eyes are itchy from the smoke.

“Maybe they’d send the cops, I don’t know. Something bad.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, rocks back in the chair precariously, “Probably with good reason. Who knows what satanic Eddie is gonna do to their precious little daughter.”

You blink. Swallow. “What. What is he gonna do?”

Eddie looks at you, and his eyes are heavy and dark, then the smile splits his face and he’s laughing, “God, your face. Nothing, oh sweet princess, nothing. You’re safe with the big bad wolf.”

“Are you saying I’m little Red Riding Hood? Because I’m not a ginger, I won’t stand for that,” you protest, and he grins at you.

“Darling, I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good,” you say, chin jutted.

“Now,” Eddie says, claps his hands together as he stands up. The sound breaks the moment, whatever it was, the movement of him. “Did you want clothes to wear to bed?”

You stand up with him, body still slow with weed, “yeah, please.”

You change in the bathroom. The bathroom mirror is still steamed from his shower, and you can smell the apple body wash he’s used. It feels weirdly intimate, occupying the same space he just did to clean himself. You’re methodical about changing, folding up your shorts and t-shirt, into a Dio shirt that swallows you and a soft pair of his boxers. These are the clothes he’s chosen for you, he thought about you when he pulled them out. The fabric is well-worn and comforting on your skin. You blink at yourself in the mirror. Tracking back through memory. Why are you here? Still? Why is everything shaded quiet and warm, here, with him. Circling each other for so long, gravity pulling each other closer and closer until you’re here, hiding from a storm, settled with Eddie to watch it pass. You take a deep breath.

When you emerge, sneakers in hand, clothes held against your chest, you find Eddie on his bed, strumming at his guitar. The chord breaks as he looks up at you, quiet smile.

“All good? God, that’s huge on you,” he laughs, “you look like a ghost. But a metal ghost.”

“Thanks,” you say, making a little pile of your stuff by the door, “Because that’s the kinda ghost I wanna be.”

Eddie plays quietly as you flit around the room, picking up things and putting them down again. Intrigued by what he’s chosen to keep close around him. The shower has cleared your head, although the remnants of the high shade everything hazy and dim. Eventually, you get brave enough to climb into bed. The rain is louder in here, three walls exposed to the weather. Eddie doesn’t look as you settle, just keeps playing. You watch the muscles in his back move.

“Alright,” he says, eventually, standing up, returning the guitar to its place, “Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

You’re half asleep, sat up in the bed but with heavy eyes, soothed by the rain and his playing, bleary as you realise he’s leaving, retreating to the couch. You want to say stay so you don’t let yourself open your mouth, watching him take a blanket from the end of the bed, turn the light off, then the shape of his body in the dark and the quiet close of the door. Then here you are. Alone in Eddie Munson’s bedroom. In his t-shirt. Expected to sleep. Leave in the morning like this is normal. Suddenly sleep feels very far away, staring up at the ceiling, eyes kaleidoscoping against the blackness. Somehow the rain seems louder in the dark. You hear the sound of the television being turned down, the heavy sounds of his body on the couch. Is he comfy? He’s tall, he won’t be able to stretch out very well. You roll over, pressing your face into the pillow. The sheets smell like him, boy musk, weed and smoke and deodorant. Or is it the clothes he’s given you? You’re in layers of Eddie, his smell is yours now. The shadows of his furniture loom, the wind rattles against the trailer. You think of how he said big bad wolf, the words in his mouth, the way he’d leered at you. It was a joke, but, it made something warm and sticky turn over in your belly. You imagine you can hear him in the lounge, breathing, yawning, turning over. Is he thinking about you? In his bed? Imagining he can hear you breathing?

The courage hits you like a train, and you let yourself get carried away. For once, you don’t think about the decision, just throw off the doona, bare feet on the carpet, move from memory to the door, feel the knob cool and smooth under your palm.

The hallway is dark, and you keep one hand trailing along the wall as you tread into the lounge. You hear him stir, for real this time, the rustle of his hair, the movement as he props himself up on one elbow. The light from the television illuminates him. His chest is bare, his hair messy.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern on his face. It makes your heart hurt.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. It’s just.”

Your eyes flick to the television, back to him, clasp and unclasp your hands.

“You don’t have to sleep out here. It can’t be comfy. It does’t. It doesn’t bother me if we sleep in the same bed. I feel bad,” it comes out all in a rush, more than you meant. Maybe you are still high.

“Don’t feel bad,” Eddie says, still craned around to look at you, a spectre in the hallway.

“I know, but I do. Please. I won’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Eddie says, sitting up, but he seems wary, brow creased.

“Only if you don’t mind, like, sleeping in bed with me,” you say, winding the hem of his shirt around your hand and back again.

“Why would I mind?” He seems genuinely confused by the idea, head tilted. “Do you snore?”

You laugh, “No, but I talk in my sleep.”

“Great,” he stands up, goes to turn the television off before he comes towards you in the hall, “I wonder what secrets you’ll spill.”

“It’s just gibberish,” you tell him, watching him step around you, the closeness of him, before following him back into the bedroom. His movements are easy, familiar, the routine of going to his own bed. You feel clumsy as you crawl up beside him, take the wall side. The mattress creaks and dips as you settle. It takes you a moment to realise you’re facing each other, gleaming eyes in the dark.

“Hey,” Eddie says, teasing, a smile.

“Hey,” you reply, poke his shin with your foot.

“Jesus, your feet are cold,” he cries out, overdramatic, but you laugh anyway.

You hate sleeping with your boyfriend, never let him stay over if he sneaks in, it feels suffocating, having another human in the bed with you, wriggling and breathing. But Eddie’s presence is soothing, the heavy weight of him beside you, the musky smell of him, the quiet rumble of his voice as he tells you your feet belong in Antarctica.

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, after a long quiet moment. His eyes are closed, long clumps of eyelashes, but he says, “Not really. Are you?”

You could sleep for eons here, under the rain, the steady sound of his breath, knowing you can reach out and touch him if you want, but you say, “Not really.”

“Hmmm,” Eddie hums, eyes still closed but mouth crooked into a smile, “Dilemma.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. The wind has died, finally, and it’s just the patter of rain on the roof, less punishing. You could ride home in this, now, just be damp on arrival. But you don’t get up.

“Eddie,” you murmur, gazing at him, the shape of him in the dark, the lines of his face. As familiar as your childhood, as unknown as adulthood.

“Yeah?” He mumbles, eyelashes fluttering and then his eyes open, wide and brown and warm.

His mouth is soft when you kiss him, the rustle of your face across the pillow to meet him, a chaste press of lips, a drawn out moment before he turns his head, his big palm sliding over your face, opens his mouth to kiss you properly.

He doesn’t kiss like your boyfriend, all punishing tongue that isn’t even that nice, really. He’s slow about it, measured, kisses you like they do in movies, lingering. For a long time there’s nothing but the rustle of the covers as you try and crawl into his chest, panting into his mouth as Eddie kisses you and kisses you and kisses you. He makes quiet sounds every now and then, his hands grabbing at you under the blankets, smoothing over your skin, calloused and rough. A man’s hands. You touch under his shirt, the muscle of his back, imagining the tattoos under your fingertips. He groans when you tug on his hair, and you smile into his mouth.

He’s careful not to to touch you. His hands on your ribcage, but no higher, no lower. You try and encourage, a leg over his waist, kissing open mouthed down his neck and listen to his cut off breath, but his hands stay on the curve of your waist, rubbing warm patterns.

“Eddie,” you say, finally, lips swollen, heart pounding, “You can touch me, if you want.”

He’s panting, chest moving quick under your hands. You can feel him against you, the hard line of him in his sweats, pressed into your belly.

“Are you sure?”

His sweetness is almost sore, your fingers skittering over his cheekbone to brush the hair out of his face.

“Yeah of course,” you say.

“Okay, just. Okay. Tell me if. If I do something you don’t like,” he says, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” you murmur, nudging your nose into his chin, wanting desperately to just be kissing him again, “I will.”

It’s only when his hand is finally, finally, up and over your breast, fingers brushing over your nipple, that you realise no one’s ever told you that before, ever checked. You pull him in tighter.

It feels like he’s a step behind in the dance, but it doesn’t feel disjointed, it just means you get the pleasure of seeing his reaction to every movement you make. When you sit up over him to take your shirt off, his eyes are wide and he makes this quiet, hurt sound, teeth sliding over his lower lip as he hands come up to to touch your tits, massage over them.

“That’s so nice,” you say, dropping your head down close to his, mouth over his jaw.

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie says, his voice by your ear, hot breath. You rock down onto him and he moans, his hands sliding down to your hips, up to your face, back to your boobs, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you the most.

“Do you have a condom?” You whisper, and for a moment the interaction is shocking, in a bell clanging kind of way. Sat on top of Eddie Munson, in his bed, in his boxers, asking if he wants to fuck you. But then he smiles up at you in this dopey kind of way, like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen, and it’s like the camera clicks over, and the picture is again soft and close and warm.

“Is that. Is that what you wanna do?” He asks, as if he’s not grinding you down onto him like he’ll die if there’s no friction.

You laugh, the words so sweet in his mouth, glide your hands over his chest, his shoulders, bring yourself low over him so your tits drag over his skin and you can kiss him again.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you say into his mouth, can feel the way his cock jerks against you.

“Okay, yeah, just let me. Hang on,” he says, doesn’t let go even as you slide off him, like he can’t bear it, still kissing you as he gets out of bed. You kick out of his boxers under the covers, watch him rifle through various draws, before he produces a battered box, shakes out a foil packet.

“Is this alright?” He asks, mattress dipping as he returns. You frown.

“Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Right,” Eddie says, crawling over you, the condom in his hand. His mouth on your breast, warm and wet, and you tangle fingers into his hair, holding him there. He’s attentive, learns quickly what makes you gasp and twitch, does it over and over again until you feel like you might die. He groans when he realises you’ve lost his underwear, bare underneath him, his hand hot and big slipping over you. You want to be embarrassed about how ready you are, can feel the way his fingers slip over you that you’re too wet, but he’s been so hard it must hurt for awhile now.

“Eddie,” you say, when he’s out of his sweats and you can feel the heavy weight of his cock on your cunt, “Please.”

“Yeah. I. Yeah,” he says, sitting back on his knees, opening the condom packet. His hands are shaking. You reach out, close your own around his trembling ones.

“Eddie, it’s okay. You’ve done this before, right?”

He huffs a laugh, shoulders sinking, “I. Yeah. I. No, I haven’t. But I want too, I really want too, if you just tell me what’s good I can. I’ll try and last, I - ”

He’s talking too much, untethered, unmoored. He looks silver in the light of the moon coming through the window, broad chest, the mess of his hair. Since when was the moon out? You drag him down to kiss him so he stops talking and think, the rain has stopped. The storm has passed. And Eddie Munson is a virgin.

“We don’t have too,” you say, hands sliding down his body, back up into his hair. Can’t stop touching his hair.

“I want too,” he’s insistent, panicky almost. He’s hot and hard against your hip, absent rocks for pressure.

“I just. I want it to be good for you,” he says, doesn’t make eye contact.

“It will be,” you say, and realise you’re not lying. It will be because it’s him, and his hands are so careful on you, his kiss so wanting.

“I’ll help you,” you whisper, touching his swollen mouth with the pad of your finger, “I’ll teach you, we can stop whenever you want, it doesn’t matter, just tell me if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t think I’ll wanna stop,” he laughs, breathless. You smile at him.

“Have you, like, done hand stuff before?” You ask, words awkward, but Eddie rolls his eyes, shakes his hair out of his face.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ve done hand stuff.”

“Alright, just checking!” You protest, wriggle your body under him, “Work your magic.”

“My magic?” He crooks an eyebrow, kisses the very tip of your nose, “My magic, she says.”

