Top Posts Tagged with #he says that he becomes consumed with the completion of the task at hand | Tumlook (2024)

Halsin's character in Act 3 post breaking of the Shadowcurse is actually, either intentionally or not, another more quiet and subtle angle of trauma exploration; specifically, the alteration of identity development and its previously existing commitments post traumatic events.

dads best friend!abby scenario cause why the hell not.

cw: sexual themes mdni, age gap, abby’s a co*cky but charming asshole, power dynamics-ish?: ・ෆ・┈・┈・ᕱ⑅ᕱ・┈・┈・ෆ・ :

— "Oh and honey? Doctor Anderson's coming over for dinner" Everything felt oppressively hot and everything felt impossibly tight. The food seared your tongue, humid steam rising from the vegetables on your plate causing your throat to constrict and your eyes to sting with tears. Your right hand was clenched in a tight fist, left hand gripping your fork like it might grow legs and run away if you let go of your grasp. Your tights were itching relentlessly, tank top strap kept sliding off of your shoulder and built itself a home down your arm. Your lipgloss felt too sticky and your palms too clammy, you felt agitated, uncomfortable and way too goddamn nervous.

You felt consumed.

You didn’t know why.

Sure, Doctor Anderson was attractive, with palms twice bigger than yours. She wore a tight fitted muscle tee that had you squinting then turning your head around fast enough to crack your neck, noticing a goddamn six pack poking through maroon fabric. And yeah, she had an intoxicating scent of pine and wood and a hint of pepper that made your eyes nearly roll back inside of your skull, voice silky smooth, thighs firm and muscular, eyes icy blue, a smile that made you melt and all that stupid jazz,

but none of these things were a good enough explanation to why you were feeling this way — dazed, stupid, all bothered.

She sat down on the dinner table’s leather chair in a manspread as if she owned the place, and her thighs bulked up even more, veins of her arms becoming more prominent. She always knew what to say, and when you cracked a joke about orthopedic surgeons she cheekily told you to “watch it” — which made you thickly gulp and sheepishly smile down to the floor like your idol from age thirteen just told you they want to marry you and have you forever.

You needed an ice bath, but she also wouldn’t stop goddamn looking at you, even when you made it clear that eye contact with the surgeon, your father’s best friend, was a task that you apparently couldn’t manage to complete.

Her look made you nervous, and when she narrowed her eyes you nearly choked on a carrot, and when your father asked you “What’s wrong, kid?” you couldn’t even answer because what was wrong — was that you had to cross your legs together cause of some aching down there, and what was wrong is that his best friend made you feel like you were losing your mind at 9pm with a fork glued to your palm.

So you lied.

“M’just... tired, I guess” you murmured, then fake yawned, then internally cringed at yourself for performing the worlds fakest goddamn yawn.

“Already?” he voiced, shifting his gaze towards a visibly amused Abby. “Quite the night owl, that one... usually”

"What can I say, dad, loooong day" answered you, with a syrupy voice she wanted to stick her fingers inside and lick.

Abby chuckled, then smirked at you even though the response wasn’t directed at her. Then, she looked over to your father who was gnawing on some overcooked steak.

“She’s a kid, needs to get her sleep”

You scoffed, which made doctor Anderson poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “What...?” she murmured co*ckily, cracking a toothy grin. Your tights felt tight again, glued to your hot flesh, then you realized why they f*cking call them tights because dammit they really are tight.

“I'm not a kid, can, y’know... drink, and stuff. Plus... M'busy, with... College"

You sounded like a damn idiot. All Abby did was chuckle and tilt her head back slightly, leaning further back in her chair.

“T'aw, I know, What'ryou studying again? Fashion science?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. That bitch.

"Sorry I don't wanna go to medical school and spend seven years of my life sticking my hands down a corpse"

So you didn’t go to your room after that, caught up in a whirlwind of proving a point. You stayed stubbornly with your feet glued to the floor and listened to Abby and your father ramble and yap on about work shenanigans. Usually, you’d semi doze off at this point, go on your phone and occasionally throw a snarky remark, but this was different. She was different than any of his other friends. Abby was actually funny, she didn’t brag too much, and if she did it faded quick cause she really was that good.

Abby threw a reference to a book you thought no one else had read except for you. You timidly lifted your gaze and remarked, “Oh, i read that book, actually”

Abby smiled and flattened her hands on the wooden table. “Smart cookie, huh? Did you like it?”

You batted your eyelashes like a kitten seeking more strokes at the praise, not noticing that body language of yours.

But she did.

You talked about the book for a solid ten minutes. Your father was the one, surprisingly, to go on his phone and faux-snort when he felt excluded from the conversation ran by two intellectuals and a giant elephant who goes by the name of "Tension", in the middle of the room.

Abby made you laugh and she made you think and she listened to your anecdotes. It made you buzz with electricity, and it made you yearn for her attention.

it also made her long for yours.

Your father interrupted by showing Abby a picture from work. When her eyes lowered to his phone, she shot you a lingering gaze and a smirk. You, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks, shyly looked away.

It was tight everywhere all over again.

So they talked more about work, Abby’s patients, their coworkers, Doctor Martha’s chicken pot pie, Doctor Johnson’s bizarre antics, the glass door no one bothered on calling to be fixed, blah blah blah, an endless stream of chatter.

And you listened, you listened with rapt attention, every ounce of your focus aimed at the prospect of another one-on-one conversation with Abby. Each time the older woman casted you with a quick glance, you flushed even harder. You waited, and waited and waited but your father was a blabber mouth, and you were oh so impatient,

you began mindlessly kicking the wooden table's legs.

Your sock-covered feet shifted restlessly from side to side, then you tucked them beneath your chair and resumed kicking, the movements gaining force. You curled your toes and continued to play with the table's handles. Abby winced, but you didn’t pay her any mind. You kicked again, with more force now.

You sighed.

Abby cleared her throat, and her cheeks suddenly bore a faint crimson blush. You couldn't help but notice, hm, must be the red wine finally catching on to her form. Ignoring, you kicked again, and the doctors back straightened and she stiffened in response. Your father asked her a question, and Abby… stammered.

“Yeah, that guys… uh— yeah”

You rested your chin on your hands and lightly tapped your fingertips against your cheeks thrice.

Then you kicked again, harder, you were bored and restless, waiting, give me some attention, Abby —

And then, you felt a pair of shoes encase your feet, ankles creating a cage around yours. It was then and only then that you had the startling realization: you hadn't been kicking the table at all. Instead, you had been unknowingly engaged in a game of footsies beneath the table with a goddamn world class surgeon.

And oh god did you want to die.

And oh god did abby sport a sh*t eating grin on her face that only you seemed to catch.

You froze, not even able to release your feet from her iron like grip. Unmistakably, she didn’t seem to release her grip either. So she kept them there, caged and locked.

“Alright,” your father sighed and cleared his throat. “Got some cuban cigars in the yard, shall we?” he gestured towards Abby, who was still holding your feet in her tight grasp.

“Yeah, go ‘head, I’ll just clear the table” she murmured absentmindedly. So kind and polite, huh?

You father chuckled and tapped abby on her shoulder, as he rose from his sit and straightened his back. “Nah, let the kid handle it”

Abby shot you a glance. Your pupils were dilated and your chest heaved rapidly up and down.

“She's not a kid, remember?”

Abby let go of your feet and you rose from the chair with such haste, you nearly had whiplash. When you lifted your plate, staying mute, looking like a deer caught in headlights as your father paced towards the yard, Abby gazed at you, and her eyebrow arched up in utter amusem*nt.

“You uh, play soccer, by any chance?” quipped her, crossing her arms on her firm hard muscly chest.

You gulped.

“Huh?”

Abby lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip that left a glistening sheen on her bottom lip. A chuckle escaped her.

“Jus’, y’know… with all the kicking, and everything. I mean, take a girl out for a drink before you do all that, yeah?”

You stood in shock, you didn’t speak, didn’t mutter a word, merely humming in response. Abby grabbed the plates from your hand, and then she grabbed the salt.

She furrowed her eyebrows and huffed. “M'just ’joking, smart cookie. If you wanna play, let's play"

Then you heard your father’s voice down the hall.

“Sweetheart?” he paced closer as Abby walked towards the sink. He leaned over the wall,

“forgot to mention it to you but, Abby’s staying over for the weekend”

okay, but, neighbor!ghost that doesn't usually celebrate halloween– that is, until his pretty neighbor shows up at his front door with a plateful of pumpkin-shaped cookies.

the spooky tradition was never one for him to celebrate. too many memories associated with terror, fright, and horror. his childhood never provided him with a safe space for him to indulge in the fun activities that many children his age would’ve enjoyed. pumpkin carving with a present family. trick-or-treating with a couple of his elementary school friends. apple bobbing at a local fair. all the festivities that caused people to glow with delight. laughter abundant in the air. hence, halloween was disguised as an excuse for people to use when they desired genuine company. a relief from the typical, dull work/school day. a justification to huddle up and share a slice of serenity. instead, it serves as the opposite for him. dread fills his body while recalling his manchester childhood. with tommy crawling to the edge of his meager bed, adorned in a crude skull mask. a means to scare him. hollow eyes cutting right through him in the shadowy room. a scream ripping from his mouth as his palms become sweaty, body kicking into overdrive. fight or flight instincts consuming him. his fault for letting his guard slip. a mistake he rarely committed now. a mistake he’d never fall victim to ever again. but he’s older now. knows that this specific day is the highlight of some people’s year so he doesn’t rain on their parade. simply withdraws from the excessive decorating that some tend to do. flicks off his porch lights that night, too. doesn’t want to get the neighborhood kids’ hopes up if they see that there’s signs of life within his flat. also discovers that the constant ringing of his doorbell is aggravating and having to frequently grumble, “no candy tonight,” is too bothersome. so he’s not one to celebrate halloween– that is, until there’s a soft knock at his door.

neighbor!ghost who’s cautious about answering the door. because who would need him at this hour? if the base required his presence then they’d phone his landline if it was an emergency. no need to show up at this hour. his dark eyes briefly glance out the nearby window to catch sight of the dusky sky. hues of orange swirled with streaks of titian red that created the perfect backdrop for the evening. the weather had gotten cooler, also. with sharp gusts of wind nipping at the uncovered portions of his face and having to swap out his well-worn shirts for thermal long sleeves. preferred autumn for this sole reason because he’d have to rake up the fallen leaves. gave him a task to complete on the lonesome days when the base didn’t need his presence. he’s mentally checking off a to-do list (did the smoke detector need changing? was the sidewalk covered in leaves? did the ceiling lights need replacing?) when there’s another soft knock. “bloke’s insistent,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “but I’m not buying anythin’.” assumes it’s just a door-to-door scam. or probably people collecting for charity. yeah, those people never let up.

neighbor!ghost who knows that curiosity killed the cat but he argues that satisfaction brings it back. he reaches a hand out to ease out the small piece of paper he stuffed inside the door’s peephole. a tactic he uses for extra security and privacy. never know if an unusual situation will arise. shifting forward, he presses closer to the peephole and focuses his gaze through the small opening. nothing. he huffs in disbelief. can’t believe he’s going through the entire 5 stages of grief solely because of a knock at the door. seriously, how bored must he be to spend this much time on a simple gesture? “wastin’ my bloody time,” he says while narrowing his eyes. yet, his calloused hand grips at the doorknob and twists. perhaps double checking could quell his curiosity.

