I Want To See Mama Too⎥part Two

I LOVED THIS SOSOSOSO MUCH!!! <33333

I Choose You

Pairing: AgedUp!Neteyam & Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: An evening alone with Neteyam has him observing your physical differences. Somehow the topic of conversation leads elsewhere, to more personal and... complicated matters.

Genre/info: light angst, fluff, romance, friends to lovers (or mates), reader can breathe Pandora's air through an experiment (not elaborated lol), location is Pandora Forest, tail shenanigans.

WC: 2.5k | Main Masterlist

Word bank: tawtute - human/skyperson, yawne - beloved, palulukan - thanator (cat-like beast that attacks jake in beginning of first movie), tsaheylu - bond or neural connection that Na'vi form with the flora and fauna of Pandora through their kuru/queue. Also, a powerful bond shared between mates, yawntutsyìp - darling/little loved one, oel ngati kameie - I see you

Tw: mentions of bearing children, human/na'vi romantic relationship, suggestive themes (it's so brief though), kissing, crying, reader being insecure and self-doubting, use of petnames/terms of endearment, use of 'y/n' (lmk if I missed anything)

A/n: hello!! I wrote this on a whim. I was reading a romance novel and got inspired. I hope you enjoy friends <33

“Your teeth are so-” Neteyam narrows those blazing, scrutinizing eyes down at you. 

Your back presses harder against the bark of a tree five times bigger than your human body. It’s still damp from the rain that fell last night, and you feel its wetness seep into your shirt. The large Na’vi is bent in front of you, squatting down with the sinewy muscle of his legs pressing gently onto your sides. You’re trapped between him and the tree as one large palm presses on the velvety moss next to your head. The other lifts to your face. 

“So…  blunt. How do you humans eat your food?” While he is curious, he hasn’t overstepped any of your boundaries, save for that of personal space. Not that you care much about that boundary when it comes to him. 

But he’s so, so close. You can feel the heat emanating from his lithe body and smell the dewdrops of Pandora’s Forest on his skin. It leaves a spicy current that drips off him and slips down your throat until you are drunk off his proximity. It’s ludicrous, to feel and think this way about an entirely different species. But your heart and mind seem to be two different entities when it comes to Neteyam. It’d be folly to try and convince your heart to feel anything other than the affection you hold for him. 

“Well,” you look at the woven green canopy above you if only to escape his imploring face that sets your nerves on fire, “We do a lot of chewing, but I suspect our meat is not nearly as tough as that of the creatures here.” You look back at him, immediately drawn to the curling of his tail behind him. It almost looks… flirtatious in its movements. But you’re no fool. He’s simply curious about your differences, nothing more. He says nothing, expression betraying none of his thoughts. It doesn’t surprise you. 

Neteyam has always been hard to read, ever the dutiful and protective son of the Olo’eyktan. He’s always polite, wise in his composure, and never caught slipping away from what was expected of him. 

Except for when he was alone with you. 

“Show me once more, tawtute.” (human) Sky Person. On most other Na’vi, no matter how congenial, that word would be an insult spitted out. With him, a dull ache forms in your chest, like a flower sprouting from a stem for the first time. Like growing pains. You oblige, tilting up and opening your mouth to bare your teeth for the eldest son. 

You observe his eyes, how they glint in the dulling light of day like a sun more beautiful than you’ve ever witnessed on earth or Pandora. A soft smile paints his carved features, softening the intensity of their strength into something endearing. A slender, strong finger reaches up to run over the points of your canine. You don’t have to fake the way your lips stretch in an amused smile. He looks like a little kid playing with a new toy. Another curl of his tail, and this time you startle as it wraps around your ankle. 

“I don’t think I shall ever… get used to them.” That has your brows cinching together, tight lines forming between them. 

“Why would you have to get used to them, Neteyam? Our time together is limited.” An unspoken weight lowers on your shoulders like a suffocating blanket in the heat of midday. You’re simply biding your time on Pandora, as one of the few humans allowed to stay after the war. You don’t belong here, but you don’t belong on earth either. Pandora is the only home you’ve ever known. You may be able to breathe its air due to an experiment run on you as a child, but that doesn’t mean you can claim this world as your home or habitat. 

His finger stills on your tooth, leaving it to drift over the flesh of your bottom lip. His eyes are distant as he looks at your mouth. You try not to audibly gasp when his thumb replaces his finger on your lip while he encases the side of your face in his big, warm palm. 

“I had wished to tell you this another way…” a soft sigh brushes over your cheek. When had he gotten so close? Close enough for you to feel the humidity of his breath on your face. You blink, trying to keep your thoughts from dulling into static. “A better way.” You try not to lean into his hand, but it’s so inviting. So tender despite the roughness of his skin, toughened from years of a warrior's trade. Hunter’s hands. 

“Tell me what?” The breath in your voice is thin, barely there. His knees lower, sinking into the soft dirt beside your feet as he sits down, a look of defeat washing over his features. 

Such a rare sight, you almost feel as if you should look away, unworthy of seeing his strength reduced to naught but desperation.

“You are my mate.” Those four words are not what you expected to hear, not in this lifetime. Your mouth opens, eyes wide with disbelief at the confession. 

“What?” You ask. It cannot be true. There’s no plausible way anyone of his kind could be mated to a human. What of tsaheylu and the bond? You could not share that with him, could not give that to him. Not to mention the size difference and the implausibility of bearing children. You fear it’d be more a sacrifice for him than anything else. 

“It is true.” His tail coils tighter on your ankle. If you weren’t leaning against the back of a tree, your body would’ve leaned away from his forehead that now presses onto yours. Not from anything but your insecurity. The flat of his sloped nose pressed against yours and your head meets the tree from the impact. He’s panting hot air that trails goosebumps over your neck and arms. His eyes are closed, but yours remain open, still disbelieving that this is real. “It has always been true, yawne.” (beloved) 

You aren’t an expert with the language of his people, but that word you know. Had heard it whispered between couples in the shadows. In moments sacred between two lovers no matter their age. The first time you asked Kiri about its meaning, you couldn’t stop imagining what it might be like to hear it spoken from Neteyam’s lips to you. The thought plagued your dreams for months after. 

Now, he’s here, on his knees before you, eyes closed and whispering it across your skin. Your fingers dig into the bark behind you, gripping it with fervor to keep you upright. 

“It can’t be true.” You wish you could accept it without thought. Without doubt. But it all seems so sorrowful. How would this union ever rightfully work? Just the possibility of him claiming you as a mate would bring shame to his image within the clan. You would defile his righteous standing amongst the village. He needs someone strong like him, not someone weak and unable to fend for themselves on Pandora. Not someone like you. “Neteyam I am nothing but a hindrance to you.”

He pulls away and you regret uttering those words. A fury more powerful than your doubt blazes on his face, tightening the once relaxed features into something formidable. The hand cradling you moved, grasping at your jaw to tilt your face upward. Closer to him, to look into his eyes. The gesture was one of subtle authority. It had you keening, hyper-aware of every change in his expression. 

“You may do many things in my presence, y/n,” you swallow briny air at the tempest in his eyes, “But you will never demean yourself.” His words zip through you like a warm current of lightning, setting everything in its wake ablaze. 

“I only meant tha—'' he cuts you off with a shake of his head. 

“I know what you meant,” his hand loosens, not that his grip was ever tight, and drifts to run over your jaw, “I don’t care.” He states. This thumb feels the delicate skin over your pulse, which is rapidly erratic. “I choose you.” 

Say it back, say it back, say it back. You want so desperately to say it back. Perhaps he can see your internal battle. He does nothing but waits patiently for you to respond, with no panic or wavering noticeable. Neteyam is calm where you are everything but. The iridescent freckles on his nose and forehead are all you can seem to look at as you voice your thoughts. 

“How—,” heat claws into you like a palulukan as you fumble, “How would we even work?” Your connotations are lost on him until you cast a glance over the taut length of his body. Cords of hardened, steely muscles wind around and give way to nothing but solidity. Would physical…  companionship even be possible between you two? You doubt it.

Neteyam lowers his head causing a few inky braids to fall and frame the sides of his face. Some dance over his eyes that are scouring every part of your body. They drift from your feet, all the way up your body. The concern etched on his face is not lost on you. His eyes pivot, suddenly boring into your own without moving his head. Shadows twist onto his face, contorting what was once a kind expression to something altogether unknown to you. Something that trespasses the boundaries of platonic friendship and has fire licking every inch of you. 

“It would work.” You blink rapidly, overcome with nerves. There’s a sudden dryness in your mouth and eyes. Your head is floaty, your throat feeling stuffed with cotton as you attempt to push away the implication of his statement. “We would work.” He is so sure with his words that you let it go even though you still hold caution. 

“Neteyam, I–” your throat swells like a balloon. I’m not good enough for you. “I have nothing to give you, don’t you see?” Boiling water pools at your eyelids like acid. You try to blink them away, to will them into submission. But it doesn’t work. Not with how he’s looking at you, raw and unfiltered. So different from how he is with everyone else. Here he is not the golden child, the perfect son, and the protective older sibling. Here he is just Neteyam, your Neteyam. “I cannot, I–” You can’t finish your sentence. 

Your hands raise to your face, covering it so he wouldn’t see you cry. Cracked open and raw, like an egg spilling onto the floor without its shell to protect it. You’re oozing everywhere. Your body startled at the feeling of two hands cupping your head, encasing it wholly. 

“Yawntutsyìp? (darling, little loved one).  Please, show me your face.” A sniffle, then you pull your hands away and wipe your eyes. Neteyam coaxes you from your shell, tilting your head to face him fully. Only till you meet his eyes that gleam in the fading light does he continue. “Listen to me very carefully.” A stern request, to which you nod quietly. 

“You do not need to give me anything, yawne (beloved). Your worth to me is not measured by what I receive from you.” Air coats your lungs like ice water at your gasp. No one had ever said that to you. It never occurred that you were basing your worth on that reasoning. “I choose you for no other reason than my love for you…” two thumbs rub over the delicate skin of your under eyes, drying the wetness there, “This is something that will never change, y/n, I See you.” 

His breath is on your cheeks once more, that spiced scent he emanates overwhelms you like poison. It seeps into your bloodstream, intoxicating you till you think of nothing other than Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam. It’s not until his eyes drift down to your chest that you realize you are panting, whether from disbelief or exhilaration is unclear. 