Then, his hand between your legs, his body to the side of you, hot and long, his mouth on your shoulder, your neck, your cheek. You think it will be like it is with your boyfriend, the only experience you really have to go on, two fingers pushing into you, perfunctory, just opening you up so he can get into you as quickly as possible. But Eddie is slow, sucks on his fingers before he touches you, so it’s slick skin and easy. He whispers to you, his mouth moving over your skin, as he rubs your clit, steady, slides down just to prod at your entrance before he withdraws, teasing, making you clench around nothing.

“That’s good, huh,” he murmurs, “That feels good? You’re so hot, oh my god, look at you.”

You’re so knocked out by it that you can’t do much but pant into his mouth, grip his wrist, move his hand where you want it. And he’s pliant, lets you manoeuvre him, kisses the air out of your mouth. Then one finger, sliding into where you’re hot and wet, not enough but so good, already pressing on a spot that no one but you has ever found.

“Eddie,” you whisper, half a sob, wanting more, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“Yeah, baby? Whatever you want, whatever you want,” he’s saying, and your heart thumps like a bullet, wanting to make him say baby again.

“More,” you get out, flush when he laughs, but he dutifully slides another finger into you, curls them in.

“Is that good?” He asks, and you groan, pressing into his body, sweaty and hot.

“So good,” you gasp.

Already, you want him desperately, your body searching for more of him, all of him, but the next part will be easier if you’ve already come, so you curl into his body, kiss him and breathe him in until you’re whispering, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, right there.”

“There?” He checks, and you can hear his hand moving inside you, slick and hot, his other hand rubbing steady circles on your clit.

“Yes,” you pant, head pushed back into the pillow, eyes screwed shut, “Yes, there, there, God.”

“Just Eddie is fine,” he says, breathless laugh, and you come like that, laughing at him, clenching around his hand between your legs.

He stays very still beside you, his fingers still in you, kissing gently on your shoulder until you can breathe properly again.

“Oh, hey,” you say, peeling open your eyes. He grins. He seems to be vibrating with energy, eager.

“Hey, you,” he says. You whine when he takes his hand away, wiping it on the sheets. Such a boy.

“You ready for the big show?” You ask, reaching for him between your bodies. He sucks in a breath when your hand closes around him.

“Take it away,” he says, his voice thin and wavering, eyes slipping shut.

“You have the condom still?” You ask, and he fumbles around in the sheets for a moment before he produces it, triumphant.

“It’s probably easiest if you’re on top,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, legs spread. Eddie nods, moving over you, sat back to roll the condom onto himself. Your hands move out without thinking, he’s hot and achingly hard, bending forward into your touch.

“Jesus,” he whispers.

“Nope, just me,” you say, grinning at getting him back. He flips you off. Your heart jumps with sudden fondness.

“Okay, come here,” you murmur, reaching for him, suddenly craving his return, the warmth of his body, the heavy, reassuring weight of him. You kiss him, wet and messy, before you reach down, guide him in to nudge against your opening. He’s breathing hard and quick, fists curled into the sheet.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you murmur, blinking open eyes to see his face. His jaw is slack, his brow furrowed with concentration, a needy glaze to his expression. You try to exude calmness and confidence in him, and not the shaking, urgent want to have him inside you, like, yesterday.

The push is slow, and he’s thick, opening you up where his fingers didn’t. The sound he makes is delicious as he slides into you, a relieved groan that goes right to your spine. The breath punches out of him as he sinks home.

“Good?” You whisper, voice hoarse from the way he feels, the stretch of him.

“So good,” he breathes, his lips moving over yours.

“Everything you dreamed of?”

“And more,” he teases.

You can feel him trembling, the urgency of his breathing.

“You can move, Eddie,” you murmur, shifting to wrap your legs around him.

“Yeah, I’m just,” he laughs at himself, drops his chin, “Just concentrating on something here.”

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Do that. But, it’s okay. I already came so, whenever is fine.”

“I don’t wanna end it too soon,” he says, and you push the hair behind his ears, kiss him. Can’t speak over the thickness in your throat. Want him so bad it hurts.

He takes some deep breaths, then pushes himself up onto his arms, withdraws, fucks back into you. The rhythm is off, at first, but he’s a quick learner, and you murmur, slower, then, faster, until he’s got it just right, panting, his chest glistening with sweat, and his necklace skipping over your collarbone as he fucks you.

“Eddie,” you gasp, fingers tight around his biceps, gazing up at him, “Eddie, Eddie, s’good, it’s so good.”

“Yeah? Like that? That’s how you wanna be fucked?” His voice is rough and instinctual and you feel like you’re going to explode.

“Yes, yes, God, yes.”

Eddie pants and groans and you vaguely notice the bed thumping into the wall but you can’t care about anything but him and how he feels.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m gonna. I’m close. Fuck,” he says, his voice thready.

“It’s okay, I want it, I wanna see,” you tell him, hands in his hair. There’s suddenly nothing you want more than seeing Eddie come. Fuck college acceptance. Fuck parental approval. Fuck everything. Just Eddie. He’s all that matters.

“Jesus, fuck,” he says, fucks into you once, twice, messily, and then a whole shudder goes through him and he groans out your name, twitching inside you as he comes. You pant and gaze up at him, enamoured. He collapses into your body, like all the strength has suddenly gone out of him.

“Oh my god,” he says into your neck. You laugh, tracing fingers down his spine, feeling him pant.

“Good?”

“So fucking good.”

“I’m glad,” you murmur, and you are. This is something you can hold forever, in a safe spot behind your lungs, that you took Eddie Munson’s virginity. That it will always be you. He’ll always remember you.

“Are you good?” He asks, and you smooth his fringe back to kiss his forehead.

“I’m good.”

It’s nice, having him lie on you, an anchoring weight, sweat drying tacky on your skin. The storm has passed, and outside you can hear the crickets beginning to start up, emerging from the ground to tell tales of the appalling weather to their brethren. You think Eddie might be asleep, but he sighs and slides off you, rolling onto his back. You look at him, suddenly unsure of your place, but he gets up, gets rid of the condom and crawls back into bed, drawing the covers up over you. He seems almost shy as he reaches to touch your belly, curve his hand around your hip.

“Are you sleepy?” He murmurs, tracing a bumping pattern over your ribs.

“Yeah,” you say, and find it’s true. You’re suddenly bone tired, sated. You let yourself wriggle closer, into the encircling warmth of him, and Eddie gathers you in. He smells like sweat and sex and boy and you want to breathe him in forever.

“Don’t snore,” you mumble, and he huffs a laugh.

“I’ll try.”

You want to remember the last time someone said they would try for you, try and make things good for you. No memory arrives.

“Can’t wait to hear all your secrets,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

After tonight, you think he might know them already. Outside, the crickets roar.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things #joeseph quinn x reader #joeseph quinn #*

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lvndryyhoe · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Charlie walker x reader fanfic ? There’s so little on this app 😭 nsfw if u can

yes ofc!! ur so right tho there’s no Charlie smut on this app dhskdhdkdb…

warnings: virgin!charlie, experienced!reader, smut, virginity loss, overstimulation, p in v, riding

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

you’ve had your eyes on the brown haired boy for a while now. you knew you could get whatever you wanted out of him, i mean, he’s in the cinema club for god’s sake…

- - - a few days ago - - -

you’re sat in your usual spot with jill and kirby when a tall figure comes up to you. “hm?” you hum at him. the boy snaps back into reality and clears his throat. “hi! i’m charlie walker, i’m looking for more people to join the cinema club. are you interested?” you look up at him for a brief moment with a confused expression. kirby snickers at your reaction. he opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but eventually walks away.

- - - present day - - -

you can’t stop thinking about that god damn boy. how hot it would be to see him writhe underneath you at the slightest touch. you’re so lost in your little daydream that you didn’t even notice the day was over. perfect. you thought, you’re going to go there now and try and get to know charlie a little better.

when you get there you crack open the slightly ajar door and see the boy sitting alone on one of the desks.

“hey charlie”

“oh- hey. hey y/n. i uhh, i didnt expect you to come!”

well i do.

you walk over to him, swaying your hips seductively.

once you get close to him he looks up at you. you’re both waiting for the other to make a move.

“y/n…please”

and with that you kiss him softly, you begin to straddle him and he leans forward simultaneously pushing his tongue into your mouth making you moan.

you get on your knees and unzip his jeans, getting rid of the constrictive fabric making him hiss at the sudden removal of his boxers. you lick an experimental stripe up his cock making him let out the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

you make your way back on his lap and mark his neck with bites followed by sucks. when you look at him he nods his head again, confirming he's ready. you sink onto him in one swift motion making him buck his hips up into your tight cunt, groaning at the unfamiliar feeling.

you clench your walls around him and continue to ride him, letting out moans when you feel his warmth spill inside you, painting your walls white. he tries to pull out of you but you push him into the table, bouncing harder on his cock. he lets out louder whines as his dick twitches from the overstimulation.

finally, you clench around him one last time before pulling off him. you press one last kiss into his sweaty forehead before walking off, leaving him covered in both of your fluids.

#charlie walker #charlie walker smut #scream 4 #scream #scream fanfic #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #charlie walker fanfic #lvndryyhoe #scream 4 fanfic

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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year

Text

You Take Me So Well - Warren Lipka

pairing: warren lipka x fem!reader

cw: corruption kink, vaginal sex, dry humping, fingering, pot smoking

wc: 2.6k

Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @witchyykitten

“What’s that smell?” you scrunch up your nose in disgust and turn to the college boy you’d been spending most of your time with the last few weeks, who was seated on the sofa in his parent’s basement, something lit between his lips.

“It’s pot idiot. Here, come sit,” your friend Warren pats the spot next to him on the sofa, and takes a draw of whatever was in his mouth, shortly followed by a large cloud of grey smoke. It smelt horrendous, but you noticed the way Warren’s body relaxed after he’d taken his first puff.

It spiked your curiosity, everything about Warren did.

You’d never thought you’d be spending so much time with a delinquent in his basement after he’d messaged you on Facebook, complimenting you on how pretty your hair looked and asking you if you wanted to grab a coffee. It was embarrassing enough that your mother had to drop you everywhere you went, and that you always had to lie and say you were spending time with your best friend Beth, but to not even know that Warren was smoking pot? How much more naïve could you get.

Warren knew this, he knew you didn’t have much exposure to anything at all. All you’d talk about is your strict parents; your Christian upbringing, how slutty your mother thought you were when you wore a skirt above the knee and your hair out to the cinema, how angry your father would get if you weren’t home before 9.

Well, it was half passed 7 now, and to your parents’ knowledge you were studying at Beth’s for an upcoming assessment in math.

You crossed your hands in your lap, suddenly feeling cold in the short denim shorts you were wearing. Warren has convinced you over the last few weeks that “life was too short” and “you can’t spend your whole life trying to make everyone else happy”. He was right, and it only made you feel more attracted to him.

You’d kissed, sure, and it was the first kiss you’d ever shared with anyone. It was magical, and it still replayed in your head over and over every time you glanced into his dark eyes and noticed the way a few curls would fall into them from his shaggy head of hair. He was mesmerising to you, your polar opposite, and every minute he wasn’t with you felt like agony.

“Want some?”

You were surprised to see Warren had passed the joint your way, holding it delicately in-between his fingertips as the end continued to burn red.

“How long will it last? If I take one puff?” you were always worried that you’d get caught, that your parents would find where you were, have a mini stroke and then never let you out of their sight again. It would only make it worse if you were high.

“I dunno,” Warren chuckled, his face suddenly blushed and the whites of his eyes tinged red, “maybe a couple hours? Depends how much you have, I guess.”

Your bottom lip wedged between your teeth as you weighed the pros and cons in your head, your heart racing just at the mere thought of the wrath of your parents. The devil’s lettuce, they’d convinced you it was, nothing but a gateway to hell.

