When they told you mating with a Sully would be your worst mistake, you didn’t believe them until now.
You’re sitting in the ashes of what used to be your clan’s home, the acrid smell still clinging to everything that won’t wash off.
The marui that survived are half burned, hanging crooked on their vines, and the ground beneath you is black and brittle.
Days have blurred together since the sky people came and wiped it all away—your family, your friends, the life you thought you’d build here. And Neteyam… your Neteyam. Gone in a flash of fire and human metal. Shot down like he was nothing.
His mother is the only one who’s really been here. Neytiri. She’s made it her quiet mission to hover close, like if she lets you out of her sight you might fade into the smoke too.
Everyone else is scattered—numb, rebuilding what little they can, or lost in their own grief. But she keeps coming back. Bringing water you barely sip, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders when the night chill sets in, sitting with you in the heavy silence.
You stopped crying a few hours ago. The sobs tore through you for what felt like forever, ugly, until your throat burned and your eyes swelled shut. Now there’s just this dull, empty stare fixed on the charred wall across from you. Nothing moves inside.
Neytiri shifts beside you, her tail flicking once before curling tight behind her. She’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but she doesn’t crowd. Not yet. Her sore eyes watch you with a deep, aching knowing only a mother carries—the kind that’s seen too many bodies returned to Eywa before their time.
“Ma’ite,” she murmurs, voice rough, she’s been swallowing her own pain to make room for yours. She reaches out, hesitant at first, then rests her calloused hand on your knee. “You do not have to speak. But I am here. The emptiness… it feels endless right now, yes?”
You don’t answer. Just keep staring at that wall, where a half melted bead string—maybe one of yours, maybe his—hangs limp. Neytiri’s fingers tighten gently, grounding.
“I remember the first time I saw him look at you,” she continues softly, almost to herself. “My Neteyam. So strong, so sure of everything… but with you, he—… softened. He thought I did not notice.” A faint, broken sound escapes her—something between a sigh and a sad laugh. “Foolish boy. Mothers always notice.”
Her hand moves up to your shoulder, pulling you in until your head rests against her. You don’t resist. The fight’s gone out of you anyway. She smells like him and ikran feathers and something faintly floral, the way the jungle used to before everything burned.
“It is too soon,” she whispers into your hair, her voice cracking just enough to show the cracks in her own armor. “You are both so young. You should have had seasons upon seasons… together… laughing by the river, weaving your first shared hammock, watching the stars and making promises Eywa would hear. Not… this...”
You feel her chest hitch, but she holds steady for you. One hand strokes slow circles on your back, the same way she must have soothed Neteyam when he was small and the world felt too big.
“Grief does not ask if you are ready,” she says. “It comes and leaves you changed. Some mornings you will wake reaching for him. That is the price of loving this deeply, little one. But you will not pay it alone. I will sit with you in the dark. I will remind you of his smile when the memories hurt too much to hold. I will be here when the tears come back… and when they dry up again, like now.”
She tilts your chin gently with her fingers, forcing those dull eyes to meet hers. Hers are glassy, fierce with pity and something deeper—fierce maternal love that refuses to let you drown completely.
“My heart breaks for you,” she admits, thumb brushing a stray tear you didn’t even feel fall. “To lose your mate so early… it is a wound that never quite heals the same. But you are strong, even now. Neteyam saw that in you. And I see it too. When you are ready, we will honor him together. We will carry his light so it does not flicker out.”
Neytiri doesn’t move away. She just holds you there in the ruins, her presence a fragile thread keeping you tethered while the ashes settle around you both.
The wall stares back, empty and cold, but for the first time in days, you don’t feel completely alone in it. Not with her here—Neteyam’s mother, your grief’s quiet guardian—breathing beside you, waiting for the next wave to hit.
Hellooo I posed another one bc I didn’t feel like painting the aonung one yet 😭
⠀sub!dennis latches onto you after a rough shift ͟✸
⠀⸺⠀ minors⠀𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩⠀interact;⠀𝟭𝟴+⠀content.
⠀dead dove do not eat;⠀lactation/breast milk.
dennis walked through the door to your shared apartment with a sigh that carried all the baggage he got from his shift, letting it leave his body through a harsh exhale while he hung up his keys and let his backpack fall from his slouched shoulders, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
he untied and slipped off his shoes, placing them neatly by a pair of your own. his feet padded below him as he made his way straight to the living room, finding you settled comfortably on the couch reading a parenting book.
“hey,” you greeted softly, closing the hard cover and setting it aside, adjusting your position to sit up more as your boyfriend made himself comfy across your body. you cradled his upper half while his legs dangled off the rest of the couch, arms wrapping around your form.
it was oddly quiet for this time of night, unusually so. dennis glanced up at you to get a small nod of confirmation—the baby was asleep, and wouldn’t be waking up for the next hour or two. he smushed his head into the mass of your cleavage, nose nuzzling against the half-hardening tips of your nipples, soaking in the slowly drying patches of your shirt.
you ran your fingers through his hair, tousling up the mullet he had adorned. “rough day?” you asked, earning a sluggish grumble vibrating against your breast. you hummed in response before a shaky, satisfied sigh left your lips. dennis was licking up what had drenched your shirt earlier on, tongue rubbing the soft and soaked cotton against your nipple, feeling the shirt fold under his saliva and roughly graze your skin.
“go ahead, honey, take all you need,” the whisper was sultry, and laced with both motherly instinct and sexual charge. and dennis wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around your collar, pulling your t-shirt down just enough to let one of your breasts spill out, manually pulling out the other.
his sad eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth pooled with saliva as he stared at the white-cream lactate dripping from you. he latched his puffed, pink lips around your nipple, slowly sucking the breast milk out from your swollen chest. he moaned at the taste of it, at the feel of the liquid coating his tastebuds and every inch of his mouth, swallowing it like second nature.
he used to pout. truthfully, he still does. he says it’s unfair how the baby gets your milk nearly all day, but he has to wait for it. and you would coo at him, pulling him into your grasp to hold him like you do your child, feed him while he drinks the stress and envy of his own kid away. because this is what he needs. this is what he’s been looking forward to since the moment he unlatched before work this morning.
and you always tease him for it, constantly saying “like father, like son”, because that’s how it is. and you went from eating for two, to feeding them. but you honestly wouldn’t have it any other way—not when dennis is looking up at you like that, eyebags heavy on the tops of his cheeks, making him look like a kicked puppy out in the rain. and especially not when his free hand cups the underside of your other boob, lifting the weight while his fingers brushed the swell of it before smearing the leaking milk around your areola, pinching and pulling as if begging for more, even though he was currently occupied with the first.
you listened to him drink and moan, letting out the occasional whimper when you’d tug him back by the hair on the crown of his head for either pulling and sucking too hard, or ‘accidentally’ teething on you. but you’d continue to sing a lullaby to him, breaking every other line to let out a moan or whine, the wet patch in your underwear growing even more once he switched to the other breast, getting the rest of his fix by swallowing up the swelling that the trapped and untouched milk had caused, forgetting all about the shitty, stressful day he just had.
🍓 tags: nsfw, human/na'vi relationship, angst to fluff (kinda), jealousy, vaginal sex, tsu'tey is one seriously conflicted boy
masterlist
It’s no secret that Tsu’tey hates the Sky People.
They are demons, blind to the world around them and so utterly destructive in their natures. His planet, his home, has seen nothing but chaos and hardship ever since they have arrived.
They are small and weak, yet vicious and harmful in just about every way. He has not known true peace since their arrival.
The sky demons have no redeeming qualities. Or at least, almost no redeeming qualities.
“Fuck! Oh, god-”
“Be quiet.” Tsu’tey grunts, gripping the woven cushions that you’re bent over so hard that the skin goes taut and bloodless over his knuckles.
Honestly though, it seems as though this is your attempt at staying quiet – your eyes are squeezed shut tight and your little blunt teeth are digging into your lower lip hard. Your face is all screwed up, your breaths coming in little panting gasps as he ruts into you.
“Are you not embarrassed? So loud.” He mumbles, though his tone doesn’t match his words at all.
He really can’t manage to stir up the usual feelings of disgust he has for sky demons, not when he can see the way your little toes are curling everytime he fucks into you.
“Fuck off.” You say, but your voice is all weak and trembling.
The sound of it only intensifies that heat building in his lower belly. You’re so small underneath him, your pussy stretched to its limit and dripping all over the thick length of him. Despite the size difference, you’re taking it so easily.
It’s far from the first time that he’s had you like this, on your hands and knees beneath him as you take him so well, but he still gets such a thrill out of it. He enjoys your pathetic little noises, the whimpers and moans and mewls as you wiggle and squirm beneath him, trying to get him to hit just right.
You make a sort of little mewling noise, muffled by the floor as you turn your face into the woven reed flooring beneath you, and then he feels you tighten up like a damn vice around his cock, your cunt fluttering as you come again.
“Another one,” He notes, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Greedy.”
When he comes into you, it’s with a soft, satisfied little grunt. He has done this many times already, yet the pleasure always surprises him. He’s never felt anything as tight as you, so good that it borders on painful, and the element of illicitness only adds an additional little thrill to the whole thing.
You’re still making soft, muffled little sounds as his hips rock lazily, riding out the last tingling aftershocks of his own orgasm. He enjoys those little noises immensely, and he makes a rumbly sound of satisfaction as he plasters himself over the top of you and allows his weight to press you down into the floor entirely.
“Ow, fuck-” You mumble into the floor. “You’re fucking heavy, asshole, getoffme-”
“Quiet.” Tsu’tey mumbles, his eyes sliding shut as he attempts to enjoy the pleasant tingling feeling in his fingers and toes following his release. “You are always talking, mouth never closed.”
“You didn’t mind my mouth being open earlier.” You shoot back, attempting to throw a pitiful little glare over your shoulder.
He thinks of your mouth earlier, wide open and hot and wet as you worked your tongue over him, and smirks.
“Okay, seriously.” You grumble, a little louder this time. You reach around and shove irritably at his chest. “Get off, dickhead. Did you tear your stitches? I told you to be careful-”
Tsu’tey just grunts and rolls off you, landing on his back and stretching his spine out with a sigh. No sooner has he started to relax than you’ve sat up to peer closely at the healing wounds along his chest and stomach.
“Do not touch.” He snaps, baring his teeth at you when you prod at the ridiculous little sutures that you had insisted on threading into him weeks ago.
“You’ve been touching me for the last forty minutes.” You grumble, but you take your hands back all the same.
Tsu’tey doesn’t bother responding to that. He’s feeling pleasantly loose and relaxed, and he’s trying to enjoy that feeling for as long as possible before the weight of all his responsibilities come rushing back in.
Though you’re not touching him, he can feel your eyes on him as you examine his injuries, making sure none of them have torn open during your activities. Your concern pricks at his pride, and he grumbles lowly as you peer closer at him.
“You’re lucky you didn’t bust these,” You say.
“You would just redo them anyway.” He grunts without opening his eyes.
There’s a pause. Then you sigh.
“Yeah.” You murmur, so quiet he almost doesn’t hear. “I guess I would.”
This little… arrangement with you had started nearly two months ago. He can’t even fully remember how it had happened – you were some kind of healer, and had stayed around after the battle to help the wounded. Initially, he refused your help. He would have rather suffered the pain of his wounds than feel your little demon hands on him, but you had been practically forced upon him by Jakesully.
For the first week or so, it had been nothing but sniping back and forth with each other. At some point, his insults and your challenges had evolved into heated exchanges that ended up like this, with you on your hands and knees or on your back for him as you both search for pleasure out of each other's bodies.
After the great battle with the Sky People, most of them have been forced off the planet. The ones left are loyal to the Na’vi, or so Jakesully says. Tsu’tey is not convinced; they do not belong here, and he does not like them. Their presence aggravates him; he is still healing from the near-fatal wounds he had sustained during the battle, and he does not like having enemies around while he feels so vulnerable.
You are not an exception to this; your presence aggravates him in a way he does not know how to describe. He is not blind or ignorant enough to claim that you are not attractive, in your own demon sort of way, but that reluctant sort of attraction only infuriates him further. He thinks something may have broken inside him after his fall from the sky during the great battle, but he refuses to think too much about it.
It’s just a way of working out his frustration and you clearly enjoy these encounters. It’s not worth putting too much thought into.
Life slowly returns to normal after the majority of the Sky People leave. For weeks, the Omaticaya rebuild their home. The loss of Hometree was devastating, and the efforts to rebuild is both physically and emotionally taxing for the People.
Tsu’tey does his best to pull his weight when it comes to helping out with the construction of their new encampment, but it is made difficult by the fact that you follow him around like a pest.
“I said no heavy lifting-”
“Go away, demon.” Tsu’tey grumbles, irritated by your presence.
“Doctor’s orders.” You’ve tilted your chin up, as stubbornly obstinate as ever. “Put that down.”
“Go away.” Tsu’tey repeats, but this time he reaches out and shoves at your head. It’s not a particularly rough gesture (he doesn’t actually want to hurt you), but it’s just enough to push you off balance.
You stagger a little, but keep on following him. He doesn’t bother trying to hide his irritation – the basket he is carrying is full of building materials, but it is not particularly heavy. He resents the fact that a creature as pathetically fragile as yourself would question his strength.
And even more than that, he resents the fact that his wounds are admittedly paining him a little.
“I’m the one who’s gonna have to stitch you back up if you burst those-”
“I did not ask for your demon medicine.” Tsu’tey bares his fangs at you, growing genuinely aggravated. “I do not want it. Go and bother someone else.”
“But-”
Someone calls Tsu’tey’s name from further into the village, and he pulls his attention away from you to look towards the call. At his hip, you cross your arms and grumble as though you’re unhappy that his attention is not solely on you. You are a greedy thing, just like the rest of your people – always looking for more.
The one who has called him is Saeyla, and he has to suppress a sigh at the sight of her. She was his student once, and a talented one. She always did have much potential, but things have been very awkward between them since she had offered herself to him as a mate at the Tree of Souls. He had been harsh when he had rebuffed her, but perhaps not harsh enough if she is calling to him once more.
It is typical that she has appeared in his path while you are hovering at his hip. A Na’vi woman that he rejected, and a human woman that he frequently chooses to be intimate with. It sounds like a bad joke.
“Saeyla.” He greets, hoping that he does not sound as tired as he feels. “What do you want?”
Despite the fact that she had called out to him, Saeyla is not actually looking at him. Her eyes are fixed on you, her brow puckered in visible distaste. There is no way for Saeyla to know of the little illicit sexual relationship between you two, and yet Tsu’tey feels his shoulders tense. He does not like to think of how she would react if she were to find out.
“Go away.” Saeyla speaks, but it’s not directed at him. She bares her teeth and hisses at you, and Tsu’tey bristles despite himself.
You actually take a step back, no doubt cowed by the venom in Saeyla’s tone, but Tsu’tey grabs the back of your neck and holds you in place by his hip. The audacity of his old student irks him, and he narrows his eyes and lets his lip curl as he looks at her.
“You do not give orders.” He says sharply to Saeyla. “I have business with the demon.”
You’ve gone uncharacteristically silent by his side, and he just barely resists the urge to glance down at you. Where is all that annoying fire gone? Usually he can’t get you to shut up at all.
Saeyla is still glaring, but at least now she’s looking at Tsu’tey. “Why is she following you?”
He doesn’t have a good answer to that, so he just glares back at her. He dislikes her tone, and he is not used to being questioned.
“What do you want?” He repeats himself, an unmistakable edge creeping into his voice.
There’s a pause, and then Saeyla purses her lips and throws her hair over her shoulder. Her kuru is drawn over her chest, long and glossy – her movements are calculated to draw attention to it, in a move that is unmistakably flirtatious.
Tsu’tey’s ears flatten against his head at her boldness, uncertain what to make of this.
“I wish to speak to you.” She says, before cutting a glance towards you at his side. “Without the demon present.”
For a moment, Tsu’tey says nothing. He stands there, tail swishing uneasily, as he considers the situation. This is admittedly more uncomfortable than it should be. He had rejected Saeyla’s mating proposal harshly, and now he feels as though he has been cornered by her yet again.
Even worse, you stand at his side to remind him that he has apparently turned down the company of a fine, respectable Na’vi woman to rut with a human.
With a sigh he removes his hand from the back of your neck and instead pushes at your shoulder. “Go. Leave us.”
You pause, dithering a little, before relenting and stepping back. He does not glance down at you as you retreat, but rather keeps his eyes fixed on Saeyla, who is watching you as though she’s about to start hunting you.
Once you have retreated beyond earshot, Saeyla speaks up. “Ma’Tsu’tey. I was wondering if you have reconsidered my proposal.”
Once, Tsu’tey may have attempted to keep a neutral expression and to meet her bold requests with patience. But since the battle, since his injury, since he had started fucking you, he feels like a raw nerve, pulsing and peeled open and exposed. He feels as though he’s lost some of his control, some of the safe rigidity that had ruled his life up to now.
“I have not.” He says bluntly.
But just like always, Saeyla does not know when to stop pushing.
“I understand that you are not ready to take a mate.” She says, stepping closer to him even as he stands stiff and still. “But the battle is over, and the People are rebuilding. I am happy to be… if not a mate, then a lover-”
His eyes flare wide, surprised by her brazenness.
“Saeyla,” He bites out. “You overstep.”
“It is an offer.” She says simply, bowing her head in what would have been a gesture of deferment if not for the way she is stubbornly maintaining eye contact with him. “Just an offer.”
Tsu’tey’s upper lip lifts up in a snarl, baring his sharp upper teeth. “I do not enjoy repeating myself.”
As always, Saeyla is unapologetic. She keeps staring up at him in a way that she likely believes is seductive, but is really just uncomfortably intense.
“Consider it.” She entreats him, finally stepping back. “You are lonely, I know it. I wish to share the burden with you.”
His jaw clenches, his shoulders straightening and going rigid. He probably should consider her offer. She is a woman of the People, a warrior-hunter who has completed her iknimaya, and she is not unattractive. And yet, his entire being rejects the idea of taking her as a mate. It feels wrong in a way that he does not understand.
Without another word, Tsu’tey turns from her and marches away.
He feels restless and discomfited, his tail swishing low around his legs in annoyance as he storms back through the village. Some of the People call out greetings to him as he passes, but he is too preoccupied to reply.
“Tsu’tey,” Jakesully calls when he passes by him, “Brother, I thought you weren’t cleared for heavy lifting yet-”
“What?” Tsu’tey snaps, turning with a scowl.
Jakesully pauses, his eyebrows creeping up at Tsu’tey’s overly aggressive tone of voice. Chagrined, Tsu’tey takes a moment to breathe, forcing himself to calm down. He is being unreasonable.
“I thought our resident little nurse had ordered you not to be doing any heavy lifting.” Jakesully says slowly. “You’re bleeding a little there.”
Tsu’tey follows Jake’s pointing finger to his chest, and sees that one of the neat little stitches around one of his wounds has torn open a little bit.
“Ah,” Tsu’tey’s brow contorts in frustration. “She will be a pain about this.”
Jakesully reaches out and takes the large basket from him, still watching his face carefully. “Yeah, well, we’re lucky to have her. Most of the medical personnel went back to Earth.”
“All of the demons should have gone back.” Tsu’tey says, but he’s somewhat distracted. He’s basically just repeating old arguments, his attention preoccupied with the blood that’s trickling over his chest from where your careful stitches had torn at the skin.
Jakesully gives him a look of intense disapproval, but Tsu’tey does not quail beneath it. It is a disagreement that the two of them have had several times. Tsu’tey believes that Jake is blinded by his past as a tawtute, and that he is unfairly biased in their favour, and Jake believes that Tsu’tey is allowing his prejudice to blind him when it comes to forming alliances and friendships with the sky demons that remain here.
“What crawled up your ass today?” Jake demands, brow furrowed.
Tsu’tey nearly chokes. “I- what? Nothing is up my-”
“Why are you even grouchier than normal?” Jake interrupts his protests, still frowning. “I thought you were getting along better with her.”
“No.” Tsu’tey denies instantly, his ears pinning back defensively. “I do not like her.”
Jake’s eyes narrow, visibly unconvinced. “Right. Well, Jesus, if you’re so against having her help, go to one of the Omaticaya healers.”
It’s not an unreasonable suggestion, but Jakesully has no way of knowing that Tsu’tey goes to you for reasons other than simple medical help. There is no simple way of describing the strange sexual relationship he has with you now, not without admitting a level of vulnerability that he is uncomfortable with. His attraction to you is a shameful thing that he would prefer to indulge in without having to analyse at all.
He just grunts, brow furrowed, and doesn’t answer.
“Whatever.” Jakesully blows out a frustrated breath, clearly done with both Tsu’tey and the conversation. “Do what you want. But don’t be so damn hard on her, yeah?”
Tsu’tey just scowls at him, before turning on his heel and storming purposefully back into the village. Why is it that everyone thinks they know what he wants better than he himself does today?
Predictably, he finds you in the little outpost that has been built to house the demons that have chosen to stay close to the village.
He has to loop one of those horrible little masks around his neck when he ducks inside, taking the odd puff of air every five minutes or so as he lopes into the outpost. The ceilings are high, made to accommodate the demon avatar bodies that some of the scientists have, but he still feels claustrophobic in the confined space.
The outpost itself is quiet at this time of day – the sky demons keep busy, often attempting to offer help in the village or just wandering the forests with their stupid technology as they research.
He finds you in your usual workspace near the back, fiddling with one of the glowing pad things that the demons usually use. You don’t look up as he approaches, even though he’s sure that you hear him. You appear absorbed in your work, except when he gets close he can see that you’re just staring at the pad without actually doing anything.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, still not raising your head. “I thought you were busy.”
Tsu’tey hums, poking at one of the strange machines that line the little room you’ve been working in. All this demon technology makes him uneasy, and his ears stay pinned against the side of his head as he hovers behind you.
“These stitches have broken.” He says, reaching up to scratch at where some of the blood has begun to dry.
That finally makes you turn, though your expression is all crumpled up into a frown as you step forward to peer at his chest. Ridiculously, he feels a little guilty. You had told him to be careful so many times, after all, and now he has made more work for you. But then he pushes those little feelings of guilt down deep – he was not going to be a burden on the clan by not helping out when he should, no matter how much you begged him to be still and useless as he healed.
To his surprise, you don’t scold him. You just purse your lips and gesture to the small flat bed that you use for his medical check-ups, and he sits without complaint. He is familiar with this routine by now, but his tail curls uncomfortably as you remain silent – you haven’t even said I told you so.
You place your small hands on his chest as you lean in to inspect the wound that cuts across his left pectoral muscle, right where the stitches at the top of the cut have torn. Your expression makes it very clear that you are unhappy with what you see, and yet you still remain quiet.
Tsu’tey allows the silence to stretch as you wash your hands and gather your medical supplies, threading a small needle as you prepare to redo his suturing. Even when you actually begin to fix his stitches, the needle pricking at his skin uncomfortably, he waits for you to speak first.
It becomes clear very quickly that you’re content to do his stitches in silence. Unusual. You should have been scolding him by now, insulting him as you usually do. Then he would be able to insult you right back, and you would respond with a challenge, and then eventually the two of you would wind up in a sweating, moaning heap, as usual.
But you stay silent, your tiny hands gentle as you painstakingly work on his wounds.