All the doubt scatters away when he looks back at you. The sincerity on his face is startling. It flutters over you like the warmth of the sun and chases away any shadows so that all you see is the possibility that is before you. Being Neteyam’s mate, his chosen one for life. 

“Oel ngati kameie (I see you), Neteyam.” The confession is thin. Years of pining, affectionate memories, and stolen dreams are woven into your words. He smiles, full and broad at you speaking in his mother tongue. 

The thing about doubt is that it will always be there, available to steal your attention with its greedy talons. But it is a choice, to hold onto it. To pick it up.

You’d much rather be here, held in the strong palms of your lover Neteyam than in the embrace of an emotion that leaves you hollow and half of who you truly are. 

Neteyam has chosen you. You have chosen him back. At the end of the day, that is all that matters. Not the implausibility of your relationship or the uncertainties of the future. You could face those monsters later when they decide to cross your path. But right now, he is here. You are here with him. You are together. 

He leans forward, for a kiss you think, and your eyelids close in reflex. You bask in the heat of his hands, how they melt into you like a second skin. Like you were born to be held by him and he was made to hold you. Wetness presses on your forehead. A kiss, passionate and heady from its sincerity. The same sensation greets your brow bone, your nose, each eyelid, both your cheeks, your jaw, the corner of your chin, and the juncture of your neck. He kisses away all semblance of lucidity until you are dripping with unhinged insanity that only he could bear witness to. The muscles of your legs have numbed like the circulation was cut off and instead populated entirely in your chest, neck, and lower stomach. You don’t know where he begins and you end. Not that it matters much. Not that you care. 

Then, he kisses you on the lips. It’s slow, tender. Makes you ache everywhere but most of all your heart. You kiss him back, desperation and gratitude coating your tongue. Neteyam drinks what you give him like he hasn’t drank in years. Like you are the only source of hydration within a thousand miles. 

You don’t say anything when he finally pulls away. Not that words would’ve visited you then. He just looks at you, into you and you do the same. Observing the pattern of stripes on his face, hoping that soon you’d get to trace them with your fingertips. And the way his freckles glow like little stars, illuminating the desire that’s coursing through his veins for you. He pulls you close, till you stand between his kneeling legs and fall into everything that he is.

He hugs and embraces you for an unspecified amount of time. You melt into him, the weight lifting from your chest until you are liberated. Until you can breathe again.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this. Sending you all much love <3

GODDAMN ONG 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Would you ever write anything with major obvious size kink? like Steve is so big he barely fits inside you? Or it hurts when he fucks you but he does it anyways? Sorry, i just love the idea of Steve being so much bigger than reader.

OKAY BUT THAT SUPER SOLDIER DICK WOULD MURDER ANY POOR INNOCENT SOUL HE TRIES FUCKING PLS

i definitely wanna incorporate this in future fics, but here's a little something bC I CAN'T HELP MYSELF AND UGH

WARNING: DARK STEVE, DADDY KINK, NON CON UNDER THE CUT. ALSO STEVE HAS A CRYING KINK. IDEK. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

Steve never wants to hurt you. You're his delicate flower - so opposite to him in every single way. With how tiny, dainty, soft-spoken and innocent you are. It awakens something in him - he wants to keep you safe, protect you, take care of you.

Which is why it surprises him how much he's turned on by the image of you beneath him, crying in pain as he tries to coax his big dick into you.

"It's... It's so big, Steve." You weep, and he knows you feel ashamed, disappointed in yourself for not being able to take him. But he can't possibly blame you - he knows he's a lot bigger than average, and he's been through this with other girls he's fucked. It's always a tight fit - but none of those other girls have been as innocent and lovely as you.

"It's okay, princess. I know you can take it." Steve encourages you softly, trying to ease his dick into your tight, wet pussy. God, you're so slick, it's almost like you're weeping down there. And he's trying so hard to focus on your comfort, but your tight warmth is so deliciously inviting, so fucking tempting. "C'mon, baby. Just relax."

"I-I'm trying. I p-promise I'm trying!" You hiccup, looking up at him with bright, wet eyes. He's got you caged between the bed and his body, pinned down by his sheer size advantage over you - not to mention his power. Your tiny hands are clutching against his biceps and you're breathing hard, so obviously scared of how big he is compared to you.

"You're so beautiful, baby. So fucking perfect for daddy," Steve says to you softly, hoping maybe a bit of praise and dirty talk might get you to focus on anything apart from the pain. "You're gonna take daddy's dick like a good girl, aren't you? It's gonna feel so fucking good when I'm inside you, baby. Don't you want that?"

His dick is barely half way into you by this point, and Steve doesn't want to admit it but he doesn't know how much longer he can take this. You're so fucking perfect in every way, it's agonising to be so gentle, so slow, so coaxing. And one look down at your tear-stained face and it only gets him harder.

You're shaking your head, the burn of being stretched out by his sheer girth making you dig your nails deep into his skin. "N-No, Steve! D-Daddy, I don't think I can... OH! OH FUCK!"

And okay, so Steve doesn't completely mean to lose his patience. He doesn't mean to forget all about how big he is for you, how tiny and tight you are. He doesn't mean to snap his hips sharply, and with one hard thrust, completely impale you with his huge cock. He doesn't mean to make you scream bloody murder. He doesn't mean any of it - but it just feels so fucking good.

"Shh, shh, baby, it's okay." He says through gritted teeth, grabbing both your wrists in one of his hands and pinning you in place as you writhe desperately underneath him, your body instinctively trying to get away from him. But there's no escape - he's too big, too strong as he holds you down. "It's okay, princess. Just be a good girl and take it."

"P-Please, it hurts! Hurts so much! You're too big!" You cry, feeling like your body is being ripped in half by him.

"You can take it, princess, you can take it." Steve repeats, most of his focus is on how fucking good it feels to finally be inside you, how velvety soft and tight you are, practically constricting around his dick, squeezing him so tight and good like no other pussy has ever before.

"S-Steve..." You're so dainty and small in his eyes, like a perfect, fuckable little doll. You sound faint, like you're about to pass out from his sheer size and force of his dick - and the pleasure too, considering how you squeeze around him. And a small part of Steve is wondering why he won't stop: You're hurting her, Steve. Pull out. Slow down.

But he can't.

"I can't stop, baby. Your pussy feels too fucking good," He practically growls, increasing his pace, getting into this almost frenzied state because shit, this is the best pussy he's ever had and he can't believe he's waited this long to fuck you. He almost loses it all over again when he glances down to see the shape of his dick protruding at the bottom of your tummy. Fuck. He knows you won't be able to walk for a while after this.

He reaches down to roughly brush the tears from your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, I'll make it up to you. I promise daddy will make it up to you."

He has all night to stretch you out. And that's exactly what he intends to do.

(a/n: LISTEN IDEK OKAY. idk what to say. i literally wanted to keep writing but i had to stop myself. anyways. um. ->requests are open<- lmao.)

UOU ATE THIS UPPP OH MY GOD IM OBSESSED. more blaise fics please 🤭🤭🤭💘💘

Love, Anonymous | Blaise Zabini

Synopsis: The rumor mill at Hogwarts has expanded into physical print, and with it, a buzzing section dedicated to anonymous confessions. 

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Notes: I accidentally grew extremely fond of Ernie while writing this. Susan Bones supremacy, always.

Word Count: 4.8k

The infamous rumor mill of Hogwarts, upheld by boisterous Gryffindors Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, seemed to finally reach eminence in the social sphere of the castle. It was a long time coming, you thought. Grapevines. Heard from a friend. Through an open door — nothing was as fascinating as the arbitrary spiel that grew to fruition in the rumor mill. 

“I’m impressed. With all of this, you’d think Lavender was going after Skeeter’s job.” Susan hums, eyes scanning over the leaflets of paper lain strewn in front of you both. 

Ernie snorts as he shovels a spoonful of peas into his mouth, eyes rooted to the ceiling as he awaited the daily post, “What a load of bollocks.” 

“Hey, now. Don’t be so curt with it, E.” You muse, mouth folding into a wry grin as you pick up one of the loose papers, bringing it to eye-level so you could read it, “Look at this riveting slice of writing, Hogwarts Anonymous: With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body–” 

“Fresh? It was almost three bloody years ago.” Ernie interjects, tongue clicking loudly as the sea of owls begin to scurry across the plane of the ceiling, dropping rolls and boxes of news and gifts. However, the surge of mail went largely ignored as many students remained engrossed in the new Hogwarts gossip column. 

You shoot Ernie a stern look at the interruption, but continue when Susan releases an amused huff, “As I was saying—With the Yule Ball so fresh in the minds of the student body and love so sorely missed as a result, Hogwarts Anonymous is dedicated to working towards the revival of matchmaking. To submit an anonymous clip of your own, reach out to Parvati Patil for inquiries.” 

“Love so sorely missed?” Susan echoes, eyes blown wide in disbelief. 

“Poetic. Inspired. Riveting. Ingenious.” Ernie utters with faux sincerity, ignoring the raucous younger years fighting behind him. 

You nod, barely able to conceal your grin as your eyes drop further down the blocks of text, seeing a few confessions and messages splayed across the paper. As you continue to read through the text, a sudden passage has you choking on your spit, thumb pressing harshly against the flimsy paper as your eyes narrow. 

Ernie peers up at you from his plate, glancing towards Susan as they both share unimpressed looks. Eventually, it’s Susan who plucks up the voice to question your sudden bafflement, “Y/N? Are you alright there?” 

“Y/N looks like a startled crup puppy in Arithmancy.” You recite rigidly, feeling the paper warp and crease under your unrelenting grip. 

There is an unsettling pause in the atmosphere, as though the entirety of the dining hall has paused in their routine to listen to the confession, but it soon washes away as Ernie practically howls in laughter, his broad frame throttling forward as he tries to muffle his guffaw. 

Susan, ever the diplomat, proves to be more successful at maintaining her composure, but you don’t miss the small grin that tugs at her lips as she reaches over to grasp the paper, “Here, give me that.” 

“Crup puppy? Oh my goodness! That is bloody—Ow! Hey! Okay, stop!” Ernie’s fit of laughter and verbal tirade is swiftly dealt with as you send numerous stinging hexes his way, basking in the alarmed glint in his eyes. 

Susan shakes her head at both of your antics, and folds the paper up, eyes scanning the room as she muses, “How romantic. You just have to wonder who the culprit is.” 