“What did I tell you, my little good Christian girl, live a little,” Warren wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pushed the joint closer to your face. He knew you wanted to do it, and every second that passed steered you closer in that direction.

“What did I say we have to say before we do something?”

You turned to face Warren; his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning your face. It made your stomach tie in knots.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, your lips curling into a smile as you took the joint from his hand. Warren laughed, throwing his head back and clapping his hands in amusement.

“That’s my girl,” he said, making your face flush, “now just take it slow, one little inhale, straight in, okay?”

You took a deep breath, and before you could think about it anymore, the roach of the joint was tucked between your lips, and you’d taken the tiniest puff you thought you could muster. The smoke burned your throat, all the way down to your lungs. Pulling the joint from your lips, you let out a string of coughs, your eyes squeezing shut as they uncontrollably were being expelled from your throat.

Warren ran a hand up and down your back, chuckling softly to himself at your inexperience. He could feel your bra strap under his fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine.

He was just as captivated by your innocence as you were by his lack of. It shocked him now sheltered your parents had kept you, for so long, away from all the good things in this world.

“Warren- can you hold it?” you reach for the glass of water on the table, and bring it up to your lips, gulping down the cool liquid and letting it soothe your sore throat.

Your head was already getting cloudy, and it just showed how low your tolerance was.

Warren polished off the joint after that, his eyes fixed on you as you slouched back on the sofa, your eyes trained on the concrete ceiling and all its intricate little cracks.

“Warren?” you asked finally, after what felt like hours. The last thing you’d notice right now was your phone alarm buzzing in your bag letting you know it was time to start thinking of going home.

“Hm?”

You’d gotten into a position where you were now laying with your back to the sofa, your legs propped up on Warren’s thighs. His hands were placed high on your thighs, his fingertips drawing small shapes across your skin. Every time he’d trace your thigh, little jolts of electricity would shoot through your core, and it made you feel all fuzzy.

You shifted on the sofa, feeling the brush of your jeans shorts as they rode up between your legs, making blissful contact with your clit. You felt this warm wetness, like all the vile thoughts you were suddenly having of Warren formed a little patch of arousal in your panties. Why were you so much more turned on than usual right now? And why did it feel so good?

Warren noticed you struggling to speak, and pulled you by the arms, sitting you up on the sofa. He cocked his head to the side as he smiled slyly at you, noticing the way your breathing had suddenly laboured. He knew pot made you extra horny, and the way you were looking at him right now was the biggest indicator of all.

“I feel-” you couldn’t believe the words that were about to come out of your mouth, “can you make me feel good?”

Warren was taken back by your sudden request knowing you had never been so vocal about that before. You usually felt so guilty engaging in those types of activities, but with Warren here right now, nothing else mattered. Not even your phone as it insistently rung on the floor next to you.

“Are you sure?” Warren questioned you, looking between your doe eyes and your perfectly shaped lips.

“Yes- please,” you knew you probably sounded pathetic right now, but the urge to feel him was becoming increasingly unbearable.

Without hearing a response, you took your chances, and dived in towards him, closing the gap between your lips. Warren melted into the kiss almost immediately, his hands gripping your hips and moving you onto of him. You whimpered, straddling his thighs, feeling the obvious hard-on in the front of his jeans rub against you. It felt so much better than anything else you’d ever experienced.

Even with a dry mouth, Warren’s tongue darted into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to the side. You let him do whatever he wanted, explore your mouth with the eagerness and need that you shared.

His hips buckled up slightly, causing you to whimper against his parted lips, your core getting more and more heated by the second. You needed more, you needed to feel him so badly it hurt.

You disconnected your lips and began tugging Warren’s shirt above his head. He happily obliged, pulling it off and throwing it to the side, before he was tugging off yours too. Between heated kisses, you’d managed to get it off, now exposed to him in only your bra and shorts.

You both took a moment to stare at each other, your hands running down the planes of his toned chest and stomach, until you reached the button of his jeans. Warren groaned softly, his jeans painfully confining the erection he so badly wanted to take out right now.

“May I?” you asked politely, your head spinning, not being able to think of anything else but the man under you who’s heart was racing just as much as yours.

“Mhm,” was all Warren could muster, before his jeans were unfastened and pulled down his legs, too discarded on the floor with his t shirt.

You stood off his lap for a moment, so adamant to get out of your shorts that you kicked them off in almost lightning speed.

Warren stifled a laugh as you sat back down on your lap, his fingers tracing the frill at the hems of your white panties.

“Shut up,” you uttered, tilting your head back as Warren’s lips assaulted the soft skin of your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake, “mom won’t let me buy anything else.”

Now there was only the thin fabric of Warren’s plaid boxers and your panties in the way of feeling the skin on skin contact you craved so desperately.

“They’re cute,” Warren chuckled, coming up from your neck to connect your lips in another fiery kiss.

His hands cupped your backside, his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your ass cheeks. You rubbed against him, letting out soft moans at the feeling of his stiffness against you. His hands guided you to work at a faster pace, moving in rhythm back and forth across his cock through your underwear. Your urge to rub against something, your achy, throbbing feeling for pressure, was finally being fulfilled, and it felt otherworldly.

“How’s that feel baby?” Warren whispered in your ear, followed by a soft groan as he felt how wet you were through his boxers.

The knot in your stomach had gotten so tight, and your body felt so hot, it was almost nerve-wracking to experience. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were letting it happen.

“So good, Warren,” you moaned, dragging out every syllable as you continued to work your hips against his.

“Want more,” you whimpered, beginning to feel yourself clench around nothing, tingly and desiring to be filled.

“Like what?” Warren teased, biting down on his bottom lip as you got off his lap once more to take off your panties. The blush rose to your cheeks as Warren drunk in your appearance, wanting nothing more than to stretch you out and tear you apart.

“Can you go inside?” you asked nervously, never having been so exposed to someone else before.

“Come here,” he urged gently, patting his lap, pulling his boxers down to his knees as you settled back on his lap.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked again, his hand coming down between your legs. You waited anxiously for his fingers to touch you, and when they did move between your soaked folds, he easily slipped a finger inside you.

Your back arched as he pushed it in knuckle-deep, gently thrusting it inside you. It felt so good to be stretched out like that, by his big fingers as they worked inside you at a steady pace.

His finger curled, making contact with your spongey sweet spot, a moan leaving your lips from how good it felt.

“Holy shit,” Warren groaned into your hair as your head rested lazily against his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent and indulging in the way he touched you.

“Want something bigger?” he asked, and all you could do was nod in response against his shoulder.

He lined himself up at your entrance, and with a single thrust of his hips, his swollen tip was between your folds and urging to go inside. The stretch was too much to begin with, a lot of whining left your lips as he slowly lowered you down onto him. But when you’d sat fully on his cock, and had gotten used to his size, he began to piston his hips upwards into you.

“Oh, my goddd,” you almost screamed, letting out breathy moans to punctuate every slow thrust.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Warren spoke between grit teeth, trying his hardest not to cum right there and then from how good it felt to be situated between your gummy, pulsing walls.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, beginning to rise and fall on his cock all on your own, getting used to the momentum he was building.

“You take my cock so well,” Warren praised, “You’re doing so good baby.”

He let you ride his dick, unclasping your bra to let out your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth almost instantly. Your head lolled back, and the tight knot in your stomach was so close to untying, the curvature of his cock hitting all the right places and filling you perfectly.

The dull pulse in your core switched to a pleasurable ache, and soon you were unable to contain it anymore.

“Warren- I feel like I’m gonna pee,” you stopped your hips, suddenly scared and embarrassed by this sudden revelation.

“it’s not-” Warren shook his head with an amused grin on his face, “you’re gonna cum sweetheart, sit still.”

You hesitantly obeyed, gasping when you felt Warren’s wet fingers make contact with your swollen clit. He rolled it between his fingers, circling around the bud as the foreign feeling returned, and you’d let yourself go this time.

You came on his cock, his fingers gripping his shoulders so tightly you were sure to leave the marks of your fingernails in their wake. You felt Warren twitch inside you as you pulsed around him, whimpering and moaning as the feeling washed over you in waves. Holy fuck, you thought, I’m gonna be addicted to this feeling.

Warren thrust into you as you rode out your orgasm, finishing inside you with a few ravaging pumps. You collapsed onto of him, hearing his heavy breathing in your ear as you sat still, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

Warren moved your hair over your other shoulder, littering kisses up the curve of the side of your neck, having regained his breathing and not feeling so high anymore.

“How was that?” Warren asked in a whisper, although he knew the answer from how fucked out and tired you were.

“So good,” you mumbled your reply, not feeling as high anymore either.

Warren slipped out of you and laid your naked body down on the couch beside him, pulling you into his chest. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of his warm body so close to yours.

“Not such a good little Christian girl anymore, are you?” he teased, his fingers playing with your hair.

“Fuck it,” you responded, still ignorant of the tons of voicemails your parents had left you over the last hour.

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters requests #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #american animals #warren lipka smut #warren lipka imagine #warren lipka #warren lipka fanfic #warren lipka fanfiction #warren lipka American animals

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livyjh · 9 months

Text

Cinema

Joel Miller X AFAB!Reader

Fic based off this 🔞 gif

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: you and Joel get home from a date and can’t keep your hands off each other. Joel gets a naughty idea so that he can see you cum for him whenever he wants.

A/N: not related to Temptation at all!!! This is just a one shot I’ve been working on this week based off that deliciously filthy gif I linked at the top. I’m spoiling you guys 🩷

Warnings: oh boy, a lot. SMUT!!! Established relationship. Unprotected p in v (don’t do this!), fingering, squirting, making a sex tape/explicit video, anal play, soft dom Joel, use of “baby girl” and similar gendered terms towards reader.

Joel Miller Masterlist

****************************************************

You walked into Joel’s house with him, getting back from a fun date night. The second he’s got the door locked, he’s on you.

His lips crash against yours, pulling a whine from you. You put your hands on his chest and he reaches around to grab your ass, squeezing and massaging it as you make out.

“Take me to bed.” You breathe against him.

“Anythin’ for you.” He smirks and grabs your hand, the two of you heading upstairs to his room. Once inside, he throws a demand at you. “Take off your clothes.”

You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter under his gaze as you start to undress. First you take off your shirt, then your shorts, your bra, and finally your panties.

“On the bed for me, sweetie.” He grins.

You nod and do as you’re told, getting in the bed and laying back, legs spread slightly.

“Showin’ off for me?” He laughs darkly.

You smile, “yep.”

Joel smiles back and gets on the bed, spreading your thighs further with his large hands.

The cool air of the room hitting your labia was sending shivers up your spine, making you buck your hips once.

“Eager, huh?” He teases.

You bite your lip and nod up at him, a small smirk on your face. You watch him as he pushes his middle finger into you and starts thrusting it, the muscles and veins of his wrist flexing under the watch he was wearing.

Your pussy makes noise as he moves his finger in and out of you before he curls it upward and makes you throw your head back with a whimper.

“Wish I could see you like this all the time, whenever I wanted…” he trails off before getting a devilish grin on his face. “Got an idea. You trust me, honey?”

You moan softly, “y- yes.”

“Alright.” He nods and reaches in his back pocket with his free hand to pull out his phone. “Gonna make a little video… get some pictures too.”

You start to blush and close your legs as he takes a couple pictures of you.

“Come on babygirl, don’t start acting shy now.” Joel smirked at you as he hit record on his phone, pushing a second finger into you.

You spread your legs again and moaned for him as he began filming himself fingering you. “Don’t worry, this is just f’me. Ain’t no one else gonna see this.” He reassured you.

You nod as you feel your wetness leaking onto the bed beneath you. It wasn’t helping that him recording this to save for later was extremely arousing.