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes, on edge. “You are quiet today.”
You just hum, without making any real effort to answer at all. It only makes his agitation worse. Why are you acting so strange?
When you finally finish up with his stitches, you step back and move to wash your hands, still not saying a thing. He watches you carefully, brow furrowed.
You’re wearing a small white top, but you seem to have gone without your usual breast covering – a bra, you’ve called it before. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now that he’s looking at you he can see the way your nipples press against the thin cotton material. Despite the oddness in your demeanour, Tsu’tey can feel himself growing aroused.
Perhaps he’s been conditioned to expect pleasure from these little encounters with you, because he’s growing hard beneath his tewng. He reaches for you, his tail swishing slowly as his hand trails over your waist.
You finally look up at him, but you neatly sidestep his hand. Surprised, Tsu’tey’s ears twitch back and flatten. You’ve never avoided his touch before – if anything, you’ve always been deliciously eager for him.
“What did Saeyla want?” You ask, turning away from him to dispose of the used needle and bloody wipes.
He blinks. He’s a little taken aback by the question, so it doesn’t occur to him to lie.
“She wished to offer herself to me as a mate.” He says. “And when I denied her, she offered herself as a lover.”
A muscle in your jaw pulses, and you flick your hair back before throwing him a look over your shoulder. “And what did you say?”
He frowns. Your manner is confusing him. Are you angry at him for tearing the stitches? You have always told him that you would stitch him back up again, so he had not thought you would be mad.
He reaches out again, and again you step away. He scowls, frustrated.
“Am I not allowed to touch you?”
“What did you say to her? What was your answer?” You repeat, taking another step back as you squint at his face.
He blows out a breath, irritated. “It is not your business.”
“Not my business?” You repeat, sounding faintly disbelieving. “Not my business?”
Your eyebrows are raised and your eyes are narrowed, your mouth pressed into a firm line. Tsu’tey is not very good at reading the expressions of Sky People, but even he can tell that he’s treading a dangerous line here. You seem angry, though he can’t understand why.
“My mating prospects are a concern for the People, and the People alone.” Tsu’tey says, leaning forward to scowl at you. “It is not the business of tawtute.”
You scoff, folding your arms tight across your chest. “You seemed to enjoy making your mating prospects my business when you were fucking me after every damn check-up.”
“That was not mating.” Tsu’tey snaps. “That was…” He thinks of a phrase he has heard Jakesully use before, a human idiom that you will surely understand. “That was blowing off steam.”
You take a sharp breath. If you looked angry before, now you look furious.
“Blowing off steam?” You repeat, your voice trembling with righteous anger. “Are you fucking joking? I mean- I know that you don’t like humans, but I thought- I thought that you-”
Tsu’tey’s tail lashes, and he pushes himself up off the bed. He does not like this; you are unexpectedly angry, and he does not know what to do with the brunt of your frustration. He has argued with you before, small and petty disagreements as you snipe at each other, and it has always been resolved with you face-down and ass-up as he pounds his way into you. This argument feels different. He doubts there will be such a pleasurable end to this one.
“Do you even-” You start, your face all screwed up. “Do you even like me?”
What a loaded question. He doesn’t even know how to begin answering that – he just stares at you like a total skxawng, his brows furrowed and eyes flared wide in bewilderment. The two of you have never spoken about what it is you’re doing together, or about how either of you feel about it. If anything, Tsu’tey has been trying his damn hardest not to think about things.
“You-” He starts, floundering a little and trying to hide it. He hates appearing uncertain or vulnerable in any way. “You are… a good healer. And you are… attractive.”
You are more than attractive, really. You are so small and delicate, squishy and soft, and you heal rather than destroy like the rest of your kin. He likes that you are so concerned about him, that you care so much for his healing. Your weakness is also something that is distinctly… thrilling to him. He likes that he feels as though he can protect you, he likes that he feels so strong around you. When you’re not actively tending to his wounds, he’ll admit that his eyes trail after you more often than they should.
He doesn’t say any of that out loud. “But you are still a tawtute.”
“So it’s fine to fuck me, but nothing else, is that it?” You demand, glaring at him. “Jesus, why have you even been wasting your time with me?”
His ears pin back, confused. He had thought that you were both on the same wavelength when it came to where you stood with each other. It had never felt like a waste of time to him.
Tsu’tey hates the Sky People. Everyone knows that. You were the most bearable of all of them, and he will admit that you are enticing with the soft plushness of your body and your sweet little face, but you are still a sky demon. His attraction to you is a shame that he wrestles with constantly, only quieting when he is with you properly.
You’re breathing heavily, your chest heaving as you try to regulate yourself. “You know what? Fuck off. Go ahead and fuck Saeyla, or one of many other Na’vi women that are clearly into you. There’s no fucking reason for you to be wasting both of our time like this.”
When he doesn’t move, you bare your teeth and reach up to shove at his stomach as hard as you can. You are one of the weakest little creatures he’s ever come across, so there’s no chance of you actually managing to shift him – still though, he takes a step back as you shove at him again.
“Get out! Go away!”
Tsu’tey growls warningly, and grabs at your small hands with one of his before tugging your arms to the side so that you can’t shove at him anymore.
“Calm down.” He warns, frowning at you. “You are overreacting-”
“Oh, you asshole!” You yell, visibly furious. “Don’t tell me I’m overreacting! Just go – go find Saeyla and tell her that you accept, and don’t come around here anymore!”
Tsu’tey rumbles a growl, his lip curling at you. How do you have the audacity to tell him not to come around somewhere on his own planet when you are the interloper here?
“You do not tell me what to do-” He begins, but you’re not even listening to him.
“Go!” You shout, and this time he does as you say.
He beats a retreat out of the outpost, his tail lashing in agitation as he storms out. He doesn’t look back once, and you don’t follow after him.
For the next couple of days, Tsu’tey stews.
It is his nature to brood over things anyway, but even he can recognise that he’s particularly moody in the days following his disagreement with you. He skulks around the village and tries to help where he can, but Jakesully banishes him from the heavy-lifting. That means that Tsu’tey has even more time to sulk to himself, replaying the argument in his head and trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.
Strangely enough, he does not see you around the village at all. Not even a glimpse in the distance. It makes him uneasy.
Before the incident with Saeyla, you used to follow him around constantly, badgering him about being careful and minding his stitches. It had been irritating, but now that you’ve seemingly disappeared he finds himself hyper-conscious of your absence.
Eventually, he finds himself outside the demon outpost once more. He can’t quite believe that he’s here of his own free will, but he tells himself that it’s just because he needs his stitches checked. They look fine, but it’s better to just make sure.
But when he shoves his way inside, he’s unnerved to find that you aren’t here either. There are several tawtute around the outpost, and they look both startled and bewildered to see him here. He pays no attention to them, searching the place for any sign of you.
There’s another Sky Person in your usual work space, a male, and he looks absolutely terrified when Tsu’tey approaches.
“Oh,” The demon says, straightening up. “I- hello. Do you- you’re here for a check up?”
Tsu’tey’s lips peel back in a sneer, a harsh snarl rumbling in his chest. The tawtute shrinks back, horrified.
“Where is she?” He demands, looking around as though you might emerge from behind one of their strange machines at any moment.
The demon swallows thickly. At least he doesn’t insult Tsu’tey by pretending that he does not know who he’s talking about.
“Um… she’s not around right now.” His voice is trembling slightly, but he still gets his point across. “She said that if you came in about those stitches, that, um… well, she said to tell you that you should go to a Na’vi healer.”
Tsu’tey’s nostrils flare, and the tawtute flinches. “I want to speak to her.”
The man just shrugs, all jerky and stiff. “She’s not here, man. Sorry.”
It takes days before Tsu’tey sees you again.
He is starting to grow genuinely frustrated with your absence, and in some sense worried too, though he didn’t want to admit it. So when you finally reappear, Tsu’tey is honestly relieved.
That sense of relief doesn’t last for very long, because the next time he sees you, you aren’t alone.
Tsu’tey knows that you are a healer, of course. He knows that you must surely attend to other people. But ever since he was injured in the great battle, the only person that he’s seen you focus on is him.
Maybe that’s why it’s such a shock to finally catch sight of you tucked away in a corner of the village with your head bent over the arm of Artuk, a recently blooded male of the Omaticaya. He was a student of Tsu’tey himself, and only completed his iknimaya trials a few weeks ago.
As a young hunter, he is free to choose a mate for himself. It is utterly galling to see the way that his tail coils so close to your thigh as you inspect the cut on his arm, gently cleaning it of blood.
Artuk’s ears rotate forward as you speak to him, his eyes half-lidded as he listens closely to whatever it is that you’re saying. He looks too interested, and Tsu’tey feels his own ears pin back defensively at the sight before him.
Perhaps he is reading too much into this. You are a healer. You are healing. Artuk is probably not looking at you in that way at all – surely Tsu’tey is the only one with that specific illness that makes him feel attracted to the sky demons that tried to destroy his home. Or at least, one particular sky demon.
Still though, he ends up hovering nearby and trying to look busy as he steals glances over to where you’re standing next to Artuk. The young hunter’s arm has been carefully bandaged up by your gentle hands, but Tsu’tey notices that you’re still holding onto his arm anyway.
When you laugh at something he says, Tsu’tey’s ears flick even lower. Art’uk has never been particularly funny, so what are you laughing at?
Artuk starts to grin, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. Then, to Tsu’tey’s horror, he starts to shuffle closer to you.
And you just stand there, not making any move to edge away. If anything, you look flattered by the attention. As Tsu’tey watches, your smile turns faintly shy and you reach up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear.
You look so pretty from here, even if you are too small and weak and odd-looking. The fact that your smile is directed at Artuk is disgraceful, and it causes Tsu’tey’s teeth to gnash.
The last straw comes when Artuk’s tail moves low and begins to coil around your ankle. There is no mistaking what a move like that means, and Tsu’tey grimaces in pure shock. Art’uk is flirting with you. His intentions are unmistakable.
What the fuck? Artuk setting his sights on a sky demon is one thing, but setting his sights on you? That is something that Tsu’tey could never have predicted.
He’s moving before he even realises it. There is no plan, he’s not even thinking, and before he knows it he ends up standing in front of you and Artuk with a scowl so forceful that it’s nearly giving him a headache.
Artuk startles, his eyes blowing wide as he attempts to sit up straight. “Ma’Tsutey! I did not see you!”
Tsu’tey just glowers. The youngling is hardly even a man yet, and yet his tail is still coiled around your ankle in some pathetic attempt at asserting ownership. Where did he get the audacity? And you! You were letting him!
“What happened?” Tsu’tey asks, and his voice comes out rough with irritation. He nods pointedly towards Artuk, where his arm has been so carefully wrapped by your skilled hands.
“Oh,” Artuk’s ears twitch, a sign of embarrassment. “An accident with construction. A beam slipped and cut me.”
“A foolish mistake.” Tsu’tey snaps disdainfully.
You speak up for the first time, but you don’t look at Tsu’tey at all. Your gaze is still focused on Artuk’s arm, despite the fact that it’s already been wrapped.
“Accidents happen.” You say, before sending Artuk a sympathetic little smile. “Does it still hurt?”
“A little.” He says, and Tsu’tey snorts in contempt.
What kind of warrior snivels over such a small injury?
“Oh,” You coo sympathetically, and stroke a thumb just beneath his bandages. “Poor thing. Well, it’s clean now, so you shouldn’t be at risk of infection-”
Artuk is nodding, but Tsu’tey knows that he isn’t really listening. He’s too busy staring at your face, his eyes lingering around your strange little blunt teeth and your odd nose. Tsu’tey understands the appeal – he has studied your foreign features enough to be rather intimately familiar with them – but he finds himself resentful of Artuk’s interest. Innocent fascination would be one thing, but he can see by Artuk’s body language that his interest in you is not innocent.
“Thank you for your help.” Artuk says so earnestly that it sets Tsu’tey’s teeth on edge. “You have very gentle hands.”
Tsu’tey rolls his eyes violently, but you seem flattered by that little comment. You look down, all flustered, and smile up at Artuk from beneath your eyelashes. It’s a look that would have had Tsu’tey’s kuru tingling and his cock stiffening, if only it had been directed at him and not Artuk.
“Alright,” Tsu’tey finally says, his voice much louder than entirely necessary. “Go away, Artuk. I must speak with the tawtute.”
Your head snaps around, and you glower at him so intensely that it almost physically burns. Tsu’tey doesn’t care – it doesn’t matter that you’re glaring at him so long as he has your attention on him and not Artuk.
“I can’t imagine what you think we have to talk about.” You say sharply, sticking your nose up at him.
You’re such a prissy little thing. He has no idea why he likes it so much – he doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed that in a woman before.
“I think we have lots to talk about, little thing.” He rumbles, and watches the way your lips purse.
He is not blind. He sees the way your eyes dart over the muscles of his chest and down over his waist and hips, before quickly darting away towards safer territory. Unfortunately, it seems as though you’ve decided that safer territory means towards Artuk.
Tsu’tey bristles, frustrated that your attention keeps straying. He’s never had an issue keeping your attention before. If anything, he’s always found it difficult to escape your fussing. That he is being denied your attention now is making his skin itch.
“I’ll check on this later, alright?” You say, smiling at Artuk once more before straightening your little tank top and stepping back.
Tsu’tey relaxes slightly as space grows between the two of you, though he keeps darting his gaze between you and the young hunter. Artuk’s tail coyly slips away from your ankle, though it drags painstakingly slowly across your skin as it does so. Tsu’tey just barely manages to resist the urge to grab it and tear it away from you entirely.
“Yes. Thank you again.” Artuk says, his ears lowering in supplication. “Will you have dinner in the village this evening? I will see you then?”
“I’m not sure yet.” You say, a little awkwardly. “We’ll see.”
Artuk takes that in stride, and he gives you one last smile before leaving you alone with Tsu’tey. He doesn’t even spare Tsu’tey a glance as he walks away, and Tsu’tey is struck by his boldness once more. He certainly hasn’t always been this confident; Tsu’tey remembers him as a weedy youngling who cried from frustration when he found himself unable to hit the target during training.
Now that it is just you and Tsu’tey, it seems as though you’re absolutely determined to ignore him. You drop your attention to the little medical kit that you carry around everywhere, packing away the disinfectant and the bandages that you’ve been using.
“What was that?” Tsu’tey demands, ducking his head down towards you so that he can speak to you with an illusion of privacy. “You say you will check on that small scratch of Artuk’s, and yet you have not looked at my stitches for many days now.”
“You’ve told me hundreds of times by now that you think human medicine isn’t worth shit and that you don’t want it anywhere near you-”
“You have never listened to me before.” Tsu’tey snaps back, aggravated. “Why are you listening now?”
“Tsu’tey, go away.” You grit out without looking at him. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“So you would speak to Artuk instead?” He asks, frowning as he shuffles closer.
You turn and scowl up at him once more, and Tsu’tey feels something within him ease at having your attention on him again.
“Artuk actually wants to speak to me.” You say sharply. “Unlike you. Why are you here?”
“I am here because I do want to speak to you.” He points out in frustration. “You have been avoiding me.”
“Yes, obviously.” You sling your little pack of supplies over your shoulder, clearly preparing to leave. “I can’t imagine why that would bother you. You have made your opinion on me perfectly clear-”
“Well, I obviously have not made it clear if you are avoiding me.” He reaches to stop you from leaving, but stops short of actually touching you. “Stop. I wish to talk.”
“Fine.” Your small hands are clenched into fists. “Talk then. Tell me exactly what you think of me.”
For a moment, Tsu’tey just stands there. You’re watching him expectantly, your hands on your hips, and your brows are drawn together challengingly. It’s almost comical to see a small thing like you act so defiantly, but Tsu’tey feels warmth curl in his belly at the sight. It’s sweet.
“Come back to my kelku.” He blurts. It’s not quite what he had meant to say, but the words are already out and he can’t take them back.
You scoff. “No. Jesus, all you do is think with your fucking dick-”
“Not for that.” He says hastily, ears lowering. “Just for talking.”
You're still scowling, your arms coming up to cross defensively over your chest. You don’t appear too convinced by him, but he is not willing to give up just yet.
“Let us go to the tawtute outpost instead, then.” He offers. “Just to talk. That is all.”
Slowly, so slowly, you start to relent. Your shoulders lower and your arms drop, but you keep scowling.
When Tsu’tey sees you start to give in, he seizes on it. “Ten minutes. Just ten minutes.”
He’s pleading like a moron, his dignity lying in tatters around his feet. It’s a little mortifying to have to beg a demon just for the chance to plead his case, but he stands firm anyway – he may as well commit fully, after all.
You sigh, and reach up to rub at the back of your neck. You look tired, and he feels guilt creeping into his stomach.
“Ten minutes.” You say firmly, before turning on your heel and marching away.
Tsu’tey wastes no time in following you. Usually, it is him leading the way with you following along at his heels, so for him to be following behind you like this is a novelty. He finds his eyes glued to your back as he walks after you, careful to take smaller steps so that he can stay behind you.
He lets his gaze travel down your back and over the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips. It’s not often that he gets a chance to look like this – he’s usually trying too hard to pretend that he’s not aware of you at all. Now, he allows himself to appreciate the view as your steps cause your hips to sway.
The two of you have just reached the edge of the village when there’s a call of Tsu’tey’s name.
He’s fully prepared to ignore it, but then you pause from where you’re marching ahead of him and turn your head to look back in the direction of the village.
It is Saeyla again, he knows without even looking. He sighs as he follows your lead in pausing and looking towards her.
Saeyla has taken a step towards the two of you, her eyes narrowed and resentful as her gaze falls on you.
“Go away, Saeyla,” Tsu’tey calls, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I do not have time today.”
He places his hand just in between your shoulderblades and pushes, just hard enough to get you walking again. You half-stagger, glancing from Tsu’tey to Saeyla and then back again, before lurching forward.
“Are you not going to talk to-” You sound a little sour and Tsu’tey has no doubt that you’re planning some snappy little comment, but he has no intention of letting you finish.
“No,” He interrupts, still pushing you on. “I am not going to talk to her, vrrtep.”
That seems to mollify you, and you keep taking your somewhat clumsy steps into the forest, leading the way through the trees towards the outpost. Your journey together is quiet – you are still stubbornly avoiding talking to him, and he is reluctant to push his luck by attempting to draw you into conversation.
It is a relief when the shoddy eyesore of a building looms up from the forest, and Tsu’tey speeds up without conscious thought. You let out a soft sound of complaint, but allow him to guide you into moving faster all the same.
When he follows you into the outpost building, he finds that it is far busier than the last time he was here. The sight of all the sky demons chatting and laughing and working irritates him, and he glares as he straightens up, his shoulders drawing back.
“Get out!” He delivers the order in the same harsh tone he usually uses when he is training the young hunters, and he finds it gratifying when he’s met with a frantic burst of movement.
“You are so goddamn rude.” You grit out, clearly irritated with him, but you just push further into the outpost as the other humans begin to file out.
He doesn’t particularly care for manners when it comes to interacting with tawtute, but you had looked at him so reproachfully that he hesitates to snap at them again. He just follows you towards the little medical bay you work from, looming over the scientists and glowering at them to get them moving out of the building a little quicker.
You lead him into the small medical room and as the doors whoosh shut behind him, you lean against one of the work counters and cross your arms as you watch him. Your regard is weighty for such a small creature, and he finds himself puffing up his chest and rolling his shoulders under your gaze.
“Go on then.” You say, eyes narrowing. “Explain.”
There’s a challenging bite to your voice that has his tail curling. He is getting excited, and he hopes that you don’t notice. He imagines that you will only get angrier at him, but he can’t help it – there’s something about the jagged edges of your anger that is impossibly enticing.
“I told Saeyla no,” Tsu’tey says, and watches you very carefully for your reaction. “I told her no about mating, and I told her no about taking her as a lover. Just as I have told her before.”
Your expression wobbles, but you manage to keep up the veneer of calm aloofness remarkably well. “Am I supposed to care about this?”
Tsu’tey steps towards you, and is pleased when you don’t step away from him. He ducks his head, just slightly, so that he’s closer to eye-level with you.
“Yes,” He murmurs. “I think you do care.”
Your jaw clenches, and he realises that you’re beginning to get defensive. He tilts his head in supplication, attempting to appear non-confrontational – he will need to be careful or you will grow too angry to listen to him.
“I do like you,” He says. “You asked me before. The answer is yes, I do like you.”
You sigh, then reach up to rub at your face in frustration. It is rare that he gets access to your face like this; your face always appears so impossibly distant to him, all locked behind the awful plastic bubble of your mask, and he watches with ill-disguised interest as you press your fingers into your eyelids.
“Are you only telling me this because I was talking to Artuk?” You demand, your eyes squeezing shut in frustration.
Tsu’tey shifts on his feet. He feels as though it would probably be unwise to answer that question, but he wants to be truthful with you.
“I have been thinking these few days.” He says, frowning. “But I did not like seeing him with you. He should not make advances on you like that.”
You laugh, but you most certainly do not sound amused.
“Why not?” You demand, stepping towards him. “He doesn’t mind that I’m human.”
Tsu’tey’s ears twitch, his mouth pursing. “Is today the first time he spoke with you?”
You scoff again, turning your face away from him. At first he thinks that you are so frustrated with him that you can hardly bear to look him in the eye, but then he sees that your mouth is pursed and your eyes are shifty – you are embarrassed.
“No.” You say, clearing your throat. “It isn’t.”
Tsu’tey inhales sharply. This does not please him at all.
“He’s friendly,” Your arms tighten across your chest defensively. “And he treats me like a person rather than a demon.” After that jab you pause, but then keep going as though the confession just spills out of you. “He… he’s hurt himself a couple of times over the last few weeks. He brings me fruit when he comes to get fixed up.”
That is a revelation that leaves Tsu’tey reeling. There is no reason that Artuk could not find a Na’vi healer in the clan to fix him up – and why was a hunter who had completed his iknimaya and was recognised as a man in the eyes of the People getting injured so often, anyway? And bringing you fruit? That, in conjunction with how his tail had curled so boldly around your little ankles, was undoubtedly a mating display.
And this has been going on for weeks? Tsu’tey has been fucking you for months, at least two, which means that surely Artuk has smelled his scent on you. That means that he has chosen to challenge Tsu’tey’s claim to you anyway, a fact that has Tsu’tey bristling. Not that his claim is obvious, admittedly. He should have noticed, should have done something about this.
To realise that his old student has been seeking you out like this is utterly galling. He feels a little ill at the thought of you accepting Artuk’s offering of fruit, of you smiling at him as you patch up his wounds, of you allowing Artuk to touch you.
Tsu’tey steps forward without thinking, reaching for your waist. This time, you don’t back away from him. His stomach leaps a little bit in mingled excitement and relief, and he lowers himself to his knees as both his hands cup you by the waist. It chafes at his dignity a little, to kneel before a sky demon like this, but when your eyes settle on his face he feels something in him ease.
Your eyes dart down to his hands, so large where they wrap around your torso, before darting quickly back up to his face.
“You only have ten minutes.” You remind him, raising your chin. “And you haven’t done much talking.”
Bossy, he thinks, amused despite himself. He has never been very good at talking, but he’s determined to do the best he can.