“Merlin. It might just be a prank. Or maybe someone has a vendetta against me.” You groan with exasperation, realizing that just about everyone in the castle was going to be hearing about it. 

Ernie bumps his shoulder against yours and grins, “Chin up, Y/N. If someone’s out to get ya, Susan and I will send them to their maker—without their kneecaps, rest assured.” 

You roll your eyes but nod in appreciation, gaze falling down to your pitiful plate of food as your mind is thrust into overdrive. Hopefully, it would all blow over by the next day. 

Wishful thinking on your part because in fact, it did not. 

“It is endearing how Y/N is always lost during Potions.” Susan reads off the paper with squinted eyes, mouth furling into a frown of disbelief at the words. 

“Does this person hate me?” You murmur, leaning on your elbows as your eyes run across the aisle of bookshelves in front of you. 

Ernie rocks on the heels of his feet as he hums, “Abysmal flirting. Subpar, one-sided banter. Hardly charming. A Gryffindor, for sure.” 

“Well, the only Gryffindor in both Arithmancy with me and Potions with us is Hermione Granger, and I surely hope she hasn’t turned away from Ron. He’ll be insufferable if so.” You grit out, torn between chasing down your secret “admirer” and putting forth your best effort to ignore their future comments.  

Susan hums at your suggestion with crossed arms, Runes homework long forgotten about, “Surely not. So not a Gryffindor— and really Ernie, you can’t let your heartache blind your judgement! Seriously, are we sticking with the ‘All Gryffindors Are Bad’ thing?” 

Ernie gapes at her words and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Guys, I’m over her, we’ve been through this.” 

You pat your friends arm empathetically, hiding your sly grin as you muse, “Of course you are. Poor Fay Dunbar, really.”

Before your friend can retort, the sound of clicking footsteps attracts your attention as a figure emerges from behind the shelf next to you. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch the familiar Slytherin stroll towards you all with cool eyes, hands shoved in his dress pants as he hums, “Bones. Macmillan.” His eyes drop down to where you’re seated and you see an indecipherable glint cross his gaze as he greets you, “Puppy.”

Your reaction is almost immediate as a hot wave of mortification swallows all your sensibilities, “Excuse me?” Your offended wheeze hardly deters the Slytherin as he merely smirks at you. 

“I think your time would be better spent working through the latest Arithmancy assignment instead of gossiping, no?” He asks with a slanted grin, eyes never trailing away from yours. 

“What’s it to you, Zabini?” Your voice comes out taut as you feel Ernie place a hand on the back of your chair, likely eyeing down the boy in front of you. 

Blaise’s eyes briefly flicker to survey Ernie’s ministrations before they glide back to you in consideration, “Just concerned for a fellow classmate is all. I’ll see you around, Puppy.” Without giving you time to retaliate, the tall Slytherin vanishes just as swiftly as he arrived. 

“The absolute nerve!” You utter with indignation, swiveling your attention over to Susan. The girl frowns in the direction that Blaise disappeared through, eyes glimmering as you could see her brain whirring. 

“Strange. I thought Zabini was one of the tamer Slytherins out of their lot.” Ernie mutters, resuming his position beside you as he rubs his chin. 

You shake your head, “Malfoy’s influence is something to fear for years to come. Zabini may have been pleasant in our youth, but he’s been so shifty to me as of late.” 

Ernie snaps his fingers at your words and snickers down at you, “You used to have the largest love-sick eyes for him.” 

Clicking your tongue, you send a side glance at your friend before looking at Susan as she seems to take in your clueless expression. 

“Seriously?” She huffs, eyebrow drawn up as she gazes at you both like she was staring at a pedestrian display. 

“Seriously what? Suze?” You prod, leaning over as she shakes her head and redirects her attention to her work. 

Ernie shoots you a shrug as he pulls out the chair beside you, reluctantly following the girl’s lead as he sifts through the pile of parchments in front of him. 

The next few days blur by in a similar fashion, except you had taken to avoiding Hogwarts Anonymous like the plague, forcing Ernie and Susan to do the same when you were around. You eventually fell back into your routine of focusing on coursework and your future anxieties, letting the anomalous events slip from your mind. 

It is not until you’re organizing your supplies during Arithmancy that your fragile bubble of peace is disturbed. 

“Puppy.” The dulcet sound of Blaise’s voice has you snapping your head up, boggled by his sudden appearance beside you. The boy usually sat rows behind you, leaving the spot next to you to be occupied by Padma Patil. However, it seemed she was nowhere to be found. 

Suppressing your complaints, you don’t even attempt pleasantries as you sigh, “Zabini, hello.” 

“What’s with the long face? Not happy to see me?” Blaise teases, mouth stretching into a small grin. 

You’re almost tempted to squint as his perfectly white teeth glare at you in all their glory. Fuck. Did he not have a single flaw?

“I’m flattered, but perhaps the only thing I’m unable to do is catch you on a good day.” Blaise’s eyes twinkle with mirth as he smiles softly at you. 

Your face heats up so violently that you’re sure radiators across the globe were turning to you with envy. Forcing your jaw from parting so gauchely, you can only sputter out weakly, “Did I say that out loud?” 

Blaise hums wordlessly as he continues to look at you. Clearing your throat, you turn back to face the front of the classroom as Professor Vector begins to rise from her desk, “Right.” 

The rest of the class seems to tick by like molasses from a tipped jar: incredibly, painstakingly slow. You were usually quite engaged with the lesson and content, but you couldn’t ignore the occasional glances from the Italian boy beside you. 

As you absentmindedly continue to scrawl on your parchment, eyes transfixed on the swirls of ink blooming on the page, you feel something poke your arm. Frowning, you try to ignore it, directing your full attention onto sketching your diagram. 

The light poking persists until you bring your other hand up to swipe at your robe, fingers dancing across a sheet of paper with a slight crinkling noise. Faintly tilting your head, you furrow your eyebrows when you see Blaise attempting to slide a sheet of paper towards you. Slowly grasping the paper, you lay it atop one of your dry parchments, eyes scanning across the leaflet in confusion. 

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0128: Y/N L/N is devastatingly oblivious. It really is quite cute.’

You feel your entire body steel up at the words, lips parted from shock as you continue to reread the confession. The nerves across your body seem to buzz wildly as you try and rein in the burning climbing up your chest. 

“Alright, dears! That will be all for today. I expect the next two chapters to be read by our next convening. Ah, and L/N, my dear! I need to speak with you.”  Professor Vector’s euphonic voice cut through your haze of disbelief, drawing your eyes away from the dizzying passage and up towards the heart of the classroom. 

You don’t dare to glance at Blaise as you quickly clamber towards the awaiting woman, weaving around the retreating students that file through the grand doors. Huffing to relieve the pressure in your chest, you peer at the woman in anticipation as you finally step toward her. 

“Sorry to call you up like this, L/N. It’s just that the other professors and I are concerned about the recent articles that are being passed around the student body. It’s come to our attention that these anonymous confessions regarding you are quite prolific.” Professor Vector keeps her voice steady as she gazes at you with warm eyes, evidently trying to gauge your honest opinion on the matter. 

It would appear that everyone knew about your predicament. 

You shake your head quickly, eyes wandering towards the tomes resting on her desk, “It’s quite alright, they’re just small statements. Besides, no one has been giving me a hard time.” Which was partially true, but you also did not want the column to be shut down and run the risk of facing Lavender’s wrath. 

“If you’re quite sure, dear.” 

With a soft nod, you send a small smile towards her before bounding back towards your table, releasing a small breath as you see the rest of the classroom was vacant. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, the call of your name has you twirling on your heel. 

“L/N.” Professor Vector gives you a faint nod, “You’re doing quite well in this class. I’m sure whoever is sending those messages is just teasing you.” 

Clearing your throat, you plaster on a reassuring smile, “Thank you, Professor. Have a good afternoon!” 

You practically sprint out of the classroom, mind set on nipping the blooms of your troubles—starting with the roots. 

The clicking of your shoes against the dusty corridor tiles seem to smother every other inkling of noise, many students shifting from your path with wide-eyes as your gaze darts around furiously. Even the slightest hue of crimson drew your dutiful eyes like a moth to a flame, and you were beginning to get tunnel vision. 

A flash of wispy blonde waves flashes across your plane of sight, and you’re immediately beelining towards the girl, a victorious smile painting your face once you see Lavender’s startled frown. The girl glances from side-to-side as you draw closer, shoulders tensing once you tentatively stop a few paces before her. 

“Lavender, good afternoon.” You greet cordially, fingers lightly brushing against your sides as you become wary of your awkward hand placement.  

The girl nods and shoots you a confused smile, “Hi, Y/N. What’s up?” 

“I think we both know why I’m here.” You mutter frankly, head tilting down emphatically as you take notice of the latest edition of Hogwarts Anonymous in her hands. 

Lavender glances down at the paper and hums, “Ah. Right.” 

Sighing, you readjust the strap of your bag as you step closer, “Look, I’m not here to give you any grief over your work. In fact, Hogwarts Anonymous is probably the most exciting thing to happen all year. But, I need to know the person behind all these messages aimed at me.” 

“I’m sorry, but confidentiality–” Lavender starts, eyebrows stitching together in remorse at your clear disdain over the matter. 

Before the girl can continue her, no doubt, enlightening spiel about the rules of journalism, a velvety voice curls through the air around you, “Hello, Puppy. What seems to be the fuss.” 

You aren’t sure any measure of propriety could have stopped you from raising your eyes to the sky as you slowly spin on your heel. A frown briefly washes over your face as you address the boy behind you, “Zabini. Again with that nickname? It’s getting quite old. Originality doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” 

“No use in fixing what isn’t broken. Besides, I’ve never known you to be overly concerned with trivialities like this.” The boy retorts, eyes sparkling with blatant amusement. 

You purse your lips at his choice of words before musing, “That’s because you don’t know me, Zabini.” 

Without missing a beat, Blaise is quick to step closer to you, head craning towards you imperceptibly as he lowers his voice, “I suppose you’re right. I could get to know you though.” 

Your lips part at his words, but you try to remain nonchalant as you huff, “Hysterical. And what’s in it for me?” 

“You’d get to know me, too.” 

“As enticing as that sounds, I’ll have to pass.” You mutter, taking a step back from the boy. His eyes remain firm with confidence even as you begin to retreat, your gaze glued to the growing smirk on his face. 