neighbor!ghost who’s lips draw together to instinctively blurt, “scram,” before going completely silent at the sight of you. the threat falls flat. you’re practically glowing at his doorstep. despite the lack of actual lighting, due to the fact that he prefers his place shrouded in the night’s shadow, you’re still nervously smiling up at him. a vision wrapped in an intricately knit sweater to combat the chilly evening and pretty eyes that follow him when he braces his arm against the doorframe. “hi,” you quickly regard him with a wave of your hand, eyes still trained on his uncovered bicep. Swirls of darkened ink and intricate patterns that failed to conceal toned muscle. accumulated from years of being in the service. and you assumed such a large man would be grim and solemn; unwilling to give you some of his time. yet, his hooded eyes regard you with an inquisitiveness that causes your heart to thrum harder against your chest. it’s clumsy and the tips of your fingers are trembling but that only intrigues him. he can’t help but mull over the fact that your greeting sounds like a bird’s gentle chirp in the early mornings. it’s polite, sweet, and he craves to hear more of it.

neighbor!ghost who discovers that if he wordlessly stands there for long enough, you’re compelled to fill the silence. it’s a rather endearing quirk. prefers it, really. he’d rather listen to your angelic voice than hear his surly one. you initially waited for his response but you’re met with quietude and his perceptive gaze. he’s an expert in ridding people of their ulterior motives. you, however, you’re as kindhearted as they come and his verdict is proven correct when you reveal a tray of cookies to him. “made these earlier,” your gaze darted to the floor before quietly confessing, “wanted to drop some off to you.” the platter of sugar cookies gleamed up at him and ghost blinks– once, twice, three times. there were various designs (pumpkins, ghosts, bats) that were carefully decorated with royal icing in autumn colors. they looked perfect and he’d argue that they were better than the ones that he snagged a peek at from the local bakery. “it’s one of my favorite days so,” you cheerfully mention and cue him to take a cookie, “happy halloween.”

neighbor!ghost who typically doesn’t reach for sickeningly sweet desserts but for you he’d make an exception. he grabs one that you offer to him and rumbles genuine praise, “thanks, sweet thing,” while taking a bite. the nickname provokes a flurry of want within you. you, however, tamper down the desire while you watch with wide eyes. he thoughtfully chews and nods in approval, a movement that draws your focus to him. finishes the treat without any prompting. and with his small confirmation that he enjoyed it, the brightest smile graces your face. the sight festers a warmth within him– one that causes his thoughts to regularly return to you. always. he supposes he could get behind this “halloween” thing if you were the one showing up at his door.

Good Job I Love You ~Theodore Nott

fem reader x theodore nott

warnings- pure smut not much plot, p in v, unprotected sex, mix of praise and degradation, swearing, 18+, fingering, slight org*sm denial.

just a little one shot for my favs!!

The music rages on as you glance around the room, getting looks from all directions as you sway your hips to the beat, red tight dress hiked right up to your hips. Members of the slytherin house gathered into their familiar common room, You look around, no Theo in sight, strange.

As the night goes on and more drinks are consumed, everything starts becoming hazy. “Theoooo” you slur out and wobble towards your friend, Lorenzo Berkshire. The brunette boy looks up at you, seeing the absolute state your in and knowing your looking for Theo.

“Y/N i’m calling Theo stay right there” His soft words manage to comfort you slightly, if it was anybody else you would have probably gone wondering off somewhere, not be believing that they were calling your boyfriend.

Theo arrives minutes later and runs up to you quickly. “Y/N baby are you okay??” His panicked tone evident. “I’m fine Theo i just missed you, i didn’t see you and i didn’t know where you were” You quickly ramble “i tried looking for you everywh-“ Suddenly your cut off by a chaste kiss to your lips. “It’s fine honey, don’t worry. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” God this man was perfect.

His lanky fingers attach to your waist, guiding you out of the noisy, sweat-filled room. Making your way up the stairs was a task and a half with your alcohol fizzled brain, but somehow you managed.

That was until you reached the moving stairs.

“Y/N baby please don’t mess around, it’s dangerous” He says, concern evident. You continue giggling and start drunkenly swaying around the edge of the stairs when he grabs you back.

“Your not funny. I’m serious, you could get hurt and we don’t want that do we Y/N?” A roll of the eyes escapes you but Theo manages to catch a glimpse. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me miss Y/L/N!” He says in a mock-offended tone while the stairs shift again, guiding you up with patience. “Good job i love you” He sighs under his breath.

After managing to wobble up the stairs he leads you to his dorm and lays you gently on the bed. While your lying there he’s busy grabbing one of his tshirts and his blue plaid pajama bottoms for you to sleep in, while also managing to grab a pack of cotton pads and makeup remover.

“Okay princess Y/N, gonna take these off okay?” He gently rests his hand on your heels. “Thank you” You dazily smile up at him before completely knocking out cold asleep.

Theo smirks and shakes his head, boy was this man head over heels for this girl. He removes your shoes while also sliding your dress off, trying not to wake you.

Once he finally managed to get you out of your dress and into his clothes, he slowly removed your makeup, not really knowing what to do but all around putting in a good effort to do so. He then tied your hair back the messy plait he had been practicing on you for weeks, it wasn’t amazing but it would do.

Once the lights were off Theo led down next to you, tucking you in completely before wrapping his arms around you. “Sleep well beautiful.

The next morning Theo felt you stirring as he awoke. “Good night, huh?” He giggled. “Shut up!” You playfully whack his shoulder while laying on his chest. “Make me” This was enough for you and you began kissing his neck. Theo let out a stifled groan and shifted you to sit on his lap. Both of you scramble to get your clothes off and quickly things get hot and heavy..

Theo swiftly flipped you over onto your back as he loomed over you, his large member grinding against your sensitive heat. The intensity makes you shiver and The begins moving his hand from your erect nipple slowly further down until he reached your core. “f*ck- So wet for me already, really love?” He teased and began moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Feel good?” You couldn’t respond, panting and moaning, too dumbed out to talk. “I need words” He reached for your jaw and moved your head, making you look up at him. “Want me to stop?” He asks, clearly. “N-no” You manage to stutter out before returning to the moaning mess you previously were. He moves his hand faster and faster “Good girl”.

Soon enough you felt that familiar sensation burning in your core, squirming and bucking your hips your org*sm hits you like a brick and you come undone all over his fingers.

“f*ck Y/N your such a good girl for me” He lays a passionate kiss to your lips before slowly rubbing his throbbing member over your swollen cl*t. “This okay for you?” “Yes please hurry up Theo” you moan.

Soon, he pushes slowly inside for you moving faster and faster. “So tight for me, g’nna ruin this puss* so g’d” He continues his fierce pace, determined to make you come again.

Moments later your bucking your hips again and he knows your close, “Hold on for me ma, almost there” He speeds up and moves his legs to a new angle, hitting all the right spots as you come completely undone again, squirming and moaning all over his co*ck. Shortly after you he finished, pulling out and laying next to you.

“God can we do that every morning?” Theo says, birding into a fit of giggles.

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 6

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: *Drops this and runs away* THANK ME LATER!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟑𝟔𝟐𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ʟᴀʙᴏᴜʀ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ

“𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚-𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒘𝒆’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘… 𝒂𝒅𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.”

. . .

"And the budget for next month! Woof! I gotta tell ya', Doll, Alasta's been a real Godsent, ya' know what I'm sayin'?"

Hugo’s voice faded into a buzzing white noise as your thoughts drifted off yet again to your musings of the night you’d spent with a certain radio host, whose chiseled, soft features consumed your every waking thought.

Though the details were a complete blur, the sensation of Alastor’s warm embrace hugging around your frame was an unforgettable feeling that you’d be chasing for the rest of your days.

His addictive scent, laced with undertones of cinnamon and soft notes of expensive cologne had embraced you as you recalled his electrifying touch.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, you were surely holding a torch for the man, and according to Hugo, you were horrible at hiding it.

But honestly, who could blame you for falling so deeply? The past week that you’d spent with Alastor had been beautiful, as he had surprised you more and more with courteous, almost flirtatious gestures that grew in both audacity and frequency with each passing day.

Whether it be assorted, freshly picked bouquets that he’d set upon your bedside table for whenever you woke up, or beautiful dresses and tops that looked to be hand-tailored from a certain seamstress you’d become very well-acquainted with, or chocolates and sweets that he’d whip up himself, just for you, Alastor always delivered in full.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Alastor was trying to court you.

Really, it was like he was trying to make you melt on the spot with just how forward he was! It took everything in you not to swoon at his feet with each gift and memorable outing you shared.

“Hey, Doll? Ya’ go deaf, or somethin’?”

Blinking, you snapped out of your trance and wiped a subtle line of drool from your face as blush dusted your cheeks. Hugo narrowed his eyes at you with his hands on his hips as you pulled yourself back into reality.

“Sorry about that, sir. I was just thinking...” you smiled apologetically up at your supervisor, and you try not to tune him out as he starts rambling yet again. When will Alastor’s evening podcast begin, again?

“Uh-huh. Probably thinkin’ about your lil’ boy-toy in the next room over. Speakin’ a' Al’, I forgot to tell you that he’s workin’ overtime tonight. Told me to let ya’ know,” the blonde mentioned nonchalantly, startling you out of your daydreaming trance yet again.

“H-He’s working overtime now?”

Hugo groaned with exasperation. “Stars, Dollface, are ya’ gettin’ amnesic on me, now? Yeah, I was just tellin’ ya’, Al’s hours extended a bit. His request,” he shrugged, unaware of how you deflated in your office chair. You were really looking forward to your evening walk home with Alastor.

“Well, did he say why?”

Hugo shook his head. “Nope, didn’t mention a thing. But I can walk ya’ home, if ya'd like,” he offered with a bright, innocent smile, which brought your usual guard down, despite the risks. You’d always had a soft spot for the spiffing, young producer, since you’d always seen him as a little brother despite being your superior. It didn’t help that he acted like one, too.

And besides, Alastor would only give himself later hours if he thought about you in advance, wouldn’t he? He'd probably put Hugo up to the task of walking you home, the considerate sweetheart.

It wasn’t like you had any other choice, so with a soft smile, you nodded. “Sure! When do you leave?”

“Eh... Around five-thirty, on weekdays. Just thirty minutes after you leave, right?”

With a nod and a smile, you waved Hugo off. “Sure is. Now, get back to work, you! I have scripts that need editing.” He rolled his eyes as you scolded and dismissed him and made himself busy around the radio station.

Once the brilliant, baby blue sky had slowly begun to fade into a reflective navy with nary a star yet in sight, your workday had finally ended, and you were finally free to go.

With a relieved sigh and a stretch of your knuckles, you grabbed your bearings and met Hugo by the front door as a few people had begun filing out of the station. You supposed some others were working late, as well, since some of the usual faces weren’t racing home from work like you and Alastor.