He’s thrusting his fingers slowly, but not so slow that you couldn’t feel yourself getting closer. If he kept up with this, playing with your g-spot, you’d finish soon.

“Joel, please.” You gasp softly.

“What do you want, baby?” He turns his phone to focus the camera on your upper torso and face.

“Faster.” You groan.

“Use your words, sweetie.” He encourages, slowing his fingers even more.

“Please, go faster, I- I wanna cum for you.” You let out a shaky breath.

“Alright. Since you’re bein’ so good.” He smiles and speeds his fingers up, hitting the sweet spot inside you with each thrust in.

“Yes!” You whimper as he focuses the camera on your wet cunt once more.

“Gonna be a good girl and squirt for me?” Joel asks in a sultry tone.

“F- fuck… yes.” Your legs begin to shake and his hand moves even faster now.

“Come on, pretty thing. You can do it. Just let go.” He coos.

You’re almost crying from how good it feels, rolling your hips up to meet his hand. He presses his thumb to your clit and it sends you over the edge.

“Yeah! Oh, fuck- Joel-!” You sob his name as liquid spurts from between your legs and onto Joel’s hand and bed.

“Fuck… look at you. Doin’ so good.” He praises as his fingers keep moving.

You reach down and grip his wrist as you start to come down and get sensitive.

He slows his movements until they’re stopped, his fingers pulling out of you, covered in your juices.

“You wanna taste, baby girl?” He asks, pointing his phone camera at your face as he lifts his fingers to your lips.

“Yeah.” You smile softly and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to lap at your own slick on Joel’s fingers.

“Atta girl.” He breathes, moaning quietly when your tongue starts to swirl around his digits. “Fuck. You’re so dirty, you know that??”

You nod and suck on his fingers. He waits a minute and then pulls his fingers out of your mouth before turning his phone off and putting it in his back pocket.

“If- if you wanted to…” you start to say something but trail off.

“What, baby?” Joel raises his brows with amusement.

“If you wanted to, um…” you blush. “You can make a video of us fucking if you want.”

“Dirty little girl… want me to take a video of you gettin’ filled up?”

You smirk and nod, almost giggling.

“Well, can’t say no to that.” Joel laughed. “Turn over. Ass in the air.”

You did as you were told as he stood up for a minute to shuck his clothes, holding his phone as he got back on the bed between your open legs.

He was hard as a rock when he hit record on his phone and angled it down to get a different view, both of your weeping cunt and his leaking cock.

“Gonna need you to be nice and loud f’me.” He breathed, swiping the head of his cock through your folds.

You nodded and shivered with anticipation, back arching, pressing your chest down into the mattress.

“Use your goddamn mouth, like I’m tellin’ ya to. Answer me.” He sighs, pushing into your cunt just slightly.

“Y- yes!” You huff a breath, clenching around what small part of him was inside you.

He made sure his phone was at the perfect angle to capture his thick member sliding into your wetness. The hand that wasn’t holding his phone moved up over your ass cheek, rubbing it softly until he was all the way inside.

You let out a long moan as he pushed in, gripping the sheets and curling your toes to ground yourself. “F- fuuuck.”

“Tell me what it feels like.” Joel orders.

“So full… fuck, it- it feels so good.” You respond in a whiny voice.

His hand moved up from your ass to your low back, holding you in place as he started to thrust… slow. Painfully slow.

“Pretty little pussy looks so good swallowing me like this.” He groans and switches the phone to his left hand. He uses his right to collect wetness from your sex before you’re surprised with what he does next.

“Joel-!” You gasp as his warm, wet finger circles your asshole.

You didn’t let Joel play back there very often, but you felt so tingly and sensitive… you couldn’t deny that the sensation was kind of amazing.

He was still moving his hips forward and back in slow thrusts, speeding up more as he began to slip a finger into your hole. The faster he went, further he went, the more you started to whimper with each movement.

You liked the stimulation, but you still needed to get used to how thick his finger was. But it was easy to ignore any discomfort when his hips speed up to a fast pace, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

“Oh god… fuck, that feels g- good!” You stutter when his fingertip wiggles inside you. You clench around his cock and his finger, a guttural moan coming from him in response.

“Yeah?? You like when I’m stuffin’ you full?” He asks, moving his phone in a bit to get a closer look at what he was doing to you.

“Yes!!” You cry out, his finger now halfway inside you. Thankfully, he kept it there, but was still wiggling it to get a rise out of you. “I’m g- gonna cum…” you whine.

“Okay, princess. Wait for me. I’m- ahh, fuck- I’m almost there.” He groans in his throat as his hips begin to stutter.

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ you mutter, squeezing both holes around him.

“That’s it- yeah… good girl. Fuck.” With that, Joel is spilling into you and you fall over the edge with him.

“Yeah! Ohh, fuck me… fuck me, baby.” You gasp as your cunt pulses on his cock and your asshole clenches around his finger.

Joel pulls his finger out, grabbing your hip with that hand to get a few final rough thrusts in. He begins to slow down, phone still focused between your legs as he pulls out. He moves his phone closer, watching his cum start to leak out of your pussy.

He stops the video and gets a couple pictures of the sight before locking his phone and tossing it onto the bed. Before you know what’s happening, head still spinning with pleasure, Joel is cleaning you up with a warm washrag.

He slips into bed behind you, kissing the side of your neck and wrapping an arm around your waist.

Your eyebrows knit together as you realize something. You and Joel can pretty much see each other whenever you want, at least when you’re not working or something. Why would he need videos of you when he’s got the real thing?

“Baby…” you hum. “Why do you need a video if you can just fuck me for real?”

He laughs softly against your skin. “For when you’re outta town with your family… or at work…”

“We work the same hours.” You giggle.

He’s silent for a second, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t embarrass him. “Sometimes… I need an extra long lunch break. Got to, uh, relieve a little stress.”

You laugh quietly. “Yeah, alright. Next time, I get to take the videos.”

____________________________________________

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter IV: Peace

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: Adapting to the Metkayina is harder on you than you thought it would be. Friction develops as both you and Neteyam's seeds of resentment for each other start to grow. Gideon discovers a secret in the forest that will change his purpose.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader, Lo'ak x Tsireya

Word Count: 11.8k words

Warnings/notes: smut(18+, minors DNI!), angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, SPOILERS for ATWOW

A/N: This chapter has probably been the hardest thing I have ever written - still finding writing the film whilst somehow finding a way to make it feel new and fit with the story extremely difficult. I tried to fit a lot of the Metkayina storyline in this chapter, but still have a long way to go, and so this will probably be a couple more chapters than I had originally planned. It was nice to reimagine the movie to fit the reader in, and I hope you enjoy reading about what I think went on behind the scenes we did get to see 🥰 Next chapter is when everything picks up and becomes angst-central, so enjoy this aptly named instalment x

Also, Lima Charlie means Loud and Clear, for everyone like me that was confused in the cinema x

Series masterlist (x)

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough if I can never give you peace?

Neteyam woke up naturally with the sun, something he has always been able to do. Whether willing or not, he has always been an early riser, ready to make the best of each day given to him by the grace of Eywa. It was strange sharing a tent with his family again, but he did enjoy hearing all the soft rhythmic breaths and the slight snore coming from his father. His attention swiftly turned to you, and he watched as you slumbered peacefully, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Your mouth was slightly agape and there were strands of hair fallen over your stunning face, that Neteyam reached over and moved. Atan..

He didn’t think you were ready to get up yet, so he gently removed himself from your loose grasp, trying not to wake everybody up as he did. His gaze shifted to a little blister pack, you said it was called, and his mood worsened instantly at the sight of the pills, those damned pills.

“What are these?” Neteyam picked up the little pill pack you took everywhere with you and the pills you took every day since you have become an Avatar just a couple weeks ago. “Is it for the virus?”

Neteyam watched intently as your gaze shifted from his, busying yourself with something else as the morning comfort faded away. You moved swiftly from the warmth of your new mate’s body and the sheets you were wrapped in all night, and went to your desk, where you struggled with your hair, untangling the pieces that were flowing freely down your back. You didn’t look at him as you answered.

“No, they’re not for the virus.”

Slight panic rose in Neteyam’s chest thinking of what these could mean. Were you sick again? Did the remnants of the disease in your human body transfer alongside your consciousness?

“Atan, you are starting to scare me. Just tell me what they are.”

You sighed and put down your brush, staring at the hands now tugging at each other in your lap.

“They’re birth control pills.”

“What are birth control pills?”

“They are pills so that you don’t get pregnant.”

There was a distinct pause in Neteyam’s mind, where his entire brain just stopped functioning for a little while. Neteyam knew that Mo’at has certain herbs and potions for situations where a pregnancy is wildly outside of what is appropriate, or for when the woman’s life is at risk, but neither situation seemed to apply here, and Neteyam couldn’t help the sudden pain and anger that seemed to rise in his chest.

“Why?”

You were picking at your nails cuticles so badly they were all bleeding and Neteyam found himself putting his hands over yours to stop it, the thought of the pain you were putting yourself through eating at him, above everything else.

“Atan… Just tell me. You’re my mate… and beyond that, you’re my best friend, my soulmate. I want to know.”

“I don’t want to have a baby. Not yet. I am still a baby myself, learning to take my first steps in this new world, in this new body - this new life. I have so much to learn, so much to live, so much I want to experience for myself first. I have been stuck in a lab for 18 years. I have been in pain and hurting and suffering my whole life. I am finally getting better, but there is still so much I need to do, so much growth I need to go through myself before I can take care of another being.”

“I also just don’t want to share you. Is that so bad?”

Neteyam thought about it long and hard, and felt the anger subsiding slowly. It made sense to him, although unnatural, but you are human. You don’t think about things the same way, and he has always tried to bear that in mind. And to be completely truthful, he wasn’t ready to be a father yet, either. He just got you. You had a lifetime to be a family, but once you have your first child, it will never be just the two of you again, and Neteyam also wanted to be selfish in his desire to keep you just for himself for now.

It’s been almost a year since that happened, and although most of his feelings remained the same, through time, a seed of hurt and pain was planted every time he saw you hurry off from his embrace in order to make sure you don’t miss any pill whatsoever. A hint of anger dwells in his soul every time you forget it and the subsequent terror that envelops your being, like the thought of having his baby was inconceivable to you, it was horrifying to you. Neteyam didn’t think he wanted a baby, but he definitely didn’t like how much you didn’t seem to want his baby. Neteyam knew he was being irrational, and the much more logical explanation was that, just like you have mentioned multiple times before, you were just not ready to be a mother yet, and it had nothing to do with him. But he couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that ate at him each time, regardless how much he tried.

He was so deep in thought, sitting with his legs in the water at the edge of the marui, that he didn’t even notice Kiri making her way outside until she placed a hand on him, making him jump slightly, which elicited a small laugh from his baby sister. He rolled his eyes, then sighed quietly.

“What is wrong, brother?”

“Soon, it will be one year since she and I mated”, Neteyam said, gazing at you, still sleeping peacefully in the tent.

“And that upsets you how?”

“It doesn’t upset me. I am so happy, happier I’ve ever been. Her and I, we’ve spent our whole life loving each other, exchanging longing looks and secret moments, I almost lost hope that she would ever be mine. For so long, I thought what I felt for her was impossible, what I wanted was wrong. And now she’s here.”

“I still fail to see the problem.”

Neteyam didn’t know if he should say this out loud. He hasn’t even thought it to himself, and he was now going to confess to another person, to his baby sister? He didn’t want to burden her with his issues.

“You’re right, there’s no problem.”

“Brother, you are the worst liar. Just tell me.”

“I feel like we are not in the same place sometimes. I feel I’ve grown, I feel like our relationship is in one stage, and I feel like she feels our relationship is a few steps behind.”