“I do not like Artuk talking to you.” He says, his fingers curling into the soft material of your clothes. “I do not like him bringing you fruit. I do not like that he is attempting to offer himself to you as a mate-”
“Oh, that isn’t what he’s doing.” You roll your eyes, but Tsu’tey ignores you.
If Artuk was brave enough to be so damn unapologetic about his desire for you, then Tsu’tey should be too. It might be shameful to desire a tawtute, but it would be even more shameful to have the tawtute he desired stolen away by another.
“I enjoy your softness, I like your small hands, I like that you care so much about the wellbeing of other people,” He starts, his tail lashing. “I like that you are small and bold. I like it when you get angry. I like the noises you make when you open up around my cock-”
You let out a noise of pure mortification, your hands jumping up to grab at his wrists where he’s holding you.
“Oh, stop!” You hiss, clearly flustered. “Where is this coming from? I thought we were just blowing off steam. If you want a lover, go to Saeyla-”
Tsu’tey cuts you off with a frustrated snarl, his fingers tightening around your little hips.
“You are angry at me for something that I have not done.” He points out, clicking his tongue. “I have rejected Saeyla, I have rejected Txisma, I have rejected Ninat. Can you not see? You are the only one I have had.”
Your forehead is all wrinkled as you frown. You seem confused, and he can’t blame you – his feelings have been confusing him, too.
“Do you-” He starts to ask, insecurity rising up in his throat like bile and gripping him tight. “Do you like me?”
“Ugh!” You throw your hands up, narrowly avoiding knocking him upside the head. “You’re so stupid! “
His ears pin back and his lips press tight together, but he does not argue. He is still waiting for you to answer the question, and it seems as though you’re just working yourself up.
“Of course I fucking like you!” You snap. Tsu’tey doesn’t even have time to feel pleased about that before you continue. “Do you have any idea how humiliating all this has been? I didn’t even really care that you were being a total asshole the whole time we were hooking up because at least you were noticing me. I understood why you called me a demon, I understood why you talked all that shit about humans. I still do undertand! We’ve been awful! But I thought that maybe you were getting over it, since you were coming to find me damn near every day just to fuck. I thought that maybe you might like me-”
“I do like you.” Tsu’tey says quickly, but you actually hiss at him.
“Shut up!” You snap. “I’m not finished!”
You have no fangs, so you should be utterly unintimidating, but he finds his ears flattening as he sits back on his knees, falling silent. It probably shouldn’t be attractive, seeing you like this. He attempts to stifle his reaction the best that he can in the hopes that you won’t notice the way he is shifting.
“You’re rude, and grumpy, and sometimes talking to you is like trying to talk to a brick wall!” You continue, your little face all contorted in frustration. “You think you know best, even when you don’t, and you won’t listen to my goddamned medical advice even when it will fucking help you! And I’ve had to redo those stupid stitches of yours at least a dozen times-!”
Tsu’tey’s own brows are furrowed now. Are you confessing that you like him, or are you just going to list out all of his faults?
“And yeah, I like you anyway.” You sigh, rubbing at your face. “God knows why. Maybe it’s your nice face, or stupid sexy body.”
Ah. A compliment. Tsu’tey tosses his braids back and smiles smugly. So you do like him. Excellent.
“I am sorry that I upset you.” Tsu’tey says, his voice low in the intimate quiet of the room. “I have been… confused. But I know that I want you.”
“Like, actually want me?” You ask, one of your eyebrows cocked in challenge. “Or do you mean you just want to fuck me?”
“No, I mean-” Tsu’tey takes a breath, confused but determined. “Fully. I want you fully.”
Your expression falters, and you bite your lip hard in an effort to conceal your feelings. “Oh yeah? Even if I’m just a human? Are you willing to defend your choice to the rest of the clan?”
“Yes.” He breathes. “I… I think so.”
Your face collapses into a scowl, and he realises almost immediately that he has made a mistake.
“Well,” You say; your tone is so faux-sweet that it’s almost sickening. “Why don’t you just come back when you're certain, then?”
You reach down and knock his hands off your waist, then turn from him and begin to march towards the door. The sight of you trying to leave sends his stomach plummeting to his feet. Has he lost his chance? Is his ten minutes up? Panicked, he lunges forward and grabs at your little hands.
“Wait.”
He is still on his knees, which makes it difficult to shuffle after you, but he still manages to lightly tug you back to him. You yelp, reaching up to plant your hands against his chest in an effort to keep your balance.
“I want you,” He says urgently. “I am certain.”
You pause, your breathing coming heavier as you stare at him. He can see the whites of your eyes as you watch him in what looks like disbelief.
“What if you want to take a mate later?” You demand, eyes narrowing. “What if you decide that I’m not enough, or that you want a Na’vi mate-”
“You are it.” He interrupts, hoping that his tone conveys just how earnest he is being about this. “Demon or not, I… it is you that I want. Just you.”
He’s not expecting you to lurch towards him, your little hands reaching up to grab at his face. When you press your soft little lips to his in a kiss, his hands find purchase on your hips and he uses his grip there to haul you closer.
"Sweet little demon," He breathes against your mouth, "Please, just- let me-"
"Yes," You gasp into the kiss as you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair, desperate to make the kiss last. "Yes, alright-"
When Tsu’tey’s hands slip down your back and over the curve of your ass, it sends a visceral jolt up your spine. He lets out a soft grunt, and squeezes at the pliable flesh there as you kiss him fiercely. He doesn't know how you’re able to do this, to make every small contact feel so unbelievably good. He swears that even your chastest touches make his head swim.
The hand that he had on your ass slips around to your front, where he plucks at the waistband of your stupid leg coverings.
“Remove.” He groans out, his voice rough and gritty with arousal.
You do as he says eagerly, pawing at the button closure before shoving your pants roughly down over your thighs. You are so sweet and insistent, and you keep kissing him with unrelenting heat as you push your trousers off. He unclasps his own tewng and tosses it aside before his hands return to your body.
His hands roam over the soft material of your top, landing just over your squishy breasts. You are not wearing a bra again today, and he delights in the feeling of them in his palms through your top. You are so much smaller than him that your breasts fit neatly in his hand, and he marvels at the sight.
“Fuck,” You whimper as his thumb brushes over one of your firmed up nipples. “Oh, fuck, please.”
His fingers curl into the fabric covering your tits, and he tugs at it lightly. “Remove.”
You start to wrestle your way out of your top, and Tsu’tey feels a little thrill at how easily you are obeying him right now. As soon as your top is removed and your breasts are bare, his hands coast down over your ass. His hands squeeze lightly over the squidge there, and then he uses his grip on you to haul you up into his arms.
You squeal a little in surprise, before you dissolve into laughter as he holds you against his chest and nuzzles into the base of your throat. Tsu’tey breaks out into a wild grin at your reaction, unrestrained and thrilled – your laughter is an unspeakable relief after being on the receiving end of your ire for so long.
You’ve barely stopped kissing him once, your little hands cupping his face and keeping him firmly in place as you nip at his mouth. The wet heat of your tongue against his has his head spinning as though he had drunk too much of the fermented nectar the clan makes for celebrations.
When one of his hands slips into the flimsy cotton of your panties, he takes a sharp breath when his fingers find the slick heat between your legs. Oh, you’re so wet, all sticky and slippery as the pads of his fingers ghost over your swollen little clit.
You moan, your hips jerking, and Tsu’tey grins into the kiss, sharp teeth bared. It seems as though you want him as badly as he wants you.
His fingers press into at the same moment as he ducks his head down and bites at your throat, and you wheeze as your back arches. Your hips are chasing his hand, rutting up and trying to get him where you want him. It’s cute, and he suckles at your neck as you shiver against him.
“Tsu’tey,” You breathe, your hands winding into his hair. “Tsu’tey, please-”
He is almost unbearably hard, but he can’t bring himself to tear his hands away from you in order to take care of himself. He just grunts, and allows his thumb to roll over your clit as you gasp a tremulous little breath.
"Tsu’tey," You complain, beginning to writhe around his hand. "Will you- can you just-"
When he just chuckles at your tone you huff and reach down, grabbing a hold of the hand he’s got between your thighs and rutting your wet pussy against his fingers.
“Yes,” You breathe, your eyelids fluttering dazedly as your head tilts back. “Like that.”
Tsu’tey watches with an open mouth as you grind against his hand, sucking his fingers in deeper as you rut your clit up against his thumb. Heat flares through his nerve endings at the sight alone, and he ducks his head down and laves his tongue over one of your breasts.
You cry out, pressing closer, and he takes the hint to keep going. He suckles at your firm nipple, enjoying the way that your breath stutters as you absolutely soak the hand between your legs.
“Fuck!” You sob, but then you bite your lip hard to stifle any more sounds as he rolls his thumb insistently over your clit.
Tsu’tey breaks away from your chest, his mouth leaving a string of drool connected to the breast he had been sucking at. He frowns at the sight of you biting your lip to stay quiet.
“Let me hear you.” He says, and the gravel in his voice surprises even him.
“No,” You grumble, though you’re breathless. “You always say I’m too loud. Mouth never closed, remember?”
Damn. He curses his past self for sabotaging him like this.
“I was a skxawng. You must not listen to me.” He murmurs, kissing your breast before licking over your nipple. “I like it. Let me hear.”
The next time his thumb rolls over your clit, you let out a soft, breathless moan. The sound hits him like a punch to the gut and goes straight to his cock.
He feels a little bit feral as he takes a hold of your hips and lifts you, walking quickly to the large medical cot in the corner of the room.
The medical bed was built to withstand the weight of avatar bodies, yet when Tsu’tey lands heavily on it with you in his arms it judders unsteadily beneath him. You let out a small noise of concern, grabbing at his biceps for stability as he clambers atop you, settling between your legs and looping your thighs around his waist.
His fingers return to your cunt instantly, and his chest rumbles in a satisfied purr when your little cunt swallows them inside with ease. Your hips buck up to meet his thrusting fingers, it seems without conscious thought on your part. You’re absolutely soaking, and your pussy makes obscene, wet noises with every plunge and retreat of his fingers as you pant.
Your obvious pleasure and the feel, sound and smell of your sex ratchets up Tsu’tey’s own excitement. He finds himself rock hard just thinking about how good it’s going to feel to have your soft, slick body envelop his cock, and he moans against your breast.
“Okay,” You breathe, spreading your thighs further as he settles into the cradle between your leg. “Come on, fuck me.”
You’re such a pushy little thing. It’s taking every ounce of strength in him not to flip you onto your stomach and just pound you senseless, but he’s trying to prove himself to you here. He will make you feel good, but he will do it carefully.
“Yes, little thing,” He breathes, his cock hard and unyielding as it rubs against the folds of your sex. “Alright.”
He grips the base of his cock, grunting with the effort it takes to hold himself back. He pushes his hips forward, the tip of his cock dragging against you as he grinds lazily in between your thighs.
When he does finally begin to push in, he does it painfully slowly. Your brow puckers, your lower lip sucked in between your teeth as you inhale sharply and whine. He watches your reactions with avid interest, his eyes tracing over your face as he pushes into you. He thinks you look beautiful like this. You are soft and strange and small, but your features please him just as your bossy little attitude does.
“Relax, vrrtep,” He murmurs, nosing at your sweat-slick temple. “Or I will not fit.”
“Just- do it-” You’re trying to hump your hips onto his cock like a damn little brat, and it nearly makes him laugh out loud.
He knows you can take it – he’s had you before when you were less prepared, and he’s not sure why it feels so different this time.
He eases his pelvis back, and then pushes forward all at once until he’s halfway inside. You shriek, clawing at his strong shoulders, and he stills for a moment to let you adjust.
You whine, breathy and wanting, as Tsu’tey lowers his chest so that he’s pressed tight against you with your breasts all squished up against him. Like this, he can feel the frantic flutters of your heartbeat against him, and his own heart thumping rhythmically as if to mellow yours out. He purrs, chest rumbling soothingly as he slides deeper.
Your eyes are squeezed shut as you gasp, and Tsu’tey’s purring takes on an edge.
“I want you to look at me when I claim you.” He says, his lips dragging over the base of your throat.
“Stupid,” You gasp, your nails biting into his back. “As if it could be anyone else.”
"I want you to watch," He clarifies, nipping at your collarbone. "After this, your cunt will know no other than me."
“Jesus fuck-”
He hunches over you until you’re engulfed beneath him – you’re so tiny, and he’s never felt like such a mighty warrior as he does right now, with you safe and caged in by his own body.
With a grunt, he begins to rut into you properly. You fit around him like a vice, so tight that it feels as though you’re trying to actually squeeze his cock right off. The wet heat of you steals his breath away, and he moans senselessly into your throat. He feels lightheaded with pleasure, and clutches mindlessly at the soft flesh of your ass.
You scrabble at his chest, and he blinks in bewilderment as you grab at the breathing mask looped around his neck and bring it to his mouth. He takes a deep breath and some of that lightheadedness fades, but he still feels positively dizzy.
He looks down, and feels his brain practically blank at the sight of your pussy stretched taut around his cock, swollen and shining wet as he fucks into the hot cradle between your legs. You take him so well, entirely at his mercy as he lifts your ass up so that he can push into you at an angle, your legs locking tight around his narrow hips.
You reach up and fist his braids in your hand, and he snarls like a beast. Has this always felt so good? Or does his body recognise that his mind has finally opened up, accepting you as a potential mate?
His strokes steadily became long and powerful, angled just the way that you usually like. You reach above your head and clasp the steel bars of the medical bed to hold yourself steady, and Tsu’tey’s eyes drop eagerly to your chest as your breasts bounce.
“Lovely,” He mutters drunkenly, bowing his head to suck a bruise into the top of your breast. “Yuey, ma’tawtute.”
The noises that you’re making have his head spinning. How could he have ever shushed you? He was a bigger fool than he can even fully comprehend.
He grips your ass and pulls you up closer, your thighs squeezing tight around his hips. You whine, then choke, then go silent as he strokes into you as fiercely as he dares without hurting you.
“Do not go quiet on me now, mate.” He croons, one hand pawing between your legs in search of the swollen bead of your clit. “Let me hear you.”
He isn’t going to last long in the agonisingly tight heat of you, but it’s so terribly important that you come first. It is a matter of pride, of dignity, of his honour as a man – he needs you to know that it is a priority for him to please you.
“Oh, fuck.” You practically wail it, the word all drawn out and slightly slurred as your head tosses back. “Keep- keep touching me like that, please!”
Tsu’tey does as you ask, his fingers rolling insistently against your clit, so soft and swollen from your arousal. Your back arches and your cunt clamps down on him, and he damn near blacks out from the sheer overload of sensation.
“Oh, yes,” You pant, eyes wide and mouth open. “Tsu’tey, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-”
“Yes,” He says eagerly, a purr ripping through his chest. “Yes, let me see your pleasure. Give it to me.”
It seems to wash over you like a wave, your eyes rolling back as your head tips against the bed, your fingers scrabbling across his back. Your walls tighten around his cock in pulsing waves, and you let out a soft keening that sounds like a garbled version of his name.
You’re a mess, all sweaty hair and glowing skin and limp limbs as your orgasm rocks through you. You look beautiful, and Tsu’tey doesn’t allow himself to blink the entire time you’re coming.
Your climax marks the end of Tsu’tey’s control, and he lets himself go. His head drops to your shoulder and then he’s running on pure instinct and biting. His teeth are sharp and pierce your soft skin easily, without the need for any real force. He drives into you, breathing heavily, grunting as he thrusts harder and faster, letting the world fall away until he’s aware of nothing else but the singular sensation of fucking you, of knowing you’re his, of keeping you safe, only you, his and his alone.
With that thought, he comes suddenly – harder and faster than he’d intended – and the shock of it ripples down his spine like an electric current, sparking in his blood and seeping into his veins. He moans around your shoulder as he spends himself inside of you, feeling his release fill you and overflow, dripping out of the tight space already stuffed so full.
For a long moment, the only sound in your little cramped office is the sound of the two of you panting for breath. It doesn’t occur to Tsu’tey to breathe from the mask again until you start fumbling for it, but he releases your shoulder from his mouth and takes a deep inhale when you press it to his face. His tail waves lazily at the gesture – you’re such a caring little thing.
Just like all of the previous sexual dalliances between the two of you, Tsu’tey goes entirely boneless after his orgasm. He doesn’t even bother to pull out of you, just enjoying the feeling of intimacy as he goes lax over you, ensuring that his body weight is rolled slightly to the side so that he doesn’t crush you.
“Okay?” He manages to ask, still feeling a little as though his brain has been liquefied.
You pant out a breathless laugh. “Oh yeah. I’m so okay.”
Tsu’tey hums as he nuzzles your jaw, the side of your neck. When you raise your hand and run them through the braids at his scalp, his eyes flutter shut instantly. Your small fingers scratch lightly at his scalp, and he lets out a purr so loud it nearly shocks him. How could Saeyla have ever thought she could compare with this? It feels so right, and he curls himself around you with another quiet purr thrumming in his chest.
You let out a soft noise, and Tsu’tey raises his head so that he can look at the bite mark he’s left on your shoulder. It’s bleeding lightly and sluggishly, and he runs a thumb lazily over the indentation of his teeth, smearing some of the blood over your skin. The sight of his mark on you, his claim on you, has his spent cock pulsing tiredly inside of you.
“Are you hurt, small one?” He wonders. He can’t quite drum up any guilt over marking you this way, but that doesn’t mean that he wants you to feel pain.
You just scoff, your head tilted back towards the ceiling as you breathe. “It stings, but it’s fine. You’re a real asshole, you know that? What the fuck was that? You’ve never bitten me before!”
“Of course not,” Tsu’tey mumbles, laving his tongue over his own teeth marks on your shoulder. “I have not claimed you properly before. It was important to fix that.”
You exhale at that, a breathy little laugh. “Oh, claiming, huh? Why didn’t you tell me? Next time, I’ll give you a big nasty bite too.”
Tsu’tey’s tail curls, his ears twitching in excitement. Do you mean that? You wish to claim him too, in the way of his People? How would it feel to sport your mark on him, made by your blunt little teeth? He would wear it with pride, he thinks. He can imagine your smug little face at the sight of Saeyla noticing, and he barely stifles a quiet snigger in your hair.
“Next time, tìyawn.” He promises you, hardly able to contain his own excitement at the idea.
You just yawn, blissfully unaware of the way that his thoughts are racing, and turn your face into his chest. “I feel like I want to sleep for a hundred years.”
Tsu’tey chuckles, his hands drifting low over your back. His fingers pet absently over the base of your spine, fascinated by the lack of tail there.
“You must sleep later, vrrtep.” He murmurs, before nipping lightly at your other shoulder that doesn’t have his bite. “Come. Let us go and get food.”
That catches your attention, and you squint up at him through disbelieving eyes.
“Now?”
“Yes.” Tsu’tey says simply, his tail lashing. “Artuk is waiting to see you there.”
He nuzzles into his mating bite on your shoulder, and feels you sigh under him. There is no possibility of you misunderstanding what he means, what he wants Artuk to see.
“You’re such an asshole.” You say yet again, but this time Tsu’tey’s ears twitch at the unmistakable fondness in your voice. “A possessive asshole, apparently.”
He doesn’t bother trying to deny that. He is a possessive man, and always has been. There are very few things in life that he has to call his own, and he is fiercely protective of them. Now, that stretches to include you.
It’s no secret that Tsu’tey hates the Sky People. But he’s willing to admit that you just might be an exception to that.
Synopsis, Spider wasn’t the first human born on Pandora, but he was the first to grow up on it. You had Neytiri’s heart long before Jake came along, and you’d have both of theirs long after. The problem is, humans weren’t meant for Pandora. Even so, Eywa saw you, and it seems like she accepted you. Maybe that's why, even after being without you for so long, they saw you again.
WC: 10.5k (oh wow)
inspired by @jsooly taken in by the sullys series!
A/N: I wrote this quite literally at 5 am, and it's drastically different from my usual writing style, but I like it! Very bittersweet! and written with the assumption that whoever is reading this knows about Sylwanin and her lore.
You were born to a soldier on Pandora, a Seargant who seemed unbothered by her pregnancy during her term. The RDA wasn’t progressive, not at all, but they weren’t so cruel (at least to their own race) that they’d force a pregnant woman into work. Your mother simply made the decision to keep working, no matter how unsafe it was.
After she gave birth to you, she seemed… inattentive at best. She took maternity leave for the required period of time and got back into the action once she was cleared, leaving you essentially alone. It wasn’t long after her redeployment that she was killed in action along with the rest of her squad. An unfortunate accident in the dangerous wilds of Pandora
So, motherless and unclaimed by a father, you were orphaned. Too young for Cryo, they let you stay. Your mother's room became yours and yours alone.
Of course, the RDA base was no place for a child. Ill-equipped and non-accommodative. The higher-ups reasoned that you’d best be left to the scientists and doctors. They’d know how to take care of a kid best, right?
Of course, no one really paid much attention to you. Giving the minimum attention necessary to keep you alive, lest they carry the guilt of neglecting an infant to death.
Grace wasn’t sure what to think of you when you were put in her care. She was a scientist, not a babysitter. Her focus was on the Na’vi, their way of life, and the organisms living on Pandora. She didn’t have time to look after a kid.
You were shucked off onto some lower-level scientists and assistants. She didn’t hear much from you other than your crying, which was always met with swift confinement to your room with your current caretaker.
Eventually, though, you became autonomous. You were quick, slippery, and curious. The ones in charge of you didn’t pay much attention, which led to you sneaking around. Once, finding your way into Grace's lab.
She found you at her desk, standing on her chair in only an ill-fitting t-shirt and diapers, leaning over and staring at the projection of various pictures she had up.
Grace wasn’t cruel; she may not have wanted to be responsible for you, but she held the same fondness for kids that most did.
Carefully, she picked you up, sitting you in her lap, and asked you what you were doing.
“Pic!” Is all you blurted out, head turned around, and staring at her with your wide and curious eyes. Grace chuckled, nodding as she hummed and affirmed your babbles.
You spent the rest of that day in her hold, watching as she scrolled through the pictures and videos she had in the database, explaining, in the most child-friendly way, the ones you were interested in.
Being just over a year old, you weren’t still in her lap. Wriggling around, grabbing at her and objects, even standing up in her lap and jumping up and down, which she swiftly stopped. Despite all this, Grace was patient with you. Perhaps it was your curiosity for Pandora that softened her, the fact that you were interested in something she’d devoted her life to researching.
A new brain to fill, maybe.
So, you made frequent trips to the lab after that. Slipped past your caretakers and crawling into Grace or Max’s laps, whoever was available, and babbling on and on. You weren’t the center of attention or a priority, but you became somewhat of a soft spot for Grace and her fellow scientists. Not as much of a burden, anymore.
It wasn’t long before you started picking up on the Na’vi phrases being used, especially once you discovered the parts of the lab dedicated more towards the avatars and culture of the Na’vi. Grace, ever the enabler of your interest in Pandora, started speaking to you in almost strictly Na’vi.
Being so young, you picked up on it incredibly quickly, nearly at the same speed as English, which you’d only really started learning a month or two prior.
It was cute to them, having a little human baby babbling in Na’vi and focusing so intently on the fauna and flora you saw in catalogs. Some even joked that your bedtime book should be the one Grace wrote.