As your nerves finally seem to spark back to life, you swiftly spin around and begin to stomp towards your common room, brain muddled with harping thoughts about the exchange. Before you’re able to round the corner, you hear Lavender’s soft voice bristle through the air, “Maybe try a different approach…” 

A few odd days pass after your encounter with Blaise, and you’ve taken to gluing yourself to Ernie and Susan in hopes that the Slytherin would be too intimidated to approach you again. Your friends take the new developments in stride, only occasionally shooting you knowing glances. 

“Weird.” Ernie hums, fingers drumming against the grass as he peers at the paper in his lap. 

You don’t take your eyes off of the serene lake just yards away as you reply, “What’s weird?” 

Susan pauses in her reading as Ernie straightens up and turns to you, “There aren’t any more anonymous messages about you in the column.” 

“Seems that you missed your chance with your secret admirer, Y/N.” Susan hums, propping her chin on her palm as she smiles teasingly at you. 

You shake your head and wave them both off, “I talked to Lavender the other day, maybe she intentionally left it out. Either way, I look forward to reinhabiting the semblance of peace that I lost.” 

Ernie hums as he diverts his gaze towards something behind you, “Peace might have to wait.” 

“Y/N.” Blaise’s honeyed voice dances through the cool air, accompanied with the soft crunching of grass as you sense the boy approach your lazing figure. 

“Blaise.” You greet evenly, eyes slowly drifting across the tufts of clouds meandering across the sky. 

Susan and Ernie pretend to busy themselves as the Slytherin stops behind you, close enough where the edges of his robe lightly graze against your back. It is quiet for a few moments before the boy addresses you again, “Have you given my offer any further thought?” 

“I can’t say I have.” You mutter, slowly fidgeting with your wand as you add, “Do you want me to?” 

The Italian huffs out a small laugh before you hear a faint rustling, “That’s entirely up to you.” Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, but before you can turn around to question him, a crisp envelope drops into your vision. You feel the curtains of Blaise’s robe swim across your back as he offers the tempting object to you. 

Gently grasping the envelope, you flip it in your palm to inspect the front, but you’re met with shallow disappointment when you see the paper is completely blank. On the back, you recognize the Zabini emblem pressed into the bleeding red wax. 

“Blaise, what is this for?” You slowly peer over your shoulder only to be met with Blaise’s retreating back growing farther into the distance. 

Staring at the envelope with a frown, you debate on whether or not to frisbee-launch the paper into the lake as the wind sweeps across your face. Susan is the first to interrupt the calm silence that blanketed the air, shooting you a knowing smile as she points her chin at the stiff paper, “Open it.” 

“Do you know something about this?” You question with narrowed eyes, tone light with jest, but bleeding in genuine confusion. 

“About the envelope? Nope.” She hums with a sweet smile, quickly swiveling her head back to her book. 

You shuffle closer to your friends, shooting them a disbelieving frown, “And about Blaise?” 

Ernie mimes a zipping motion across his mouth as he shakes his head, which is all you need from the boy to know that both of your friends were privy to something you weren’t seeing. Clicking your tongue with exaggerated indignation, you carefully peel the envelope open, noting that neither of your friends were attempting to peer over to see its contents as you did so.

You didn’t know if you were thankful or concerned for that fact. 

Reaching inside the smooth cradle of paper, your fingers run across a folded piece of paper. Pulling it out, you hesitate for a few moments before deciding to bite the bullet. 

Smooth, even swirls of letters dance across the paper in abundance much to your surprise. 

Y/N, 

Lavender advised me that my previous tactic of trying to get your attention was ineffective, so I should therefore be more forthcoming. I hope you understand now. Although it was entertaining watching you fumble about for answers, I realize that time is slowly dwindling as we progress through our last year here at Hogwarts. 

This is not some ploy if you’re wondering (because I know that you are… really, are you Hufflepuffs not supposed to be the most trusting of us all?) 

I have admired you for quite some time. If you are willing to, let’s meet before dinner. I will be at the library. 

Love, 

“Anonymous” 

You drop the letter into your lap as you sigh into the air, neck aching as you roll your head from side to side. Ernie assesses you from the corner of his eye, head tilting at your reaction, “Well?” 

“Well, I’ll have to meet you both at dinner it seems.” You concede with a heavy sigh, realizing that you were the only one who was drowning in the darkness of oblivion for the past few days. 

Susan nods at you with twinkling eyes as Ernie muses with a wide grin, “Sounds like a plan. Good luck!” 

Pacing away from your friends and up the vague incline of grass, you fiddle with the paper in your hands as you begin to dredge up all your encounters with Blaise. They were plentiful in your youth, but between then and the whirlwind of Hogwarts Anonymous— you could count the number of proper conversations you’ve had with the Slytherin on one hand. 

That’s not to say you still didn't find the boy attractive. There was an unspoken consensus amongst the entire student body that he was the prime candidate for bachelor, between his suave demeanor, dry wit, academic prowess, towering trust fund, and neutral political stance— it did not get much better than Blaise fucking Zabini.

For the first time in weeks, you feel that your head is finally clear. An airy aura encircling you as you traverse through the halls, not minding the bustling of younger students or the perpetual miasma of stress that radiated off of your fellow seventh-year peers.  

At the threshold of the bright library, you take a deep breath of consideration before you step in, an intangible veil of warmth immediately ushering you into its cavernous hold as you sift your gaze through the hunched backs and steep shelves. 

Taking slow steps so as to not remain erect in the entrance and cause traffic, you’re snapped from your concentration by the softest tug to your robe sleeve. Dropping your gaze to the chair beside you, you aren’t able to mask your nonplusness at the sight of a familiar Slytherin searching your expression with curiosity. 

“Oh, hi Theodore.” You wave smally, stepping closer as he begins to speak. 

“Y/N. You’re here for Blaise, right?” The boy’s words are barely above a murmur as he slowly shuts the cover of his book. 

You nod and shift to lean against the table as Theodore begins to look around, only dropping your eyes to him once he speaks up again, “He just came in. He might be toward the back, near the Restricted Section. He doesn’t like being around others when he’s restless.” 

“Oh?” Your eyebrows shoot up at the insinuation, unable to truly comprehend a mental picture of the composed Slytherin as anything but smug and assured. 

Humming, you shift your weight from one leg to the other as you dismiss yourself, “Alright. Thank you, Theodore. I’ll see you around.”

The boy merely nods before turning back to his work, but you don’t miss the glimmer that flickers across his eyes as they quickly catch sight of the letter in your hand— it was the same knowing look that your friends held. 

Shuffling towards the back of the library, you slowly feel the confidence draining from your veins as you near the Restricted Section. Rounding one of the shelves, you stop in your tracks as you catch sight of Blaise sitting at a corner table by the window, robe discarded and flung over the adjacent chair as his eyes run across the book in his hand. 

Clearing your throat faintly, you make your way towards him. Before you’re even within reaching distance to him, his head shoots up toward you. 

His eyes swim with confusion for a split moment before they sink into a familiar unreadable look. 

“I read your letter.” You mutter with uncertainty, squaring your shoulders as Blaise nods and rises from his chair. 

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” He softly admits, lips curling up at the sheepish look that replaces your former expression of hesitancy. Before you have time to reply, he steps forward and chuckles, “Couldn’t wait to see me, then?” 

Swallowing harshly, you hum, “You have a bit of explaining to do.” 

“Yeah, I do.” His voice comes out light, shedding away into a near whisper at the end as he gazes at you with consideration. He takes a step forward and continues, “Before that though, I need to know how you feel.” 

“About you?” Your mumble is met with a firm nod, and you feel your heart miss a few beats as the words seem to just glide out of your mouth without filter, “Well, we haven’t spoken properly all that much this year or last year, but I like you… too. I like you, too.” 

“Yeah?” Blaise hums, shoulders faintly drooping as the tension dissipates from his muscles. He reaches his hand out in offering, and you have to give his face another once-over to confirm that it wasn’t an elaborate ruse before you take it. 

He slowly drags you towards him before nudging you to sit in his chair as he smiles, “Well, I’ll apologize for the public messages, it just seemed like the opportune moment when Lavender approached me.” 

“Lavender approached you?” You quietly squawk, not even batting an eye when Blaise crouches in front of you and brings his other hand to clasp yours. 

“My attraction to you is no secret, Y/N. Not that I tried to hide it.” He supplies, eyes full of warmth as you recount all the indecipherable looks you’d received from Blaise’s friends over the months. Honestly, you had merely assumed they were looking for a fight. 

Squeezing the boy’s hands, and ignoring the tingling that buzzed up your wrist from the coolness of his steel rings, you muse, “So… you like me.” 

“Hm.” Blaise hums patiently, assured by your reciprocation of his physical touch. 

“Well, you’re quite the romantic, Zabini.” You can’t fight the lopsided smile that falls on your face. 

Blaise huffs a small laugh as he shakes his head, “I was thinking you’d hold a contrary sentiment.” 

“You better be planning ways to make it up to me, public scrutiny is not enjoyable.” You mutter with a small grin, relishing in the way Blaise shifted at your words. 

He gives your hands a firm squeeze before he straightens up and leans towards you, “There’s no rush anymore.” 

“Who says? I’m fleeing once we graduate.” Your teasing elicits an eye roll from the boy as he shakes his head. 

Leaning over, he grazes his lips over your forehead as he mutters, “Funny, but no can do, you’re stuck with me.” 

His arms encircle you as he continues to drop light pecks to your face, clearly uncaring of the unconventional crane of his spine as he does so. Bringing a hand up, you place it on his cheek before leaning to join your lips together, acutely aware of how his hands tighten around your frame as he leans in impossibly closer to you. 

Pulling back briefly, you smile as an idea balloons in your thoughts, “I’m going to need to find Lavender later.” 

Blaise’s hands draw circles on your waist as he hums, “Why’s that?” 

“I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I? I have the perfect anonymous submission.” You grin brightly, tugging at his tie to draw him closer. 

His eyebrows slowly raise at your words as he leans in, “Yeah?” 

“Yep. How does ‘Blaise Zabini is a terrible flirt and an even worse snog’ sound?” 

Blaise hums and drags you closer to him as a playful glint blazes across his lidded gaze, “It sounds like I’ll have to change your mind before then.” 