“I find that hard to believe. You two are the most connected people I have ever met. Sometimes it feels like you are constantly linked through Tsaheylu. It’s a little freaky, if I’m being honest. Have you talked to her about it?”

Neteyam finally removed his eyes from your form, looking at the water he was stirring with his feet and the fish that were swimming peacefully around him.

“I’ll take that as a no. Don’t you think you should? Before you jump to conclusions and drive yourself crazy?”

Neteyam saw memories flash across his mind’s eye, of you holding Tuk tightly as you slept in your tent and you teaching her and protecting her, and of the pills that haunted his dreams, and with a sigh, got up and decided it would be better to go for a quick walk.

Kiri rolled her eyes at her stubborn, closed-off older brother, and said “You haven’t grown if you still feel the need to keep everything inside and not communicate with the person you love most in the world. Also, do something special for the anniversary.”

“Already on it. Thanks, baby sis.”

Neteyam came back a little after everyone else was ready to get on with their days. His eyes immediately went to yours, and he saw you had a concerned expression on your face, eyeing him curiously. What’s wrong? You might as well have been screaming the words to him, they were so clear in his mind. He gave you a small smile, and shrugged minutely. Just a weird day. You scanned his face for more information, and he felt a small blush make its way to his face under the scrutiny of your gaze. You could read him like a book, could read most people like a book, and Neteyam always found your ability to see into people’s souls a little intimidating. He couldn’t keep secrets from you, and right now, there was one he kind of wanted to.

“Ok, Sullys fall in.” Neteyam heard his dad calling out to them all, and when he saw Lo’ak wandering around the marui aimlessly, he pulled him to his knees forcefully.

“Remember? Family meeting.”

His baby sisters both looked a little despondent - Kiri was still in a foul mood from the move and this whole ordeal and Tuk looked sad. Neteyam’s heart tugged at the sight, and then did some more when you pulled her closed to you and placed her in your lap.

“Ok, take a knee, let’s go.”

Jake looked only at him and Lo’ak as he spoke - figures.

“Now, I need you kids on your best behaviour. I mean it. Learn fast, pull your weight.” His eyes fell on Lo’ak. “Don’t cause trouble. Got it?” Neteyam chuckled at the specific need to address only Lo’ak, and he grabbed his baby brother’s neck affectionately, pulling at it. Lo’ak hissed in his brother’s direction and Neteyam let go, a little hurt at the overly defensive action.

You were nervous about today, you realised. Firstly, your mate seemed off. You were worried about him, in light of everything you two have been through in the past week, and you were hoping this whole situation wasn’t affecting him too much. You hoped being in the water, being together for the first time in a while with no looming threat of death and violence, of humans killing everything you hold dear, would ease his anxiety. Secondly, you weren’t looking forward to this, to being in this village with people who looked at you like you were a demon, where the spiritual leader hates you. It reminded you so much of your childhood, and how the Omatikaya eyed you down with disgust plastered all over their faces, with fear, with anger. You were not looking forward to reliving these experiences.

You were comforted slightly by the feeling of Tuk in your lap, and you were slowly running your hands up and down her arms when you felt slight shaking from her part. A small whimper escaped her lips, which made you painfully alert.

“I want to go home.” Your heart broke at her words, and tears filled your eyes as you took in her trembling voice and hunched body, almost as if she was trying to make herself smaller.

Jake took her hand in his and gently played with it as he spoke. “Tuk, this is our home now.”

He turned to face the rest of his family. “Now, we’re gonna get through this. We’re gonna get through this if we have each other’s backs.”

You were holding Tuk tightly in your arms, letting her cry it out in your lap.

“What does your father always say?” You heard Neytiri say in a calming tone, which brought comfort to your worried disposition.

“Sullys stick together.”

You met the girl, who you now knew is named Tsireya, and her brother, the annoying Ao’nung, at the edge of the village. You exchanged a few awkward interactions, taking in how Lo’ak withdrew in himself at the mere sight of your new beautiful friend, and laughed softly, poking him in the ribs, and much like his earlier interaction with Neteyam, you were met with an annoyed hiss. You laughed louder now - you were going to enjoy this.

The two siblings and their friend Rot’xo gracefully dove in the water, followed by Neteyam and Lo’ak. You, Kiri and Tuk were last, and you jumped in holding hands, trying to remember to hold your breath so as to not drown. You were not the best swimmer, and your anxiety built up at the thought of the struggle ahead of you.

Every feeling you had, every thought melted away instantly, the second your eyes took in the spectacle around you. A whole underwater world appeared in front you, and you struggled keeping your mouth closed, feeling the need to open it to showcase the shock you were experiencing. The most beautiful views you have ever seen, the most wondrous creatures and plants, plankton and coral, colourful and bright, unique and dazzling, taking your breath away if you had any to spare. You looked over at Neteyam, who had a similar expression on his face, and when your eyes met, you smiled at each other, as well as you could underwater. So the water did help. Good.

You glanced over at Kiri, who dove much further than any of you, and was fully immersed in the experience, touching all the fish that naturally seemed to gravitate towards her. You watch as the Metkayina kids swam deeper and deeper down, their tails undulating in the water and propelling them forward, an evolutionary advantage you lacked, and with the heartbeat you could feel painfully in your ears, you made your way to the surface. You gasped for air when your body found it again, trying to make up for the oxygen deprivation you experienced while in the water.

Soon enough, Neteyam, Lo’ak and Tuk joined you, trying desperately to catch their own breaths. You felt Neteyam’s hand reaching for yours under the water, and you felt happy his mood seems to have improved significantly in just the span of a couple hours.

“Bro, let’s go.” Lo’ak nudged you and went back in the water, and you and your mate exchanged an amused look. “Someone’s in looove.” You said laughing. Neteyam shook his head lightly, but smiled at your childishness. You took as deep a breath as you possibly could, and, still holding on to Neteyam’s hand, you both submerged, trying to actually go deeper in the water as opposed to just staring in awe until your lungs feel like they were exploding.

It didn’t take long for the need to resurface to become necessary, and you found yourself once again grasping for air trying to settle your breath. You saw Tsireya, Ao’nung and Rot’xo return from their deep dive, and with a gentle voice, Tsireya spoke, and her voice calmed you instantly. You were wondering if it had the same effect on your baby brother. You doubted it.

“Are you alright?”

A squeaky voice came from behind you. “You’re too fast!! Wait for us!!”

“Just breathe…breathe.”

An aggravating voice broke through Tsireya’s calm one, and you felt the twinge of annoyance taking over you as Ao’nung spoke in a mocking tone. “You are not good divers…maybe good at swinging through trees…” A smack in the head coming from his sister was duly appreciated, or you would have done it yourself if it hadn’t happened.

“We don’t speak this finger talk, guys. we don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I will teach you.”

Gideon was still in shock, still unable to process what he was told hours ago, in the dead of night, by a kid he’d rather never have met, if he was being honest. One of them is yours. One of them is yours. One of them is yours.

His own. His kid. How was that even possible? Jo wasn’t pregnant, was she? He thought all the kids were Sully’s, they are all blue. Did they manage to make you an Avatar? He thought that was impossible.

He had so many questions and not a single answer. It was driving him mad. It was killing him, not knowing. It would be long until he would be able to be alone with Spider again, and he had to know something. He had to find out anything. He made his way to one of the security rooms, where a few men in a uniform were attentively watching the many screens displayed in front of them. God, what a fucking boring job, Gideon thought.

“Morning, guys. I was sent by General Ardmore to review the footage from the train attack. If you can pull those up, that’d be great.”

“Right away, sir.”

He watched as the footage from all angles played on different screens, and he took his time rummaging through its entirety, focusing on one at a time. He recognised Jake and his wife, and winced as he saw the damage they were inflicting on the humans piloting the helos. In certain angles, he saw the pilots and gunners being shot down from a great distance, and saw fleetingly a girl on a white banshee, shooting a sniper rifle. His heart stopped in his chest. None of the other people were shooting a gun, outside from Jake, who was a marine. Everyone else was using bow and arrows. He can faintly make out the girl’s features, and he recognises her from the woods. She was the one by which they figured out they were Sully’s. She had 5 fingers and eyebrows, like an Avatar, and a mean aim. He watched in wonder as this kid shot gunner after gunner head and chest only, and felt a swell of pride overtake him.

Could it be? Could this possibly be true? Could this be his daughter?

Gideon stalked off as soon as he finished getting the information he wanted, and moved on to the lab where he knew Spider was being tortured for information. He had to put an end to this, now.

He heard the screams before he made his way in the room, and with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he entered. General Ardmore was standing on a platform and watching as the poor kid wailed in agony. He didn’t pay much attention to it, going straight for Quaritch, who was also watching, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t think he was enjoying this either. This was his son, after all. No louder than a whisper, Gideon approached Quaritch. “We need to put an end to this.”

The commander turned his head in Gideon’s direction, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. “Why would we do that?”

“Because you know as well as I do that this is fucked up. This is your fucking son, Quaritch.” Gideon saw a flash of guilt and sadness pass over his face, and he was surprised to find out Quaritch did indeed have a heart, albeit a small, tiny, inconsequential heart, but there nonetheless.

Feeling empowered by the silent confirmation, Gideon went to the machine and pushed the big glaring button that meant the stop of the torturous process. His general turned around with a feral look on her face. Crazy bitch, Gideon thought.

“General, we can use this kid. This kid’s been with the Sullys for 19 years. He has lived amongst the Na’vi, he knows his way around, knows everything about Pandora, about the Omatikaya. He’s loyal, he won’t give them up. But maybe if we try the…personal approach,” he said, looking at Quaritch, standing limply on his left, “we might get better results. He can teach us the ways, the language, he can help us integrate better in the environment, so we can travel the Hallelujah mountains easier, and find them faster.”

Gideon saw the she-devil processing his words carefully, and he knew he won. He was one step closer to his daughter, and nothing was going to stop him from finding the truth.

You watched as Ao’nung stepped forward and clicked his tongue rapidly in the direction of the open sea, and you watched in amazement as a few beautiful sea creatures made their way to him, circling all of you docilely. Your gaze fell on your mate, who was holding his baby sister up in his arms, the chiseled muscles of his limbs on full display, and between the way your ovaries throbbed at the sight of him being so paternal, so protective over the child, and the sight of his incredible body, you were just about a puddle of desire, grateful to be surrounded by water for once.

“These are ilu.” The Metkayina boy’s voice pulled you out of your indecent musings, and you tried to focus, tried to learn. “If you want to live here, you have to ride.”

After hours and hours of pure torture, you were ready to admit to yourself you hated this, and you sucked at it, which probably contributed to that feeling. Turns out riding the equivalent of a baby ikran underwater and being thrashed around every few seconds because you didn’t have the lower body strength to hold onto it was not fun, and by eclipse, you were tired, wet, grumpy and definitely ready to call it a day. You were at least a little happy to know that the two Sully boys didn’t fare any better, but you were a little jealous of Kiri and Tuk, who seemed to fit in right away, and they were already riding their ilu to your family’s marui for the night.

You could see Neytiri and Jake chatting over the fire, smiles on both their faces, and you felt a wave of contentment envelop you at the sight. Maybe you could all begin to heal, in the midst of this untouched, tropical beauty, far away from the threat that was plaguing you in the forest. Maybe you can learn to live without fear again, or for the first time in your life.

You were walking towards the tent when you felt a soft hand wrap around your waist, pulling you snugly against a strong, taut body. Neteyam’s breath fanned across the side on your face as he whispered lowly in your ears, sending pulses of electrical current down the column on your spine.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, needy and full of desire, and your stomach filled with messy, energetic butterflies. “Wherever you want me to?”

“Good girl.”