They called you the LabRat around the base. A term of endearment, of course. Many knew about you, the loose kid on base who scurried around and spent almost as much time in the lab as the scientists. You were cute. But really, that’s all you were to them, a cute kid.
But to Grace? Somewhere along the way, she grew more fond of you than she’d expected. She ate with you at breakfast, watching you messily eat out of the corner of her eye as she held conversations with the other scientists. You stuck to her side, only ever really leaving it when you wanted to be with Max or go to sleep. Even then, she often had to carry you to your room multiple times throughout the day when you fell asleep in her lap.
You spent a lot of time with Max, too. Whenever Grace was in her Avatar, which was often, you found yourself with him. He was always a little softer with you, having been more fond and sympathetic with you earlier on.
He treated you more like a kid than most others. He didn’t really try to feed your curiosity with Pandora, instead focusing on the fact that you were a deprived orphan child. He was the most suited to take care of you, probably.
At some point, you found your way into the Avatar lab, watching through the windows. No one really saw it coming, but you escaped. With your little mask that was slightly too big for your face, you ran out the door, gunning right for Grace’s Avatar.
They didn’t really think you’d recognize her, but you did, and you wanted to see her. Of course, you were a little intimidated by her drastic change in appearance and height, but at this point, you knew about the Na’vi and Avatars, so you didn’t have much of a problem.
Grace, in her Avatar form, was perhaps even more loving towards you. Maybe it was the youth of the body, or the fact that she had her own internal favoritism for it, but she seemed happier. Something you picked up on quickly.
You loved being outside. No longer were you content being cooped up in the lab, you wanted to see the forest! Of course, they weren’t exactly ok with the idea, but your crying eventually convinced them.
Grace decided to take you to the school. She’d made excellent progress with the Omaticaya through the school, maybe it would be good to start introducing some direct human contact… through you. And she figured it could be good for your development, meeting beings that weren’t just inattentive scientists and soldiers.
With your mask on and sporting your cutest clothes, Grace took you to the school. The Na’vi kids were unsure about you at first, with their adverse feelings about Skypeople, but eventually they opened up.
You were small, so incredibly small. Even the young children had no problems holding and cradling you. You were cute in your own, human, way.
They were intrigued by the fact that your Na’vi was as good as your English. Granted, neither were particularly good, seeing as you were a toddler, but it's the fact that they were at the same level that they admired.
Sylwanin was especially interested in you, often taking you in her arms, cooing and coddling you.
“Sa’nok, she’s so small!” She’d exclaim to Grace, who’d laugh in response.
“Well, she’s human. You’re probably at least 2 feet taller than my human body, and I’m an adult.” She leaned over Sylwanin, smiling down at the scene. “She’s just a youngin’, not even 2 years old.”
From then on, you were a regular addition to Grace’s school and a personal favorite of Sylwanin and Neytiri. The two sisters absolutely adored you. Cooing over you and your babbles, sitting you in between them or on one of their laps during the lessons.
Often, they’d sit in the back with you, giggling at your tiny body and antics, brushing your hair, or watching as you fiddled with whatever toy or objects you could get your hands on.
Between your time in the lab and out at the school, you were the first human to be culturally raised Na’vi. It was fascinating to Grace.
Tsu’tey was cautious of you at first, unsure of how to handle how small and frail you were. But out of everything, you were also incredibly persistent and curious. Somehow, you found yourself worming your way into Tsu’tey’s arms, waddling up to him and demanding he pick you up through body language.
Sylwanin found this utterly adorable, how you’d stand there and “Hmf!” until he reached down and picked you up. He didn’t really know how to hold you, hands tucked under your armpits, torso and legs dangling in the air, but you crawled your way around him, finding yourself sitting on his shoulders. Well, shoulder, to be exact. You could comfortably sit on one, granted it was with one of his hands on your legs to keep your balance while you grabbed onto his braids.
“Tey-Tey” “Wanin” and “Tiri” you called them, not really able to pronounce their full names. They, of course, didn’t care, cooing at the babble of nicknames you gave them.
In turn, they started to call you “Syulì'ang”, a butterfly-like insect that was known for its characteristic claws that latched it onto whatever it landed on. A fitting nickname, they all thought.
Their sweet Syulì'ang. Tsu’tey was more or less simply amused by you once he was comfortable. He wasn't as doting as Sylwanin or Neytiri or some of the others; he liked you, but it was more or less than he was entertained by you.
Of course, that changed the more you stuck around. By the time you’d learned to walk well enough to walk to the school yourself, with Grace accompanying you, of course, he was always waiting by the doorway. He’d give a simple nod to Grace when the pair of you came into view, and he tried to remain stoic as you ran forward, your small body knocking into his tall legs and calling out his name, but Grace, and just about anyone else who really knew him, could see through it.
You spent your developmental years at the school, growing up so quickly that the Na’vi kids didn’t know what to do. When they first met you, you could barely walk, and all you could really do was babble and string together words, but years passed, and you began holding conversations and moving around fairly fluidly.
Of course, you were still small and babyish, still just a toddler, but toddlers grew and changed fast.
You were like their baby sister. Tsmuke, they called you. To them, you were really no different from another Na’vi kid. You spoke fluently, you were young and saw the world in a manner that seemed to reflect their own cultural point of view, perhaps from your exposure to it.
Grace couldn’t really place when she started to love you. Maybe it was when you first called her “Sa’nok”, copying the kids at the schoolhouse. Maybe it was when that transformed into “Sa’nu”, or when it became “mama” when back in the lab. Maybe it was that day you first caught her attention, having snuck into the lab and into her heart.
She never corrected you when you called her those things, even when she got odd stares from the others around when you did. They just didn’t get it. They were too wrapped up in their own world. And yeah, so was she, but at some point, you became a part of her world.
She didn’t really think of herself as your parent, but she didn’t mind if you thought of her as one. She wasn’t really the nicest; she was definitely more of a ‘tough love’ kind of parental figure, but that wasn’t really all that bad.
Pandora wasn’t suited for you. You weren’t supposed to be there, and it wasn’t a good place for you by any means. You weren’t given proper attention or affection, and when you were, it wasn't consistent. Grace and Max, and the Na’vi kids weren’t role model family figures, but they tried, and they loved you, no matter how… odd it was.
At some point, you’d met Mo’at and Eytukan. Likely, they’d heard of you from their daughters and Tsu’tey. It was hard to tell what they thought of you, after all, they had their own reservations about the humans, only allowing the school to function due to Sylwanin's request.
But they liked you enough. You were a kid, a toddler, innocent in what was being done to their planet. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of any prejudice they held towards the humans. You spoke the language and learned beside their children. You seemed to love the forest as if it were your own home.
Formally, you met Mo’at when you fell down and scraped yourself while running out of the school, being chased by Sylwanin. You cried, of course, but Sylwanin, as calm as ever, simply scooped you up and told Grace she was taking you to her mother to get fixed up, running off before she could object.
You watched the Tsahik in awe as she worked on you, rubbing a salve on your wounds, her jewelry and beadings clinking together as she did so. You watch her in silence, Sylwanin giggling at your entranced demeanor. At the end, climbing back into Sylwanin’s arms, you turned and told Mo’at she was magnificent. A big word for your age.
Mo’at had to admit, you were a charming little kid.
Neytiri was especially charmed by you, often taking you from anyone else's arms to hold you in hers. It became a running joke that she’d adopt and steal you away if she could. She never denied it.
You could always be found fiddling with her hair or necklaces, pulling at them or putting them in your mouth. Neytiri, despite not liking your actions, was patient with you, simply giggling as she pulled it from your grasp and pointed your attention elsewhere.
Some people on base started to voice complaints about you being out too much. Being gifted jewelry and pieces by Sylwanin and Neytiri, and one piece from Tsu’tey, you began dressing in them every day.
Of course, the complaints went nowhere, being no more than off-hand comments made by people who had no role or responsibility in your upbringing. As loved as you were, you were still overlooked more often than not, just an orphan kid who wandered in and out of the base. Outside of Grace, Max, and a few other scientists, no one really cared.
You had your routine. Getting up, spending time with Max before running out with Grace to the school. The school was your favorite place, you often told Neytiri and Tsu’tey in giddy whispers. You felt free and loved. It was your place.
When Sylwanin stopped showing up, you were sad. You missed her. Really, she was your favorite.
You didn’t understand why you stopped going to the school, why Grace started arguing with a bunch of the soldiers more often, and why you were no longer allowed outside of the base. You cried a lot, saying you wanted your Tsmuke’s and Tsmukan. You wanted to go to the school, you wanted to see Neytiri and Sylwanin and Tsu’tey and the others.
You cried when a scientist, tired of your whining, told you they probably didn’t want to see you.
Grace had a hard time comforting you. She didn’t know what to say, struggling with her own grief and guilt in the whole situation. All she could do was hold you and tell you that things were going to be okay.
It was a while before you stopped crying so much. You still whined about wanting to go outside, but you learned to stop when asked. You spent your nights fiddling with the gifts from Neytiri and Sylwanin, the jewelry they crafted for you, the toy Mo’at gifted you once, and the Ikran Tsu’tey carved for you out of wood. They were your most treasured pieces.
You worked on your own gifts for them, on and off, through the two years you spent without them.
You were six by the time Jake came around. You became attached to him very quickly.
He’d just made it to base and was getting filled in by Norm. His introduction to Grace wasn’t going well, bordered by her hostility towards him being there in place of his brother. Before he could say anything else, you bounded into the room.
“Sa'nu! sa'nu! 'ur 'upe oe run!” Mama! Mama! Look what I found! You yelled, stopping at her feet and shoving an insect you were cradling in your palm into her face.
She glanced at the bug and tilted her head, raising a brow at you. “ Y/n, nga kame nga're ke tung wrrpa, ‘itetsyip.” You know you’re not allowed outside, little one.
You pouted, stomping your foot. “Oe ke wrrkä! tsal pamähem ne oe.” I didn't go out! It came to me. You insisted. Grace merely rolled her eyes with a grin as she ruffled your hair.
Jake looked at Norm, confused, who translated a lazy “she’s showing her a bug.” for him.
As if you just noticed their presence, you awkwardly glanced at the two, shyly shuffling behind Grace. Jake glanced between you and Grace before leaning in.
“What’s that you got there?” He asked, smiling as he watched your facial expression change. Before he knew it, you were launched into a whole explanation about the bug. It's name, both scientific and Na’vi, and all the fun little characteristics you noticed and pointed out to him.
It was easy to tell who you’re favorite was going to be among the newest science recruits. You became quick friends with the ex-Marine, demanding his attention whenever he wasn’t busy.
You were an interesting little thing. Energetic as all could be, running around like you owned the place, switching between languages so casually as if they were one. Jake paid more attention to you in a week than most of the people on base had in your entire life.
He’d come by your room, peaking in as you played with your toys or read a book you definitely didn’t actually understand. As soon as you noticed his presence, you’d abandon whatever it was you were doing to run to him, hoisting yourself up into his lap.
“What's up, little bug?” He’d say, smiling down at you as you went on and on about whatever it is you wanted to talk about. Most of it went right over his head, but he listened nonetheless. He got the memo pretty early on that you were essentially left to your own devices, only helped with the bare minimum by people who didn’t want to be responsible for you
So, he started being more attentive towards you. Call it fatherly instincts, he calls it common empathy. You didn’t have any plans or expectations for him, you weren’t disappointed in his presence in place of his brothers, you simply looked up at him with those wide and love-filled eyes. That was all he needed to become hooked. His little bug, he liked to call you.
To Norm, Jake had adapted a fatherly role scarily quickly. Of course, Norm thought you were cute, but he wasn’t really sure what to do with you. It puzzled him how well Jake was with you, for only knowing you for a few days. How you crawled into his lab during one of the briefings, obviously tired but wanting to be involved.
The briefing was casual, so Jake wrapped his arms around you and cradled you, rocking you in his arms as he hummed a lullaby he’d grown up with on Earth.
It was the first time someone had sung you a lullaby, at least since you were a crying infant everyone was desperate to soothe. You fell asleep in his arms immediately. Grace only gave a passing glance and a chuckle, stating he was now on bedtime duty.
And that he was. You were a stubborn kid when it came to bedtime, fighting your own sleep and exhaustion because you wanted to be where the attention was. You didn’t want to miss out on any of Grace or Max’s briefings or discoveries, no matter how dull they were, or the fact that they didn’t really happen after hours. Nevertheless, you were difficult to put to sleep.
He was quickly called the Y/n Whisperer after he calmed you down from a tantrum and had you knocked out in bed within 10 minutes of you being told to go to sleep, an affair that often took at least half an hour and some strong bargaining.
Jake was still reeling from it all. For him, he was still dealing with the fact that his brother was dead and he’d taken his place on a scientific mission on Pandora, whisked away from his dystopic life on Earth and given a brand new chance. It was dizzying, and now he had a kid attached to his leg.
Call it what it was: whiplash. He doesn’t really understand why you liked him so much, why he was able to connect with you so well. Maybe it was because he was the first person to spare you a second glance in your entire life, a second glance you didn’t have to work and beg for.
If given the chance, Jake was sure you two would be absolutely inseparable.
It was during dinner that things shifted. You were there for Jake's recounting of the events that transpired after he got chansed off by a Thanator. Through it all, all you heard was that he’d met Neytiri.
Neytiri. Your Neytiri.
You missed her. You missed her so bad, and Jake got to see her. It had been two years, and you thought for sure there was no way you’d be able to see her again. But Jake saw her! He even went to the village, so he likely saw Tsu’tey, Mo’at, and Sylwanin!
Seeing them was possible. That was the conclusion you came to.
Tsu’tey was the one to find you the next day. You had snuck out, exopack secured on for the first time in nearly two years, and you set off. Your memory was hazy, and you hardly remembered your way through the forest.
Scratch that, you didn’t remember it at all. You got lost almost immediately, your excitement to see your friends slowly replaced with uncertainty and fear. You wandered through the woods, climbing across logs and rivers, becoming more and more sure that you weren’t going the right way…
Of course, you didn’t know what to do. No one could really blame you for how you started crying out, yelling for Neytiri, Tsu’tey, Sylwanin, Grace, whoever you thought could find you.
It wasn’t until you heard the growl that you regretted your decision to be so loud. Nantang. They surrounded you, stalking and getting ready to pounce. All you could do was scream.
Tsu’tey found you, following the distant yelling for familiar names and then the high-pitched screams. He shot the Nantang, scaring off the others as he rode in on his pa’li. He was ready to shoot you, the human who had trespassed onto their land, but he paused. Arrow resting between his fingers, and breath hitched.
It was you.
He was quick, dismounting his direhorse and scooping you up in his arms, doing his best to soothe you with soft words as you cried and writhed in his hold. Blood was everywhere. He was horrified.
He acted on pure impulse. Jake. Jake probably knew you. He was also human, and he was an avatar- so he probably knew Grace- he had to get you to Jake.
So he rode on his direhorse as fast as he could, holding you tightly in his arms as you bled and bled and cried. Oh, how you cried, clinging to him and whimpering, he felt so helpless. Exactly like how he’d felt that day Sylwanin died in his arms at the school house. He couldn’t have that happen again. Not with you. Not with the small girl he’d grown so fond of.
It was a blur, finding Jake and Neytiri, the morphing look of terror on their faces as they took in the sight of the girl in his arms and his disjointed explanation. It was a blur, and he was on his knees, Neytiri holding onto him as they both shook, taking in the situation as Jake ran off into the woods with you in his arms, pushing himself as fast as he could go.
Jake was scared. You were such a sweet girl, and in the days he’d known you, he was hooked. You were small, petulant, stubborn, smart; you were a good kid. You were funny and fun to be around, and he liked you. He saw why Grace had such a soft spot for you, who wouldn’t?
But now you’re in his arms, bleeding, and Grace is gonna be horrified.
He got you to the base, bursting through the doors, demanding a doctor, yelling you needed help because you were hurt and bleeding. You were small, hurt, bleeding, and it felt like you were at death's door.
You were swept out of his arms, and all you could do was whimper, reaching back out to the strong arms you felt safe in. They hooked you up to machines, tended to your wounds. They assured Jake and a just-arriving-frazzled Grace that you were gonna be fine.
But the base wasn’t a hospital. Yeah, it was a military base, and those often come with medical centers, but it wasn’t good, especially not for a child. With how advanced they were, they weren’t well equipped.
You suffered for days, writhing and screaming in pain, tears only stopping once you ran out of them.
Despite Grace and Max’s pleas and Jake's insistence towards Quaritch, you were essentially… ignored.
You were loved. But you were still just a bastard orphaned child; the RDA simply didn’t want to deal with you, especially with your seemingly growing allegiance to the Na’vi.
Of course, they did what they could to help you, but it was minimal.
You were going to die, Grace and Jake were sure of it.
So, desperate, he went to Mo’at. He pleaded for her to help you. She didn’t need much convincing.
The night before Grace planned to move the operation to the Hallelujah Mountains, they snuck you out, careful to remove all your hook-ups to the machines.
They took you to the village, breaking so many rules, desperate to help you.
You were frail, withering away in his hold. The best he could do was whisper comforts as he carried you.
Mo’at worked quickly, shooing them out of her tent as she worked on you. Salves, mixes, incense. She worked for hours. You were just a little kid; you had so much before you. She pleaded to the Great Mother to help you, even if you were a human she could barely reach.
You were getting better, but it wasn’t enough. Something was wrong, very wrong, and she didn’t know what it was or how to help.
She pulled away, examining you with a hitched breath. Just as she went to move to grab another tool, something caught her attention.
An Atokirina.
It floated in the air, pulsing until it wilted down to meet your skin.
Mo’at’s eyes widened.
“We must take her to the Tree of Souls.” She declared as she stepped out of her tent, the group that had gathered in front of it standing and moving in confusion.
They wanted to question it. Jake wanted to ask what was wrong, how you were doing, and if you’d live. All the words were on the tip of his tongue, but Grace grabbed his hand. She kept her gaze forward, at the tent, but she’d communicated enough.
Tsu’tey was the one to take you into his arms, lips pursed, and eyes gazing down at you in worry. For a moment, Jake wanted to be the one to hold you, but you curled into Tsu’teys arms so comfortably- so familiar, a moment of comfort and assurance when you were in so much pain.
Neytiri followed close behind, hand resting on your forehead as they walked, her eyes focused on your face scrunched in agony, your pinched brows and wavering lips. How she wanted to soothe you, to hold you, and kiss away the creases of pain in your face.
You’d grown so much since they’d last seen you. You were still so small, but so much more grown. They had missed you so much, their grief compelled by the loss of two sisters. They nearly begged Mo’at and Eytukan to call off the ban on humans on their land, if only to see you.
And now, you were back in their arms, but by the force of necessity and desperation. Out of the fear of death.
The clan, having roused at the commotion, made their way to the Tree of Souls with the group. They didn’t question their Tsahik’s care of the human child, many of them having heard the accounts of you and your kindred nature from the many children who’d attended the school.
Arriving at the Tree, Neytiri and Tsu’tey kept Grace and Jake at a distance, allowing Mo’at to prepare as the clan gathered around. They pulled Jake and Grace down to the ground with them, connecting their Kuru to the roots sticking up. They started to hum, moving as a group.
With everything in them, they begged Eywa to help you.
You were human, yes, but they loved you. You were their sister. You were Grace's daughter, by love if not biology. You were a sweet kid, and they wanted- needed you to stay.
“Allow this child to heal, Great Mother, allow her to heal and walk among us. To live, to feel your embrace.” Mo’at’s words echoed, her chants and pleas thrumming through the crowd.
Placed at the base of the spirit tree, you lay there, wrapped in luminescent tendrils. They wrapped around your small body, seemingly consuming you as they grew. The light of the tendrils pulsed with your every breath, echoing across the tree like a ripple in water.
You… you felt free. The tendrils were warm, encasing you in what felt like a mother's embrace. Your vision was blurred, but you saw. You saw so much, all you could do was smile. You saw Sylwanin, every time you’d seen her, every word, every movement. She wrapped around you. You saw the sea, you saw the forest and the land. It was breathtaking.
Mo’at faltered, her chants falling off the tip of her tongue as she glanced down at you. At this, the ones who’d brought you here opened their eyes.
They didn’t know what to do.
You were there, alive. More alive than you’d ever been, but they could feel that you were slipping away.
Neytiri crawled towards you, Grace scrambling up and finding herself at your side. She took your hand in hers as Neytiri caressed your hair.
They knew it was a desperate attempt, taking you here, unlikely to work, but it hurt. They weren’t ready to let go. The humans weren’t going to help you. What else were they to do?
Tears slid down Grace’s face as she watched you, your eyes glazed over as a smile crept onto your lips.
“Y/n- Syulì'ang please-” Neytiri whispered, her voice cracking. She leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Stay” she begged
“Syulì'ang,” Tsu’tey choked out, pleading, biting back his words, and tears with them. “Be strong, stay with us.”
You heard their words. You wanted to reach up, to comfort them. Grace was right in front of you, and all you wanted was to reach up and wipe the tears off her face.
Grace cried. Silent, of course. Tears slipping down her cheeks like arrows of fire burning their way through the air. They hurt like it. She wondered if they’d scar, if there would be a trail of scarred flesh down her cheeks when she was done.
You were her child, at least, the closest she had to one. You were the best thing she’d had in a long time. And now, you were slipping away. Like the school, like Sylwanin, like Neytiri and Tsu’tey and the children who’d called her Sa’nok. You called her Sa’nu.
The grief was endless. A fountain pouring from Neytiri as she wept, hands shaking as she tried to fight the urge to take you into her arms. She’d seen you grow up, your words develop from babbles to sentences, your mind expand. She wore the bracelet you’d made for her. It was ill-fitting and poorly crafted, but she weaved it into her armband, careful to preserve its shape and structure. She meant to always have you with her, even if she couldn't physically.
You were more than a child she saw as a sister; you could have been her child. A ridiculous notion, but she felt so strongly about you. She wanted to take you in, hold you close, and carry you as she did her chores and duties. She wanted to hunt and bring it home for you to eat till you were full. Perhaps, to her, you were an odd mixture of a sister and child, but that just meant she loved you all the more.
Her sweet Syulì'ang. She’d named you after the insect, a beautiful creature that fluttered around and gripped onto surfaces when it meant to. She wished and wished and wished that you'd stay, that you’d grip onto the ground and stay there with her. She did not like humans, but you? You, she loved.
So it hurt, watching as your eyes closed, feeling your pulse slow, have you die right in front of her, right in her reach.
Your eyes, heavy, rose up to the sky. “Sa’nu, Tsmuke, Tsmukan, Jake-” Your words were quiet, strained, and heavy. But you spoke anyway, a warmth passing through your body. “Eywa, she’s” It was hard to speak. “She’s like the waves-” your breath released from your lips, cutting off your words.
The tendrils around you pulsed before they dulled, the light dimming across the Tree of Souls.
Jake could only hold Neytiri as she cried, his own tears falling as he felt his entire demeanor freeze.
They left you by the tree, something Grace opposed. But Mo’at had insisted it was Eywa’s wish. Jake and Grace weren’t happy, nor were Tsu’tey and Neytiri; they wanted to give you a proper burial, but they complied with their Tsahik’s declaration.