“I agree.” You whisper just as his lips sink against yours again, the faint scent of his cologne swirling around you like a blanket as you lean back against the table. 

And when morning rolls around, bringing clear skies and a new column of Hogwarts Anonymous, you can only shrug your shoulders when Susan practically slams the paper against your face in fervid question. 

‘Hogwarts Anonymous. Submission 0283: Blaise Zabini is an alright snog.’

masterlist

so excited for pt 3!!!! i loved it

nina cried power |tsu'tey x reader|

part two of this

a/n: please forgive me lovelies :) i can't help but crave the chaos, currently working on the final part!

warnings: angst, cliff hangers, one singular cuss word

vocab ‘Itan: son - sa'nok: mother - syvue: food - tsngan: meat - tute: female - oel ngati kameie: i see you

Days. Weeks. Months. 

You no longer kept count, why should you when your heart has stopped beating the moment her hand touched his? Why should you be held responsible for keeping score of the days that had passed? Why was your heart the one to be consistently broken over Tsu’tey and Sylwanin?

You knew the blame you placed on him was not fair. It was not called for, yet that didn’t stop the anguish from rising in your chest every time you were a witness to their growing love. No matter how far you distanced yourself from the clan, there was always talk of their future Olo’eytukan and Tsahik. 

Everyone was waiting for the day the two of them were officially mated, the day the clan would welcome the new leaders. But you knew in your heart, you would run away before you ever had to see it come true. 

It was no surprise that you had changed dramatically since that night. You traded your bright beaded tops for dull feathered ones instead. No longer wishing to finally catch the eye of your oldest friend. 

But it seemed no matter how hard you tried to hide away, Tsu’tey always noticed you. He was no fool. He knew how hurt you had been, the look on your face so raw and full of anguish. No one could have missed you running away towards the woods. 

He himself would have been surprised if he hadn’t been told mere minutes before the announcements. It was a reminder that he could never fully choose his future. No part of him had ever craved to mate with Sylwanin, but every fiber of him ached to be with you. You who had stuck by his side through everything, through the fights with his family, his flight of passage, and every other challenging moment. You were a constant, you were his. 

————————————————————

“Ah, Y/N, he is staring at you again. You must put him out of his misery,” Ninat giggled, lowly gesturing to the group of warriors across the way. 

Eyes quickly darting upwards, your heart sank as you met the eyes of Orew. The slightest glimmer of hope, wishing your eyes met his. 

“Ninat! Do not spread rumors you baby! I know nothing of this misery you speak of! Orew is nothing but a skawang, a foolish boy,” you hissed, face heating as she just laughed harder at you. 

Bearing your teeth at your friend, you turned your attention towards the necklace you were making. Smiling downwards at the colorful gems you had spent weeks collecting in the forest. So absorbed in your work, you didn’t hear the footfalls behind you.

“That necklace is going to look beautiful on you,” a deep voice rumbled, spooking you from your inner thoughts. 

Quickly looking up, you met the sparkling eyes of Orew. Heart racing in your chest from being snuck up on, a polite smile gently finding home on your face. 

“Thank you Orew, it is quite pretty but it’s not for me. It’s for someone very special to me,” you answered sincerely, hoping he would just walk away. 

“Well they are very lucky. One could only be so lucky to wear something you’ve crafted for them. I hope to one day be so lucky,” he spoke confidently, before sending you a striking smile and heading back towards his friends. 

The moment his back was turned, Ninat tightly grabbed your arm and practically screamed, “He is so into you!” 

Rolling her eyes as you pushed her away, you were oblivious to the tall na’vi watching you closely from the treeline. 

—-------------------------------

One thing about the clan was that the minute a rumor was whispered, it spread like wildfire throughout the entire village. Whether it was true or not hardly mattered, as long as the members of the clan had something to keep their days interesting. 

So it was no surprise to you when a rumor that Sylwanin was choosing to mate with Ayawon started to make its way through the clan. It wasn’t the first rumor of its likeness to be passed around. From the moment she came of age, every elder sa’nok hoping the name of their ‘itan would stick. The Olo’eytukans family always fell unlucky to the gossiping of small minded na’vi. When you heard this rumor you couldn’t help the hollow laugh that escaped your throat. The harshness of it surprising even yourself. 

Deep down, you and everyone else knew that Sylwanin would never go against her fathers orders. She was promised to Tsu’tey and in order to be the next Tsahik, she would have to make tsaheylu with him. Why would she give up a lifetime of training for a mediocre warrior? When she had the finest warrior the clan had to offer and the future Olo’eytukan? She was no fool and knew the importance of the future of the clan. 

Pushing the rumor out of your mind, you continued on with your day. Spending much of the morning helping forage for herbs with the healers before heading back to the village for syvue. As you walked towards the large fire, whispers flowed throughout the clan already gathered. Grabbing a bowl of tsngan, you found a quiet spot to enjoy your meal. The comfort of the moment ruined when a voice bellowed, “YOU DID WHAT?”

Looking up from your bowl, your eyes widened at the scene unfolding in front of you. There before you stood Sylwanin. Hand in Hand with Ayawon, but further than that, they stood with their queues connected as the final sign of mating. Beyond her stood a furious Eytukan, glaring at his eldest daughter. 

Gasps rippled throughout the village as they watched with rapt attention. Rumors were one thing, but you could barely comprehend what was happening. 

“Ayawon and I have mated before Eywa. It is done,” Sylwanin spoke fiercely, never breaking eye contact with her father. 

“If you chose this Sylwanin, you can and will not be Tsahik,” Mo’at rushed out quickly, almost as if hoping her daughter would change her mind. 

“I have made up my mind. I choose him as my mate,” she replied strongly, turning to smile lovingly at her new mate. 

“Then that is how it should be. Sylwanin will no longer lead our clan as Tsahik. She has chosen,” Eytukan declared loudly, “Tsu’tey may choose my youngest Neytiri as his promised and keep his place as future Olo’eytukan or pick a mate of his choice and continue down his path as a warrior. Like Sylwanin, the choice is his.”

Your heart couldn’t take the implications of what just happened and you felt as though you would faint on the spot. Voices erupted from throughout the crowd as the other tute na’vi weighed the newest addition to the mating pool. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes scanned the crowd until they met the familiar yellow ones you adored. Tentatively Tsu’tey raised a hand in a small wave. To anyone else it was insignificant, miniscule in the grand scheme of things. But to you, it was a new beginning. 

It was Tsu’tey telling you Oel ngati kameie. 

You raised your hand to wave back and was on the verge of a genuine smile for the first time in months, when the ground shook and all hell broke loose. 

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

taglist: @fanboyluvr @daydreamer2k @fourcefulcupid @brooklynscherry-z @sovereignsylvia @n1ght5h4d3-24 @cupidddd-d @jojo-munson @saltedcoffeescotch @arsonfrogger @nicoletk

THIS WAS AMAZING OH MY GOSH

reverie || bradley “rooster” bradshaw

summary: arguing with rooster in the rain. :) what could possibly happen? you definitely won’t kiss in the midst of a storm. right? right???? unless…

words: ~1.1k

warnings: brief mentions of violence, angst, cliche rain kiss. raining on the beach kiss (ok mayb this is even more romantic but i’m 100% here for it) also some swearing

a/n: MY FAVORITE FIC TROPE OF ALL TIME. i knew i was due for a rooster fic with the classic rain kiss scene, so here we are!!

“Echo. What are you doing out here?” 

You turned around to see a rather calm-looking Rooster standing by the dock.

“Leave me alone.”

Rooster sighed, and started making his way down the wooden steps. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.”

Keep reading

obsessed

some atsv characters with a reader that dresses bimbo, w/ the makeup and nails ect :)

MIGUEL

instantly your gonna get called “diva”.

loves the opposites looks though

he pays for all your expensive mini skirts.

insert miguel’s shocked face. “mi amor?! this skirt is the size of a belt! £35 for a piece of stripped fabric?? dios mío.” he groans, swiping his card at the register.

will just lean in the door way watching you do your makeup. loves it nowhere near as much as your natural face but if you’re happy hes ecstatic (secretly. we all know he has to keep the badass exterior.)

occasionally pulls your skirt down a little so it’s covering more. that place is only for him to see >:(!

sugar daddy vibes. dropping you off at the nail salon and picking you up all fancy with your starbucks order in hand😚😚

MILES

is way too scared to touch you in fear of messing up your pretty hair or makeup.

ADORES EVERYTHING.

something about you getting cold in your skimpy pink outfit and his black hoodie is going over your shoulder gets him giggling. everyone knows it’d have to be his.

asks his parents for money so he can pay for your nails😭😭

you assure him that he doesn’t have to pay and when he’s not allowed money he’s the one that swipes your card so it looks like its his. delusional king.

will 100% have your starbucks order memorised and when he hears you say for the first time just pauses with a “…how did you say all of that in the span of ten seconds?..”

brags 100%. if he has his other friends round his place and you’ve left one of your bright pink shirts there will go, “oh! sorry guys don’t mind the pink shirt over there.” knowing damn well he doesn’t wear pink..nor baby tees.

GWEN

you’re the reason she dyed the ends of her hair pink. always has a bit of your sweetness around🫶🏻

shopping sprees!!! then after y’all go to mcdonalds and she’s tucking napkins over your shirt so the sauce doesn’t ruin it.

feeding you fries so your lipstick doesn’t smudge.

genuinely just loves to be up close with you.

she’s taking out your perfectly clipped and bumped up hair at the end of the day. being oh so gentle as your head falls asleep by her shoulder.

when you go to her place she empties out all the things she feels you’d like from her closet and now you have your own drawer. spare makeup, hair clips, a mini straightener and her brightly coloured hoodies and jumpers.

y’all share socks. shut up its cute!!!!!!!

she’s got ones with stars scattered on them and you’ve got hearts on yours.

HOBIE

as we’ve noted, he doesn’t believe in consistency so the stark contrast between you two is adorable.

always holding your hand, thumb going over the 3d details on your nails.or he’s straight up staring at the glittery gloss as you talk while making hand gestures.

‘darlin’ and doll’ are now your new names.

you give him hair inspo and he gives you hair inspo😭😭

has a special pink guitar pic that he uses when you’re around!!!!

absolutely enamoured with your nails, you know the questions coming. the dreaded question.

when y’all are comfy, cuddling he speaks the dreaded moment. “doll, …how’d you wipe your arse with those.” and the cute moment is ruined. you obviously where not gonna share your struggles so you hit him back with the “girls don’t poop, idiot.”