You walked all the way through the village and towards the forest, and called for your ikran, that you spent a little quality time with - the whole ilu business made you realise how much you loved Neyn, and how irreplaceable to you she’ll always be. She was feeling a bit down, you could tell when you bonded, and you knew she also missed her home, just like you all did. You gave her a few treats, some fish you managed to get a hold of on the way here, and you were off. Eclipse rides with your mate was one of your favourite ways to spend your nights, but whatever you were about to do would definitely always be the top contender. Nevertheless, the bliss of the open air against your face, the races and the laughs as you bumped into each other, the feeling of the wind taking your breath away, the thrill of the power coursing through your veins as you went so fast the whole world blurred around you - nothing would ever compare.

You sighted a small island - island is probably a generous term for this patch of sand with one lone tree adorning it, and you both landed on it, Seze a few seconds before Neyn.

“And the master wins… again.” He says cockily, with a mischievous smile as he dismounts and reaches for you, and you jump from your banshee straight into his arms. He catches you, as he always does, and his hands find your ass as your legs wrap around him.

“I let you win.” You look at his beautiful face and you laughed when you saw him giving you a look that you assumed was the equivalent of raising his eyebrow at you.

“What’s your punishment for this face, huh? Whenever I do it, you tell me I need to be taught a lesson.”

He pretended to think about it for a second.

“Huh, I think either way you’re the one getting punished.”

You smacked his arm playfully and feigned indignation.

You loved when he was playful. It happened rarely, as he has always been a serious, no-nonsense kind of a guy, but when it did, there was no one who shone brighter, no one whose eyes sparkled more, no one who made the world more beautiful. He put you down on the ground gently, and his soft lips found your forehead. It was such a simple gesture, but so intimate, so heartwarming that your heart picked up pace in your chest. “I love you.”

“I love you more, Atan. I need you to remember that, cause it won’t feel like that in the next couple hours.”

Your mouth flooded with saliva at his words, and the warmth in your chest swiftly moved in between your thighs and you remember that it’s been a while since you were alone, a while since you felt his hands and mouth on you, in you, the only place they belonged.

He took the blanket he always kept on Seze and spread it on the warm, soft sand, and motioned for you to lay on it, which you were more than happy to do.

He slowly started removing his adornments, much easier job now, having left the Omatikaya jewellery and cummerbund behind, leaving him in only his loincloth and the bracelet he refused to ever take off. He saw your breath quicken laying on the blanket and you parted your legs for him, like on command. “Now…before we were rudely interrupted by Lo’ak in our tent, I was asking you to be quiet for me. I think I’d like to see that now. Do you think you can keep quiet for me, baby girl?” The look you gave him drove him feral, and his loincloth was hurting him, painful against his hard-on, twitching wildly, begging to be set free, begging to feel you - to fill you. He slowly got on top of you, planting kisses on your body, purposefully avoiding your needy core.

“Neteyam…”

“Shh, Atan, what did I just say?”

He removed his mouth from your body and came face to face with you. “I said we have to find a way to keep you quiet. How is this for a way? You don’t keep that beautiful mouth shut, I stop.” He laughed at the way you squirmed underneath him, raising your pelvis trying to get some release, any sort of friction, but he skilfully avoided you, and continued his onslaught, lips and tongue all over your beautiful body, that he couldn’t wait fuck until you were crying with your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

“So fucking unfair.”

“All in good time, my love.”

Torturously, he made his way to your belly button, and slowly descended, taking both of your legs and placing them on top of his shoulders, until he could feel your heels on his back. You were too far gone to see anything around you, so fucking desperate you were sure you were ripping the blanket by how tightly you were coiling it around you hand. This was torture, agonising torture, and you felt your ass dripping in juices from how wet you were. You wanted to scream, you wanted to let this island, the village, the whole world know what he was doing to you, how wild the feelings you were experiencing ran. You wanted to cry out his name in pleasured moans , falling from your tongue like a litany, like a prayer to never stop, to never take away this feeling.

He saw how desperate you were by how hardly you were biting down your lip, so hard he was sure he could see blood, even in the dark. His poor Atan, so damn needy. He would have to make it up to you.

You moaned loudly when he inserted two fingers in your drenched core, and left them there, unmoving and cruel.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just move, please. Please.” You started grinding against his fingers, trying to get your own release. He removed his fingers and looked at you sternly. “Do you know what happens to bad girls, Atan?”

You panted wildly but said nothing, refusing to look at him. He rose from the position he was in and faced you again, opening you mouth with the two fingers he had in you and pushing them down you throat. You sucked on them, loving the taste of yourself on him, wishing it was his dick instead. You licked his digits clean and it was his turn to moan, to which you raised an eyebrow. “Unfair!”

“All’s fair in love and war, baby girl. You taught me that.”

He removed his fingers from your mouth and was trailing them down your throat and chest, until he reached your nipples, that immediately hardened upon contact. He flicked them in between his fingers and placed his mouth on one, sucking and licking til they were sore, after which he moved to the other. You were bruised now, hickeys all over your body except in the one place you wanted. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and he knew the need was becoming too overwhelming for you to bear.

“I think you’ve suffered enough. I need to fuck you now.” He plunged three fingers back in your desperate core, and he started pushing in and out of you with slow, languid motions, knowing exactly which spot to hit to make you see stars all around you. His mouth then followed, sucking and licking masterfully at your clit, unrelenting in his attempts to ruin you. You tried so hard to keep quiet, and you were doing so well, only the lewd sounds of his onslaught could be heard, sloppy and hot and you came all around his fingers and mouth, biting hard into your arm til blood came out to keep silent.

“That’s my good girl.” He licked the cum dripping over his fingers and moaned at the taste.

“You should taste yourself again, Atan, you taste unreal.”

“Only if it’s licking it off your cock.” He growled at you like an animal, and you could hear the loincloth ripping at the stitches as he pulled on it with such ferocity it would be scary if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You are such a little slut, aren’t you? Always wanting to suck my dick, you like milking me dry, don’t you, Atan?” He pistoned in you with enough strength you let out a pained cry, and there was no warming up, no slow burn, no building anticipation about the way he fucked into you until you felt he was going to break through your cervix. You still tried to keep quiet, the sounds of skin on skin slapping and his balls hitting the underside of your ass over and over the only ones you could hear and it was maddening, the pace, his look, the way his biceps were bulging to allow him to keep this ruthless pace, the way his abs contracted over and over to get him deeper and deeper in you, the way he lowered his mouth on yours and licked the blood from your bottom lip that was dripping from when you bit into it, it was all too much, and you felt yourself nearing that second orgasm, desperate for his cock to fill you up.

“That’s it, baby girl. Come all over my cock, let me see what a good girl you are. Let me hear you, Atan.”

At his permission, you came so hard you felt like you were going to pass out, loud shrilly moans escaping your lips with no concern for his previous command anymore, or the thought of anyone hearing you. Let them hear, let everyone hear how well you were being fucked on a nightly basis.

He removed himself from your still throbbing heat, and didn’t give you time to come down from the high, as he scooped you up from the blanket and took your place.

“Come on, baby, sit on my face. I want to come in your mouth.”

“Neteyam, I can’t..”

“Yes, you can, baby. Come on, let me make you feel good.”

You did as you were told, and gasped when your pussy made contact with his mouth, and his tongue immediately found your insides, fucking you with it like you didn’t just cry in pleasure from your last mind-numbing orgasm. You reciprocated though, licking his cock from balls to tip, loving the taste of you on him. You sucked on him like he was your favourite lollipop, which he was, teasing and licking the slit of his tip, taking him all in and moving your head up and down while pumping the base with your hands. He moaned loudly in you, the vibration making you clench around his tongue. You started grinding aggressively on his face while he fucked your mouth and you felt thick spurts of cum sliding down your throat as you cried out from the overwhelming sensation, slightly overstimulated, but deeply satisfied. You licked the last drops of cum from the tip, smiling as you felt him do the same with you. You learned in time that nothing gets wasted on Pandora.

It took Kiri and Tuk no time at all to learn the ways of the Metkayina, and you wish you could say the same about yourself, but in reality, you were struggling - a lot. It was taking a toll on your mental health, as you have never struggled with learning anything new your entire life. You prided yourself on your intelligence and self-sufficiency, on your prowess to always excel at any new tasks. You were trying to give yourself some grace, as you have only learnt to swim properly in the last year, and even then, you were doing it mostly as a fun post-training activity with Neteyam, never as a serious endeavour.

On a positive note, you and Tsireya bonded over your love for the ocean, pretty jewellery - she commented on multiple occasions on the bracelet adorning your arm, which lead into a deep discussion into the best places to find shells and stones fit for a Metkayina warrior, that she was sure you would be in no time -, your maternal care for Tuk and your mutual admiration for a certain Omatikaya troublemaker. You were over the moon to observe the pure, puppy love developing in between your favourite brother and this beautiful, caring, smart and gentle girl, who looked at Lo’ak like the sun rose in his eyes, just like you told him someday someone would.

“Breathe in…” Tsireya says in a calming tone, as she follows her own command. “And breathe out. Imagine flickering a flame. You must slow down your heartbeat.” You watched as she placed both her hands on Lo’ak’s body, and you could tell he was hyperventilating inside just by the look on his face.

“Breathe in. Breathe from down here.” She instructs with her hand on his torso. “Breathe out slowly.”

It was taking all the effort of your being to not start laughing at your baby brother, who was staring at his newfound flame like she was the only person in the world.

“Lo’ak. Your heartbeat is fast. Try to focus.”

“Sorry.” he says meekly, and you couldn’t stop yourself - a small chuckle that you tried to no avail to mask as a cough. You turned your face towards your mate, who was also snickering silently, and you both reached for each other’s hands, gleefully reminiscing about your own beginnings.

“What’s this?” Tsireya liked to come by your marui, she did so often, even when there was no one else around but you. You found yourself alone a lot more often these days, as Jake was training with the Olo’eyktan, Neytiri with Ronal, the rest of the siblings were always out in the water, and you found it hard sometimes to find your place in this new life, in this new world. In time, you and Netetam spent less and less time together - he was working hard, as he always was, to make sure he was doing well and pulling his weight. You felt a bit jealous over the fact that you no longer felt important to the kids, especially to Tuk, who now spends most of her time with the Metkayina girl, going as far as to adopt her way of dressing. It’s been a while since you and Lo’ak were alone and bonded over your many shared interests, as all his attention was now swiftly placed on the girl sitting in front of you. Between all of that, your hardships adapting to the new environment and feeling the gaping hole that the forest and leaving Norm and Max left in you, you ended up alone a lot, in this Marui that you learnt every square inch of.

Your gaze turned towards what she was pointed at, and fell on your guitar. “It’s called a guitar. It plays music.” You smiled at her. You liked Tsireya, and didn’t feel any resentment towards her, despite what the darkest parts of your being told you. She had a kind soul, a brave heart. And if there was anyone to replace you in Lo’ak and Kiri and Tuk’s heart, you were happy it was her.

“Can you show me?”

“Sure I can, but only if you ask me in English.” That was one of the things you have liked the most about being here - your daily English and Sign Language lessons with Tsireya. She taught you, you taught her, and it was the only thing you felt good at, so you always looked forward to it.

“Can…” you encouraged her with your expression, urging her to go on. “..you…see…me?”

“Show.” She smiled apologetically, a small blush colouring her cheeks.

“That’s great, Tsireya! You’re getting better every day.”

You picked up the guitar and tuned it quickly, and then played a familiar tune, humming mindlessly as your fingers glided across the strings.

“You have a beautiful voice. You should sing more, you should sing during our communal dinners.”

You smiled a small, sorrowful smile. You used to do that in the clan all the time - your clan. You wondered if this would ever feel the same.

“Why are you so intent on learning English? I mean, you have no real use for it.” You knew the answer as you asked, but you were curious to see her fumbling for an explanation outside of ‘I’m desperately in love with a boy who is half human and speaks English every day with you’.