It was mere days later that Neytiri visited again, only to be met with an empty landscape. You were nowhere in sight, only an abundance of tendrils in your place, pulsing with light as Eywa breathed below them.
Ronal, for weeks, dreamed of a face. A human one. She’d never seen the girl before, unfamiliar with the face and voice she kept meeting in her dreams. It bothered her, being met so forcefully with a demon's face, but behind it, she felt the Great Mother's words.
She couldn’t make sense of it; it drove her wild how she prayed and prayed, and all she was met with were new visions of the girl. With a newborn baby, she felt stretched thin. She confided in Tonowari about her dreams. He did what he could to comfort her, putting in effort to relieve her of as much stress as he could.
Ronal prayed, seeking answers and clarity. What did the Great Mother want?
One night, she dreamed of the spirit tree, along with the girl. She dreamt of whispers, of a new face, of a young Metkayina child she held in her arms.
She woke up in a cold sweat, right as dawn rose in the sky.
She made her way through the village, mounting her tsurak, and traveled to the cove of the ancestors. She felt a weight in her chest as she arrived. She dove under, swimming through the featherlike branches as she made her way to the center of the tree.
She reached forward, placing her palms on the branches wrapped tightly in on itself. Slowly, she unwrapped it, pulling it away from the other ‘leaves’ wrapped around. Once she got to the center, she pulled back.
An infant lay in the middle, wrapped in the leaves. Slowly, she pulled it out, taking it into her arms, she swam up. Breaching the surface, she looked down, watching as the baby breathed in the air.
The first breath.
Ronal gazed down at the baby, brows pinched together as she took her in. Confusion was the least she could describe it as.
A moment passed. Ronal mounted her tsurak, and she returned home.
Whispers surrounded her as she walked through the village, eyes following her and landing on the unknown infant in her embrace. In the mere minutes she’d had the baby, she felt an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct towards it. She reasoned she felt that way about most babies, but this was stronger.
She approached her Marui, Tonowari, meeting her at the entrance. He gazed down at her, then the baby, confusion panting his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, stuck in the flurry of words he was trying to put together.
“The Great Mother brought her to me,” Ronal spoke, calm and melodic. “To us.” Tonowari gazed up at her.
Words exchanged between them in complete silence.
He nodded, stepping aside, allowing Ronal to enter the Marui.
The two took to their daughter quickly, entranced by the baby given to them by Eywa. They were lost, confused by her appearance, but they didn’t question it. They simply placed her in the cradle with their other baby, Ao’nung, watching as they turned and curled to hold each other.
“You dreamt of her.” Tonowari’s voice broke the silence.
Ronal, attention on the baby's unwavering, nodded. “Last night, yes.”
He looked to his wife, tentative as he examined her facial expression. “And the others?” He questioned.
There was a moment of silence, Ronal’s hand coming to rest on the edge of the cradle.
“I do not care. She is my daughter. She is ours now.”
Tonowari stared at his wife before nodding, reaching down to cup his daughter's face in his hand. “And what is our daughter's name?” He spoke, already transfixed by the infant lying in the cradle he crafted by hand.
Ronal tilted her head, watching the girl. After a moment, she gazed to Tonowar, their eyes meeting as a soft smile graced her lips.
“Syuli”
After your death, Jake’s loyalty to the RDA wavered. Grace had accepted her fate as a trapped scientist long ago, but Jake refused. He bonded with Neytiri and Tsu’tey quicker, earning the faith of the clan before he finished his Iknimaya.
He saw it in black and white. The humans left you alone and to die, the Na’vi loved you as their own and wept at your death. His decision was clear-cut.
Still, his fast actions weren’t enough to prevent the events that led to Neytiri’s belief of his betrayal. Or the destruction of the home tree. Or the death of those he fought by.
By the end of the war, your death was followed by many others. Black stains on Jake’s heart. He mourned you, grieved for you. The devastation of the war was hard enough, but you? You weren’t even a casualty; you were a victim of the most unfortunate of circumstances. He replayed it in his head over and over again, each time wondering what he could have done to save you, to prevent your death.
It drove him to the worst of his depths. A side of himself he hadn’t even seen when his brother died.
The only thing keeping him afloat was Neytiri and the child that lay in her womb.
“She is with Grace now, my Jake, with the Great Mother.” Neytiri would say, burying her grief. Twice, she's lost you now. When Sylwanin died and her parents shut down their connections with the humans, she wept for not only her sister but for you. Would she never see you again? At least back then, she found comfort in the fact that you were safe and in Grace’s care.
Perhaps you still were, in her arms, just as you are in the Great Mothers. But you’re not in hers. That’s what hurt. How you’d never grow up, forever stuck as the small child she knew and loved.
Time passed, and she had Neteyam. Her sweet baby boy. She felt the cracks in her heart start to be stitched back together, only further healed when they took in Kiri.
She saw it in Jake, too, how he took to his fatherly role immediately, perhaps better prepared after his time with you. Slowly but surely, they came to be okay again.
Still, you burned in their hearts. As she wove her songcord, she pulled one of the beads from the bracelet you made her, as carefully as she could, and wove it in.
A‘eveng, Y/n, ohe oamum
Wamintxu fi oe, a syawn
a’atanur oe mameyam
meyam ohe ngenga, tsalsungay pehrr lom
A child, Y/n, i knew
showed to me, a blessing
a light I held in my arms
I hold you, even when gone
It was hard to speak about you to the kids. They didn’t want to introduce the idea of someone dying at such a young age. They also still grieved you, struggling to accept your death. It wasn’t fair. You should be with them, growing up alongside their children. You would have been such a good big sister.
This hit Jake especially hard, knowing how you’d been excited to have another kid on base; Spider. You raved to him about how you were going to bring him to the lab all the time, what toys you’d give him, and how you wanted to teach him Na’vi and have him as a little brother. At least, the closest you could have to one.
So it was hard watching Spider do all that, grow up and learn Na’vi, come into his family and be seen by his kids as a fellow sibling, knowing it was everything you wanted.
But years passed, and their family grew, and it grew strong. Their children knew of you in passing, in hushed breaths like how they spoke of Sylwanin and the others they’d loved that left them through such harsh tragedies.
Neytiri and Jake didn’t want the children to wonder what it would have been like to have you in the family. It was already too painful for them to wonder themselves.
Their children grew, their personalities developed, and they came into their own. It was hard not to see you in each of them. Tuk’s curiosity, Lo’ak’s mischief, the softness in Kiri’s eyes, and how Neteyam was so thoughtful with his words. For all its hurt, it also gave them comfort. They’d continue to see you, even when you weren’t with them.
Their grief became something mellow, something they could plant love and strength into.
But then the RDA came back. Like an old scar tearing apart, refusing to heal. Their lives turned upside down, and their healing came to a harsh halt, slowly stepping backwards against the blood and gunfire they stood in.
That eclipse, when the kids were in the hands of the recoms, Jake felt barbed wire wrapping around his throat.
He heard their whines, their yelps of pain, and he almost lost them. He refused to risk it. Not again.
“He had our children. Had them under his knife.” He was scared, begging Neytiri to leave, to find a better place for them. He hadn’t been able to find one for you. He wouldn’t let that happen again. “Look, I got nothing… I've got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.”
Neytiri heard the unsaid, seeing what he saw when he spoke.
“But I do know one thing, wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” It was unintentional, his hands placed delicately on her shoulders, one slipping down, grazing the armband she’d woven with your bracelet in it.
They had to protect their children.
The Travel to the Metkayina was difficult, tiring, laborious, and met with storms that raged against them. But they pushed through. They’ve pushed through worse; they’d do this for their family.
They landed on the beach, drawing the attention of the clan, who gathered around them in confusion and awe. They were nervous, holding themselves close together as they were gawked at and picked on by oncoming clan members.
Jake felt a sense of relief when Tonowari, an honorable man and the clan's Olo’eyktan, arrived at the scene, greeting them warmly and with a smile. He felt confident, with Tonowari on their side, he believed he could get past the wall Ronal would inevitably put up.
As the crowd parted, he prepared himself, but he felt all the breath be taken out of his lungs.
Ronal stalked closer, her imposing demeanor, but that wasn’t what shocked him. Behind her, following at her heels, was a young girl. Teal skin with swirling stripes.
She resembled you.
He couldn’t place it; the girl was Metkayina, in every way. But something about her face, the way her expression was set in it, how she carried herself. The air around her, the look in her eyes. All of it set off bells in his chest, ringing and clanging against the grief that settled there. The grief for you.
She stood behind Ronal, tilting her head exactly the way you did when you were curious about something.
Neytiri had seen it hundreds of times, holding you in her lap at the schoolhouse. She let out a breath. Jake glanced at her, millions of words passing between them.
She saw it too.
Jake took a moment to collect himself, pulling back from the shock he’d experienced but couldn’t explain. He went on with his prepared speech. He was seeking Uturu; sanctuary, safety for his family.
His veins were buzzing. He didn’t want to be turned away, to force his children to retreat in defeat, praying they’d find another clan willing to listen and take them in. He felt helpless.
Ronal, skeptical, circled the family. She pulled at their tails, remarking how inefficient they’d be in the water, in their way of life.
She approached Kiri, taking her hands in hers. A scowl crossed her face. Four fingers. Kiri held her breath, self-conscious of her extra finger, a tell-tale sign of their human descent. Demon descent.
Ronal gazed down, tilting her head.
She looked up to her daughter, the one who’d arrived with her. She watched her for a moment, the dreams she saw all those years ago flooding her mind. Something she’d never speak aloud.
She dropped Kiri’s hands, walking past the children and Jake Sully. “You are ill fit to live here.”
“We can adapt. We can learn.” He pleaded, desperate to convince them to let his family stay. Desperate to appease the leaders of the clan.
“I’m done with war.” He spoke to Tonowari, quiet and between them. “I just want to keep my family safe.”
Ronal watched him, not convinced by his words. Behind her, her daughter stepped forward, placing her hand on her mother's shoulder.
“Sa’nu.” The words escaped her lips, and Jake breathed in. He saw you, sitting in Grace’s lap in the lab, running up to her excitedly, lying at the spirit tree, dying.
Ronal looked at her daughter, words exchanged between their gazes, she turned to her mate, being met with the same sentiment. A moment passed, and she nodded.
“Jake Sully and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced, explaining to the clan their duty to teach them their ways of life.
Jake sighed in relief, bringing forth a ‘thank you’ from his family.
“Our children, Syuli, Ao’nung, and Tsireya, will show your children what to do.”
Ao’nung stepped forth, displeased by his father's decision, but silenced.
“Come, we will show you our village!” Tsireya stepped forward, hand in hand with her sister.
You looked to the family that had arrived at your village. You took in their faces.
They felt familiar to you. You couldn’t place it.
Tsireya tugged you along through the village, humming as you made your way across the woven walkways. Neytiri and Jake, though focused on taking in their new home, couldn’t help but watch you. The bounce in your step all too familiar.
It was eerie, and they didn’t understand their attribution of you to the little girl they’d known all those years ago.
You became a constant in their life, always around their kids, peeking into their Marui to offer fruits you’d picked with your mother. You were a sweetheart, thoughtful, and kind to their children.
Your mother stayed skeptical of her allowance of the foreigners into their clan, fueled by your growing night problems.
It had been years since she last caught you sleepwalking. It was a problem when you were a child, roaming around the village in the midst of the night. Many concerned clan members came to her with stories of how you found yourself at the edge of the walkways, staring up into the open sky with a withered look on your face.
You sleep-talked, she discovered after staying up to follow you one night. You spoke garbled sentences, strung together words that didn’t make sense. You spoke in a mix of Na’vi and English.
How you even knew the language? She couldn’t understand.
She prayed nightly, seeking for guidance on how to help her sweet baby girl. Again, she was only met with visions of that human child.
It all came to a head one night when Tsireya woke her up, lip jutting out as she whispered that you’d fallen during your walks. Ronal soothed her daughter, telling her to go back to sleep before leaving to find you.
You were on your knees, hands clasped together as you spoke in broken prayers, eyes glazed over. You were somewhere she didn’t know.
She was tired of it, worried to death, and lost. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled you into the water carefully, holding you as she rode to the Cove of the Ancestors. You came out of your trance, slowly but surely, but still drowsy and out of it.
She was able to coax you to enough consciousness to get you to dive under, connecting with the spirit tree.
She doesn’t know what you saw when you did. All she knows is that you hadn’t sleep-walked, or talked since. She knew you were special. A child she would never truly understand, but she loved and cherished you with everything she had.
She saw the way the animals around you seemed to move in sync with you, how the luminescence at night pulsed with your breath. She didn’t ask for answers. She loved you and she trusted the Great Mother.
But here you were again, standing at the entrance of their Marui, eyes glazed over, staring off into the stars. Ever since they’d let the Sullys stay, you’d been walking and talking in your sleep again.
It wasn’t as intense, thankfully, but it was enough to rouse her or her children from sleep every so often.
They worried for you. They took turns staying up, watching you, easing you back to sleep, careful not to startle you from your trance. During the day, they acted as if nothing was different. They knew you were different, but they loved you nonetheless. You were their daughter, their sister.
Ao’nung picked on you, teasing you and going out of his way to bother you. It was his way of showing his love, he joked. He had his moments. Picking you up in his arms and carrying you across the village to your mother for treatment when you hurt yourself on a spear, ignoring your complaints that it was your hand that was injured, not your legs, you could still walk! He ignored you, carefully setting you down in their Marui, lurking by the door until you were bandaged up and ready to leave.
Tsireya was easier. You got along with your younger sister without any problems, aside from the occasional spat that never went anywhere. You two were two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Hands clasped together, arms wrapped around each other. You were always together. It’s how you thrived.
Ronal and Tonowari, they never gave a second thought to the fact that you weren’t theirs, because you were. From the moment they’d set you down in that cradle, you’d become theirs. Their love for you was strong and unwavering. They called your name out with affection, they weaved you jewelry and clothes with love, they never let you doubt you were loved. They held you as you slept, as you dreamt.
And you dreamt. You dreamt every night. Of faces, of voices, of people you didn’t know, but knew.
By the time you woke up, your dreams were in blurry fragments, unable to be pieced together or made sense of.
Your family didn’t voice their worries to you. They saw how you flourished when interacting with their new clan members.
You were patient with them, guiding them through your way of life like it was the easiest thing to do. You blended in with them, conversing with the children so easily, it was as if you’d been doing it your entire life.
You and your siblings, Rotxo, and the Sully kids became somewhat of a friend group. Always together, at least in fragments. You felt as if your family had expanded.
The Sully kids adored you, especially Kiri. It was something about the way the two of you seemed to understand nature that connected you. And perhaps, your mysterious origins.
You confided in Kiri, and Kiri alone, about your peculiar birth. The whole clan knew, they’d witnessed it firsthand, but the story hadn’t made its way to the Sullys. Perhaps it was because it was accepted, no one thought twice about it, you were Ronal and Tonowari's daughter. No one thought to mention that, by biological means, you weren’t.
You told her how you didn’t know your biological parents. No one did. Abandoned at the Spirit tree, you were taken in by Ronal and Tonowari, raised alongside Tsireya, and essentially as Ao’nung’s twin.
She told you about her mother, a scientist who was beloved by their clan, who died during the first war against the humans. She was born from her Avatar.
Grace.
You spoke her name before Kiri told you.
An odd look passed her face. It wasn't until it dripped from your chin that you realised a tear had slipped down your cheek.
“I-i’m sorry, I'm just-” You strung together words, embarrassed and confused by your unconscious outburst. “It’s hard to speak about my birth.” You blamed it on that. Kiri accepted your words, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that felt warmer than anything else you’d experienced.
You grew a lot closer to the Sully kids. It was their parents who were odd to be around.
Jake and Neytiri didn’t know what to think of you. You were Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter, Na’vi, born and raised in the reef. Yet when they looked at you, heard your voice, all they could see was that little girl they’d loved.
They were going crazy. That was the only explanation. Driven mad by the destruction of their home and subsequent forced abandonment of it.
They wanted to talk to you. They ached to. But it ached just as much to do so. It wasn’t fair to you, their projections of grief onto you.
You were kind, you spoke for them when they first arrived, and you went out of your way to welcome them. You taught their children and defended them, taking them in as if they were your blood.
But every time they saw you, they were swarmed by a whirlpool of grief and relief.
“She speaks like her.” Neytiri would whisper one night, when all the children were off in the village attending a celebration, Jake lying next to her.
“Yeah.” He’d say, eyes locked on Neytiri’s face, watching as she wandered through her mind. Watching as a tear slipped down her cheek.
For weeks, they watched you, watching every movement and quirk you exhibited. How you spoke, how you moved through the walkways, your sense of humor. The way you scrunched your nose in a certain way when faced with food you didn’t like. It all pointed back.
Back to her.
That girl.
She haunted them.
A ghost following them around. One they thought they’d put to rest over a decade ago.
They had moved on. They grieved her, yes, but they had learned to live without her. Just as they did with every person they lost.
But she was back.
They thought it was in their heads at first, but the more they saw, the more they became sure.
Her body had disappeared, Neytiri recounted to him, a whisper under her breath as they watched you talk to Neteyam and Tsireya from afar. They’d left her at the tree like Mo’at demanded, abiding by Eywa's wishes. Her body was gone far too quickly to have been natural decomposition, and no creature would dare feast on a body wrapped in Eywa’s arms like she was.
They didn’t question it, too wrapped up in their grief to try and breach the topic. They simply accepted it. Eywa wanted her. She was with Grace, they believed.
But she wasn’t.
She was in the reef, living amongst the people, living.
They saw you, and they saw her. One in the same.
They’d grieved you, and now you stood right in front of them, out of their reach.
It tore them apart. They must have been going insane because you were not that girl they knew, you were not the girl they loved and doted on. But you were.
You couldn’t be.
But they watched and they watched and they saw. They saw her.
“It’s not her.” Jake’s voice was steel. Laced with a hardened grief.
“I know what I saw, you know what you see.” Neytiri defended, unsure of how to explain it.
He shook his head, pacing back and forth in the Marui, sliding a hand down his face.
“She’s a Metkayina! She’s Ronal and Tonowai’s daughter! That's it.” He spoke so certainly, as if he were trying to convince himself.
The two breathed heavily, working through their mind and hearts to get their words. Logic wasn’t making sense, but they tried to cling to it, both of them in different ways.
“Ronal didn’t give birth to her, nor did Tonowair father her.” Neytiris' words were heavy, like steel and stone. “A gift from Eywa, Ronal calls her.”
Their eyes met.
At this point, they were haunted less by you and more by the fact that you were back. It wasn’t easy mourning someone, learning to accept their death after having grown to love them so fiercely, to learn how to live without them. All of that, only for them to appear again.
All those walls they’d built, all the strength they’d planted in their grief, it was crumbling, the base of it all blowing away like sand in the wind.
It almost hurt more than the grief itself.
They simmered in it for weeks, speaking through glances and hushed whispers.
It was quiet that day. Jake was making his rounds through the village when he heard it. The humming. Not just the humming but the tune.
Slowly, he rounded the corner, peaking around the Marui, eyes landing on you sitting on the edge of the walkway, legs dangling from an opening. You sat there, beading an arm piece as you hummed.
You hummed the lullaby Jake had used to sing that girl to sleep. The lullaby from Earth.
He felt his chest crack open. He wanted to say something, to reach out and speak to you-
“Sempu!” You called out, spotting Tonowari walk up from another direction. Wordlessly, you held up your work for him, a smile spreading across your face as he approached and knelt down.
“Ah, this is great work, my little ‘itetsyip.” He leaned in, hand reaching up to pull it closer to examine it. He grinned, nodding towards you. “You are an exceptional crafter.”
Jake watched the scene, brows furrowing, a weight resting in his chest.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, bah! You and Mother praise me far too much.”
Tonowair simply chuckled, his hand moving to cradle your cheek as you grinned at him.
“No, we simply see how great you are.”
Jake started to notice more after that. He watched not just you, but your life. How you wandered freely through the village, greeting your clan members eagerly, your cheerfulness returned. You were surrounded by kids your age, all watching you with a mix of adoration and respect. You bonded with your siblings, giggling over inside jokes and banter.
Your parents were doting. They didn’t spoil you; they made sure you were responsible and self-aware, but they loved you, and they showed it. The more he watched, the more Neytiri did too; perhaps she’d been watching the full scene the whole time.
You weren’t alone.
You smiled so widely, and you never had to beg, you never had to work for attention or affection. You were accepted wholeheartedly.
You had everything you wanted here, Neytiri and Jake realized. You had everything they wanted to give you, and you didn’t have any barriers. You weren’t human or parentless. You moved about freely. You weren’t raised to expect to come second, third, or fourth place.
Neytiri and Jake had wanted to give you that life. But they couldn’t. They never could.
The Great Mother didn’t fulfill their desires to be the one to love you; she gave you what you needed. She gave you the opportunity to live.
It was bittersweet. You had the life you wanted. You were loved.
Just not by them.
And that was ok.
They’d lived their lives, they’d found happiness, a family, and they were good.
You’d found what you needed, even if it wasn’t with them.
[Robin x Vickie] [Background Reader x Eddie Munson]
Tired of watching Robin and Vickie dance around each other, you take matters into your own hands to give them a little nudge, with a little help from Molly Ringwald.
2.9k- Implied Bi-reader, sexuality, love is love. Steve’s an accidental perv. Reader has breasts. Robin is hopeless. Eddie Munson girlfriend. Timeline is all over the place but we are rolling with it. Reader works at Family Video with Robin and Steve (and Keith I guess). Sorry Steve.
For Val 🖤
"Ughr she's too perfect," Robin groans, running her hands over her face, barely missing her mascara as she slumps against the counter at family video, narrowly avoiding knocking over the selection of tapes piled neatly on said counter. Once again the conversation had drifted to Robin's sparse love life and her all consuming crush on Vickie Dunne.
"Robs, you're never gonna know unless you ask her," you say, absently moving the pile away from your clumsy friend, sifting through the tapes and sorting them into extra organised piles.
"Yeah great! I'll just swan up to her and ask if she's a lesbian! Do you know how mortifying that would be if she said no? Think of how awkward it would be after. I'd never be able to look at her again, I'd have to change schools, bow out of Hawkins, I'd become a town pariah," she mumbles into her hands, babbling as her mind carried her away.
"Or she could say yes and you would live happily ever after, riding off into the sunset like Danny and Sandy, except you'd both be chicks," you smile back, still sorting the tapes. She groaned in response, slumping down further against the counter.
"I just don't get it, sometimes it's like I can see that she might be gay but then ughr, I don't know," she mumbles, her hands waving about as she talks.
"I stand by Steve's theory, 53 minutes and 5 seconds is not a coincidence Robs," you say with a quirked brow.
"You're agreeing with Dingus?" She asks, sounding bewildered and slightly outraged. You admit that you were the last person to be agreeing with Steve, but in this circumstance his theory seemed bullet proof.
You shrug in reply, "the evidence all points to it sweets."
The bell above the door chimes, signalling a customer had walked through the door. Robin jumps as if she's been electrocuted, instantly standing to attention only to physically deflate when it wasn't Vickie. You however, lit up at seeing the familiar curls and worn denim jacket striding towards the counter with a large smile plastered on the face of the customer.