A sudden reminder of your usual stroll buddy made you turn to Hugo hopefully. “Oh, Hugo, can I say goodbye to Alastor? I’ll be quick, I promise!”

Hugo chuckled and shook his head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Doll. Al’ said he'd needed to be alone for a while at the end of the workday and told me to just get ya’ home.”

He raised an eyebrow down at your disappointed frown, and he was reminded of how it seemed you two couldn’t seem to spend an hour apart, let alone an entire day.

Throughout the day, Alastor had asked at least a dozen times if he could take a small break simply to spend time with you, but Hugo didn’t need you two love birds distracting each other, not since he caught the both of you spending your lunch break together in Alastor’s recording booth.

You had both spent twenty minutes past your break simply to chat and nuzzle noses together like a couple of awkward teenagers under the bleachers, until Hugo found you, though he teased the daylights out of you, rather than reprimand you. He knew better than to step on the toes of Al’s girl.

Jeez, these kids are hopeless, ain’t they?

“C’mon, now, don’t look so glum,” Hugo tried to be comforting as he put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that Al' misses you just as much as you miss ‘im, so don’t get ya’self down.” He smiled down at you as you perked up.

“You think?” You peeked up at Hugo as he walked you out the door and onto the sidewalk with an arm slung over your shoulder.

“Got ya’ interest now, don’t I?” The blonde teased with a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows, making you groan. “So, how’s it been down in good ol’ Lover’s Lane~?”

“I’ve already told you, Hugo, it isn’t like that!”

“Uh-huh, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

“Well, that monkey won’t have an uncle if you don’t drop this!”

The walk home consisted of your teasing and playful back-and-forth as the sky darkened further, and the glow of a few streetlamps had been left as the only light source illuminating your path.

Suddenly, you halted right in front of the diner you and Alastor had tried from a few weeks ago, and Hugo stopped with you.

“Uh... Ya’ sure this is the place, Doll?”He looked around for a moment, surveying the complete lack of civilization around you, just a snug little diner tucked into acres of forest, and far from the city.

You shook your head up at Hugo. “Nope, I’m justpickin' up dinner for Al' and I."

“Aw, what a Doll. Alasta' should count 'imself lucky to find a lady like you,” he ruffled your hair with a grin, and you rolled your eyes and fixed your now ridiculous-looking locks.

“Alright, so, I’ll drop ya’ off here, but you gotta promise ya’ won’t get kidnapped, or somethin’?” You rolled your eyes up at him with a fond grin before fixing up Hugo’s hair with a flair of your own and met his playful gaze.

“I’ll be fine, Hugo. Thank you for walking me home. Now go on, get out of here," you batted at him playfully as he walked off into the night, laughter echoing off the sidewalks stretching past the lone diner.

“Take care of ya’self, Doll, for my sake?” Hugo called back as you waved.

“I will!"

Once he had left, you headed into the quaint restaurant, smiling at the new receptionist as you made your way down the aisle.

“Hiya! Can I get two bowls of jambalaya? To-go, please!”

. . .

The soft crackle of the fire and the mellow turning of pages filled the deafening silence in the living room of Alastor’s mansion, the peaceful atmosphere heavily veiling the inner worry that conjured up a whirlwind of a headache as you tried to focus on the book in your hands.

It was a romance that you were in the middle of reading, though it was surprising to find such a rarity in Alastor’s library, since much of his selection consisted of thrillers and horror. Though this book was no different, you supposed, since it consisted of a healthy amount of gore sprinkled in between scenes.

You had re-read the same sentence at least five times, before looking over to the grandfather clock sitting snugly next to the mantel. Your hourly disappointment had flickered into irritation with each glance you took at the old thing.

The smaller hand that seemed to slowly tick by had decided to pick that evening to speed up its journey against the clock’s marble face as the hours passed, and your worry grew.

It was now nearly midnight, and you were just about ready to start leading a torch-wielding brigade out into the forest to search for Alastor, when a knock jolted you out of your seat.

There’s only one man who’d stray out this far at this audacious hour...

You look past the kitchen to the front door and crept up to it as hopefulness and irritation conflicted with one another in your chest.

You opened the door with a sigh of relief as Alastor’s frame towered over you with his familiar smile, though you didn’t miss how it twitched slightly at the tips.

You watched him with a concerned gaze as he stepped inside.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, my dear! Truly, I apologize, but I had to take care of a few things,” You wanted to slap Alastor for worrying you to the brink of re-reading the same mushy paragraph for an hour and being so dismissive about his disappearing act when he finally returned, but you were too concerned about his well-being to let your anger fully boil over.

“Welcome home, Al’,” you hesitated for a moment, watching as he sped into the kitchen with purpose, clearly adamant on making you dinner in the middle of the night.

“Are you... Alright?” You raised an uncertain eyebrow as he started rummaging through the cabinets, either unresponsive or flat-out ignoring you as you stood awkwardly in the doorway.

With a hesitant step forward and a reluctant sigh, you placed your hand on Alastor’s shoulder and tried not to flinch away as he whirls toward you with wild eyes.

“Hm? Is there something that you need, my dear?” Alastor inwardly cringed at how relentlessly cheerful he sounded, like an overworked mascot at a run-down theme park.

You give the man a once-over, glaring at him, unimpressed as you noted how disheveled he looked. “Alright, what’s going on?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

You pinched your nose bridge with an exhausted sigh. He really didn’t want to be easy about this, did he? Alright, then. Time to be the bad cop.

“First, you come back home at an ungodly hour, looking like you’ve taken a tumble with a rabid racoon and lost,” Alastor rolled his eyes at that comment, “Second, you’re running around the kitchen the way you do whenever something’s bothered you. And you know that you can tell me if something’s bothering you,” your eyes soften towards him as you reach up and unclip his bow, and Alastor’s eyes follow your delicate, soft hands as you place it on the counter and smooth out his the front of his rumpled dress shirt.

“Look... I don’t know what’s going on, or what’s bothering you, or why the hell you came back so late, but...” your concerned gaze trailed up his form, and Alastor nearly shrunk like a raisin under your scrutinization.

“But you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“Anything?” Alastor pressed, his foolish heart answering the call for him as your voice grew hopeful, begging him to open up to you.

“Yes, anything. I mean it, Alastor.”

A silent moment fell between the both of you, one in which you felt as if all the tension in the world had suddenly been sucked into the kitchen, tightening the air as you held your breath and waited for Alastor to say the word, to tell you whatever was going on.

No matter how gruesome his actions, no matter the cost, you’d stay by his side. You’d bury the body and wipe the fingerprints; you'd dispose of the witnesses and give the police station false tips. Anything to keep Alastor safe. Anything to keep him by your side.

And Lord knows that you’d let the man get away with murder...

You can only sigh dejectedly as he gives his answer with apologetic eyes. “I’m afraid not, my dear. Besides,” he rubbed your shoulders soothingly. “I can get along just fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head over me.”

Alastor, goddamn him, had flashed the most heart-warming, knee-buckling smile down at you, genuine and unwavering, and nearly all of your resolve evaporated in an instant. How funny, how you both had such an effect on one another without the other noticing.

Alastor nearly cracked under your gentle touch, and that word, that ‘anything’ had begged him to prod you. Test the limits of your loyalty, of your attraction to him.

And Alastor was sure he wouldn't be disappointed.

But Alastor’s head, the instincts of a predator, the mind of a realist, had grounded him down to earth. The radio host knew better than anyone not to mix business with pleasure, and that involving you would risk your finding out about his line of work, and his... tendencies.

You sighed, your grip tightening on the counter before stepping back. Alastor never pried into your life, and it wasn’t your business to force him into telling you anything. “Alright... If you say so. But I’m always here, Alastor.”

A hesitant hand carefully inches towards his, and a soft gasp of surprise leaves your lips as Alastor’s hand comes to encompass yours with a squeeze.

“I know, my dear. And aren’t you just a sweetheart for looking out for me~?” You couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed with him as he tucked a hair behind your ear and fluffed up your hair, before stepping away towards the stove.

“Now, if you’ll allow me, I’m afraid that dinner is quite overdue.”

“About that, I’ve already gotten a little somethin’ for the both of us, so you don’t need to worry,” Alastor raised an eyebrow, a strong wave of déjà vu hitting him as you pushed him out of the kitchen, before pulling out the two bowls of jambalaya you'd gotten from the diner.

You’d warmed it up quite nicely, and though the meal was delicious, it couldn’t have even compared to the wonderful dish you’d made Alastor your first night sleeping at the manor, as he’d remarked several times during dinner, reveling in your flustered blush at the endless stream of praise.

After you’d both had your fill, and Alastor finished washing the dishes, you both started to head up to bed, and you tugged on his sleeve with a serious look.

“Please, please try to get a good night’s rest, Alastor,” he chuckled softly down at you, as if your concern was completely unbased, but you didn't laugh, clearly adamant about him taking better care of himself.

What a good little wife you’d make, taking care of him, cleaning up the house for his arrival, editing his scripts and making him dinner, though Alastor hated the thought of you having to lift a single finger in his stead.

Alastor filed those thoughts away for later as he smiled gently and cupped your cheek with his hand as he bent down to your level, his pointed nose nearly brushing against yours. “I promise, darling. I won’t worry you anymore,” before a scarlet blush could fully race across your cheeks, Alastor abruptly stood and patted your head with a grin. “Now, off to bed with you. I’d feel simply terrible if you lost sleep over me.”

Huffing in disbelief, you ignored the burn flaring against your cheeks as you turned on your heel with your nose in the air. “You’re lucky I care for you, so much...”

You grumbled all the way back to your room, though you cast another weary glance at Alastor as he retired for the night into his own bedroom.

His prominent slump in the way he walked, the slight limp in his footsteps, it all seemed so obvious to you that something was horribly wrong. But if he wouldn’t open up to you about it, you couldn’t do anything but watch your friend suffer, and you hated that.

Still, there was nothing you could do but lose shut eye as you fret over Alastor most of the night, tossing and turning as you struggled to get sleep while wondering what in the world Alastor was doing, creeping around in the dead of night, and wondering what had happened to him.

Honest to God, Al’, if you give me one more reason to care about you...

. . .

Unfortunately, despite your pleads and Alastor’s poorly kept promise, the evenings that followed had spiraled into a concerning routine for the radio host.

You could only watch with worry that slowly burned into frustration as Alastor would arrive home during near midnight, start dinner, – but eat in his own room, which pleased neither of you – and leave you downstairs with a tired goodnight, and rinse and repeat.

The mornings hadn’t fared much better, either. Instead of Alastor taking your elbow in his, humming a little tune as he walked the both of you to work, he’d wake up at a baffling five in the morning and leave you with a quick spot of breakfast and some money for the bus fare.

It was an endearing thought that showed Alastor still thought of you, but it did nothing to shake your concern for him.

Upon the fifth night of this draining charade, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out by the bunches. f*ck respecting Alastor’s boundaries, you couldn't watch him destroy himself anymore.

You had very thoroughly planned to corner him about this, but while waiting for Alastor’s return on the couch, the hour was so late that you had fallen asleep beside the fireplace.