It was just as amusing as you imagined it, and you felt a little bad for how hard she was blushing as she was picking at nothing on her loincloth. “It just seems useful, with all the humans that are plaguing our planet.”

“That makes sense… you can also just admit you like Lo’ak, you know?” You placed a hand on hers, trying to get her to stop messing with her clothes. “He likes you too, you know?”

You smiled widely at her doe-eyed expression, so overcome with happiness, your mood shifted instantly to one of hope, that at least something good came of all of this.

Gideon watched as Spider and Quaritch made their way to the helicopter they were all huddled in, and he felt grateful that the kid didn’t have to suffer anymore. As soon as he was inside, he immediately gripped the gun posted in the door, and Gideon reached over and pushed him on the seat.

“Woah, hold on there, hot shot.”

Quaritch was not far behind, and when he entered, he grabbed his son by the arm and spoke to him. “You listen up. There’s a tracker built in that mask. We hit the ground and you take off, I’ll have you back in two minutes and give you an old-school ass whipping. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Avatars landed in the midst of the forest, huddled together to listen for instructions from their commander.

“Ok, listen up. Jake Sully’s gone underground. Don’t matter. Wherever he is, we’ll find him… and his batshit crazy wife too. To do so, we go Na'vi. Full tilt all the way. That means we eat Na’vi, we ride Na’vi, think Na’vi.”

“And that starts with speaking the language.” Gideon knew a little more Na’vi than most soldiers, having learnt it in time from his beautiful Jo. He knew enough to know Quaritch was butchering it, and badly. He heard Spider snicker mockingly.

“Is that what you call speaking Na’vi?” Spider continued, but Gideon didn’t pick up what he was saying.

“Alright, smart guy. You just went from being our monkey mascot to official interpreter.”

It’s been a few weeks since you have arrived in Awa’atlu, and things were slowly moving forward. You were getting slowly - very slowly - better at this whole water thing. This morning, you decided to leave Neteyam alone with his parents for a while, thinking it would be beneficial for them all to spend some time together, outside of military training and practice. You and Kiri settled on going to the beach and just enjoying the clear warm water and endless sandy shores. You loved spending time with Kiri, and you felt guilty that it’s been a long time since you were just the two of you, alone together, talking about everything and nothing, just being in each other’s presence enough to fill endless amounts of time. You always felt connected to her, and you had a lot in common, which has always brought you two together. You used to spend many an hour just discussing your mothers, going through footage of them both, trying to understand the biology as children, just so you can feel closer to them, feel like they weren’t gone.

You were laying together on the sand, laughing at something she said, when she became a little more serious and turned her gaze to you.

“How are you? Like really?”

You were a little taken aback by her line of questioning, and the sudden shift in the mood of the conversation. You thought about it for a second.

“I don’t know, to be honest. There’s just a lot going on, a lot of new to adjust to. But then again, we are all going through the same things, so I can’t complain.”

“Well, we are not all going through the same thing. It’s only one of us whose father rose from the dead and is now attacking us. Well, actually…” Her voice faded when she realised, and a small tears fell down her cheek, before she quickly brushed it away with her hand.

“I’m sorry about Spider, Kiri. I know how much he means to you. But I think you shouldn’t be too worried. He’s a tough kid, this knucklehead brother of ours, and he’s going to be back with us in no time.”

“I hope so.”

“Do you think you’ll ever reach out to your dad?”

You scoffed, resigning yourself to drawing little figures in the sand. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. And I don’t think there’s any point. He’s always been dead to me, why change anything now?”

Kiri rolled her eyes at your stubbornness, but to be fair, he couldn’t blame you for not wanting to relive a part of your traumatic human life.

“Let’s go in the water.”

You were both just looking at the sand in the water, her - just because she liked it, you because you needed to get better at breathing underwater and fast. She was laughing as she watched you struggle and you almost drowned, but then continued for a while, enjoying yourselves until turquoise feet came into your line of sight. You brought your head out of the water and saw Ao’nung and Rot’xo, as well as two other Metkayina boys you have never met before.

“What? What’d you say?” Said Kiri innocently. Neither of you heard whatever it was they said just a few seconds ago, but based on their mocking tones and faces, you assumed you were about to get very angry.

“I said, are you some kind of a freak?”

You hissed, barring your much larger canines at the people in front of you, placing a protective arm in front of your baby sister.

“No…” Kiri continued, trying to move away from them, but they were unrelenting, following you across the beach.

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re not even real Na’vi. I mean, look at these hands. Look at them.”

You pushed the boy as he reached for your hands, and Lo’ak’s voice broke through all the noise, bringing all the attention to him.

“Back off, fish lips.” He walked until he was so close to Ao’nung, he started backing away to maintain the distance between them, but continued laughing and insulting your appearance.

“Oh, another four-fingered freak.”

They all got impossibly close to you, starting to touch your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a blue form moving quickly towards you, and you knew instantly who it was, and you were now worried for the men currently harassing you. Neteyam put his body in between yours and the Metkayina’s, aggressively pushing Ao’nung away. God, he was hot. You were a lucky girl, you thought to yourself, smirking at the new development.

“Back. Off. Now.” A flash of fear crossed Ao’nung’s face, and with his stupid smile wiped off, he brought his arms out in defeat, backing slowly away from all of you.

“Smart choice.” Neteyam was fuming, you noted by his tone and voice, but he maintained his calm demeanour, always choosing to try the non-violent way first, if possible.

He looked at each one of the boys individually, before he continued. “From now on, I need you to respect my family.” He placed a gentle hand on Kiri’s shoulder, silently telling her to leave, and he did the same to Lo’ak, who kept looking back at the perpetrators. Your eyes locked and you thanked him silently, to which he gave a soft smile, before clicking his tongue in Kiri’s direction, asking you to follow. As you did, you notice Lo’ak falling behind, until his body was fully turned away from you and the rest of his siblings.

“Lo’ak.” You snarled in his direction, knowing all too well where this was headed.

“Don’t worry, sis. I got this.”

Those words have literally not once not made you worry.

He made his way back to where all the boys were, and stopped only when he was in front of the Olo’eyktan’s son.

“ I know this hand is funny.” He says, bring his hand into view, twisting it around to show it from every angle. He points his pinky, raising it even closer to Ao’nung’s face. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien.”

“But it can do something really cool. Watch. First, I ball it up really tight like this, ok? And then -“ you watched as Lo’ak punched him straight in the nose, and then twice more, in the chin and cheek. “It’s called a punch, bitch. Don’t ever touch my sisters again.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at Lo’ak, but were a little impressed with his technique, that you knew Jake would be proud of under normal circumstances. A full-blown brawl emerged, a tangled mess of limbs and tails, and you saw Neteyam scratch his face and huff in amusement, joining in to stand up for his brother. In any other conditions, you would be mad about this, mad about Lo’ak’s immaturity and Neteyam’s interference, that you knew would cost him a big scolding from the Sully patriarch, but you couldn’t help the little smirk and swell of pride that overtook your being, watching your two men trash the four Metkayina boys, watch them get what they deserved for the weeks of incessant bullying. You and Kiri both started laughing, just watching and enjoying the show, before you felt like it had gotten far enough, at which point, you decided to break it apart, and take your family home.

Neteyam watched his dad’s body go stiff as soon as his eyes landed on his two sons, who were bleeding and bruised, and knew he was in for the ass-kicking on a lifetime. He felt mildly comforted by your being, knowing his father never lost it as much anymore when you were around. As you entered the marui, you instantly went to your medical bag, and left them to their own devices.

“What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?”

“Stay out of trouble.”

“Stay out of trouble!”

“It was my fault.” Neteyam put his hands up in defence, positioning his body between his father and baby brother’s. He heard a low growl coming from where you where, and he saw his dad look over to you, taking in all the information he was receiving.

“Yeah, I don’t think so. You have got to stop taking the hit for this knucklehead.”

“Look, dad, Ao’nung was picking on them. Called them freaks.”

Their dad stopped in his tracks, eyeing them intently, then sighed deeply. He knew then the fight was over. Jake Sully could stand a lot, but disrespect to his own family, especially his daughters, will not be tolerated.

“Is this true?” He saw his eyes go back to where you were, and Neteyam watched as you made your way back to them with supplies in hand.

“Yes, it’s true. Jake, they have been bullying us for weeks. I don’t care about myself, but it’s getting to Kiri. They had it coming.”

“You’re not helping.” Jake rolled his eyes at his new daughter, but couldn’t hide a ghost of a smile.

“Go apologise to Ao’nung.”

“He’s the chief’s son, do you understand?”

“I don’t care how you do it, just go make peace. Just go.”

“Hello? Let me at least clean their wounds first. Lo’ak!” But it was too late, as with a shake of his head, Lo’ak was gone. You turned your head to his father, with a cross expression marring your features.

“I know you’re unhappy, but there’s rule of conduct that has to be followed. You are Na’vi now, it’s time you learn.”

You rolled your eyes, but said no more. You motioned for Neteyam to follow you outside, and he did, before turning back around when he heard his dad’s voice.

“Hey…so what’d the other guys look like?”

Neteyam smirked. “Worse.”

“That’s good.”

“A lot worse.”

With a small smile, his father pointed at where you stood. “Get out of here. And keep an eye on your brother.”

You felt intense annoyance overtake your being as you were patching up Neteyam yet again, for - yet again - another one of Lo’ak’s reckless decisions. You said a silent prayer to Eywa that at least this time it wasn’t as serious, but still, it brought back many painful memories and many unresolved issues within you. You found yourself angry yet again, at your baby brother, at your mate, at your surrogate dad, who all were happy to let Neteyam take the fall for everything. You’d hoped with the Olo’eyktan pressure out of the way, things would change. You hoped that he would finally be safe, finally yours to keep, so you can shake off this feeling that you were going to lose him and move on - move forward, start a family in time. But he wasn’t ready. It was made clear to you again today, like it has been many times before.

“Atan…”

You didn’t want to bring it up yet again, this conversation you have had one too many times, so you continued cleaning his wounds, mostly found on his face. His lip was bleeding, and he licked the blood off which he regretted when you smacked him across the arm.

“Stop that. Let me clean it.”

“Let’s go for a swim, just you and me? I feel like we don’t get that much time to ourselves anymore.”

You sighed as you continued patching him up, feeling tears swimming in your eyes. You chewed on your bottom lip mindlessly, trying to ignore all the feelings of inadequacy that have been plaguing you for weeks, trying to ignore how your heart sank at the thought of the home you left behind, that you couldn’t seem to forget as easily as everyone else did.

“Life was easier when swimming just meant splashing around in the river of our clearing and you carrying me around like I was a doll pushed away by the current.”

“It was, but this can be easier, too. You just have to want it, Atan. You are not a doll anymore, but a rock - unwieldy and unmoving against the current. You have to remember what it’s like to just let yourself go with it, and see where it takes you. I miss home too, so much I will never be able to express into words. But I also want to make the best out of a bad situation. So let’s go, just you and me, let’s swim. Let’s flow with the current.”

“I always thought I was the philosophical one.”

“You’re the science-y one, and I still have some aces up my sleeve.” He winked at you with his boyish smile you loved so much, and you knew he was right. You could be making more of an effort.

“Fine…”

You were happy you went with him. Turns out swimming just for the sake of swimming and not trying to compete or not make a fool of yourself was liberating you and making you perform better, and in no time, you managed to break your own - albeit unimpressive - breathing record. You both called for an ilu, and just enjoyed yourself, admiring the beauty all around you, admiring each other, tumbling and doing acrobatics on the back of your new marine friends. You both came up for air at the same time, and he had an awe-struck look to him, and you felt blood rush to your cheeks at how he was staring you down.

“See, Atan? You’re annoyingly good at everything you do, you just needed a good teacher.” You both laughed at his comments, and you raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Are you saying Tsireya’s not a good teacher?”