"Hi sweetheart, Buckley," Eddie smiles, leaning toward the counter to reach for your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss, nodding a greeting to Robin who had slumped back over the counter again in relative despair. "Always nice to see I'm welcome," he smirks at Robin's dramatics.
"She's in the middle of a crisis," you explain, reaching out towards your boyfriend for a kiss, which he gives without any hesitation.
"Vickie?" He whispers as you pulled away, to which you simply nod in reply. He shoots her slumped frame a small empathetic smile.
"You know, I myself have been in your precarious situation... from my experience you just need to bite the bullet and ask her Buckley," he says gently. She lifts her head and squints up at him, not quite shooting a glare but more of a pointed look.
"Remind me again Munson, how long did it take you to get the balls to actually ask her out?" She snarks, nodding her head towards you, her reply a little sharper than the situation called for.
"Fair point," he says in reply, partially agreeing and partially allowing her to be right.
"Sorry," she mutters, wincing at her own snark, before sighing again. "It's just not the same, you two were friends before, and you knew she was into dudes," she whines.
"Wait so you don't even know if she's into chicks?" Eddie asks, face showing obvious bewilderment.
"That's the problem!" Robin huffs.
"Well that does change things," Eddie mumbles absently.
"Did you wanna chose a movie for us tonight?" You ask Eddie, smiling gently as you gently try to steer the conversation away from Robin's torment. A grin washes over his face as he nods enthusiastically, bee lining straight for the horror section as you suspected he would. He selects one in mere seconds and brings it straight to the counter, a nightmare on elm street. You laugh, knowing that he'd only chosen it because you'd admitted to having a crush on one of the victims, which had lead to an array of teasing from your boyfriend.
"I finish at 7," you remind Eddie, smiling up at him as he wiggles his eyebrows, leaning in for a kiss.
"I'll be here sweetheart, already got the snacks ready and pizza will be ordered as soon as we're home," he says lovingly before collecting the movie off the counter.
Just then, the bell chimes again and in walks Vickie, blissfully unaware of the torment she was causing by simply existing.
"I'll take that as my cue to leave," Eddie mumbles, shooting a look towards Robin who was frantically smoothing down her hair. "See you tonight Sweetheart," he smiles, leaning in for another kiss before walking out the door.
You turn to Robin, seeing her stuck in a loop of hesitation and indecision and decide to step in.
"Want me to flirt with her, get a feel for how she responds?"
Robin's eyes blow wide at your suggestion, but you interject before she can point blank refuse.
"I'll be subtle, just test the waters," you say quietly. Robin battles with herself for a few moments before you add, "at least you'll get your answer."
"You're already labelled the town freakette because of your relationship with Munson, you want to be a rumoured lesbian too?" She adds, choosing her words carefully, a surprising move from Buckley.
You simply shrug again in reply, completely unfazed by the notion, "don't care what people think, we know the truth. Anyone stupid enough to believe I'm not completely infatuated with Eddie is completely blind. Plus, if I was a lesbian, I'd chose you not her."
Without any further prompting, you begin walking over to Vickie, who was stood looking through the romance section, the irony not being lost on you.
"Pretty in pink, that's a good choice," you say sweetly, approaching her slowly from the side as not to spook her. She turns her head, eyebrows slightly raising in surprise, either from your gentle approach or from your taste in movies.
"You've see it?" She asks timidly, flipping over the video tape in her hand to read the back cover.
"Yeah, I really like the brat pack movies, especially the breakfast club, that's definitely one of my favourites," you smile sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "you remind me of Molly Ringwald actually."
Her eyes immediately shot up to yours, wide and shining as she bursts into a wide smile, a blush creeping upon her cheeks. "You, you think so? That's so nice, I don't think anyone's ever said something so nice to me before," she babbles, one hand reaching up to play with her hair as she smiles widely.
"It's true!" You faux-giggle, "their loss I suppose, you're really pretty."
She looks up at you for a moment giggling as she tucks in her bottom lip to run her tongue over it, a nervous tick Robin had explained more than once.
"You're really pretty too," she says quietly as she looks at your face, to which you smile back, thanking her for the compliment. She suddenly looks down at the tape in her hands, trying to distract herself.
"So it's good? I love the Brat pack movies too, Sixteen Candles is one of my all time favourite movies. "
"Yeah it's really good," you reply nodding, not taking your eyes off her, to which she notices with a blush. "You know it's actually based off a song from the psychedelic furs?"
"I didn't know that," she says sheepishly, looking between you and the vhs tape.
"Between you and me, the movie kind of got it wrong though, the lyrics aren't about a literal girl wearing pink, at least not how the band intended," you say mysteriously, prompting her to ask the question.
"Then what does it mean? In the song I mean," she asks a little too quickly, hanging off your words. You try to act a little bashful and giggle slightly, leaning into her a little as you speak in hushed tones.
"Pretty in pink means pretty when you're naked."
Her blush deepens instantly and a sharp giggle falls out of her mouth, which she tries to cover with her hand. She looks scandalised for just a moment, her eyes wide in shock but that passes quickly as she giggles more and more.
A few moments of silence pass as you watch her, seeing if she'll spark the conversation back up.
"You know, I thought you were with Eddie Munson, I didn't think you were, um, you know into..." she trails off, getting tongue twisted in her bashfulness.
You flash her a smile, shrugging a little, "I appreciate great art, of all kinds." She nervously tucks another piece of hair behind her ear whilst smiling. "Like Phoebe Cates in fast times, she's gorgeous."
Her eyes immediately flash to yours in acknowledgment as she nods her head, "yeah she is," she says dreamily, her eyes wandering over to nothing as she daydreams, a blush filling her cheeks again.
"This is also a really great movie, if you're in the mood for a double feature," you smile, reaching down to pick up a copy of 'Johnny be good', the iconic high school movie which starred Anthony Michael Hall, a regular in the brat pack movies. She reaches for it from your outstretched hand and looks over the cover and back cover, reading the synopsis on the back. "I mean it's not John Hughes quality but it's still really great. Uma Thurman really grabs your eye, huh?" You ask, prompting a little with a flirty giggle.
"Yeah she’s really pretty," she blushes, not taking her eyes off Uma on the cover.
"You know she kind of reminds me of Robin," you say nonchalantly, trying to steer the conversation back to the original mission.
"Wow she really does," Vickie giggles, daring to look up at Robin behind the counter and back to the actress on the cover, before lifting her eyes again to linger on Robin.
"You know her from band right?" You ask, reaching up to play with a strand of my hair.
"Yeah! She's really cool and sweet, totally great with the trumpet, never misses a note and she's so insightful you know, just really, really great, I really like her," she babbles nervously, smiling as she talks about our mutual friend, giving you all the information you need.
"She talks about you, you know," you smile, raising your eyebrow slightly as her eyes widen. "She'd kill me if she knew I told you, but she likes you too." You didn't specify in what way, knowing that it wasn't your business to tell.
"She does?" She asks much too quickly. You nod with a knowing smile, watching her cheeks turn ever redder.
"Anyway, I'd better get back and help out, it was really nice talking to you Ringwald."
You turn and walk away, leaving her with her thoughts as she mumbles out a fragmented parting. You could feel her stare on you as you walk away and you sway your hips with a little more flair, only accentuating what you'd found out about the girl behind you.
"Well Buckley, good news and bad news," you say quietly as you duck under the counter, instantly grabbed by your elbow by Robin as she tried to get answers out of you.
"What? Why what did she say? Oh god she doesn't like me does she? She's a raging heterosexual, she's married, she's catholic, she has 7 children, she's..." Robin begins to babble as she holds me tightly by the elbows, her rings digging into me.
"Good news, she's definitely into chicks." You smile, watching Robin's enthusiastic smile spread across her features. "Bad news," you say, watching her smile fall. "She's clearly in love with me now."
"Ow!" You yelp, feeling her pinching your arm in retaliation.
"You still can't prove it!" Robin says with an exasperated sigh as her eyes never leave the redhead who's still browsing the romance section, only now with a smile on her face as she peruses.
"Okay I didn't want to pull out the big guns, but there's one sure fire way to know."
"What? What are you doing?" Robin asks, sounding panicked. You sink down below the counter and begin to open the buttons of your shirt one by one until your cleavage is noticeably showcased. You reach down to the girls and readjust them slightly in your bra, glad that you'd worn one so nice to meet Eddie later. When you re-emerge to regular height, you catch Robin's wide eyes as she focuses on your chest.
"What, why, what?" She stumbles through her words.
"Watch and learn Buckley," you say, turning to smile at Vickie as she approaches the counter with a nervous smile, holding out two tapes. Pretty in Pink and Johnny Be Good, as predicted.
You lean across the counter to grab the VHS out of her hands and give her your best dazzling smile as you ring her up, whilst her and Robin nervously acknowledge each other.
"Enjoy the movies," you say with a wink as she places them into her bag, preparing to depart.
"Bye Robin," she says timidly, lifting her hand slightly in a wave that Robin mirrors, despite being completely out of character for her. You force yourself not to laugh as Robin's eyes follow her dreamily all the way out of the store and into the parking lot.
"Well your plan didn't work," Robin says, dropping her face into her hands as she slumps against the counter.
"Who says it didn't?" You ask with a smirk.
She frowns, about to begin questioning you when you hear the door chime once again. Robin bolts upright as Vickie begins to walk back to the counter, her eyes fixed only on Robin.
"Hi, sorry I just remembered I forget snacks for the movie," she says quietly, girlishly laughing to herself.
"Oh!" Robin says excitedly, "they're like the best part! What did you have in mind we have jiffy pop, candy, boxes mints, huge party bags of chips that should come with some serious health warnings?"
"Oh I don't know," Vickie replies, "what do you like?"
"Huh?" Robin says with an open mouth, "me?"
"Whatever you like is probably good," Vickie says, smiling timidly as she tucks in a strand of hair at the side of her head.
"Oh, right, yeah, uh thanks, probably some sweet popcorn? I like anything sweet really, sweeter the better I always say."
"Would you like to watch the movie with me?" Vickie suddenly asks, cutting right into Robin's panicked babbling, stunning them both. Vickie looks horrified that the question had tumbled out of her mouth, and loudly at that, whilst Robin looks completely flabbergasted.
"With you?"
"Yeah, yeah," Vickie replies, sounding much more sure the second time she says the word. "Would you like to join me and watch a movie tonight if you're free? I can get some sweet popcorn?"
"I can bring it!" Robin answers a little too quickly. "I mean yes, yes that would be great."
"Great," Vickie smiles, both of them staring at each other silently for a few moments. God, did you and Eddie ever look like this?
"Great," Robin mimics. "I finish at 7."
"I'll come pick you up?"
"Great."
"Great."
The door chimes again and they seem to break apart like they've been caught cheating on a test, each jumping back at least three inches. The noise spurs them on into parting ways and you watch with pride as Vickie leaves once again, both of their stares lingering on one another.
"Please tell me your ways!" Robin says, shuffling closer to you and reaching for your shoulders. "How did you know she would do that?"
"Robs, my tits are on full display here, seriously no imagination needed. She didn't look once, she only looked at you. She likes you."
Robin gawks with mouth ajar for a few moments as she processed what you said before her face splits into pure elation. Her limbs flail as she does a little happy dance, her eyes far off and dreamy.
"Hello ladies- holy smokes!"
Both of you jump and emit a squark of surprise as a male voice suddenly appears beside you. You realise after a moment of pure panic that you'd completely forgotten about the door chiming and when your mind finally processed what it's seeing and hearing, you realise Steve had just clocked in for his shift. You turn to him now and see his eyes bulging out of his head as his eyes focus solely on your cleavage.
"Eyes up here, Harrington," you snark, enjoying the panic in his eyes when his gaze flicks up from rather obviously staring at your breasts and into your unimpressed eyes.
"I-." He fumbles his way through an apology, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but in your figure.
"Yeah save it," you smirk, reaching down to re-do your buttons on the blouse, casting a glance at Robin who looks a hundred miles away with a smile stretched upon her whole face.
"Robin," you say, drawing her attention back to you. "You really do look like Uma Thurman you know.”
Summary: He was standing alone. Without a dream in his heart. Without a love of his own. You wanted to fix that.
A/N: I got this idea while I was on the bus the other day. This song came on, and all I could think of was sharing an adorably awkward dance with this handsome man. Figured I'd share in the fantasy, lol
Warnings: fluffy and sweet lol
Waterboy wasn't used to black-tie functions, but as it turns out, that's the preferred style that SDN likes to go for with their seasonal parties. He would've preferred a beach party for the summertime, but a stuffy collar and a lavish but crowded banquet hall will have to do.
You're sitting alone at a table in the corner, dressed far more lavishly than anything you'd normally wear in the office. Your peers are scattered all around the hall. Some take advantage of the open bar, some stand by the dessert table laughing and indulging in tasty treats, and others are out on the dance floor. That's where your eyes lingered.
Waterboy's gaze, however, stayed on you across the room. It seems to do that regardless of what room you're in. He knew you wanted to dance. The longing was evident in your expression as you watched Robert dip Blazer before bringing her back up with a light chuckle. Even Malevola and Sonar were swaying like an awkward prom couple to the sounds of soft jazz.
"You can ask them to dance, y'know." Waterboy practically lept a meter off the ground at the sudden voice at his side. He could've sworn Chase was at the bar just a moment ago!
"Wh- Wha? Me? No no n- I couldn't- can't. Umm... Dance, I mean." He's damn near all legs, and yet they loved getting tangled up in one another. As much as he'd love nothing more than to hold your hand in his and sway to the beautiful music, he just can't handle being seen like that. Not to mention, his suit is entirely soaked through. He can't risk getting you wet. Not when you look so breathtaking.
"Do you really think they'll give a damn? Come on, now. They paid for the ticket, got all dolled up, and now it's being wasted because one wet little fella's scared he may step on some toes. If you're not gonna dance, why the hell did you even come tonight?"
Why DID Waterboy come out tonight? It was pretty inconvenient, all things considered. The ticket was a bit pricier than he'd normally like paying, and he had to buy himself a suit blazer since everywhere refused to rent one to him. Even still, he knew precisely why he came out tonight. He knew you'd be here.
"W- well... They happened to brin- mention it. Sounded... fun?" Even he wasn't buying his own answer.
"Well then, stop hiding by the dessert table and get your ass over there!" Chase puts a hand on his wet back before recoiling from the sopping wet sensation.
Waterboy sighs at the reaction and turns back to you, where he's shocked to find you're already staring at him. Normally, he'd break eyecontact swiftly, eyes finding the floor or pretending there was something more interesting in the room, but this time, he couldn't do it. Not when you flash him the most delicate smile. Chase huffs out his frustration.
"Alright, fine. DON'T ask them to dance. Y'all can just... stand here in silence, and give each other googly eyes all night." And just like that, he's walking away, muttering about "how ridiculous you're both acting."
With that, he's confronted with two choices: stay away like the "wet little fella" he is or go up and finally give you the night you deserve...
It wouldn't be too hard to slip out unnoticed, would it? He's just gotta look for an opening and- Oh god, are you coming over? Oh frick oh frick oh frick abort mission abort mission ABORT MISSIO-
"Lovely night, isn't it?" You stand side by side with Waterboy, both staring out at the dancefloor as more people join in the festivities.
"Huh? OH! Uhh... yeah, it's- it's uh... yeah." Suddenly, it's difficult to look in your direction.
"Uh, hey I was wonderin-"
"I can't dance!" Oh god, he blew it. You were gonna walk away thinking he was a weirdo. How could he even assume that's what you were gonna say anyway? Talk about presumptuous. God, he really screwed it up.
"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to go outside for a bit. Get some air? It's a bit stuffy in here." You want to go outside... Together?
"Oh. OH! Um... Y- yeah, sure. It- you're- IT'S pretty hot. In here!" (Careful, Herm. You ALMOST made a move there.)
You smile and grab his wet hand, stunning him at your lack of recoil, his heart now thumping at twice the speed. You usher him out through the back door where a small courtyard was tucked away. Nothing too spectacular, but the lush greenery and flowers laid out around the small garden were a wonderful backdrop. You stand with your back against the railing of the large stone patio, stairs leading down to the courtyard. Slightly muffled music flowed through the cracked door, stone ground illuminated by hanging string lights.
His heart doesn't get a chance to slow when you grab his other hand, putting it on your waist. At this point, he's not just creating puddles. He IS the puddle.
"Wh- what are you..." He doesn't understand what's happening, but he just can't get himself to pull away, either.
"I had a feeling you weren't gonna be a good dancer." Ouch. "But I also knew that there was nobody else I wanted to dance with tonight. I figured you'd be more likely to agree if we were away from prying eyes." It's embarrassing to admit, but you truly know how to make a grown man swoon.
"B-but, I'm still not- My coordination isn't really..."
"Well, I suppose we can figure that one out together." Your smirk was playful, but it just made him even more nervous. You lean your body forward, dangerously close to pressing your chest against his, faces mere inches from eachother as you whisper:
"Take me wherever you want to go. I'll follow your lead." You pull him towards you, and he stumbles in your direction, chest suddenly pressing against yours. The squelched sound is unmistakable.
"I- I'm so so so sorry! I didn't mean to press into you like that! I- I- I- I ruined your outfit!" Seriously, how could he make things worse at this point?
"Shhh shh shh, hey, Hermie, look at me. It's just clothing. This moment is worth way more than a silly outfit." And you meant it. He could see it in the way you looked at him. You wanted to be here. With him. You took in every single factor and still decided that this is what you wanted out of tonight.
The entire time he'd seen you around the office, every conversation, every look, every donut shared, his eyes had always whispered, "Please adore me," and you had finally heeded that call.
You pulled him back into your chest, uncaring of the moisture being soaked into your fancy attire. You spent the next... who knows how long, teaching him how to slow dance. His legs did get tangled, but when they were tangling with yours, he didn't seem to mind as much.
The moon hung above you, beaming down like a spotlight on your ungraceful union. You look ethereal in the golden moonlight. He has to physically refrain from leaning in, though it seems he may not have to.
You move the hand on his shoulder along his collar, his neck, and finally, his jaw. You can see the bobbing in his throat as he swallows his nerves. He sees your eyes dance between his own and his lips, asking a silent question. Instead of an answer, he plunges forward, lips firmly meeting your own.
The kiss is harsh and clumsy and could not be any more perfect. He pulls away as quickly as he swooped down, only to be met with you chasing after him. The second kiss is more coordinated than the first, learning and adjusting to each other. He never wanted this moment to end.
"Holy hell, is it stuffy in there! Robert, you got a -" just as you were about to let the kiss go deeper, out walk Chase and Robert, bow ties undone, pausing at the backdoor entrance as you and Herm freeze like deer in the headlights.
"Oh shit, our bad you guys! You two, uh... don't mind us, we'll go out the front." Robert tries to awkwardly salvage the moment for you two as he grabs Chase's forearm, muttering out a "come on, old man" as he drags Chase inside. Not before the old man can flash a quick thumbs-up Herman's way.
A/N: This one was kinda short, but I think it was very sweet 💕
Can I have a wholesome oneshot with Sonar/Civilian reader after the events of episode 8? (The route where Sonar joined the red ring instead)
Like the reader feels so betrayed hearing that he joined Red Ring, so now that he's back on the Z-team after defeating Shroud, maybe he's considering getting in touch with the reader again, apologizing after everything,
Then the reader decided to give it a 2nd chance
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟSONAR written by yaskore
warnings. ANGST!, lil argument, happy ending :p, language obv it's dispatch
a/n. I got carried away and made it angsty more than anything im sorry omgsh. and pls bare w me this is my first sonar fic and I haven’t wrote in monthsss
Scrolling through the newest article, his name lands in your chest the way it always does now—sharp, impossible to ignore. Except… this headline hits differently. It knocks the breath out of you, twists your stomach the same way it did that day. The day you found out.
"SONAR DEFECTS — RED RING CLAIMS NEW MEMBER."
The words still echo in your skull like a migraine you can’t shake. And after that day… you never heard from him again.
But now there’s a new article. Still his name. Same impossible weight. But a different world.
"SONAR RETURNS — Z TEAM WELCOMES BACK FORMER MEMBER AFTER RED RING DEFEAT."
Your thumb hovers over the screen, trembling. You knew about the fall of Shroud, of course—you kept up with every rumor, every shaky broadcast, every fragment of news, scanning the background of every clip, hoping, wishing he was alive. Hoping he was safe. Even knowing others weren’t, because of him. Because he chose that life. Because he chose this. Over you.
And yet, the second your eyes lock on the headline, the second you realize he’s okay—not locked away, not dead—something inside you splinters and shifts. Relief hits so hard it almost hurts. And immediately behind it comes the anger.
Anger at how fast people forgave him. How easily they said “welcome back” like nothing ever happened. Anger at the ones who spat venom, who treated him like he wasn’t human. Well, half-human. But still.
None of them were there, watching, waiting, worrying every night, replaying footage, trying to make sense of it all.
You’re still angry. Still hurt. Still carrying the version of him who left. But beneath it all, something fragile stirs. Hope. Tiny, stupid hope. The kind that whispers: Maybe this time he means it. Maybe this time he’s staying.
And you hate that you can’t stop listening.
Your phone vibrates. Familiar. Almost stinging. Every time you thought of him before, he’d text. But… you remind yourself that hasn’t been true since he left.
So then, you look.
And you stop breathing. Stop thinking.
His name—not the one in the articles—lights up your screen.
Victor.
The message is short. Simple. Something that would’ve been meaningless on a normal night.
"Can we talk?"
You just stare, dont even breathe.
At some point, the notification fades. It slides back into the phone, and it hurts more watching it disappear than it did when it arrived.
Your hands shake. You swipe down and tap it, just to be sure it’s real. Above it, your last unanswered, frantic messages stare back at you.
A hot wash of anger hits, then shame, then embarrassment, relief—all at once. You don’t even notice how long you’ve been staring until another bubble appears. Typing. Gone. Typing. Gone. A beat passes.
Finally, a half-buzz.
"Please,"
The comma hangs. It feels like he almost typed your nickname—the one he gave you the night you met, the one no one else ever used. The thought of him calling you that now freezes you in place.
You don’t even realize when you end up in the kitchen. Motion has always felt safer than feeling you guess.
You crack eggs too hard, spill sugar across the counter, forget to set a timer. Stress baking used to calm you down. Tonight, it just keeps your hands busy while your heart aches and your thoughts spiral.
You mutter under your breath as you stir, not talking to anyone really, hardly even yourself.
“He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to just—just text me and act like—”
You scoff, leaving the sentence unfinished. You don’t need to end it. Every unfinished thought ends the same;
I missed him.
The oven ticks. Cinnamon fills the air. And you’re still angry. You bury your face in your flour-covered hands, trying to breathe.
But you don’t get the chance to calm down before the glass door rattles. Your heart skips because of it's familiarity. Too familiar.
You freeze. No one should be up here, you're on the sixth floor. It's impossible. Not for him.
You already know.
Outside, on the balcony, wings half-extended, claws curling around the railing, is Sonar. In the version he always used to see you faster.
His eyes find yours through the glass, and it feels weird to look in them. They're not glowing with rage, not hungry with power. Not twisted like the Red Ring broadcasts. They're soft...painful. Almost unfamiliar. But only for a moment. Because you’ve never seen this much hurt in his eyes at once, it almost breaks you.