It was only in the very dead of night that you were startled out of your uncomfortable place on the cushions by the click of the front door, and you looked over to the clock to see it was two in the morning.

About goddamn time.

Somehow, Alastor knew you were downstairs as soon as he entered the house, and didn’t flinch, jump, or even blink as you magically appeared in front of him, glaring up at him with ire. Or perhaps he really was just that exhausted.

“Hello, darling.”

God, he just looked so tired, so done with whatever was getting him down that it nearly broke you down. You hated seeing Alastor like this, drained and sapped of all his usual, passionate energy that had once drawn you in for so long.

“We need to talk. Now.”

You didn’t even wait for his response as you gently took his hand and led him into the living room, the ticking of the grandfather clock and the short, frustrated breaths you exhaled filling the tense air between you.

You forced yourself to be stern with Alastor as you sat across from him with your legs crossed and arms folded as your sharpened gaze scrutinized him.

Rubbing your forehead, you sighed and muttered into the awkward air, “Okay, I think it’s time that we’ve talked about your work hours.”

You rolled your eyes as he started with his usual excuses.

“I’ve told you, I’m doing just fine, darling. I promise, I'm still eating, and I'm just dealing with a few things-" you cut him off with a hand in the air, before leaning over and taking his hands in yours, trying at a less confrontational approach.

“But why? Why work yourself to the bone like this? What could possibly be stressing you out so much, and for so long? Alastor...”

Said radio host sighed softly, unable to meet your pleading eyes. Alastor truly couldn’t answer your inquiries, no matter how much you begged him.

He’d lose everything if he told you half of what went down behind closed doors, when the rest of society wasn’t paying attention to him.

Perhaps someday... But not now. The time just isn’t right.

“I... I admit, I haven’t been as attentive to you as I should’ve been. I apologize, truly.” Alastor’s fingers grasped yours as he stared into the wood carvings of the table legs. “I just don’t want you to worry over me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

"No, that isn't... Please, Al', just... Let me help you this time,” you sniffled and brought his chin up to meet your eyes that were on the verge of tears, and Alastor knew he couldn’t say no. Goddamn him if he ever let you cry because of his actions.

“Alright... You win, my dear,” he complies, albeit reluctantly, but the sheer joy that coursed through you was too alleviating for you to notice Alastor’s defeated posture as you literally jumped over the table to hug him.

“Good. Don't you scare me like that ever again, you."

You squeezed his midsection into an embrace, and it was then Alastor noted how comically short you were compared to him.

"I promise, ma chère."

He pet you with a chuckle, his other hand coming around to rub your shoulderas his mind was already racing back to the radio station, and your new arrangement.

"What does that mean?" You looked up at him from where you were, and Alastor simply shook his head and ran his hand through your hair.

"Nothing you should worry yourself over, darling. Now, I believe the matter at hand calls for a discussion," you blinked as he stood up and twirled you around, enjoying your delighted stream of giggles.

"Now, we should discuss the matter at hand," he pulled you into his chest with revived energy and you landed with a soft 'omph!'

"I believe that you, choosing to... Help me out, as it were," you raised an eyebrow as Alastor practically choked it out.

"Should imply that you are willing to become my assistant?" He raised an eyebrow down at you as your eyes widened with delight.

"Oh, yes! That'll be perfect!" You pulled closer to him with stars in your eyes, and Alastor's smile - not strained, nor exhausted of all energy, a real, genuine smile from him - grew as you beamed up at him.

“Don’t get too excited, now. Being my assistant is no easy task.”

You shook your head, grounded in your idea. “It’ll be worth it, if it helps you.”

“If you say so," Alastor grinned down at you. There it was, that relentless need to please him and care for him the way he did for you. Doing good brought its own rewards, he supposed. "But this will only work if Hugo allows it, you know.”

“Oh, boo! He’ll go with anything I ask of him. Worst-case scenario, he’ll tease me until the cows come home,” you pulled away from Alastor and crossed your arms, unaware of how he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"I suppose that's a given... Though, I think he'll be just fine without you. The only real change will be your working area," you brightened at the prospect of being able to spend time with Alastor in his own work area, just the two of you, alone, and for the entire day.

"Then again, I’m not particularly fond of the idea of you running about the streets, running my errands for me...”

You shrug. “I’ll be fine! I didn’t manage to get kidnapped when I got you dinner that one time, so I’m sure I can handle myself,” you waved him off with a dismissive hand, and Alastor’s eyebrow raised.

“And wherever did you get our dinner from the other night, dearest?”

You flushed at the nickname and muttered, “Oh, just the diner across the road...”

“And what have I told you about wandering off, without me by your side?”

“It was one time! And I survived, so I’ll be alright! Just trust me,” you took his hands with pleading eyes. “Just have a little more faith in me? Please?”

“Oh, my pretty little assistant... What shall I ever do with you~?” Alastor curled a hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, enjoying the rapid thumping of his heart as pure contentment consumed him from the feeling of your skin against his.

He grinned down at you as you groaned and buried your face into a pillow, the smug bastard.

Though the gentlemanlyof him was absolutely appalled at the idea of you lifting a finger to help him, Alastor figured that perhaps having a little helper around to deal with the less... gruesome aspects of his line of work could be fruitful.

He’d get his job done faster, and you’d be even closer to him than ever before.

And he’d have his shadows to send to your side to keep an extra eye on you, and he’d be there in a flash to come to your aid. Plus, this would be a delicious opportunity to indulge in his little assistant fantasies that had been consuming him as of late.

It would be all the more easier to woo you when you were so close to him, wouldn’t it?

“Now, darling, for you to become my fully-fledged assistant, we’ll need to make a few... adjustments.”

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ok, so I am about to drop some Alastor-based BANGERS next chapter. I'm trying to focus more on the plot for now, so expect more development in the story later.

But first, let's all take a break from the beloved deer man and give Vox some love (totally not biased in any way whatsoever) because I've been starving everyone in Vox Nation 😭 So I gotta leave ya'll hanging for now.

See you next time!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie

The Bad Batch discovering you stayed loyal to Empire HCs

2.7k words !

The jungle is coloured in hues of silver, the overhead canopy filtering in just enough moonlight to see. Despite hearing the Marauder flying above, he can’t see the ship yet and thus, the chase is still on.

Branches crack under his heavy boots. Vines sway as he sprints past them. He can feel his lungs burn but he ignores it, urging his body onwards.

He knows you're closing in. Well, he doesn’t know you are… whenever he manages to glance behind as he runs, all the clone sees is the new assassin sent by the Empire gaining on him.

He follows the instructions that are hurriedly given through his comm. “Just another few metres and there’s a clearing, we’ll get you there!” his brother’s voice assures him. It doesn’t seem like a difficult task but as he stumbles out onto the clearing and realises it’s a cliff edge, things become interesting.

You know better than to run straight out after him and instead opt to stay close to the tree line. As the Marauder hovers closer to him, a sigh escapes your lips.

Maybe you won’t be able to capture him this time but as he looks back at you, you decideto take off your helmet and show him exactly who this new assassin is...

HUNTER

Hunter thought the Empire couldn’t hurt him anymore. But here you are. He presumed he lost you a long time ago but now you’re standing in front of him, a slight scowl darkening your face as you stand your ground.

For a moment, Hunter forgets that he’s just a few feet away from escaping this close encounter. All of his thoughts are consumed by you. How are you still alive? And why are you working for the Empire?!

He says your name in a mere whisper, the engines of the ship behind him easily drowning out his words. But you don’t need to hear his words to know how Hunter feels.

There is a look of misery and regret in Hunter’s eyes, a sad acceptance of things that could have gone a different way.

You know this is your chance. He’s completely vulnerable, shock distracting him from his hypervigilant senses. If you wanted to take the shot, this was your chance… but you don’t. Instead you simply stare, a feeling you thought you long buried rising within you.

If this happened when the Batch first strayed from the Empire, before they truly knew the cruel dictatorship they were up against, Hunter would have offered you his hand and tried his best to convince you to come with them.

But now? This far into the tyranny of the Empire? It’s a painful realisation but Hunter knows you’ve already chosen a side. He’s already been through the turmoil of this with Crosshair, he can’t go through that again just for you to reject his help.

Hunter knows that leaving the Empire has to be a decision you make. Not him.

And so Hunter makes his escape, grabbing onto the rope Wrecker has thrown down for him. He knows this won’t be the last time you two meet, and he knows you’re letting him go on purpose.

Hunter knows you too well and he knows that you could have fought harder if you wanted to.

Slowly watching as you turn back and retreat into the darkness of the jungle, Hunter sighs, hoping that maybe the you he knows and lov-… *ahem*, the you he knows is still in there somewhere, deep deep down.

WRECKER

Wrecker smiles when he spots you but that quickly turns to shock and sadness. Looking back at the others on the ship, Wrecker gives them a confused look that reads ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?!’. Wrecker is every emotion.

After all this time apart, you’re right in front of him and yet you’re not. Wrecker’s smile slowly dims, his initial joy slowly fading as he comes to the realisation that it was you chasing him through the jungle so ferociously.

Wrecker’s face grows sullen. How has it come to this? He doesn’t understand but he knows this isn’t you. It can’t be! You must’ve gone through the same treatment as Crosshair or maybe they have something they’re using against you.

He refuses to believe you’re doing this because you want to and so against his better judgement, Wrecker ignores the shouts of his brothers to retreat and heads straight for you.

With renewed determination, Wrecker manages to dodge a few of your attacks. He tries to disarm you without actually hurting you.

He can’t just leave you here, not when you’re like this and in the Empire’s grasp. Wrecker would never forgive himself if he leaves without you.

Despite having trained with you in the past, this is a completely different experience. This isn’t sparring. This is a fight. You slash your blade through the air each time he nears you, Wrecker moving as swiftly as he can. You’re like a wild animal being cornered, your eyes darting around as you try to maintain the upper hand.

The Marauder lowers to the ground as Hunter and Crosshair jump out, ready to help their brother (and to also make sure Wrecker doesn’t get himself killed).

With their help, Wrecker manages to disarm you... and he may have accidentally knocked you unconscious too. He swears he didn’t mean to put you in a headlock that tight! But honestly, it’s probably a happy accident that’ll make this a lot easier.

Even though the others are dubious about having you on the ship, Wrecker is adamant that they have to help you and make you see what the Empire truly is. You would have done the same for any of them and so it’s only right that they help you now.

With AZI scanning you for any serious injuries (or microchips), Wrecker sits beside you and patiently waits for you to awake, his head hanging low as he tries to come to terms with this new revelation.

ECHO

Seeing you again is like defeating impossible odds and it makes Echo come to a sudden realisation. The moment is an unexpected one, yet somehow deeply familiar.

Echo wonders if this is how Rex felt when he realised Echo was still alive and on Skako Minor.

He wants to reach out to you, to offer you his hand... but he doesn’t. Instead, Echo hesitates. The powerful urge to act on his impulse lingers for a moment before rational thinking catches up to his heart and he stops himself.

He can’t help it as his concern grows for you. The unfortunate thing is, Echo knows that you might not even want his help. Maybe it’s too late and Echo wouldn’t be able to sway you from your stance in all of this.