PETER B PARKER

when you babysit mayday she always comes back with painted nails + toes. peter always having the same question. “how’d you get her to stay still for that long?!” with a smile you reply. “she makes exceptions for her favourite.”

if you guys are eating and sauce or something gets on your painted lips, he doesn’t even mention it. just straight away wiping it off and going back to the conversation at hand.

is the main funder for your clothes.

miguel and him fight over it all the time. miguel’s usual comeback “spoil your own kid! this ones mine!” and peter rolling his eyes.

peters the kinda guy to fund your usual things. his price range going from £5 - £25. as it happens more oftens.

miguels on the other hand. £35 - £200. and it obviously is a rare occasion.

to give extra thanks to peter you’d kiss his cheek. leaving a pink kiss stain behind and him proudly showing it off.

obsessed with the style. he’s a pretty chill guy so when asking you to come down to the store with him and you walk out in full glam, plans change. “yeah, no, we’re going to dinner instead. cmon pretty.” there was no option that was an order😭

you guys ended up stealing the pink coasters at the restaurant.

BONUS!! you’re maydays personal stylist. nails, done, hair? done, needing an outfit? done. and she sits still and pretty the whole time. completely shocking everyone else how you’ve kept her quiet. she just focuses on your pretty glittered eyelids as your big fluffy lashes bat at her sweetly🫶🏻🫶🏻

you after atsv spoils you rotten😭😭

Tsu'tey and my OC Ayluna 💜

He always looks after her, coz the TsahÌk told him to do so! After long time spending together, taking care of her and teaching her, how to life on pandora, he starts to fall for her.

I think, he only realises this, after the fear of losing her kicks in. When he starts to be over protective. Being afraid something happenes to her.

In this artwork I thought about, that he realised her beauty for the first time and his heart jumped a big. His body moved at his own, he goes into the water and pulled Ayluna in his arms. Keep her close, after the fear of maybe losing her one time too kicks in. Disclaimer : Ayluna is an Avatar but she is consciousness like Jake, she doesn't has a controller. She is 50% Human and 50% na'vi DNA she is NOT an albino

USDFDHEFHDG THIS GOT ME GIGGLINF AND EVERYTHING i loveeeddd it <33

𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘)

— language, just two flustered dorks & a ton of fluff, sort of love at first sight (?), friends to lovers, brief fake relationship, eventual jealous!neteyam, kissing, heavy angst & character death.

just this once. you were supposed to help tsireya out just this once. but how are you supposed to help out your best friend when it involves distracting one of the most sought-after warriors from their clan? how are you supposed to distract him for a single day without catching feelings for him? you find yourself in a position where you realize it's impossible for you to meet neteyam "just this once".

a/n: this is just a prologue to the actual story, so i don't expect it to do well lol (please don't let the general fluff deceive you, this story doesn't have a happy ending !!)

"hellooo, earth to na’vi?" tsireya called, waving her hand in front of your distracted gaze.

it was early in the morning when she managed to find you tending to the ilus by the reef, her unannounced visit catching you off guard. you only sighed at her words as you turned to face her.

"you should stop spending so much time with that forest boy, you're starting to sound like him." you muse, prompting a soft laugh from your best friend.

the moment you got up and started your descent back into the village, tsireya trailed closely behind. you narrowed your eyes as she followed you silently. she was up to something.

"what is it?" you sighed. despite your attention focused on what was in front of you, you could sense her growing smile from behind.

"about that forest boy.." she grinned, already sensing your intrigue.

"i’m listening." you hummed, exchanging quick greetings with the passerby clan members.

"i need you to distract his brother." she whispered, her words only making you quirk a brow.

it had been two weeks since the sullys first arrived. like tsireya, you were happy to welcome them into the clan. the only difference, however, was that you had no time to be around them.

as awa'atlu's hidden jewel, you had spent an ample amount of your time practicing your dance choreography for the clan's future celebrations instead.

today's duties would be no different.

"you know i'm far too busy with rehearsals to waste time with some boy." you sighed, noticing her disappointed frown.

"it’s not like you have a choice! my father requested you teach them the history of our upcoming dance festival." she pouted.

in all honesty, you weren't surprised—coming from a family whose legacy is known for passing down the title of being the clan’s sole principal dancer, you would be the most suitable for the task.

"so you're trying to sneak off with your crush while i’m at work?" you jokingly scoffed.

"and what if i am?" she grinned.

"you’ve become shameless, tsireya." you laughed, nudging your elbow into hers.

"come on, do it for me! you’ve already been ordered to meet with them today." she insisted, tugging at your arm. you only stared into her doe eyes as she silently waited for you to give in—which of course, worked.

"if it's my duty, i suppose i don't have a choice. but you owe me for this." you sighed before shortly erupting in giggles as she pulled you by the hand to the sully’s pod.

—

making your way over, tsireya was first to knock. the sound of her sudden presence only caused lo’ak to stumble over his brother's wooden carving. peeking your head in, the two of you couldn't help but laugh as you witnessed neteyam scowl at his brother.

"tsireya! and.. tsireya’s friend? what’s up?" lo’ak greeted as his brother only turned his head at the mention of another face.

"lo’ak, this is my closest friend—the one who'll be joining us today at the reef." you silently waved as tsireya introduced your name.

"nice to meet you." he hummed, pausing for a brief moment. there was a sudden hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"you.. haven't heard anything about me from the others, have you? you can't trust a single thing ao'nung says." he jokes nervously.

"oh, trust me, i’ve already heard a lot of things about you from tsire—mmph!" your words were cut off the moment tsireya palmed her hand over your mouth, hissing.

fortunately, your banter was cut short the moment his elder brother made his way over to the three of you. slowly releasing her hand from your face, tsireya cleared her throat.

"ah—this is neteyam." she coughed. a few moments passed in silence before she noticed how you froze up.

“introduce yourself.” she whispered, nudging your arm with her elbow to speak. your back naturally straightened in response as heat rose to your cheeks.

“i’m—uh, nice to.. meet you?” you stuttered. shit. it was your first time meeting him and you’ve already embarrassed yourself, you mentally cursed.

“hey nice to meet you, i’m neteyam.” he silently mused.

nobody laughed but him.

neteyam only mouthed a small 'what?' as everyone stared at him for a few moments. you, however, couldn't hold back a chuckle.

it wasn't the joke itself that was funny—no, the joke was absolutely terrible. instead, it was the confused expression on his face, as if he hadn't just dropped the worst joke imaginable.

“bro, are you trying to win worldwide fame for unfunny jokes?” lo’ak sighed.

“i thought it was pretty funny.” he shrugged, his eyes silently searching for your reaction.

“yeah, funny.” you scoffed, meeting his gaze for a stilled moment.

his expression was serious, but you noticed the way it slightly softened when he looked at you. as if the way he looked at you just felt different from the way he looked at everyone else.

you can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something that makes you think you might just get along with him.

tsireya only grinned as the two of you unknowingly locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"well, if you don't want the day to pass us, i suggest the two of you join at us at the reef!" tsireya waved, grabbing lo’ak’s hand. as you watched their figures retreat, neteyam’s tail tapped your leg.

“shall we?” he hummed, slightly bowing down like a prince as he took a few steps before you.

“why of course, my liege.” you mocked whilst doing a slight curtsy. you couldn’t help but reciprocate his coy smile as you followed him to the edge of the docks.

you were the first of the four to dive into the water, submerging your entire body until your hair was completely soaked. you watched as neteyam stood over you from the dock while lo’ak and tsireya jumped in.

“you do swim, do you not?” you smiled, looking up at him from below. for a few moments, he didn't respond. you frowned at the fact that you couldn't read his expression.

what are you thinking? is what you wanted to ask him, but the two of you had just met, and you didn't think it would be appropriate to pry, no matter how curious you were.

what neteyam couldn't tell you, however, was that he couldn't get into the water because he was too focused on you.

what were the chances of the sun's horizon hitting your face the exact moment you were before him? the orange rays shined brightly onto your features.

golden hour looked beautiful on you.

"…what a ridiculous question." he scoffed, dismissing his thoughts. you only smiled as droplets of water splashed onto you the moment he dived in.

"you finally joined us." tsireya laughed, swimming further out with lo’ak on their ilus.

following their lead, you called for your ilu, diving underwater to grab onto the saddle and resurfacing shortly after. the moment you returned to neteyam’s side, he couldn't help but watch as your ilu nuzzled it's face against his.

"mine’s got quite the charm." he hummed, though you only snorted at his smug remark.

"what?" he questioned, eyeing your unimpressed reaction.

"these ilus are mated, neteyam." you laughed, watching as he mouthed a silent 'oh'. you were quick to swim further ahead, calling out to him as you turned back.

"come on, forest boy. we have places to explore!" you smiled, turning around to follow after tsireya and lo’ak. neteyam only shook his head, scoffing a laugh before following shortly behind.

—

a few minutes into the journey, you suddenly paused, sitting still atop your ilu for a brief moment. your eyes focused on the horizon as you basked in the warmth of the sun on your face.

"what’s wrong, tired already?" neteyam teased, making his way to your side.

"don’t get funny with me." you scoffed, playfully pushing him off his ilu with your leg. you erupted in laughter as you watched him slowly rise back up to the surface, glaring.

"very funny, now help me back up." he sighed.

you hummed and offered your hand as you waited for him to settle back atop his ilu, though your smile only faded as his next action caught you off guard.

the moment he grabbed onto your hand, he pulled you down with him. you could only yelp as you already felt yourself falling in. rising back up to the surface, you gasped for air, turning to face neteyam’s satisfied expression.

"you’re a pain." you scoff, running your fingers through your hair and out of your face as neteyam stole a glance while you weren't looking.

once again, neteyam watched as the orange hues clashed with your teal skin—sunkissed and glowing with shades of gold displayed naturally onto you.

he figured if anyone was the embodiment of the sun's beauty, it'd be you.

you eventually met back up with tsireya and lo’ak, spending the following hours swimming through the ocean till sunset. the four of you conversed on your ilus, floating still above the deep ocean. along the way, you taught the two brothers about the tradition of awa'atlu's celebrations.

"the clan continues to hold the festival annually to mark another year of living among the reefs. it’s a symbol of the clan's life and our peace." you remarked.