Time stretches. A long, fragile moment—neither of you moving, both breathing like it hurts, and you swear it does.
Until he shifts. His wings shrink, body folds into itself. The dark shape collapses into a familiar silhouette. Half-man again.
Victor again.
He lands on the balcony with a tired kind of grace, straightening slowly, smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie. His hands tremble slightly, though he tries not to show it. His expression is worn, shadows under his eyes. Sadness you don’t recognize. Vulnerability you didn’t expect. Yet… he also looks like himself.
It hurts.
He swallows once, voice low and muffled through the glass.
“Hi.”
It sounds, feels unnatural and practiced. He knows it.
When you finally exhale, let your eyes blink long and slow, you meet his gaze again with a sharper glare. He nearly flinches—a subtle twitch of his ear. And for a moment, you almost give in.
With a sigh, you move toward the sliding glass door. You stop just short of the coffee table, studying him carefully, scanning for wounds, but more so drinking in the figure you never thought you’d see here again. Your eyes sting at the thought, never seeing him again, imagining him broken beyond repair. Your chest tightens, the ache curling into your throat, and he notices.
He steps forward instinctively, hands twitching because he can’t quite touch you, and not because of the glass between you.
He says your name, low, and even though you’re closer, it’s like the glass thickened between you. You barely hear it, but you watch it form on his mouth.
His fingertips ghost against the glass, hesitant. You can feel the tension coiling in your chest. You can’t just stand here. You know he won’t leave without at least one word. So you move toward the patio, unlock it, and slide the door open.
Up close, the air carries him. Fresh night air tangled with that familiar cologne—your apartment would hold onto it for days after he left. But all you do now is glare, even when he looks at you with those eyes you always folded for. Eyes with a new scar trailing under one.
Because fuck, you’re furious. Distraught.
Because he came back the old way, the familiar way. Like he still had the right to.
Because some stupid, selfish part of you is relieved beyond words that he’s standing here at all. Alive. Breathing. Looking at you like you’re someone he still remembers how to miss.
Your voice is quiet—breaking—but it cuts.
“You don’t get to show up here.” You say it like it hurts.
He blinks, a small shake of his head. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want it to be.
His mouth tries to find words—opens, shuts, opens again—he hasn’t heard your voice in months. You get there first.
“You joined a group that kills people like me,” you say quietly, hard to keep your voice steady. It comes out slow, because you’re still trying to understand, to make sense of what seems like the impossible.
He reacts fast. “I would never have let that happen.”
He steps forward too quickly, eyes wide. You instinctively step back, and he freezes mid step, hand almost reaching for you before retreating. A micro flinch, guilt flickering across his features.
“You couldn’t have stopped it,” you argue, a thin laugh tearing out at the absurdity. “I could’ve crossed the wrong street, gotten in one of their ways, and been dead—just like that.” Your voice rises under the heat that boils in your chest. You feel it pile up your throat and suddenly you’re nauseous.
“That would never—”
“What the fuck makes you think you could’ve prevented that?” you laugh bitterly, disbelief sharp as glass.
“I would’ve figured it out,” he says, and the nickname he gave you slips out like muscle memory. It stings. “I would’ve kept you saf—”
“Your DUMBASS couldn’t have controlled SHIT in the Red Ring—” you snap, scoffing. The sound of your nickname, his nickname, makes something in you crack.
“Fuck—yeah, I got that now,” he mutters, voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, do you?” you shoot back. Sharp. He flinches again, doesn’t even argue, and it hits you harder than the words.
Silence falls. Cold from the open door bites at your skin. You look away, lip quivering before you can stop it.
Hearing his voice again—low, flat, beautiful, that dry monotone only you ever learned to read—hits you in a way you’re not prepared for. Most people could never read him, thought everything he said sounded the same, so they assumed he always felt the same, or nothing at all.
But you always caught the tiny shifts, the barely-there changes no one else noticed. And now you hear them again, slipping out before he can stop them.
It punches right into your chest—warm and awful and confusing all at once.
You force yourself to focus on the anger instead… because if you don’t, you’re going to fall apart right in front of him.
You swing a hand at his shoulder, pushing him lightly.
“Fucking prick.”
Jagged words—half anger, half relief, half everything unnamed. You don’t meet his eyes.
Until you do.
And then you see him; brows drawn, eyes soft, guilty, bracing for your collapse. He steps forward—instinct. You step back—reflex.
“You left me,” you murmur, trembling.
He exhales, defeated. “I was being a selfish dick.”
“Pft—yeah—”
He cuts in, desperate. “I wasn’t thinking. I—I wish I had some noble reason, but I don’t. I was angry. Blinded by it.”
He looks away, swallowing shame. Then a beat—one line that sinks everything.
“I thought I wasn’t worth being loved by someone like you… so I made sure no one could love me.”
Your chest constricts. The apology finally lands. Nothing else matters in this moment but that one truth.
“I know I fucked up,” he whispers, trembling in a way you’ve never heard. “I went back to what I knew. I told myself it was better than dragging you down with me. But it was just… me being selfish.”
“…Scared.”
His eyes lift to yours. Raw. Pleading. You can’t lie now.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
You stare. And then the ache rises—the one you’ve been suffocating since he left. It hurts. But it’s also relief. And grief. And something you can’t name.
You don’t fight it this time.
You step forward. A pause. Your hand hovers, half reaching, half uncertain. His breath catches. A beat passes, and then—into him. Into his arms. This is still where you go.
Your voice is barely there.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
His breath catches once, then he’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he loosens even slightly.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair. “Me too.”
One sniffle is enough for him to thread a hand through your hair—gentle, trembling. He holds you like he’s terrified of breaking this moment… or losing you again.
You slide your arms up his back, relearning his weight. Your palms trace upward, memorizing his warmth, his breath. Nights spent staring at ceilings, wishing to see him on the Red Ring News broadcast just to know he was alive—every memory collides with now.
Your chest tightens, a soft sob escaping. He feels it and lowers his chin onto your head, a kiss landing in your hair. His hands rub your back, coaxing calm into your shaking body.
He doesn’t let go. Not now. Not after letting go before, thinking it kept you safe from the Red Ring, from him, from the darkness he thought he had to embrace. Never again.
He swallows hard, grounding himself, hiding the silent tear you don’t see.
You back up slightly, hands sliding down his arms to his elbows. You tilt your head, meeting eyes full of guilt, hope, and softness reserved only for you.
Trust won’t snap back instantly. But relief is fierce. And right now, it’s enough.
“Don’t leave me again,” you whisper, raw. Inch by inch, letting the healing begin.
His lips twitch faintly. “I won’t be selfish ever again,” he says, monotone sincerity in every word.
You let out a shaky laugh. “I didn't ask that much from you.”
He chuckles quietly—half relieved, half giddy. “Thank god.”
You snort. He mumbles, adding on “—cause I dunno if I could’ve done all that—”
But your hand finds his, warm and grounding. You squeeze gently, leading him inside.
He shuts the patio door behind him carefully, almost hesitant, like measuring if it’s okay to be here. The apartment smells like cinnamon from your stress baking, and a faint trace of your perfume. He inhales sharply, anchoring himself to you.
You don’t speak. Just watch him. Alive. Scarred. Real.
Then the moment holds. It's warm and quiet, you want to bathe in it.
And then the kitchen chaos hits.
“Oh my god—” you gasp, rushing toward the counter. “I— I didn’t even— this place is a MESS, I’m so sorry—”
Flour everywhere. Cinnamon on the floor. Dishes piled. You panic-clean, rambling, laughing too fast, filling the silence.
He doesn’t hear any of it.
He watches you, memorizing this—the domestic chaos, your hair out of place, the way you move. Like he never thought he’d see this again. Like blinking could erase it.
A hand gently stops your reach for cinnamon. You freeze.
You look up. His eyes are soft, unguarded.
He says your name. The one only he uses.
“Thank you.”
The fragility in his monotone, the slight crack in his voice—it chokes you up.
“For being the only person who cared whether I was dead or alive.” His thumb brushes your wrist. Warm and careful.
“-Even when I went completely batshit.” He tries to grin, tries to joke, but you hear the truth beneath it.
Your smile trembles, and you feel your chest ache.
“How could I not?”
You lift a hand and stroke the fur along his cheek. Slow and familiar, with him leaning into it briefly like he used to.
“Never thought I’d feel that again,” he murmurs, smiling into your touch.
You snort and flick his face before he gets too comfortable. “Yeah, well—don’t get used to it.”
His face drops. “Wow. Quick turn.”
You cross your arms. “I contain multitudes.”
He shakes his head with a scoff, that same old grin on his face, wandering to the pantry like muscle memory. You realize exactly what he’s about to find.
“Oh, shit!” he blurts triumphantly.
“You got twinks!”
You go red, rushing to snatch them. “No! You don’t get to have these, mister!”
He stares, slow, knowing. He doesn't even try to snatch them back, his eyes are intently on yours.
“…Why do you have twinks?”
You freeze. His eyes narrow. Smug, almost predatory.
“Wait.”
A smile spreads.
“You—”
“I eat them,” you blurt, too fast. “Since you left—”
Silence.
His grin spreads, wide, unstoppable. “Oh-hoo— that is fucking adorable—”
He scoops you up, spins you. Flour is everywhere. You just squeal.
“PUT ME—DOWN—!”
He laughs, tightening his hold. His face buries in your neck, his breath warm and teasing.
“Secretly hoped I’d break in at night and raid your pantry like the villain I was?”
“No!” you giggle, squirming. “Shut up—!”
His nose brushes yours. “So you missed me, huh?”
You hit his shoulders weakly, laughing too hard.
“Are you in love with me?” he asks, voice teasing. His arms tighten, accidentally tickling you.
You try to hold composure. “No—!” You protest, a little too quickly.
But your body betrays you. Legs kick. Hands clutch his suit. You’re holding on for dear life.
Because even if you say you want him to let go, you’re not sure you could stand it
Summary: Hello! How are you doing? Hopefully great.
Just read your wayer boy x reader and i was melting from how wholesome it was!
If it's alright with you: can you write a wholesome one-shot or headcanon about waternoy and reader who's obviously in love or has a crush on earth other but haven't confess yet?
And everyone are betting on them like: who's gonna confess first?
Where are they gonna confess and who's gonna do the first kiss with money all over.
The entire building giving the vibe of
"JUST KISS ALREADY!!" 😂
But of course if you don't want to write it you don't have to 👍🏻
Have a nice day
Warnings: FLUFF!!! All of SDN literally on a cute bet between Waterboy x Reader. Oblivious attraction. Waterboy being a cute stuttering nervous wreck
AN: Thank you so much for the request @snipersiniora!! I hope you like it! (Ask)
WC: ~1,900
@hailmary-yramliah Masterlist
There hasn’t been a bet as big since the Z-team was trying to find out which superhero Robert—their dispatcher—used to be in his prime
This one, however, was different. More personal, profitable even.
The pool of cash amassed to $1,289 and it was deciding on which of the team was on par on the following three things: A) who will confess first? B) where will they confess? And C) who will make the first move to kiss? Their whispers, speculations, and theorizations were shared throughout the office space.
Many members of the Z-team and more had decided on their bets with hopes that sometime soon, they’ll be able to get their hands on the prize money for themselves.
You and Waterboy were completely clueless to the bet, and towards one another’s attraction. Your feelings for the superhero began when your day almost became a cautionary tale (literally) as you accidentally almost tripped and fell on a coffee spillage in the office floor, nearly flying straight into the superhero’s strong arms due to you completely missing the yellow plastic caution sign (darn you for keeping your nose in your policy manual rather than paying attention where you were headed). He caught you swiftly. Waterboy stared down at you, eyes wide, cheeks glowing pink under his goggles. Your faces were incredibly close. Close enough that Nightblade, who happened to walk by, gasped like he’d witnessed the finale of a romance drama.
“S-Sorry!” You blurted, practically springing out of his arms. “I was reading and—I mean— thank you— I didn’t—”
“It’s o-okay!” He said at the same time, his voice high-pitched, smiling so shyly it melted half the team who were observing from behind corners. “I’m g-glad I caught you.”
That very moment became the origin story for the betting pool of love.
And since then, you became close friends with one another, eventually realizing you were starting to grow feelings for Herm.
-
Everything between you and Waterboy seemed to blossom effortlessly.
Shared lunches. Inside jokes about policy manuals and slippery floors. The way he always offered you water before you even asked. The way you saved him the last donut whenever your dispatch coworkers brought them in from Granny’s.
Somewhere along the way the friendship blurred into something warmer that made your stomach flutter whenever he smiled at you. Sometimes even making your heart race when he brushed your hand by accident. You had feelings—obvious ones, apparently. To everyone except him.
And Herm? He was gone for you. He stared at you like you hung the moon every time you weren’t looking.
At least $20 dollars had already been added to the betting pool for ‘Oblivious idiots in love’.
-
Tuesday evening, after you and Waterboy were long gone, the Z-team and some coworkers who were in on the bet had gathered for a late-night briefing, one that Blonde Blazer hosted. It was easy to believe that it was a meeting to discuss any announcements for SDN, but really it was a cover to talk about their bets on you both.
Golem whispered to Invisigal, “My bet’s on Y/N confessing first. Probably during a mission. High stress. Emotional vulnerability.”
Invisigal shook her head in disagreement. “Nah. No way. Waterboy’s gonna crack first. Probably in the break room. I’ve seen him stare at his coffee cup like he’s imagining their wedding together.”
“I bet the first kiss happens on a rooftop!” Punch-Up chimed in. Robert agreed silently.
Malevola then piped up. “No, it’ll be an accident. A ‘whoops we bumped heads and now we’re kissing anyway’ moment.” Blonde Blazer seemed to agree to that but had her own different timeline as to when it would occur.
The rest, including other dispatchers all shared their own ideas on how the confession played out with the when and where’s when Robert decided to speak out. “Guys, please,” He sighed from the back, sipping coffee as if he wasn’t keeping track of a hidden side-bet spreadsheet. “Some dignity.”
But even he added a twenty when Waterboy offered you half of his muffin.
-
The next day during your break, Waterboy found you eating a plain granola bar at your desk.
“Hey. Uh-would you— are you… free?”
You looked up from your desk after mindlessly scrolling on your phone, a smile appearing upon seeing his presence. Quickly swallowing the dry grains, you cleared your throat before replying.
“Hermy! What’s up? Yeah, I’m free.”
“Oh! G-great! Would you like to join me for lunch? W-we can go check out that s-sandwich shop you l-like.” You happily agreed, never one to turn down food, considering your own lunch only ever consisted of snacks, and on the plus side, it was with someone you had a crush on.
You both head to Bubba’s Deli Shop, capturing a corner booth where instead of sitting across one another, you slipped in right beside him just close enough that your legs brushed beneath the table.
Waterboy fiddled with his straw wrapper. You traced circles on your napkin.
“I’m really g-glad you agreed to c-come,” He said softly. “I… like spending time with you.”
Hearing that, your heart slammed against your ribs.
“I like spending time with you too.” You said, voice breathy.
Waterboy’s smile appeared crooked—shy, warm, yet absolutely devastating.
And of course, at another booth across the café, the Z-Team was ‘subtly’ spying behind newspapers with eye holes cut in them.
Robert had binoculars.
“Move-uh your face motherfuck! I’m trying to see the wet noodle boy and his lover.” Flambae nudged Sonar for the newspaper to get a glance.
Malevola was growing impatient, just close to winning the bet if Waterboy were to confess and make the first move. She already had the deli shop down. She was ready to set her portal to the booth right next to you both where she could scold Waterboy to act like a man and finally spill out his crush on you.
For the remainder of their break, the team continued scheming on when the next time you both will be together.
-
When Waterboy asked if you could meet him in the courtyard after shift, you didn’t think much of it. He’d sounded nervous—adorably so—but that wasn’t unusual for him. Still, something in his voice had your heart fluttering all afternoon.
The courtyard was quiet when you arrived. Soft lights glowed along the stone path you walked along and to your right, the fountain trickled peacefully. The evening breeze carried the smell of flowers as it flowed past your direction.
And in the middle of it all stood Waterboy.
Fidgeting. Blushing. And holding… something. Actually, two somethings.
A large white box of donuts tied with a light blue ribbon. And a bouquet—bright, colorful, carefully arranged with your favorite flowers.
Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped closer towards him, yet far away to catch yourself from wanting to wrap him tightly in a bear hug.
“H-Hi,” He said, stepping forward. “Um… so… I, uh— I wanted to surprise you.” He swallowed hard, offering the donuts first.
Your heart warmed at the affection. “You did.”
“These are the ones you said you liked last week. The place had a long line but… I thought it was worth it.”
Then he held out the bouquet, hands shaking slightly like it was heavy for him (which clearly isn’t when he was able to catch you so easily). “And— I wanted to give you these too. Because they reminded me of you. Or you reminded me of them. I don’t really know how that works but—”
Cutting him off, “Waterboy.” You whispered, touched beyond words. “These are beautiful.”
“So are you,” He blurted, then immediately panicked, his cheeks maddenly red and hot. “I-I mean—! That came out w-weird— no it didn’t— wait—”
You laughed softly, stepping closer now. The lights reflected in his eyes, softening his usually anxious expression, his shoulders slumped like a saddened puppy and it was adorable.
“I think it came out perfect.” You replied.
He exhaled shakily. “Good. Because I-I wanted to ask you s-something. Something important.”
Your heart raced. He took a slow breath, but his fingers still fidgeted to help appease the anxiety racing within his chest.
“I-I really like you. A-a lot. And I was hoping— maybe— if you’d like to g-go on a real date with—”
“FINALLY!”
The bushes erupted.
People spilled out in every direction—the entire Z-Team, half the dispatchers, even Robert holding a clipboard like he was an officiant for a professional sport.
Waterboy jumped three feet in the air. You nearly dropped the donuts.
“WHAT—?!” Waterboy yelped, clutching the flowers to his chest.
Prism tumbled out of the shrubbery. “OH THANK GOD, I WAS CRAMPING IN THERE.”
Phenomaman pointed. “I called it that these two lovebirds would be outside in nature.”
Royd and Galen shared a look and both shook their heads in disappointment. They were both wrong in their own suspicions, ultimately losing out on the $1,289.
Coupe hadn’t cared much, only really sharpening her knives from afar while still watching the action unfold from the distance.
Blonde Blazer calmly approached at the front. “Please keep the courtyard intact during your celebrations.”
But one voice rose above the rest: “YESSSSS!” Chase yelled, sprinting forward and pumping both fists in the air. “PAY UP, EVERYONE! I TOLD YOU HE’D CONFESS FIRST AND THAT IT WOULD BE WITH FOOD IN THE COURTYARD!!”
He waved his winning betting slip like a golden ticket.
A chorus of groans echoed through the courtyard. Blonde Blazer approached him with the cash prize, congratulating him for winning.
Invisigal huffed out. “I swear, you’ve probably aged yourself into the future just to see what happens.”
Flambae, too, was disappointed. “This is rigged. It has to be rigged.”
“I had the rooftop written down,” Robert grumbled.
Waterboy buried his face in his hands. “I can’t b-believe this. I can’t believe they were all watching.”
You touched his arm gently. “I think it’s sweet.” You whispered, smiling despite the chaos.
He peeked at you through his fingers. “R-really?”
“Really. Besides…” You squeezed his hand. “You did confess first.”
The courtyard erupted in renewed shrieks.
“HE SAID IT! I HEARD IT!”
“That’s another ten in the pool!”
“No, the pool is CLOSED—CHASE WON, REMEMBER?!”
“UGH, FINE.”
Waterboy, flustered, adorable, and still holding the bouquet, turned back to you with a shy, hopeful smile.
“So… um… a-after all of that—” He gestured at the pile of cheering idiots. “Will you s-still go out with m-me?”
Your heart glowed. “Yes,” You said simply. “I’d love to.”
The team screamed. Chase held up the container of money like a championship trophy. Someone set off a party popper.
Robert muttered to no one in particular, “This is worse than when they tried finding out my identity.”
Waterboy leaned closer, voice soft just for you. “Can I… k-kiss you?” He asked gently.
You nodded. “Please.”
And under the courtyard lights—amid cheering, crying, betting, and total mayhem—Waterboy leaned forward, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in closer as he kissed you.
Chase continued to cheerfully yell, “I WON THE JACKPOT, BABY!”
You pulled back laughing, forehead against Waterboy’s.
“Should we be worried?” You joked. He shook his head, smiling that soft smile that first stole your heart.
“No.” He whispered. “We just made a lot of p-people rich and annoyed at the s-same time.”
And in the courtyard full of chaos, confetti, and coworkers celebrating like they’d won the Super Bowl, you held hands with Waterboy—finally, officially together.
Pairing. Robert Robertson III x female reader
Wc. 9.4k
Summary. You and Robert have been neighbors for a while but it wasn't until he asked you to babysit beef that you realized how handsome he was— You wanted to tell your work wife, Blazer, about it but things take a turn when she confesses to also liking him.
Content. Kinda slow burn not really, it just takes a while to get somewhere. Low key love triangle but ultimately ends with You and Robert. Lots of jokes because we joke to suppress our feelings as Chase said. Yearning and smut. You’re low key a gamer. A little bit of Reader x Blazer. memes and vines(hence the name) mentioned . Mutual masturbation, titty play, Robert giving you a show.
The sound of pounding on a hard material comes from the main entrance, jerking you awake.
“Hi, “ A stranger holding a small bed and a dog who follows along stand in front of you, you open the door slightly. “ I live next door, sorry for bothering you so late. Is it okay if you look after my dog for a while? I can pay.”
“What’s the name?”
“My name is Robert” The handsome, but still strange, man replies.
“I was talking about that cute guy following you but the other cute guy works too” Your smile showing, warmly greeting Robert.
“Oh, his name is Beef. I need to leave for a while and Beef said he wanted to stay with the pretty neighbor tonight, I hope that's not too much trouble.”
“Come on in beef” Beef approaches you as you crouch to his level,extending your hand in front of him; Letting him sniff it before petting his head.
“Thank you, I really needed someone for tonight.” You can see the desperation in his eyes, maybe he has a date tonight that he just can't miss— Although… It is midnight.
“Whats the big occasion?”
“Work called in, said they needed me urgently.” He sounds sincere.
“At midnight… right. You look desperate enough, I’ll believe your story.”
“Thank you.” He gives beef one last look before handing you his bed and leaving, the dog already making its way inside your apartment; sniffing around, licking the old juice stain off your sandals.
“You wanna watch a show with me beef” The creak of the closing door makes Robert turn to you again, dashing back to your door.
“Hey uhm— Do you mind doing this again tomorrow? Looking after beef, that is.”
“Whats the occasion then?”
“Uh, work is going to call late… again.” He said with a smirk on his tired face.
“Sure, he can come by as many times as he likes. Lucky for you, I love dogs.”
“Thanks, “ He gives you a gentle smile. “ Just don't feed him too much, he’s on a diet.”
“Oh I can tell.” Your laugh echoes down the empty halls earning an equally loud laugh from Robert.
“I’ll see you soon”
“See you soon, neighbor.”
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
Hours have passed and it is now 4 am, it was a Friday so you didn’t have to worry about dispatching heroes so early.