Echo is still plagued by how he was forced to help the Separatist forces during the war and so much of the concern he feels for you stems from his dreary past.

Slowly taking a few steps in your direction, Echo approaches you with caution. He’s careful to maintain a constant vigilance over your hands and movements, being aware of how quickly this could go wrong. He tries to ask why you’re with the Empire, if you’re aware of what they’re doing to the clones.

Echo knows that you care about the clones, or that at least you did at some point. Even if your beliefs have changed, he’s confident you would never stand for what the Empire is doing to his brothers. If he can just get you to hear him out, then he’s certain you can both get to some sort of an understanding.

The last thing Echo wants to do is argue, especially with how high tensions are. Echo knows you. Of course he does. You two have been through so much. And so he knows that all he needs to do is fill you in on the mistreatment of the clones and you’ll turn your back on the Empire… right?

Despite the fact that you were just chasing him, Echo doesn't want this to be a “you vs him” sort of thing. If you listen to him and open your eyes to what the Empire truly is, then Echo can assure you that with some time, you can be brought into the fold of the rebellion. This isn’t the end and he assures you that any trust that may have faltered can be restored.

Of course Echo wants you to join them immediately, hence why he initially went to offer you his hand. But for that to actually happen, he needs to see some sort of cooperation from you, whether that be a plea for help, you lowering your weapons to the ground or simply engaging in conversation when he informs you about the clones.

If you choose to go with them, Echo would call for some back up from the ship, reassuring you as Hunter and Wrecker join him. It’s only a precaution in case some kind of sleeper agent training activates. It’s going to take a while for them to trust you again so be prepared for a lot of “precautions”.

But if you choose to stay with the Empire? Well, at least Echo knows he tried.

TECH

Tech should have seen this coming. The Empire’s latest play of deploying assassins to hunt them down has resulted in an essential need for stealth.

Not only is that one of your strong suits but your great track record and prior relationship with the Batch makes you the perfect candidate to locate and eliminate them. In hindsight, Tech feels as though you were the obvious choice.

Tech contemplates holding his ground against you but with the Marauder so close, he realises that retreating is the most logical option. He is mindful of his movements, slowly taking steps backwards as to not startle you or trigger you into action.

After hearing about how the Empire’s harsh ways of conditioning people, Tech is aware that whatever they may have subjected you to may have drastically changed you. The likelihood that you might not be the you Tech once knew is unfortunately high.

Tech's mindset is one of caution and pragmatism, balancing the risks and benefits of each option. So while he would ideally want you to lay down your weapons and come with them peacefully, he needs to think about his brother’s and Omega’s safety; something that could be jeopardised further if you joined them.

Not only would you joining them cause potential problems for them, but Tech is conscious of how that would endanger you too.

What if you’re chipped with a tracker? Would the Empire be able to track you down easily, and thus them too? He refuses to make such an impulsive decision and ask you to come with them.

In an ideal world, this would never happen. You would never be with the Empire. But here you are, and this is something Tech isn’t going to dismiss simply because he thought you were a close ally back in the day.

Once Tech is sure he’s close enough to the ship, he swiftly boards the platform. You watch the ship slowly rise higher and higher, the look on your face one that Tech is unable to read.

Before he loses sight of you, Tech gives you a simple nod. It’s not a nod of respect - how can it be when you’re doing the Empire’s dirty work?! - but it is one of recognition. Recognition of what was once between you both as well as the familiarity of an old pawn of the Republic seeing a new pawn of the Empire.

He needs to think, to analyse this new development. Tech remains calm as the Marauder soars away from you and through hyperspace. The others all speak over each other at this new development but Tech is quiet.

Right now, his main concern is to come up with potential ways of meeting you again in hopefully less hostile circ*mstances and to find out what exactly is going on.

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair wishes this was a surprise to him. But honestly? You and him were always close, having a deeper understanding of each other than most. And so if the Empire was able to keep him for so long then he unfortunately sees how they’ve been able to keep their grasp on you too.

He takes a moment to analyse your stillness. You’re simply standing there, watching; as if you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

Despite the scowl on your face, Crosshair acknowledges that you haven’t moved for your blaster yet. Perhaps you’re conflicted?

You took off your helmet for a reason. You wanted him to know that it’s you. For Crosshair, that’s enough to deduce that maybe you’re doubting the Empire and the mission they’ve given you.

If there’s anyone who can sympathise with your predicament, it’s Crosshair. And while he doesn’t know all the facts or why you’re here, he knows first hand how the Empire has basically drilled it into people’s heads that they’re the good guys and so he can’t blame you for carrying those beliefs.

Crosshair has heard this plea before. He’s heard it countless times but that was when his brothers were the ones trying to convince him to abandon the Empire. But now he’s on the opposite side and trying to persuade you to leave the Empire.

He opens his hands, almost as if surrendering but in reality he just wants to show you he’s not reaching for a weapon either. All he wants to do is talk and to make sure you’re aware that just because you’re on opposite sides doesn’t mean you’re necessarily enemies.

Unfortunately this is the part that Crosshair is bad at. Talking. Reasoning. Not being sarcastic or saying a snide comment. He isn’t as compassionate as Hunter, nor can he find the right words like Echo usually can in situations like this.

“I thought you were too smart to fall for the Empire’s lies,” Crosshair can practically hear Omega sigh in the Marauder at his choice of words but it’s how he’s always talked to you. Neither of you have ever minced your words before. Clearing his throat, he tries again, keeping his words genuine and making sure you know he wants to help.

Even if you’re receptive to his truce, Crosshair is hesitant to bring you with them. Not because you may be conditioned to bend to the Empire’s every whim but because he fears what they may do to you if they realise you've went AWOL. Crosshair knows exactly what it’s like to get on the bad side of the Empire and it’s something he would never wish on you.

Whatever your decision is, Crosshair respects it. He won’t pester you to change your mind.

Crosshair still believes in you and whatever it is you decide to do, he’ll trust. Whether you’re on opposite sides of the galaxy, a war, or a game of Dejarik, Crosshair will always have trust in you.

I Wish I Knew

Genre : ANGST, Slow-Burn, Unrequited love, SFW,Romance.

Status: Oneshot-Completed

Parings : Neteyam X Reader,

Warnings: Sad Neteyam, Unrequited love, Mutual Pinning, Mentions of blood/bullets, Mentions of alcohol and consumption (Please be advised), Panic attacks.

Inspired by; Bad Habit by Steve Lacy

Summary: Neteyam and Y/n have been joined at the hip since they were children. Growing feelings for one another was inevitable due to their close proximity. But Neteyam always suppressed his feelings in fear of losing his friendship with her. But as they grow into adults he can’t help but wonder, had he missed his chance?

Word count: 5.9k

———————————————————————

“How did you find me?” Neteyam asks, his eyes strained forward. He didn’t bother turning to face her as she set herself down. Her feet mirrored his as she dangled them over the edge of the cliff.

Neteyam knew it was her, he didn’t have to look to confirm who it was. He knew the moment she softly landed her Ikran, the coo of the creature he knew by heart because that always signaled her arrival. Her scent wafted through the light breeze as the air caused his body to freeze up. It was a scent he memorized. Because it smelt like her, because it was her.

“Call it intuition?” She chuckles softly, the breeze picking up in the slightest. Her braided locks clacking against one another, the sound of the beads crashing caused Neteyam to quickly glance her way.

Y/n peered up into the sky, the stars mirrored amongst her e/c irises beautifully. Neteyam stopped himself from getting lost in them, which he caught himself doing often. It was weird considering she was his dearest friend, his oldest friend. He just couldn't help the fluttery feeling that consumed him whenever she was near. He didn't know when it started, but as he grew, so did his feelings.

Neteyam and Y/n grew up joined at the hip, even though she was younger by one year the girl never hesitated to follow Neteyam to his duties. Always marveling at how he slowly but surely became such a great warrior, outranking all in his age group. Neteyam also adored her, he respected how she tried to become a warrior herself. Even though she fell short many times, it never deterred her from her goal. That same goofy smile plastered on her face even when her body was littered with bruises.

Neteyam thought of her as a distraction at one point, but as they both grew up he realized how much he needed her support. Someone to talk to, someone to pour all his raw emotion on. And Y/n was always eager, her shoulders waiting for him to lean on as the days of stress pulled him down. It was as if she always knew how and what he was feeling.

“What did he do this time?” Y/n whispers softly.

Neteyam’s ears twitch to the sound of her voice, laced with concern and question. Neteyam had once again been on the receiving end of his fathers words. He was tasked to help Lo’ak with his tracking skills, but that skxawng decided to run mid session, almost getting eaten by a threatened mother Pululukan. Neteyam had barely made it in time to save Lo’ak as well as himself. The array of leaves covered in ointment scattered all over his body proved that it was indeed a close call.

“He almost got eaten by a mother Pululukan” he replies solemnly.

He catches the way Y/n’s eyes scrunch together at the mental image. Her brows furrowing together, her lips forming into a frown.

“Let me guess, you took the blame?” Y/n asks, more like declares.

She knew Neteyam like the back of her hand. Of course he took the blame from his brother, always has and always will. It’s just that each time he did, he never could recover the pieces that Jake tore apart upon each lecture. That’s where Y/n came in, always ready to piece him back together.

“You shouldn’t protect him all the time. He’s 15 Neteyam, he has to realize the stunts he pulls have consequences” Y/n says, her body turning to face him. Neteyam averts his eyes, not wanting her to catch his gaze that was already lingering on her.

“It’s my job, I’m the eldest son. If I don’t watch over my siblings, who will?” Neteyam replies back, refusing to look her in the eyes. Y/n sighs out in defeat. She knew how much Nteeyam loved and cared for his siblings, she felt the same way being the only child. That's why she stuck to the family like glue. As if they were a second family.

“Then who will have your back?” She asks, her voice laced with concern. Neteyam finds his lips twitching at her words. She never failed to surprise him with her caring nature. It was astonishing to the young warrior that someone like her, who was so kind and nurturing, was also a warrior. Someone that equaled his skills at times.

He turns around to face her, locking eyes. He felt his breath hitch at their close proximity, how her eyes shone under the moonlight with such allure. He felt like he was being sucked in, and he didn’t feel it within himself to deny the feeling.

“I was hoping you would” a smile twitches along his lips.

Y/n let’s out a giggle, her eyes filling with a twinkle which left Neteyam starstruck. Oh how beautiful she looked under the moonlight, it had to be a sin.

“I thought that was a given” she teases, playfully nudging her shoulder against his. The feeling sent a jolt of electricity through his body, causing a pleasurable shiver to run along his spine. It was moments like these that made him feel alive, that made him feel sane. So much stress has been put upon him since birth, all washing away with a mere smile.

“Just making sure” Neteyam easily replies back, opting to lean against her shoulder. Something they did often when they sought each other for comfort. Y/n hums happily, leaning her weight against his. She rests her head against him, breathing in the night sky.

“You are obligated to take care of your siblings Neteyam. That I respect. Just….take care of yourself too, ok?” Y/n suggests softly. Neteyam lets out a sigh, nodding his head, agreeing with her words. Seeming satisfied by his non verbal response Y/n smiles wide.