"…and you dance for such a grand occasion?" lo’ak awed.

"mhm, so does ao'nung. our festival is to take place in the following weeks, your family arrived just in time." you hummed.

as the sun began to set, your conversation had gradually come to an end. you began to wonder when exactly tsireya would need your 'help', though your question was shortly answered.

"you know, i was actually hoping to assist a certain someone with their diving skills before the day ends." tsireya coughed, narrowing her eyes at lo’ak. anyone could see how smitten he was with her by the way his tail instantly swayed at her words.

"alright, let's get on with it then." neteyam hummed.

shit.

in that moment, you realized exactly what you needed to do, mentally cursing neteyam for being so blissfully ignorant. and if it wasn't clear enough already, tsireya’s glare spoke for itself. as she tilted her head at you, the question 'what are you waiting for?' was written all over her face.

"ah, wait—actually, neteyam!" you called, your words causing him to turn back.

"i was wondering if you could accompany me—back to the.. beach." you blurted, his questioned expression only made you gulp.

"there’s a certain spot that me and tsireya like to visit, it's beautiful past dusk."

"i’ll.. i’ll be busy, for the next few days—so today may be the only time in which i’ll get to show it to you." you reasoned.

as neteyam turned back to tsireya and lo’ak for their thoughts, he was met with his brother glaring at him to agree and tsireya smiling happily.

"it’s a very lovely place, neteyam. i’ll make sure to bring lo'ak there as well." she exclaimed.

"then.. if you're happy to have me, i’d like to come along." he smiled, waiting for your directions. you sighed at his words, feeling a giant weight lift off your chest as tsireya made her way to your side.

"well, i’ll meet back with you before eclipse! have fun." she smiled. you only sighed as she mouthed a quick 'thank you' before swimming off with lo’ak. you turned back to face neteyam, huffing quietly as you realized you wouldn't be returning home anytime soon.

—

the orange skies of pandora were slowly replaced with purple as the sun began to set. the two of you walked down the path that was dimly lit by torches as younger children ran past you giggling. a few were quick to run into your arms, calling out your name as they laughed.

"what are you all doing out this late? your mother is probably looking for you, hurry back!" you smiled, ruffling their hair.

"please show us your dancing again!" the youngest begged, tugging at your sash. the others eagerly nodded as they stood in front of your crouched figure.

"how about i let you all come by and watch me rehearse tomorrow morning instead?" you smiled, handing them a small seashell that you'd previously collected from the ocean.

despite your wager, the kids persisted, begging to stay. neteyam did nothing but watch in silence as you spoke to them. he couldn't help but smile, feeling feel his heart tighten at the sight of seeing qualities of his youngest sister in them.

soon after, the eldest child, perhaps around six or seven, showed up and saw you and neteyam with their siblings. their ears turned down in embarrassment as they completely misunderstood the situation.

"you guys! can’t you see they're on a date? come on, let's head home!" the eldest scolded, muttering apologies to both you and neteyam while you stood up.

"what? wait, we aren't—"

your words were cut short as neteyam took your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours. his hands were huge, his fingers were slender, and his touch was warm compared to your own.

"that’s right, you should all head home before your parents get worried." neteyam smiled, watching them all apologize before quickly running back home to their pod. you only narrowed your eyes at him the moment they left.

"what? they would've never left had i not gone along with it." he smiled.

the two of you carried on walking down the path, though you found yourself unable to muster up anything as you realized his hand was still holding yours.

neteyam, however, was quick to notice your silence. like the respectable son he was, he was quick to let go, apologizing.

"wait—sorry, i didn't realize—did i make you uncomfortable?" he stuttered, mumbling apologies.

"what? oh—no! no. i just.." you struggled to find the right words to say as he continued to stare down at you.

"sorry, your eyes make me shy." you weakly mumbled, covering your flustered face with your hands for a brief moment.

after what seemed like minutes, you slowly peeked through your fingers to see neteyam’s reaction as he continued to fall silent. safe to say, it was the complete opposite of what you were expecting.

"are you.. blushing?" you questioned.

"what? no." he retorted almost instantly. for some reason, seeing him in such a state brought back the casual expression you once had.

"don’t tell me.. i got the ever-stoic neteyam to blush?"

"no, it's.. the cold." he huffed, pointing out the fact that the sun had just completely fallen.

"the cold, and not what i just said?" as you watched him look away to the side, you hardly found the words to carry yourself casually.

"no."

he was blushing harder.

you took a deep breath in, eyeing back and forth between him and his hand. finally, you chose to take the latter, grabbing his hand into yours as you pulled him to the spot you and tsireya spoke of.

"wait, what are you—"

"does this answer your question?" you voiced, weakly smiling as you walked further towards the outskirts. watching your figure guide him forward, all neteyam could do was smile.

"yeah."

you let go of his hand once the two of you reached the spot. otuer than the shoreline leading to the reef, it was a secluded sandbank far from the village that was surrounded by enormous rocks. it had a view of the full moon right above the ocean in the center. neteyam only stood there in awe of the view.

"what do you think? was it worth the wait?" you smiled.

"definitely.” he sighed, walking toward the shore and stepping his feet into the water. his smile as he turned back to face you made your heart skip a beat. maybe once, twice, shit—maybe even three times.

there’s just something moon-soaked and dawn-flavored about him, something kissed by the stars and loved by the night. neteyam was a warrior who was your opposite in every way. and yet, in some ways, the two of you seemed to be the exact same.

you were only supposed to help tsireya distract him, just this once. but the damage was already done the moment your eyes met.

something began to spark.

the two of you continued to revel under the moonlight until tsireya finally returned with lo’ak. as neteyam showed his brother the view, tsireya was quick to pull you over.

"so, how was it?" she smiled.

"it wasn't as bad as i thought it'd be." you shrugged, your gaze fixed upon neteyam’s figure as his back faced you. tsireya, being the observant person she was, made note of this. there was nothing you could do that your best friend couldn't notice.

"then, i sense the two of you have gotten close?" she teased.

"don’t start, tsireya. i was just helping you for today." you sigh, your thoughts contradicting your words.

"whatever you say." she hummed.

"but just so you know.."

"you’re not very hard to read." she grinned, walking back towards the two brothers. you swore your felt your eye twitch at her words.

as tsireya pulled lo’ak over and continued to gaze up at the moon, you faced neteyam, one last time.

"i guess this is my cue to go." you hummed, watching his tail sway back and forth like a cat.

"yeah." he smiled hesitantly.

"…"

"will i.."

"will i see you again?" neteyam questioned. you paused for a brief moment, contemplating your next, careful words.

"i don't know." you responded, observing his slight frown.

"but i hope so." you whispered.

"yeah?" he smiled.

"i hope so too."

@ novarity / 6idgets — do not translate, repost, or copy my work to other sites.

lucky

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt finally gets to take out the girl that's been leaving care packages at his door for two months.

warnings: swearing, slight angst, tooth rotting fluff (might need to call your dentist after this one)

word count: 3k

a/n: the highly requested fluffy sequel to care packages. thank you to everyone that requested this. i hope you enjoy your first date with matty. ❤️ as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

“I hate you, you know that?”

Matt nearly spit out his coffee as he lurched over the conference table slightly, forcing the lukewarm bitter taste down his throat as a wave of incredulous laughter tore through his chest.

“What? Why?”

“Because it isn’t fair. It’s bad enough you’re so goddamn charming, and it’s borderline offensive that you’re like the most attractive dude I’ve ever seen. Not to mention that whole wounded duck routine you’ve got going on that makes all the girls fall at your feet-”

“Foggy, I don’t-”

“-but what’s exceptionally unacceptable is that you somehow managed to find a girl that knows about the horns, and not only didn’t run away, but still agreed to go out with you. Like the fact that you’re a vigilante and a walking human disaster totally didn’t phase her at all. That’s…like…against the rules!”

Matt couldn’t help but snicker at the disgruntled tone lacing his best friend’s exasperated voice, and the way the edges of Foggy’s mouth dipped in displeasure. 

“What rules, Foggy?”

“The rules of the universe, Matt. You’ve had too much good fortune-

“Right, like being blinded and orphaned-”

“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m talking about-”

“Guys, please. If you two keep bickering, Matt’s gonna be late. He’s lucky she’s even going out with him at all. Can we finish this?”

Karen glanced between Matt and Foggy with an arch of her brow, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to capture her lips as Matt’s teasing grin faltered into a purse of his lips from that bruise to his ego.

“Wow. Thank you…for that vote of confidence, Karen.”

“It’s true and you know it. Now, both of you sign these damn papers so we can get out of here before she changes her mind.”

Foggy’s expression suddenly turned serious as he focused his attention solely on Matt, staring at him with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.

“I swear to God, Murdock. If you fuck up my pipeline to those crack cookies, I will never forgive you. You better turn that Matthew Murdock charm up to a million, you got me? I want those cookies, Matt. Cookies.”

»»———　　———««

It had been five days since Matt had asked you to dinner, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Between the slew of court cases he was elbow deep in and the extra patrol he’d been doing at the docks to bust a trafficking ring, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to you again. He couldn’t feel your presence when he awoke past his alarm in the mornings, and when he finally got home at the Devil’s hour, he could hear you below him sleeping soundly in your bed.

For the past five nights, the harmony of your heart’s rhythm had eased him into a peaceful sleep like a serene lullaby.

But Karen’s words had anxiety filling every single cell in his body as he navigated the bustling streets of Hell’s Kitchen. 

What if you had changed your mind?

It had been five days. Five days without getting to speak to you again. Five days without another care package. 

That wasn’t unusual, right?

You didn’t follow a strict schedule with them. The drop offs were usually every few weeks. It just wasn’t time for one.

Or maybe you didn’t want to deliver any more of them.

Maybe the reality of who and what he was sank in and gave you cold feet.

Maybe this was over before it began.

“Fuck.”

Matt felt like he was losing his mind playing the role of the plaintiff and the defendant in the case of had he royally fucked this up already. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this nervous to go on a date. Maybe it was because you were the first person he was going on a date with as himself. Not one half concealing the other. Not with a pre-spun web of lies to cover his tracks. Not with a rehearsal to remember to play down his abilities. 

All his cards were out on the table, and while he felt an absolute rush of liberation that you knew the truth already, the consequences of that truth were daunting and seemed to be lurking around every corner of his mind. By the time he reached his door, his clammy hands kept slipping over his key, and sweat had started to bead uneasily along his hairline.