“No, I think Tsireya’s a great teacher. You just need a… more assertive presence.”

“Is that so?” You say with the same expression on your face.

He growls lowly. “Let’s go back in before I show everyone in this village things they will never be able to unsee.”

You were actually impressed with yourself by eclipse, as you have made more progress in one day than you have in weeks. Tired, but content, you made your way out of the water, your mate close behind you, when Ao’nung came by in a hurry, panting - fear clear on his features.

“… I…”

“Just spill it, what did you do?”

“It was supposed to be funny…”

“What was supposed to be funny, dumbass?”

“I think Lo’ak’s in danger.”

Both you and Neteyam came to a halt, breaths hitched as you took in the boy’s words. Neteyam’s face immediately changed to one you knew well, one that Ao’nung cowered at, one that was forged in time by years of being the future Olo’eyktan.

“What. Did. You. Do?” He spoke lowly, purposefully, enunciating every word.

“He came to apologise, but he did it as a joke, so we took him to Three Brothers and left him there. We thought he’d be back in no time, but it’s been hours and his ilu came back missing part of its fin. It was supposed to be funny.”

You hissed at the same time Neteyam snarled in his direction, moving his body towards his and taking him by his queue roughly. You could see Ao’nung being pushed towards the village, and you considered just calling Neyn and looking for him yourself. It was dark, and even Lo’ak wasn’t this irresponsible. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, fear overcoming you at the thought of your baby brother in danger. You couldn’t imagine how your mate was feeling.

You made your way to your tent, where Neytiri and Jake were.

“Tell them. Tell them what you told me.”

You got on Neyn as soon as Jake gave permission and left alongside Metkayina that would cover the water, while you would look from above. It took a while, but you eventually spotted him, making his way… on top of a huge animal, the biggest you have ever seen. A tulkun - you recognised in awe. It was beautiful, and leaving of trail of mystical glow in the darkness surrounding them. You whistled from on top of your ikran, and watched Lo’ak’s face shoot upwards, a big smile at your sight.

You made Neyn lower you towards where he was floating peacefully, and you watched as Lo’ak said goodbye and ushered his new friend away.

“Need a lift, lil bro?”

You stretched your arm out for him and he took it, getting on your banshee and settling in behind you.

“Expected to see you half dead washed on some stoney shore, not chilling on the back of a tulkun. Want to catch me up?”

“I’m going to kill those assholes.”

“No, you won’t. Still the chief’s son, no matter what a bunch of jerks they are. They’re just bullies, which probably means they have their own shit going on that they are overcompensating for. So tell me.”

“I was attacked by a fucking akula, and he almost got me, but the tulkun saved my life. He was impaled by some sort of metal hook, and I helped him, and we bonded. It was great, Angel. Best thing I have ever done.”

You smiled a little at your brother and his pet name for you, that you were surprised he was still using, endlessly relieved to hear and see him - alive and kicking.

“Why would you go with them, Lo’ak? You know you’re not allowed to go past the reef. Why must you always knock so loudly on death’s door?”

“I was just trying to do what dad told me, just trying to bond with these kids.”

“Bullshit. Maybe you can feed that to the family, but not to me. What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know, Angel. When he told me, I instantly said no, but then he teased that he’s asking the wrong brother, and… I don’t know. Whenever someone compares me to Neteyam, it triggers something in me, a blind rage that I can’t walk away from. I’m -“

His train of thought was interrupted by a big horn announcing his return, and you saw the village in an uproar, waiting for your arrival. The last thought on your mind is that you and Lo’ak will forever be bound together by your daddy issues.

You landed on a wooden platform, in front of Neteyam and Jake, as well as Tonowari and his family. Jake rushed to his son’s side, checking for injuries, as Lo’ak angrily kept his gaze onto Ao’nung, ready to pounce on him at the earliest opportunity.

“Let’s have a look at you.” Jake said worriedly, trying to also defuse the tense situation unfolding in front of him.

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Just a few scratches.”

Neytiri made her way through the crowd and rushed to her son’s side, gasping while she took him in. “I pray for the strength that I will not PLUCK the eyeballs out of my youngest son.” You saw her ears flatten in fury, mirroring his own submissive ones, so pushed back they were getting lost in his hair.

“No! My son knows better than to take him outside the reef. The blame is his.” You saw a wince make its way on the Olo’eyktan’s son’s face, and you felt a small ping of sadness at the sight - it reminded you a lot of Lo’ak and how he is treated by Jake. It seems you found a reason for Ao'nung's need to bully others.

Relived, Jake took you both and started making his way home. “No. This was not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea. Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it.” Oh, baby brother…

“Sorry.”

Jake sighed looking at Tonowari, and started walking away. “I got this.”

As you walked away, hand tightly in Neteyam’s, Lo’ak turned to face his family. “Dad, you told me to make friends with these kids. That’s all I was trying t-“

“I don’t want to hear it. You brought shame to this family.”

A low guttural snarl made its way out of you without your consent or control. You hated how Jake treated Lo’ak, hated how this was the exact reason Lo’ak always acted out, what then got Neteyam involved and endangered. Jake looked at you out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing about your little outburst.

“Can I go now?”

“Any more trouble you get a knot in your tail. Do you read me?”

“Yes, sir. Lima Charlie.” You saw Lo’ak walk away, and you wanted to follow him, wanted to talk him down, but you were interrupted when both the parents turned to you and Neteyam.

“Where were you?” Neytiri says, a stern look on her face.

“Yeah, what happened to keeping an eye on your brother?”

You nose flared and your teeth bared at the unfairness of it all. You couldn’t believe either of them, and you could believe Neteyam even less when all he said was a quiet “Sorry, sir.”

Neteyam and his mum walked ahead when Jake pulled on your arm, keeping you in place.

“You have something to say, kid? It seems you’re very vocal about your opinions today.”

“Oh, there’s a lot I have to say. But I’m too pretty to have to live by myself in the forest when you kick me out of the marui.”

“That’s never stopped you before. What, you think I’m too harsh?”

“On your adolescent son who looks at you like the universe was born in your eyes and does everything he does to gain some respect, some recognition, some love, and all he gets in return is constant ass chewing and disappointed stares? Yeah, a little.”

Jake removed his hand from you and took a step back. His widened eyes took a second to recover, and a hard look replaced it when he found his composure at last.

“Lo’ak will live because of me. Because he won’t have to make the same mistakes I did, because I can stop him from being just like I was at his age.”

“I think all you’re doing is pushing him into those mistakes without realising. Look, I have hated my dad my whole life. I just don’t want Lo’ak to hate you, because unlike my dad, I love you. And I love him. And neither of you will make it in one piece if you keep going like this. You’re going to push him so far he will never recover, and you’ll hate yourself when that happens. And by that time, it’ll be too late to fix it. You still have time to fix this.”

You turned around and walked away, and hoped in silence their relationship has a better chance of surviving than yours and your father’s did.

Gideon landed in the forest that housed the Omatikaya on the back of his new banshee, a beautiful beast that he felt more connected to than to most people he’s ever met. It was surreal and a little scary, feeling another being’s heartbeat, breathing, emotions. He could tell when the banshee was anxious, or scared, or elated. He could feel it all. In return, Ikran (not the most original name, Gideon can admit) could sense his emotions, how frightened he was when he first connected their queues together, how free he felt on his first flight, how anxious he is feeling right now, having to rummage through the forest for a sign of the people he is meant to kill. They all spread out, hoping to cover more ground this way, and so he was left alone, with his thoughts that plagued him without interruption.

The forest was lush and brimming with life, and Gideon stopped to admire it for a while, to feel the beauty that surrounds him. He was close to the village, close to the labs that were now just empty, lifeless metal crates and he couldn’t help wonder how many times Jo passed the exact spot he was currently on, how many times his daughter did. He’s learnt a couple more things in the weeks that have passed, a small bond forming between him and the blonde kid with a big mouth and an equally big heart.

Your name was something him and Jo have discussed before, on one starry-night escapade, laying on the Pandoran grass that was dangerous for both of them, while making plans for the future.

“And if we have a daughter, I think we should name her after that crazy aunt of yours - what was her name again?”

“You want to name my daughter after my crazy aunt?”

“Well, yeah, she was good crazy, driven crazy, smart-ass crazy, cat-lady crazy, and that’s exactly what I want my daughter to be.”

“My Jo, you are weird.”

“You love it.”

“I do love it, you crazy girl.”

He couldn’t believe that he had a daughter. A 19 year old daughter, who grew up completely without him, whose presence in her life is non-existent at best, tortured and messy in most-probable reality. Gideon didn’t know how he died - didn’t know if he ended up executing his orders or following his heart and he felt guilty either way. He was betraying one family or the other, no matter the choice.

As he was walking through the wilderness surrounding him, he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of a small clearing, full of scattered light that left pleasing forms on the ground. He was stunned when his gaze landed on two exo suits, like the ones the RDA still used. Residue from the battle that transpired almost two decades ago, no doubt. He was surprised to find out the RDA just left these here, surely they could be used for spare parts. As he was walking towards one of them, he reached for his radio in order to call it in and have someone pick it up, when he saw the name on it, that was covered in vines. BARLOWE. His hand dropped instantly, reaching instead to break down the creepers to see better. So this is how it all ended. There was no body that Gideon could reasonably see anywhere, so he assumed he died somewhere else, alone on this planet where no one could find him, no one could mourn him.

He took the screen on the exo suit in his hands, that looked a little less dusty and disheveled than the rest of the suit, and fiddled with it until he could hear it start up. The last few moments of his life would play out in front of his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it.

In his viewpoint stood Weinfleet, reloading his gun and pointing with his exo-hand.

“Captain, I think if we go through this clearing, we should be closing in on the tree of souls in about 3 clicks.”

“You’re right. But I don’t think we should do it.”

Lyle looked stunned, and he stopped whatever he was doing to turn around and look and where Gideon stood. “Barlowe, what are you talking about?”

“This is wrong, Lyle. You know it, I know it, everyone here fucking knows it. And if you don’t, you’re even a bigger psychopath than I thought you were. We have to go back.”

“I’m not fucking going anywhere, Captain. These freaks are going to kill all of us if they get their way. Someone has to stop them.”

Gideon saw himself pick up his gun and point it at the bald man he knew too well. “Are you disobeying direct orders, lieutenant?”

“You’re not my squad leader, Captain. And I have orders from above.”

The last thing Gideon saw was the ugly fight that ensued and that resulted in both of them needing to evacuate their suits. The last shot of the camera was Weinfleet hurrying to him with a knife.

Gideon Barlowe could count on one hand the amount of times he had been left speechless in his life, and most of them ironically happened in the last few weeks. There were so many shocks to his system, he felt he would short-circuit in time, nothing left of him but fragments of a soul no one would be able to upcycle.

Betrayed by his own squad. What a shit way to go. Although, he assumed he had betrayed them first - it was at least consolation to know he didn’t go to the planes of eternal life with his last act being genocide of innocent people. He had chosen right. He had chosen to sacrifice himself for the good of this planet, that was a lot more beautiful than his own, for his soul that was maybe not as broken as he had thought, for his love who lived and raised a daughter 10 years after his passing. He had done the right thing.

He continued walking to a tree, where he spotted something that he couldn’t quite place. He now had to count on both hands, cause there he was - again - too stunned to speak. There was a skeleton in the natural nook made by the roots of the tree, and Gideon reached his hand in between the flowers and vines covering it to pick up a rock and a necklace he quickly recognised as his own dog tag. The rock was decorated with shapes and patterns, typical of the Na’vi, and in the middle, was writing carved on the surface.

“You won’t be forgotten, dad. Thank you.”

Gideon held the rock so tightly his knuckles were pale blue, almost white. He wiped the tear that fell down his face and swore he would make himself worthy of your gratitude.

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