“And I’ll always be here for you Neteyam. I’ll never leave your side. You are my best friend after all” she teases her eyes locking onto the moon, oh how majestic it looked.

Neteyam thickly swallows the lump in his throat. At that moment the feeling of serenity left him. He enjoyed his moments with Y/n. Over the years it seems as though these particular moments held all his happiness. It felt great when he was naïve to his feelings.

At first he was confused as to what the quicken heartbeats meant when he would stare into her eyes. He questioned the butterflies in his stomach, and an unfamiliar fluttery feeling whenever she gazed at him.

It took him a while, but once he realized what he was feeling, it was already too late. The feeling had grown without his knowledge. What was once a simple crush grew to infatuation. He felt cursed, cursed to loving his friend who didn’t love him the same way. The unconditional love that seemed to grow year by year.

~~~~~~

“Shhh, don’t speak!” Kiri shushs, crouching down near the tent. The close call with the RDA left quite an impact with the Sully children and Y/n. After Y/n had decided to accompany Lo’ak and Spider on their adventure, all so she could keep a watchful eye on Tuk. They got caught by the RDA. Y/n desperately held Tuk within her grasp all while her tswin was harshly being held against her.

The moment Neteyam heard Y/n’s name over the com an unexplainable dread came over his form. They had his siblings, they had Y/n. What if he was late? What if he couldn’t save her in time? As he quickly showed his parents the quicker way he was determined to find her. He was determined to ensure her safety.

Neteyam didn’t have to think twice about going against his fathers orders and got involved right away. Because he knew, if it were the other way around, Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to disobey orders from her leader to save his siblings, himself included.

The relief that flooded Neteyam’s system was like waves after waves as he realized everyone was safe and unscathed. He pulled Y/n tightly against him, relishing in her heat as she shook under his hold. Sobs racking her body in full force. She was terrified by what had transpired and Neteyam felt useless being unable to console her.

As the siblings and Y/n eavesdrop on the parents' conversations, Neteyam keeps a firm grasp of Y/n’s hand. Ever since the incident Y/n has been desperately latching into him. Her fear is getting the best of her. Neteyam felt horrible for what she went through, but loved the feeling of her needing him, wanting to hold him.

“He had our children. He had them under his knife!” Jake hisses.

Y/n audibly gulps. Was he actually suggesting they leave? Flee the clan? Y/n felt her heart drop to her stomach with a sickening feeling. They would leave her, her second family would leave her here alone for their own safety. And Y/n couldn’t do anything about it. She wanted them safe more than anything, but the fear of them leaving caused her to choke up with unbridled sadness.

Feeling her eyes sting with tears Y/n pushes herself into Neteyam’s embrace. He was shocked at first but welcomed it. Would this be the last time he held her? Feel her pressed up against him like this? He would wake up every day not seeing her face? Neteyam’s throat closes up at the thought, letting Y/n nuzzle into the crevice of his neck. He wraps one hand around her for support as he bites lips furiously. He couldn’t cry, as much as he wanted to. He is a warrior after all. He had to stay strong.

“What about Y/n? She was protecting Tuk, they know she is close to the family. They will hunt her down Ma’Jake” Neytiri cries in fear.

Both Neteyam and Y/n freeze up at her words. Lo’ak and Kiri glance at the duo, horror stricken as well. It was true, Y/n tried her best to cover Tuk during the entire altercation. They didn’t bother inspecting her hands while they were focused on Lo’ak and Kiri. But her involvement meant they knew her. And where to find her.

“I’ll speak to her parents. It’s not safe for her here” Jake says, causing Y/n to gasp in shock. She covers her mouth before looking at each Sully. Confirming what she heard was true. He was suggesting she go with them.

Feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion Y/n abruptly stands up, before sprinting towards her tent. Neteyam moves to follow her but Kiri stops him midstep. Her expression of worry for her friend.

“Give her some space, brother”

~~~~~~~~~

“How did you find me?” Y/n asks softly, her back facing Neteyam as he took tentative steps towards her. He purposely made sure his steps were heard, he didn’t want to startle her after all they’ve been through the past few days. If he wanted to go unnoticed, he would have succeeded. He was very silent with his footing.

“Call is intuition?” Neteyam lightly teases, taking a seat beside her. His shoulders slide against her, feeling her body cold against him. Neteyam flinches upon contact. How long had she been out here?

“Eywa Y/n, you’re freezing. How long have you been out here?” He questions his eyes trained in her. She turns her head to face him, her puffy cheeks covered with the stains of her tears she had shed a while ago. She sighs out, shrugging her shoulders in response. Neteyam frowns, he felt sick to his stomach seeing her like this.

The past two days have been utter hell for him. After Jake declared the decision to the family he went on about how Tarsem would be the next Olo'eyktan. Not to mention when Jake left to relay the news to Y/n’s parents. They were upset at first but stressed for her future, they agreed that for her future she needed to flee. For her own safety. Y/n’s parents reluctantly agreed to the request, she would be unsafe the longer she stayed within the village. Ever since that, Y/n had been actively avoiding the Sully’s, Neteyam included.

Neteyam lost his birthright, and best friend all in one day.

He's been through a rollercoaster of emotion's and sadness the past few days, but he was able to come to terms with it. His family came first, if he were to lose his title for that, then so be it.

Neteyam also wanted to approach Y/n many times but respected his sister's wishes to give her space. By the fourth day he was fed up, he couldn’t stay away from her. He had to ensure she was ok, he also missed her terribly. Thus why he came all the way out here in search of her. He missed her terribly and couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that has happened.

“I’m sorry…” Neteyam whispers, his voice cracking under everything he felt. Y/n’s eyes snap to him, concerned glossing over irises in confusion.

“W-what? For?” She asks scooting closer to him. Neteyam clenched his hands into fists.

“For you getting involved….for forcing you to leave everything you’ve known, your family, your friends, for us..” he admits, head bowed down shamefully. Y/n lets out a shaky sigh, taking her small hands and using them to cup Neteyam’s cheeks. He allows her to lift his face up to meet her waiting eyes, all while still cupping his cheeks.

“Neteyam…..I was sad, the first day. But I’m at peace with it. I will not endanger our people, my family, just so I can stay here. I’m fine with coming along with your family. In fact, I’m grateful your family thought of me and my protection” Y/n says softly. Neteyam lets out the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxing significantly. He felt a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He couldn’t explain how happy he was to hear this. She was ok with coming with him, she was at peace with it. How could he not feel happy?

“Then….why have you been avoiding us?….have I done something to upset you? Has someone else done something?” Neteyam asks, he tries to play it off as a regular question but it came out as a plea. His need for her seeping through his words. Y/n thickly swallows, as if his question caused her to choke up again. Neteyam sits up straighter, placing his hands over hers. Y/n clears her throat before taking a deep breath.

“I-it’s you…” she says, causing Neteyam to go slightly stiff.

“All your life you’ve been training to become an Olo'eyktan. You’ve worked so hard, proved yourself and gained so much respect amongst the people. I know, because I was always there to watch you from afar. Admiring your strength and vigor-“ Neteyam felt a sad smile twitch along his lips. She’s always been there, always watching him grow. Always seeing him.

“-once I heard Tarsem being announced as the next leader, it was as if a part of me shattered…..here I am, watching helplessly as my best friends dream slips through his fingers….all because I couldn’t try hard enough to keep Lo’ak from venturing out” Y/n croaks, tears streaming down her face.

Neteyam is quick to wipe the fresh tears away from her cold skin. The past few days Y/n had been beating herself over the fact that she may be the reason Neteyam had lost his birthright. What he dreamt of every day. In a way, his dream became apart of her dream as well, as she watched him grow.

Neteyam pulls her in for a hug, his heart soaring but his heart crumbling. “It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself Syulang. Please” Neteyam begs, feeling Y/n shake that much harder under his hold, unable to hold back her cries of pain. After a while Y/n settles down, slightly pulling back to wipe her eyes.

“Neteyam, I-“

“Don’t you dare apologize” he interrupts her, swiping the streaks of tears along her cheeks. His gaze stern. Y/n seems to frown at his word but understands he didn’t want to speak of the matter any longer.

“I was sad,” Neteyam says, causing her ears to twitch with attention.

“I was sad that I’ve lost my goal, that I have to leave everything I’ve known growing up. I lost my title that I worked so hard for, but I can prove myself again. I know it. This isn't the end Y/n, but a new beginning…also a part of me is happy knowing I have my family to rely on….happy that I’ll have you” he admits, words that felt like stones to his heart because he knew Y/n wouldn’t interpret his words for what he actually wanted to say.

‘I love you, I need you with me’

“Oh Neteyam. I’ll follow you to the ends of Pandora. I’ll always be by your side.” She croaks, pulling him in for a tight embrace. Neteyam presses his head against her temple, inhaling her scent. A scent that always gave him comfort.