Should he call this whole thing off?

He really didn’t want to. 

Did you want him to call it off?

He prayed you didn’t.

Had you been thinking about him for the past five days too?

He really hoped so.

»»———　　———««

When Matt finally made it to your door, he was nearly out of breath and his cheeks were flushed with heat. He had changed three times because you had, and he didn’t want to be over or underdressed. He focused his senses intently on you, trying to decipher the materials and textures of the outfit you finally settled on. You had music playing as you got ready, and for a few moments Matt just paused and listened to you hum along. You seemed to be in a good mood, and that eased his nerves considerably.

Was it wrong for him to invade on your privacy like that? The angel on his shoulder was already adding it to the laundry list for his confession on Sunday. But the Devil in him argued that he was going to hear you anyway. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help what his senses picked up.

Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to meet you at your door, Matt panicked and realized he hadn’t got you any flowers, and promptly ran down the street in search of a vendor. He spent eight minutes trying to pick some out. He didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, and roses felt too cliche and insincere. He wanted to pick something special, something that showed he put thought into them, even if he had run to get them right before he was supposed to pick you up.

The vendor had talked him into a bouquet of violet peonies, and since he didn’t have time to spare, he raced back praying that this was the one flower you didn’t hate or God forbid were allergic to.

Matt took a moment to gather himself outside your door; wiping the sweat from his brows with the back of his hand, attempting to steady his rapid breathing, smoothing his windblown hair back into place, and reciting a quiet Lord’s Prayer for good measure.

When his knuckles finally collided with your door to knock, he didn’t know if his heart was racing from the marathon he had just run, or because of you. 

The light patter of your feet eagerly approaching the door caused a smile to grace his lips, and once he tuned out the sound of his own heart raging in his ears, he could hear yours fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird.

You were nervous too.

There was a bright smile on your lips, and a light twinge of embarrassment from how quickly you had flung your door open, and you let out a quiet laugh at your own expense.

“Hi Matthew.”

God, he had forgotten how melodic your voice sounded, and how much he suddenly loved his own name hearing it fall from your lips.

“Just Matt, is okay. Only my priest calls me Matthew. And, well…a few judges in the courtroom. And my partners when I cause them undue stress in the workplace. I mean you…you can call me whatever you want, whatever’s more comfortable. It’s just-it’s kinda formal, and you don’t have to-”

“Matt’s nice. I like Matt.”

“Matt likes you.”

Matt internally grimaced as those words slipped past his lips, and the mixture of disapproval and mortification on his face from his own blunder caused a fit of giggles to erupt from your mouth.

“Well, then we’re on the same page. Glad we’ve covered that base for tonight.”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he dipped his head for a moment, trying to find the source of his usual easy charm to refuel his glaring depletion. He cleared his throat as tilted his head to the side slightly, gazing blankly past his crimson glasses in the direction of your face with a somewhat shy smile on his full lips while delicately handing you the bouquet.

“I uh…didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked, but the guy said these were the prettiest ones he had.”

Warmth spread across the tops of your cheeks when your fingers lightly brushed against his to retrieve his thoughtful offering, your lips immediately splitting into a wide grin.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Matt. I love peonies. How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

Matt perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter as a proud, dimple-showcasing, toothy grin took over his mouth.

“Lucky guess.”

“Do you always get so lucky?”

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.”

Matt’s dazzling grin immediately dropped, and you could see his eyes widen behind the cherry tinted lenses. As his face paled and his lips parted in horror, his brows shot up above the frame of his glasses.

“Oh God, I didn’t-that wasn’t…I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not-you’re not-this isn’t…I meant the date. Not that I’m expecting anything-I wouldn’t-I just…meant I hope it goes well. I didn’t-Jesus fucking Christ.”

You were nearly in tears with laughter as Matt stumbled over his words. A part of you felt bad for laughing at the clarity of his humiliation, but it was so endearing knowing he was just as affected by his nerves as you were. This man that went out every night to take down dangerous criminals, and was arguably the most feared man in the city himself, was standing in front of your door stumbling over an apology about an unintended double entendre. 

Reaching out to place your hand on his arm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, momentarily distracted by the dense muscle you felt beneath the soft material of his shirt, before smiling at him in sympathy as you attempted to control your laughter. 

“Matt, it’s okay. Really.”

He let out a deep exhale, his tongue darting out to wet his lips quickly as he let out a short and dry chuckle. Matt nodded his head in your direction, a faint curve of self-deprecation on his lips.

“Is this the worst first date you’ve ever been on?”

There was a teasing tone accompanying the timber of his voice, but layered beneath you could detect a chord of genuine curiosity intermingled with trepidation. The smile on your lips only grew as you looked up at him.

“Actually, it’s one of the best.”

Matt was completely in awe of you. There wasn’t a single falter in your heart’s rhythm. He felt his lips easily mirroring the smile that was on yours, reaching his hand out to lightly grasp your elbow as your hand was still comfortably placed on his bicep.

“What would I have to do to make it the best?”

“Hm. What’s for dinner?”

“Italian. That I know you like.”

A soft noise of content hummed from your throat, and the grin that bloomed on your lips triggered his own.

“Yeah, you’re definitely in my top three right now. But, the night is still young.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at the playful invitation that flowed from your voice.

“Top three? I can work with that. I like a challenge.”

»»———　　———««

The restaurant Matt brought you to was a quaint, family owned spot just a few blocks away from your shared apartment building. It’s a place he had passed by on several instances, the aroma of fresh produce and homemade pasta sauce passed down through generations capturing the intrigue of his senses every time he crossed its path, but he had wanted to save it for a special occasion like a celebratory fifty year old bottle of champagne.

And tonight, he was popping the cork on it with you.

The space was incredibly cozy. Tea light candles flickered romantically on every table and cast an amber glow in the somewhat dim lightning. Collections of sepia and noir photos of large families and historic Italian architecture decorated the walls. The imported Sangiovese was rich in tannins and bold in flavor, caressing your tongue like bittersweet velvet. And the loud personality and thick accent of your waiter repeating your orders off in an alluring symphony of Italian made you feel like you and Matt had somehow been transported straight from Hell’s Kitchen to Italy just by passing through the door.

Both of your nerves seemed to evaporate into the breeze flowing through the open windows with every splash of burgundy against your lips and exchange of exquisite flavor from your dishes. Matt asked you questions with childlike excitement, eager to learn more about you, studying you with the exact same enthusiasm he showed important cases that were of the utmost importance to him.

In return, he found himself answering your own inquisitions easily without having to spare the devilish and more complicated details. It was so incredibly emancipating to not have to pretend with you. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t having to play a character. He could just be…Matt.

You approached every question with genuine curiosity and a respectful distance of where his invisible boundaries might be, and it made his heart soar that you were trying so hard to carefully craft his comfort. Matt had known that he was enthralled with you the first time he met you, but by the time dessert came, he was absolutely smitten.

He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he also didn’t want the night to end.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Hm, I don’t know. You sure it isn’t too out of your way?”

Even if Matt couldn’t feel the way your lips parted into a huge smile, he could hear it in the cadence of your voice. The subtle joke made him chuckle as he nodded his chin in your direction, his own mouth pulling into a charming smirk. 

“I’d still offer even if you lived in Long Island.”

The sudden spill of heat across the tops of your cheeks and the quiet sharp intake of your breath had his heart pounding faster in his chest.

“I suddenly wish I did.”

Even though your tone was playful, he could detect the implications behind your words. You didn’t want this night to end either, and that had him soaring up to cloud nine. Feeling emboldened by your indirect confession, Matt reached his hand out slowly to brush his fingertips against the palm of your hand, easily threading his fingers through your own, reveling in the softness of your skin that he had missed. He felt a spark every time your pulse resonated against his own, and his cheeks nearly hurt from how much he was smiling.

“I prefer you living a floor below me.”

By the time the two of you reached your front door, Matt couldn’t tell if it was the electricity from the building buzzing in his ears or the anticipation that kept building the entire walk, growing larger and larger like a snowball ready to plow into his chest to cause an avalanche when you turned your body to face him. As your thumb lightly brushed against the back of his scarred knuckles, a question that had been bouncing around in his head all evening could no longer go unanswered.

“So, as far as first dates go, what’s the verdict? Did I move up at all?”

Matt splayed his most charming smile across his plump lips, and while the flirtation in his voice was evident, so was the unmistakable undertone of uncertainty. The blood rushing through his veins was roaring in his ears like tides crashing against the shore during a storm. 

“I’d say you made it to the top two.”

Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly surprised by your answer, his brows raising above the browline of his glasses slightly.

“Second place?”

“Unless you’ve got a last minute testimony for me to rule in your favor, Counselor.”

Your voice remained soft and teasing, but your heart was fluttering violently in your chest, like the hummingbird was trying to escape its cage. Matt carefully let go of your hand, reaching up to pull his glasses away from his face, baring himself completely before you as he slipped the crimson lenses into his pocket. The slight gasp from seeing his eyes for the first time that caught in your throat caused a bashful smile to appear on his lips. 

His tongue darted out to wet them quickly, catching a taste of the tiramisu you shared still lingering on your tongue. He wanted to devour it from your lips. Taking a bold step forward, he did his best to fix his gaze where he thought yours was, leaning in slightly until your noses were merely an inch apart, the warmth of his breath fanning over your lips.

“May I?”

His voice seemed to have dropped an octave lower, coming out in an intimate whisper that you answered all too eagerly.

“Yes.”

Matt couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly closed the sliver of distance between you, pressing his lips to yours with a satisfied groan, feeling a surge of pride at the way your breath caught in your throat. For a good thirty seconds, you actually stopped breathing. When he reluctantly broke the kiss, he brushed his lips against yours and whispered into them softly.

“Breathe.”

The second the command slipped off his tongue, you exhaled heavily before sucking in a sharp drag of oxygen, and Matt couldn’t stop the smug grin that overtook his entire mouth.

“Well, sweetheart? What’s the verdict now?”

“Yeah…yeah, yeah definitely in the number one spot.”

Matt beamed at the breathlessness of your voice, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest as he purred into your ear.

“Lucky me.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @danzer8705

HWEHEEHHEHEHHEH

hey siri, play wannabe by hey mona

posted on twt too bc why not