“I know, I’ll always be there for you Y/n. Always''

~~~~~~~~~

“Watch his head!!!” Lo’ak hisses, struggling to pick Neteyam up on the rocks. Tsireya steadies his legs, Y/n and Spider holding his side as they haul him over as gently as possible. Y/n winces at the sharp pain on her arm, her tears staining her cheeks. She helps set Neteyam down as he looks up at her, concern lacing his painful expression.

“Y-y/n” He whimpers out, seeing the distant look in her eye. That of fear.

After Neteyam and Lo’ak decided to find Spider deeper in the ship, they didn’t notice how Y/n snuck in after them. She stayed quiet making sure to stay a few feet behind them, her knife in the ready to assist them if needed.

A lot has happened over the past few months, the quick adaptation to the sea, the Metkayina clan not accepting them and dealing with the RDA once again was like hit after hit. Y/n had failed to keep Kiri safe when the Ikran snatched her away; she refused to allow Neteyam and Lo’ak to get hurt under her watch.

Her attention snaps back to Neteyam and Lo’ak jumping down taking on some of the human soldiers. Y/n doesn’t even hesitate jumping down to assist them while Neteyam and Lo’ak stare at her in shock. Seeing a soldier get up she grabs the gun off the floor, shooting the man shakily.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” Neteyam demands, snatching the gun from her shaking hands. Y/n looks over at the three who stare at her in astonishment.

“I can’t let you do this alone. Now let’s get out of here!!” Y/n encourages her ears twitch at the sound of rapid footsteps nearing them. As they run away from many soldiers, Y/n sends Lo’ak and Spider to jump into the water safely while Neteyam fires the gun to distract the soldiers shooting their way.

“Go! Go!” Neteyam hollers, his eyes focused on the soldiers who refuse to give up.

“Not without you!” Y/n demands, her eyes widening, seeing the soldier come closer for a clearer shot. “sh*t!” Y/n shoves Neteyam pulling him with her. She glances over her shoulder seeing the avatar directly point the barrel of his gun towards Neteyam. Towards his chest. Using her adrenaline to her advantage she shoves Neteyam into the water, tumbling after him.

The moment she crashed into the sea she heard the happy screams of Lo’ak and Spider as she desperately looked for Neteyam. She noticed the crimson in the water before she caught sight of Neteyam, holding onto his arm in pain.

“I’ve been s-shot” he struggles out. The three words Y/n never wanted to hear.

As she helped Tsireya pull Neteyam into the Iiu she was shocked to see the blood in the water increase. All of a sudden she feels a sting on her side, glancing down she is able to see a flesh wound, where the bullet had grazed her as well. It seemed as though colliding her body against Neteyam caused the bullet to gaze at her arm as well as his.

Y/n snaps her attention back to Neteyam as he regulates his breathing. Luckily the bullet hasn't penetrated his arm, but the gash was deep enough to cause a lot of blood. Neteyam was about to pass out from the blood loss. Y/n shakily puts pressure on his wound, drowning out the sounds around her.

Tsireya audibly gasps seeing blood pour out of Y/n’s arms. The girl was in shock, therefore not registering how everyone was around her, as well as her own injury. Her attention solely focused on the wound as she tried to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n!! Your arm!!” Lo’ak screams in hysterics, his father rushing towards them. Seeing Neteyam on the floor he clutches down, noting there was no wound on his chest, just his arm.

“Is there an exit wound?” He asks crouching down to his level. Neteyam groans back, glancing between his father and Y/n.

“N-no, it's just a graze….Y/n save m-me” Neteyam says through clenched teeth, pain cursing through the entirety of his arm. Jake looks at Y/n with relief but it disappeared upon seeing her own gash.

“S-she’s hurt dad, p-please” Neteyam whispers, seeing how Y/n’s eyes were glazed onto him, as if she were in a trance, in her own world. She didn’t register her pain or when Jake had instructed Tsireya to hold onto her wound to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n '' Neteyam calls again, causing her to break eye contact, resting on his face. Her initial shock wore off at the sound of his concerned tone.

“You’re hurt” Neteyam breathes out, feeling some relief flood into his system with her pressing tightly against the wound. Y/n shakes her head.

“You Skxawng you almost died. Don’t worry about me” she assured shakily, sending a tear sticker Tsireya a small smile. Neteyam coughs, his feeble attempt to laugh at her tone. She sounded like a mother bird, always stressing over everyone including him.

“T-thank you. For saving me”

Y/n smiles at his words, her eyes glossing with warmth. She felt panic rise deep within her at the sight of so much blood. But seeing him alert and responding proved that he was ok. He was alive.

“I told you I’ll always be there for you. I’ve got your back”

~~~~~~~~~

5 years.

It’s been five years since that fateful day. The day they won against the sky people, since the day Tonowari and Ronal accepted them as true Metkayina. One with the Reef.

Since then the Sully’s and Y/n have accomplished a lot. Lo’ak was finally recognized as a man, completing his Iknimaya. He was Metkayina now, able to prove Payakan as a hero as the people accepted him.

Neteyam also completed his Iknimaya. Claiming a Tulkun for himself as well as a Tsurak on his first try.He was known as a fierce warrior amongst the clan, Tonowari and Jake were greatly proud of his accomplishments. He had proven himself, and was seen as a mighty warrior. He finally felt like he gained what he once lost.

Kiri and Y/n also finished their Iknimaya with equal results, following Ronal and her teachings as Tsahik. And today, Tuk had finally completed hers. Thus the celebration that had been held for the majority of the day in celebration of her. Her feats at such a young age were being appreciated greatly.

Once the celebration had died down, the group decided to sit around a fire, taking sips of the celebratory alcohol to reminisce about the past.

“Do you remember when Payakan swallowed you whole? I was so scared that you were sent to Eywa!! If it weren't for Tsireya and Ao’nung then I would have had to throw hands with a Tulkun in your memory” Neteyam lets out a booming laugh, Tsireya cracking up next to her mate. Lo’ak rolls his eyes playfully at his brother's antics, nudging Tsireya who sat beside him, their hands clutching small cups of liquor.

Y/n laughed aloud at the memory, she sat perched on a large log beside Kiri and her mate Roxto. His hand held her against him as she laid her head on his shoulder. The alcohol evading her system.

“Oh yea? Who was it that fell face first into the sea right after they tamed their Tsurak?” Lo’ak taunts, Roxto snickering loudly at the memory. Neteyam frowns, drowning his drink in one go. Y/n giggles, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

“I have a better story, how about that time Lo’ak burst into tears when getting his first tattoo? I remember the big fat tears rolling down his eyes'' Y/n teases causing Lo’ak to scoff loudly. Tsireya giggles at the memory, how Lo’ak clutched her hand in a vise-like grip that left a bruise.

“Hey! Not fair, you’re defending Neteyam again!” Lo’ak accuses causing Y/n to send a playful wink across to Neteyam. Neteyam smiles, his heart thumping wildly against his chest. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol but Y/n looked absolutely breathtaking under the moonlight. Her hips grew fuller over the years, her bust also growing a few sizes, beautifully adorned with shells of the sea. Her hair had grew straight down to her waist, the tattoos running down from her arm all the down to her thighs. She looked stunning.

“Neteyam?” Tsireya calls his attention to her, his head snapping towards her. Embarrassed to have been caught gazing towards Y/n’s direction.

“Sorry, I blanked out for a second. The alcohol is strong. What was the topic?” He asks, glancing at Y/n who takes a tiny sip of the sweetly tangy drink.

“We were talking about crushes. Lo’ak said he didn’t like anyone but me-“ Tsireya furiously blushes as Lo’ak smirks wide. “-I admitted to a childish crush I had as a child that died down a long time ago. Before I met Lo’ak. Now it's your turn. Have you had any crushes?” She asks.

Neteyam feels hot under everyone’s watchful stare. He forced down the sick feeling in his stomach, as he forced his stare on the fire in front of him. He didn’t stare at Y/n across from him, the girl who had his heart for years. The love that seemed to always torture him, knowing he could never have her. How could he love her? Was he even worth her? These questions always kept his confession at bay after all these years.

He didn’t feel worthy of himself and he feared losing her altogether. He feared that if he spilled the longing he had for her, she’d run away and never turn back. Which is why he never even attempted to confess to her, painfully opting to watch from afar. Loving her from afar.It didn't hurt much since he grew accustomed to the pain, learning how to numb the burning jealousy and sadness within. He knew she didn't love him, that was the only thing that keep him sane.

There was no other female that ever held a candle to her, no other girl who took his breath away. No girl who caused his soul to smile with pure joy. There was no one that took up his heart the way she did, from the very young age of 13. It had always been her.

“Not really. Back home I was so busy with my duties I hardly had time to look for a potential mate let alone a crush. I did feel something once…… but it ended quickly. It also didn’t help that I had to stay vigilant and watch over my troublesome siblings” he states, earning a glare from both Kiri and Lo’ak. Neteyam was shocked at how easily he was able to lie through his teeth. He added a tiny bit of the truth in there to make his story believable.

Neteyam stifles a laugh, looking anywhere else but Y/n. He didn’t want his feelings to betray him, after many long years.

The group seems satisfied with his response as they move on to Roxto, then Kiri. Both admitting to never having feelings for anyone else until they met each other. How romantic.

Then, it landed on Y/n.

“So, did you have any childhood crushes??” Tsireya asks giddily, genuinely interested. Y/n giggles covering her mouth with her hand, her cheeks turning purple in embarrassment. Neteyam finds himself smiling at the gesture.

“I did, and it wasn't a childhood crush. It was serious until I realized I didn’t have a shot and I had to move on” Y/n starts, every eye on her. All equally invested.

Neteyam goes stiff. She liked someone? It wasn't a child-like crush, it was serious. Who was it? Had he turned her down? How didn't he notice? Neteyam is bombarded with these questions as he leans closer into the circle. Now fully invested.

“Who was it?” Roxto asks, sitting on the edge of his seat. Y/n chuckles, sending Neteyam a quick apologetic glance. Neteyam’s eyes furrow in question.

“It was Neteyam….”

Neteyam’s ears flatten against his head, his breathing comes to a halt at her words.

“I loved Neteyam for the longest time, ever since I was a little girl. I always followed him around” Y/n adds chucking at the memory fondly. Everyone shares smiles, wanting to hear more.

All while Neteyam sat frozen in time. She loved him? Ever since she began following him? ‘How could I have been so blind….w-we both l-loved each other?’ Neteyam felt stupid, he hated himself for not noticing. All that time thinking he wasn't good enough, all that time worrying he’d lose their friendship over a confession. All of the pain that came with watching her from a distance. All that pain. All of it could have been avoided.

“Did you know?” Lo’ak asks causally causing Neteyam to jolt up.

“N-no I n-neve-“

“I made sure he didn’t notice. I honestly never thought I had a chance which is why I decided to keep everything under wraps” Y/n quickly cuts in. In her eyes Neteyam looked disgruntled and slightly uncomfortable. When in reality he was beating himself up for being so foolish.

“How did you get over it?? When did you get over it?” Kiri asks, causing Roxto to nudge her. “You don’t have to answer if that makes you uncomfortable!” Kiri quickly adds,

“It’s fine, we're all adults here. And it was a while ago I guess…I took many years to get over him. But eventually I did and now I’ve finally moved on '' Y/n looks at Neteyam apologetically.

“I’m sorry Neteyam, this must be so uncomfortable. Hearing that your best friend once had a crush on you” Y/n says apologetically causing Neteyam to finally find his voice in the middle of his shock.

“No. It’s f-fine. If I knew I would hav-“ Neteyam whispers his feeling blubber inside of him. He felt he had to let her know, know that he felt the same. That he still feels the same. His feelings almost slip past his lips as Ao’nung walks towards the group with an annoyed sigh. Holding a tray filled with drinks accompanied with a gourd.

“Next time you guys want drinks, don’t order the future Olo'eyktan to grab them for you” Ao’nung grumbles, handing Tsireya the tray who passes it around. Neteyam mechanically accepts his glass, his eyes sorrowfully watching as Ao’nungs seats himself beside Y/n. Pulling her into an embrace.

Y/n stares up into his eyes lovingly as Ao’nung places a careful kiss on her cheek.

Neteyam feels sick to his stomach as he watches the mated pair cuddle against one another. His entire life he suppressed his feelings. Feelings he thought were forbidden. Dwellings he thought would harm his friendship with the girl he longed and dreamed about.

He painfully watched the last 4 years as Y/n and Ao’nung got closer together, eventually announcing their union before Ewya. Neteyam felt a part of him die that day, but he was okay and happy knowing she found someone she loved, after all, what he felt was unrequited, she didn't love him back. Therefore he never had a chance.

But now, all that self talk and self reassurance crumbled as Y/n had confessed she once loved him. For so long.

There was a perfect moment in time where they both mutually loved another.

‘Only if I wasn't a coward’ Neteyam cursed, his eyes stinging with the unshed tears as he watched Y/n nuzzle against Ao’nung. Her mate for life.

He missed his chance, long ago. But now he would have to live with the knowledge he lost her not because she didn’t leave him back. But because he was too much of a coward to fight for his love for her.

“Hey, are you ok?” Lo’ak whispers quietly, ignoring the chattering group. He made his way over to his brother who had been dead silent for a while. He catches the glossy look in his brother's eyes, how he watched Y/n from across the fire. A look filled with longing, sadness and regret.

Lo’ak felt his stomach lurch at the thought that Neteyam might be on the verge of crying.

“Neteyam?” He calls again, Neteyam finally turning to his brother. His eyes blown wide as he struggles to hold in his tears. Small gasps escaped his body that caused his body to shake. Lo’ak realizes the symptoms Neteyam was having, a start of a panic attack. He quickly pulls his brother up, letting him rest all his weight against his body. This catches the attention of the group as Y/n stands up, her face scrunched with worry.

“Nete-"

“It’s fine, he’s feeling sick. Told you guys he can’t hold his liquor” Lo’ak jokes teasingly. He tosses Tsireya a knowing look before excusing himself from the group. All the while having Y/n’s worried stare focus on the retreating boys.

As they walk a good few feet away Lo’ak glances at his brother's defeated face. The tears run along his cheeks freely as he tries to regulate his breathing. His face was in complete mourning, as if he had lost something of high value.

Lo’ak was able to put the pieces together, Why he had been acting differently. Why his brother always looked at Y/n as if she held the stars, in complete wonderment. And why he looked completely distraught hearing Y/n confess about her past feelings.

“It was her….you loved her didn’t you” Lo’ak states causing Neteyam to whimper out in pain.

“Yes” he gasps. He felt as though his world was crumbling around him.

“It has always been her”

Lo’ak felt his heart crumble, his brother, the mighty warrior looking defeated as the life in his eyes disappeared. It was as if he felt as though he had nothing else to live for.

Neteyam choked in another sob, unable to control himself any longer. He desperately wished he could go back in time. Tell his younger self to open his eyes. To take the step he couldn’t take.

He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he was aware of her feelings back then. Would they have been mated? Would they be this stupidly in love? Would they begin to start a family Neteyam always dreamed about. Neteyam couldn’t help but wonder.

‘I wish I knew…..’ his vision became blurry with the endless tears. His sobs taking him full force, causing him to shake in Lo’ak’s arms.

‘I wish I knew you wanted me’

____________________________________________________________

A/N: Hi!!!! I hope you enjoyed, I was was in a angsty mood so I decided to finish this idea I had for a while. I'm not good at writing angst so this is my attempt! Let me know what you think! I love receiving input from you guys. Also, Thank you for 250 Followers!!!!! I'm so blessed!! I love you guysss!!!!

Kinktober 2023: October 3rd

Day 3: Rimming, Fingering/Handjob, Dry Humping

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Spit, filthy language, hand jobs, self image issues, cum

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

His curses reach your ears, making you glance over your shoulder discreetly to where he was fumbling and berating himself under his breath.

Since coming back from the Green, Ezra has been different. Churlish and short tempered with his shortcomings that have become apparent with the loss of his dominant hand.

He had insisted that he needed work, that he could do it. Coming to you with an almost desperate plea in his eyes that was very unlike the loquacious and enigmatic prospector. Tugging on the strings of friendship and occasionally more when you both were of like mind.

The job was pretty straightforward. Harvesting was Ezra’s passion and his skill. Needing to bring in five cases of latinum, processed from the crystals near the cobalt vein on Fero 2.

Except….Ezra is struggling. Unable to do what he could before that fateful tour on the Green’s treacherous surface. The ragged and red skin that has been patched together over the remaining stump of his arm is a testament to what he has lost.

More than that, he’s not the same charismatic, confident floater that had talked his way into your bed and into a split of your profits. He’s lost. You can see and worse, so can he.

“Mother f*ckin’, mong nonger, flipper c*nt, son of a bitchin’ floatin’ piece of sh*t.” Ezra hisses, slamming the palm of his left hand against the cursed zipper that it stuck. It’s been one hundred and twenty cycles since he had lost his f*cking arm and still he’s unable to do most of the simple tasks he had taken for granted.

It doesn’t help that it’s been nearly a hundred and twenty-five since he’s had anything resembling pleasure.

Ezra isn’t a greedy man, but he is one who sees to his needs. Now, he’s unable to. Not just because of proximity, there’s no privacy in the smaller tent you are both residing in with most of your gear taking up the space. It’s because it doesn’t feel the same. There’s no pretending it’s a lover stroking his co*ck when he closes his eyes. The damn phantom pains knock him out of any fantasy.

Now he’s here with you. A woman that he intimately knows and he cannot even bear the thought of touching you. Knowing that his skills are woefully inadequate for being considered a lover. Unworthy of treating you to a fumbling, unsatisfying encounter with a man who is unable to perform at the peak of his ability.

He wants to cum, he needs to. But he can’t even drag the zipper down on his suit right now.

You watch him, sighing softly at the stubbornness of the man. That was something that has been consistent from the Ezra prior to the Green and the one in front of you.

He’s spoken about his fears. His shortcomings and his desires. Not in verbal words, but the way he has acted has been louder than any story he could have told you.

The cot you are sitting on is yours, the only space you have to stretch out and relax. Where you unwind from a day of dealing with Ezra’s increasingly short temper and the work of extracting the crystals you had promised to fulfill the contract. Your boots off and your suit stripped down to the soft, worn underclothes that protect your skin from the rubberized suits.

“Ezra.” He grunts, not even looking at you as he continues to struggle with the protective outer layer of his outfit. Another few creative curses filling the tent.

There’s a hazy idea on what would soothe the rough and raw man. It’s the same that always mellows you out when you have an itch that needs to be scratched, the pulsing pleasure of an org*sm making your rough day better.

It makes you move, standing and quietly shedding the layers until you are bare. Your feet padding quietly across the thick canvas flooring of the tent. Moving closer and reaching out to touch his shoulder gently, soothingly.

“Gem- please-” You can hear the rejection of help in the tone of his voice, the haggard resignation.

Instead of saying anything, you shush him and circle around his body. Bringing your own to stand in front of him and for once, Ezra is quiet with the exception of a strangled groan as his eyes widen. Taking in the sight of you nude in front of him.

Taking advantage of his silence, his frozen movements, you take the zipper that has been giving him so much trouble and drag it down after a few good, hard yanks. “Let me help you.” Is all you whisper, looking up at him under your lashes as you start to push the fabric off his shoulders. The neatly pinned sleeve on the right easily drops, but the left side is still caught on his bent elbow.

“Gem-”

“I’m going to jerk you off.” You tell him, concentrating on undressing the prospector while he stands stiff as a board. “I’m going to get on my knees and wrap my hand around your co*ck. Stroke you until all you can think about is cumming on my tit*.”

You smirk when he groans, knowing how much Ezra once enjoyed painting your body with his cum when he was feeling particularly wicked. Filling your mouth and covering your face when you gagged on his co*ck. Or splattering his seed on your tit* and belly. Seeing himself on you was something he had enjoyed.

Ezra exhales, a ragged sound that you imagine costs him dearly. The round curve to his shoulders as you strip down the suit to his waist and then to his ankles. His co*ck is half hard, poking up in the threadbare sweats that hang on his hips. Obviously interested in the helping hand you are offering despite himself.

He doesn’t say a word, barely breathes as you pull off his boots, strip him of the suit, pull down his sweats and reveal the body underneath. He never wore underwear, didn’t believe in it, and you’re glad some things haven’t changed.

Leaving him in the ripped, holey shirt, his co*ck curves up, hardening even more as you had knelt down and proven to him that you were going to do this. Eyes dark and piercing as he stares down.

Your own eyes are meeting his when you spit in your hand. Coating it generously and reaching out to wrap around the bobbing, quivering length.

“f*ck.” His hiss is gloriously raw when you squeeze him, sliding your hand up loosely to coat his dry skin. “You are really going to treat me, aren’t you, gem?”

He’s not expecting an answer, no when you had very clearly told him what you were going to do. Spitting in your hand again and then leaning forward to allow the spit to dribble directly on his co*ck from your mouth as Ezra swallows a moan.

His co*ck is perfect. The foreskin rolls back beautifully and reveals the pink, shiny head, begging for your mouth but you aren’t going to suck it. Wanting him to take this bit of pleasure that you will give him. Allow him to relax for a moment without lamenting his inability to do anything.

Starting slow, making sure that the long, luxurious tugs to his co*ck are pulling every ounce of pleasure out of him that you can. Letting him feel the crevices in your hand and the warmth of your grip.

“You’re too good to me.” He groans out, head tilting back and exposing the long length of his stubbled chin and neck. “Undeserving of your beauteous consideration. Your curative touch.”

His co*ck throbs in your hand, twitching when you twist your wrist as you stroke back towards the base. You had watched him several times as he had stood over you, jerking himself off to finish after he had finished wrecking you.

“I should be servicing you, dear gem.” He grunts, biting his bottom lip until it is plump and bruised with his eyes fixed on the slow, steady movement of your hand and the feeling it brings him. If he closes his eyes, it would almost feel like his own touch. “For so readily dealing with a cantankerous, feeble man.”

You huff, not finding him to be feeble, but you don’t argue with him, knowing it would be useless. His hand finds the curve of your face and you turn your head, pressing a kiss to the palm of it, enjoying the roughness of his skin as you nuzzle into it.

“So pretty with my co*ck in your hand. Imagined that image so many times as I tried to pleasure myself. Angry about having no means to give myself love. It was not nearly as sweet as the grip you hold my length. My fumbling attempts to stroke myself falling sort of your angelic touch.”

There’s the Ezra you want to hear, to see standing above you. His chest rising and falling under his shirt as he starts to pant. His mouth running more and more as he slowly starts to rock his hips forward. “You’re gonna let me paint you, gem?” He asks breathlessly. “Adorn your glowing skin with the white hues of my pleasure?” He twitches again, obviously looking forward to such a thing.

You hum, nodding up at him while your grip tightens slightly, enjoying the feeling of soft, velvety skin over the hardness beneath. Growing wetter as you remember how that hardness feels as it is pounding into you. Perhaps you will bend over your cot tomorrow and beg Ezra to f*ck you. He would be able to manage that position with ease.

When you squeeze his co*ck, moving your hand faster, you seemingly steal Ezra’s ability to speak. The groans and moans of his pleasure all the music that your ears are privy to. The symphony of his sounds shooting straight to your c*nt and if you weren’t focused on relaxing him, you would have started touching yourself. This is for him. A handjob for a man who continually laments the loss of his own.

“sh*t- gem, gonna-” Ezra barely manages the strangled words before his co*ck is pulsing in your hand. Giving you a split second warning before ropes of cum start spurting from the tip. His warmth splattering your skin and his whine of joy at the release nearly enough to make you cum. Working him, milking his co*ck of every last drop until Ezra reaches down and wraps his fingers around your wrist.

You are covered in him. The milky white seed coating your tit* and chest is thick, viscous. Copious amounts that speak of it being a long time since he had cum.

“Kevva, gem.” He hums, almost drunkenly. “I am humbled by your assistance and have yet begun to sing your praises, but my co*ck is nearly untouchable from how pleasured it is at the moment.” He closes his eyes and sighs, a small smile on his face. “Have I ever told you about the orgy that I had the pleasure of engaging in on Rynock?” He asks, showing glimpses of the man you know.