“Wait, so you called him cute? Like first meeting, just straight up like that?” A static version of Mandy’s voice makes you look at beef, wondering when his owner will return.
“I’ve lived next to this guy for months now and I’ve never talked to him before, the most we did was greet each other ‘good morning’ on the balcony. I had to let him know who the alpha was, ok?”
“You’re not an alpha first of all, this is not the omega verse.” You smack your lips loud enough for her to hear. “And second of all, how cute..? What does he look like?” She teases you.
“Uhm, like Mid white man fine, and I’m not gonna tell you.”
“The quirky white neighbor has changed you”
“No I just feel like he’s not your type”
Babysitting beef was like watching a movie with your best friend, you guys just sat on your couch and relaxed for most of the night. Until Mandy called asking to talk about her boyfriend, Phenomaman, and how she wants to break up.
“Well back to my topic, he just never sees me as Mandy. I’m only The Blonde Blazer to him, it really gets to a point.”
“Break up with that alien already” Phenomaman was very kind to you but you knew deep down Mandy never seemed happy with him.
“I will soon— I think… I’m going to bed, goodnight girlfriend.”
“Goodnight Blazie.”
Looking up to the ceiling you think about when you first met Blazer; The way her beautiful smile and charismatic personality engulfed you in a warm embrace. You guys met at work, she caught you day dreaming in the break room and asked what you were thinking about. ‘Thinking about how ass this coffee is’ was the only thing you said before she rushed over to sit next to you, agreeing immediately. You’ve been work besties since, you nicknamed her Blazie and she honored you with the title of her “Work wife.”
“Beef I’m a blink away from falling asleep right here on this couch.”
“Arf” His bark oh so coincidentally lining up with a knock on your door.
“Do you see the future…? Tell me if I get a boyfriend soon.” The couch shifts under beef as he jumps off, running towards the door. “Ok whatever, I didn't want the answer anyways.”
Stomping your way to the door you check yourself in the mirror first— “how did it get so messy” you thought while fixing your hair and then opening the door.
“Uh I'm looking for a cute thing, eats a lot, and maybe bites.” Robert’s voice is low, probably trying not to wake up the other neighbors as it is 4 am.
“Yep, I’m right here” An indent forms on your cheek due to you pointing at yourself.
“Yeah? You wanna come to my house and sleep on the cold floor?” Beef finds his way back to Robert’s feet, sitting next to them.
“I’m actually all set.”
“Thought so, “ A bag shuffles behind Robert as he searches for something inside. “I got you this. It’s just a small token for taking care of my dog— I can still pay if you’d like.”
Reaching over you find he has bought you a muffin, looks like a chocolate flavored one.
“Thank you. And no, I don’t wanna empty your bank account, how much do you even have in there? 20 dollars?” You laugh taking the Muffin and making sure to slightly touch his hand, ‘scoreee’ you celebrate in your head at the brief contact .
“I have about like, “ He pauses and pretends to think. “5 dollars.”
The halls echo with your laughter, no longer caring if someone wakes up.
“Well I think you should— “ The sound of vomiting stops you— Looking down you see beef, clearly tired, standing next to a small pile of throw up. “Come by more often.. Is what I was going to say.”
“Fuck it’s all over your carpet, I’m sorry I’ll clean it up in a bit— Let me just take this little guy home.” In the process of dropping beef off at his apartment you can hear Robert softly whisper to beef, “You okay buddy?” You can’t help but feel for the sick dog, you didn’t feed him anything, like Robert had asked, so you know it wasn’t your fault but still you feel bad.
“I got this!” You semi yell from your door. “Don’t worry about it, I can clean it up. Don’t worry about it.”
He waves and nods awkwardly, basically saying thank you in his own gestures. Trying to open the door with one hand, the other holding the beef’s body, he gives you one last look before closing the door behind him.
How do I even clean this up..? I’m just gonna put it in the washer
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
It has now been a week since you were formally introduced to Robert, babysitting beef has become a daily thing now— just different hours. You didn’t mind at all, seeing your neighbor and his cute dog? That’s a deal. Whenever you’re meal prepping for the week you make a couple extra meals, and then you go to your balcony where Robert usually is and toss him the good stuff— He doesn’t say thank you, instead he just asks about a game you were playing earlier that week.
“So did beef throw up before or after you told your neighbor to ‘cum’ by more often” The sound of mugs being grabbed came from the kitchen, Mandy was making some diy Starbucks coffee bullshit.
“For my sake I’m gonna say after” You replied lazily switching the channels on your TV. “And then after that he took beef home and I told him not to worry about it much because ‘ I can clean it.’”
“This tastes like ass” The floor creaks under Mandy’s foot, bringing her coffee over to you. “But you promised to try it so.. Here”
“What flavor?” You take the cold mug in your hands.
“Iced peppermint mocha” She says making a face you can’t quite read.
“Wow this is horrible— Can you pick something for us to watch, I can’t decide.”
“Sure.” She takes the remote from your hand, spamming the ‘next channel’ button until something catches your eye.
“Wait go back” The TV lighting up your face as you stand up and walk closer to it.
“No way….”
“BREAKING NEWS: The Mecha Man suit has been found in a state of irreversible damage. The fight took place at the Steel Mills, Llewelyn works.Shroud and the Red ring may have been involved, Mecha man was found unconscious and with possible head trauma”
The silence that falls in between you two is a clear sign of how serious the situation is.
“Wait, I forgot to tell you something.” Plopping back down to the sofa you turn to face your best friend. “My neighbor, He told me— “
“Are you seriously talking about your neighbor right now?” Beef jumps up from Mandy’s lap at the word, he thinks Robert’s name is neighbor since you always call him that.
“I think he’s Mecha man.” The TV shuts off, darkness now envelops you except for the small glow coming from a nearby candle.
“Are you serious…” She talks to herself.
“He told me today that he might not come back to get beef for a while, lets think about it; He always leaves at night for ‘work’, he says work called late but hes home during the day meaning he doesn’t even work, and he low key looks like him… bottom half of his face wise.”
“Well I don't know what he looks like but…” she grabs both mugs bringing them back to the kitchen to wash them. “I don’t think your neighbor is Mecha Man— Sorry.”
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
4 months have passed and your neighbor is back, surprisingly, and he took beef back. You’ve been taking care of him the entire time he was gone, suspiciously enough Robert returned the day Mecha Man appeared on TV again.
Last day of the work this week and you’re excited to start the day. Birds fly by the overhead and the wind pushes your hair back freely. “Damn it's beautiful today” You say to yourself, pushing the doors open to SDN.
“She’s definitely not making it to band practice” The familiar voice catches your attention.
You turn to look for its owner only to make eye contact with the Mecha man. Gulping you make a dash for the office area, in fear you would recognize the man under the mask.
The sound of typing and sipping fills your ears just as you make your way over to your cubicle, chasing already there in front of you. His cubicle was located southwest from yours, so sometimes you would just pop your head over the divides and ask him for help.
“These fucking idiots”
“What happened now, Chase?”
“Just doing stupid fucking villain shit”
“So the usual…” The work day barely started and he's already complaining but before you could even say anything he leaves to god knows where.
You start off your day by having a chat with your team, you’ve been with this team for a long time and you’re now considered their therapist in a way— You didn’t mind the work you did, it was in the job description after all; Rehabilitating ex villains.
You still had a couple of minutes until your shift actually started so why not hit up the vending machine, get a little snack.
*beep beep beep beep* The vending machine spits out your snack, broken into pieces from the fall.
“Hey girlfriend.. Have you seen the new guy I hired?”
“No, I haven’t” You look down at your snack, disappointed.
“He’s sitting in front of you so if you can, please help him.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Blazie” you don’t need to look at her to know who it is, nobody else calls you girlfriend around here.
The crumbs licked clean off your fingers as you made yourself comfortable on your chair, your cubicle was decorated with pictures of you and Blazer— which was not done by you but rather your work wife, she said it was so nobody steals you from her.
“Hey team. This is our dispatcher, Robert Robertson. I’m starting my first shift–”
Are you fucking serious.. That’s definitely my neighbor’s voice
You can almost make out what his “team of idiots”, as Chase calls them, is saying through his headphones. Not that it really mattered because you’re pretty sure your theory was right, this is Mecha man aka your neighbor.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
Earlier today you had received a text from Mandy, what was she doing at almost midnight? You don't know.
Work wifey aka Mandiee
I’m gonna make this brief but I just did a very unprofessional interview at a bar which then ended up at the top of a billboard overlooking the Hollywood sign.
You
Bro what the fuck
The phone’s bright light bounced off your confused face.
Who did she just try to hire…
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
“Clear the channe–”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Let me remind you! These calls are fucking recorded for training fucking purposes! So keep the fucking line clear.” Yeah you know chase very well, he can’t go one minute without cursing.
You try to not listen in too much on the new hire’s conversation but it’s a bit hard when Chase is always yelling— but you digress, answering your calls is easy. Your team trusts you completely and knows that you’re not trying to fuck them over, therefor they do exactly what you ask them to do.
The first shift is always easier, you like to think it's because the villains haven’t woken up yet.
You find yourself in the break room, again, this time warming up the meals you prep— you gave Robert some meals when he came back to get beef.
“Hey” A voice comes from behind you.
“Hi?” Turning around you’re met with none other than your neighbor, Robert.
“My name is— uhm”
“Your name is Robert.” The microwave beeps as you turn around to take your food out.
“You work here? This whole time?”
“Was I supposed to tell you, Robert? You never asked me, so.” You pull a chair out, putting your fork and meal down then sitting.
“Well you’re not really the talkative type, are you?” You notice he’s holding the meal you made him.
“Did you make that?” Sarcasm dripping off your tongue.
“No, this really hot neighbor of mine made me this meal. You wouldn’t know her”
“Fuck off bro” You chuckle putting your hair up.
“Did you cut your hair or something? Whenever you put it up it makes you look— Pretty” The microwave slams shut, his meal now warming up.
Standing up you twirl in place, giving him a full 360, his smile growing by the second.
“You shouldn’t say that, Robert, what if your neighbor finds out you’re talking to me like this?”
“She would understand if she saw the way you look right now.” His food now ready and steaming hot.
With your foot you push the chair in front of you, gesturing to him to sit with you.
“How long have you been working here?”
“About a year now. You just got hired, right?”
“Yeah, I got ‘interviewed’ a little bit ago.” He says, making air quotes with his fingers.
“Hm I might’ve heard about it.”
“I would hope not. Anyways, now that I'll be seeing you way more often, can I have your number?” His phone appeared next to your hand, he's fast you thought.
“Yeah, can I make my name ‘Fav neighbor’?” His phone slides into your hands as you type away.
“You’re the only neighbor I know so, yeah sure.” He chuckles when you give him back his phone.
“Also your cubicle is in front of mine so, If you need help— let me know.” You squeeze his arm as you make your way out, the container that once had your food now tucked away in your bag.
His eyes follow you out the door.
You need to tell Mandy about this.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
“Hi gorgeous” The pet name rolls out effortlessly.
“Hi girlfriend,” Blazer replies, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You alright?”
“We need to talk, code M” You say excitedly, eyes widening to emphasize the situation you’re in. (code M for Mandy so she knows its serious)
“Lead the way” She gives you her signature smile.
With a mug in hand and your favorite snack you lead blazer to her office, pulling her chair so she can sit.
“What a gentleman” She giggles at your enthusiasm.
“Ok don't make fun of me, alright?” The door slams shut against your hands. “you know the new guy you hired? yeah so he’s my neighbor, the one i told you about.”
She looks tense, like she’s seen him before— you took a mental note of that
“Yeah so we were talking in the break room and he said ‘did you cut your hair or something? whenever you put it up it makes you look— Pretty’, ” A piece of your hair settles on your shoulder as you play with it. “I gave him a little 360 just to show my hair and he had a big smile on his face; I know this isn’t crazy lore but there's more.” Your eyes shift around the room as you recall the memory.
“Th— That's really sweet of him” She flashes you an awkward smile.
“I know right, he's so patient with me, he doesn’t even care when i talk for like hours— But anyways then before I left he asked for my number, which isn’t crazy, maybe he just wants to be friends” Your fingers fiddle with each other, pessimistic. “but yeah I was planning on I dont know— fucking on him? is that appropriate to say even?” A giggle escapes your mouth. “I think I’m starting to like him. Can you imagine that?— dating the new guy?”
“What—? I mean I wouldn’t… mind it, you know?” She replies, chuckling the awkwardness away.
“Oh fuck… you like Robert?” Your tone bouncing between playful and defeated.
“He also asked me for my number, yesterday actually” She looks down as if to avoid your envious ones. “The guy I took to the bar and then interviewed in front of the Hollywood sign, that was Robert."
“What the fuck mandy, thats who you were talking about? My mid white neighbor” you laugh trying to lighten the mood, knowing deep down you feel a little silly thinking you actually had a chance. “Are you guys a— thing?”
“We’re not" She exclaims a little too fast. “I actually asked him to go on a date with me today, you know, for the SDN after party. I hope you don't mind.”
“No, it’s fine. Has he seen your dress yet?” You say, eyeing her down, her curves fitting perfectly in the navy blue dress.
Sometimes changing the subject or the way you react to certain situations makes it easier to persuade others into not asking how you're truly feeling, and for an introvert like yourself, it is better to just not talk about it.
“Oh yeah he actually saw a little more than my dress by… accident” Her face becoming a light shade of pink.
“Right, whatever that means…” muscles tensing up. “Ok well tell me everything and… good luck, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Will do girlfriend.” She smiles as you slip away from her room.
Just as the door closes behind you, you see him—standing there just chatting away with Chase holding his dog, he seems a bit tense, he's not alone on that one.
Oh well you wanted to see beef, so you walked over to them. “Hii beef” You baby talk beef while your hand scratches his belly, Robert's fingers petting beef’s head— He’s in dog heaven right now.
“Hi pretty neighbor” A gremlins voice forces you to stop your adoration of the beef to look at Robert.
“I imagine beef sounds more like Hugh Dancy post twink death but whatever the fuck that was will do” Your laugh echoing in the empty room. “how was your first shift?” your hand slightly moves from beef’s belly to his ear, fingers inches away from Robert’s.
“Well I just introduced myself to the team minutes ago and so far it has been okay.” He sighs, pulling his hand back to his side but not before touching your fingers slightly.
“From my experience the more you get to know your team the more they trust you. I know they’re a bunch of villains, Chase” You sing out while making eye contact with the older man before diverting it back to beef. “But I believe there's good in their hearts, at least some of them. You just have to believe in them.” Your eyes meeting Robert's gentle ones, you look away first feeling a bit of tension.
“I know” He leans towards you, finding your gaze again. “Thank you for the advice” That smug look that he always wears makes its appearance again.
“You're welcome, pretty neighbor” You mimic the way he said it earlier in that awful gremlin voice, shaking your head side to side.
Today was a strange day but tomorrow is probably going to be even stranger.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
“Wait” Blazer exclaims
“Sure… What’s up?” He replies, slowing down his pace.
“This isn’t what I look like” Her navy dress highlighter by the candles nearby flow with the wind.
“I don’t totally know what you mean, but, okay?”
“The powers make me… Doesn’t matter, I'm just going to show you.” The blonde blazer’s eyes roll as she reaches behind her neck, gently touching the clasps of her necklace. “Are you good with that?”
“I… Have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen, so this is very exciting.” His response egged her to continue.
“Temper your expectations” As she removes her necklace her body begins to hover over as the light rays appear around her; the rays consume her whole, the sparks becoming unbearable to the human eyes obligating Robert to cover his..
She settled back down; now with brown hair, her mask in hand, and a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry.” Robert chuckles.
“You’re disappointed?” Her voice is low and timid.
“Are you kidding?” His eyes follow as she comes down to his level “I can’t tell if— Are you joking or am I joking?”
“It's a big difference!”
“You’re, what? Two inches shorter?” His hand linger in the air, motioning at her height.
“And a brunette. Come on, it’s— Okay if I wasn't called Blonde blazer, I wouldn't be so self conscious about it.”She grabs at her side waiting for a response. “People have expectations and they never meet me first.”
“Why care about what I think?” He answers honestly
“Because I like you… And I think you like me too” Eyes meeting each other, exuding different emotions
“Oh I—“ His hand scratches the back of his neck, clearly taken back “I appreciate you being honest with you but I don’t reciprocate those feelings. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, I apologize.”
The atmosphere is heavy with tension.
“It’s okay I misunderstood the situation, I’m sorry about that. My name is Mandy.” she said.
“Nice to meet you, Mandy. You look good as a brunette”
“Ah thank you, my wife thinks so too” A slight giggle reaches his ear at the thought of the nickname..
“Your wife?” Robert looks puzzled.
“Yeah, your neighbor” Mandy tucks her hair behind her ear smiling thinking about how many times you’ve taken care of Mecha man’s dog. “Beef’s babysitter?”
“Hold on, you're the woman she’s always calling late at night?” He questions, eyes wide open.
“Yep” Mandy's eyes softened, reminiscing about you. “She told me about her handsome neighbor,” she wiggles her eyebrows at Robert at the mention of your compliment. “You wanted her to babysit beef during the night, I wonder why only nights.”
“Oh you know, I just wanted to go on some easy missions like finding Shroud.” He huffs at the obvious sarcasm.
“How do you feel about— about her?” Mandy motions at a table nearby with Michelin star meals waiting at the table.
Robert sits down taking in the sight of the super luxury meal in front of him. “Oh wow you went all out, huh? How much was all of this? $20?” A chuckle slips past his lips.
“Around that much. Gonna answer my question?” Her gaze never meeting his but rather focused on the meatball in front of her.
“She likes to hang around the balcony often and so do I. We often talk about life— I like asking her about the games she's played the night before, it's not like I spy on her I just overhear her on the phone with you; yelling about someone, begging you for heals. I’m glad you keep her company.” he reaches for the fork, taking a piece of meatball to his mouth and chewing it slowly. “shhs very lone—mmph—ly in there” talking with his mouth full
“That's disgusting… and what do you mean lonely?” Mandy’s face contorting at his manners
He swallows the rest of his food before speaking again. “She lives alone— I assume, I mean I never asked; She listens to music out loud, watches TV way too loudly at 2 am, and she always brings me extra food. Sometimes I think she makes extra just to see beef… or me.”
“Hopeful thinking, huh?” Mandy says.
“Well she's a lonely motherfucker, like me, so some hopeful thinking is definitely a way to describe it. I usually come to pick up the beef around her bedtime so she doesn’t talk much.” He thinks about taking another mouthful of meatball but ultimately decides not to. “But if I talk to her any other time she's pretty extroverted, I think she has the touch of the tism or something— once you get her to talk about something it either lasts an hour or 8”
“Shes told me some stories about you, like when you disappeared for 4 months just like Mecha man..”
The food was no longer appetizing to him. “I left beef in her care the night I went after shroud, I figured she would've gotten suspicious at how long I was out; didn't think she was gonna turn into a detective and calculate how long me and Mecha man were out, but she never told anyone or so I thought” Looking at Mandy he chuckles “She’s my favorite neighbor.”
“And you guys are not dating… because?” Mandy adds on.
“I dont fucking know… my life is so busy as it is, I guess I'm just afraid of not giving her enough attention— you know with being Mecha man and all.” The sky reflects against his eyes as he looks overhead. “I don’t know, maybe it’s all too soon.”
“I understand that but she works for SDN, she's used to heroes and villains. And ‘too soon’? You guys have been enjoying each other’s company on that balcony for like months now. Look if you want dating advice I can help.” The corner of her mouth shifts up
“Oh, you can help me? The one whose boyfriend was literally an alien with ‘out of this world genitals’?”
“I am human unlike him, so that qualifies me to give you love advice. Maybe you should pretend to be just another dumb male, you know? pretend you don’t understand how to do your job and hang by her cubicle, throw in a little flirting if you’re feeling it.”
Mandy’s advice lingers in the air for a while before the silence is cut abruptly.
“So what you’re saying is I should flirt, at work mind you, and also pretend I don't know how to do my job— And wait a dumb male?”
“That’s her type, yeah. I guess she likes handsome losers, just like me.”
“Right.”
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
Footsteps echo outside your door, almost like someone is walking back and forth in front of your door.
Looking through the Peephole you see two things: Robert and Beef, your two favorite visitors.
“How can I help you sir?” The door swishes open and a cold wind flies in.
“Jesus” Robert exclaims, surprised at the speed at which you opened that door.
“Don’t think you’re supposed to say that guy’s name in vain.” The door frames' coldness soothing your head as you lean against it, arms crossed. “Did you wanna see me?”
This feels wrong, you know he just came back from hanging out with Blazer; What if they’re dating, what if they kissed? You’re just here standing in your night gown, probably harassing him.
“Yeah, is it that obvious?” He smiles fondly. “You know.. you’re always giving me meal preps for the week and I thought you would like this.” From a small bag he pulls out a plastic box. “I actually ate some of it so…”
“Are you fucking giving me leftovers?” Your jaw is on the floor.
“They’re not leftovers if I didn’t consume almost all of it.”
“Ill accept your offer to indirectly kiss me, Robert, thank you.” The flirty joke instantly hits you like a sharp knife. pulling out the plastic that was stuck to the plate you take a bite, trying to avoid his eyes— You don’t want to see how he reacted to that joke.
“Do you—” he stares at your big puffy cheeks, mouth full of meatball. He watches the way you nervously let your eyes wonder, trying to avoid his own. “I see you’re enjoying the meal already, I’ll leave you to it. See you at work.” His back which was once resting on the wall pushes him off, waving goodbye.
Did I say something wrong.. They must really be dating for him to leave so suddenly.
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
The next two weeks were composed of the same shit happening over and over again. You would go into work, Robert would hang by your cubicle and take notes, and then go back to his desk. It was pretty uneventful until one day you noticed just how much he would talk to Blazer. It’s normal for a couple to talk a lot you thought, they’re so definitely dating, fuck!
There was no other way to explain how close they were, everything they did made you feel less than. One day you’re his favorite neighbor, the other you’re just someone in the office he takes notes from.
Blazer hasn’t texted you either, even though you asked her to, about the ‘date’ with Robert. Your first thought is, she's probably not gonna tell you because you might feel jealous.
Little did she know you planned on feeling the exact opposite. From now on you’re going to only talk to Robert strictly at work and about work, no more flirting, nothing!
As the days go by you try your hardest to not interact with him.
“Hey, how did you do that?” A ticklish feeling alarms you about the presence of a certain someone whose chin is on your trapezius.
“What is wrong with you, man?” You jerk your shoulder trying to make him leave.
“Just tell me how you did” He refuses
“Do what?” Trying to get this grown man off your shoulder was a difficulty but what was worse is that Blazer is watching you from afar. You spot her staring from her room, she's like a hawk.
“That thing you just did” He asks once again, now pointing at your screen.
“Uh— like this” He leaves as soon as you’re done explaining.
Oh shes gonna fucking kill me
You wouldn’t be surprised if she texted you right now like “what are you doing with my boyfriend?” but nothing came of it. Strangely.
Robert always seemed to be reaching out to you at work, leaving subtle hints like: bringing you into a convo, getting you coffee, bumping into you and smiling like a kid.
He's either making fun of me or I'm crazy.
The same events happened throughout the week, each infuriating you even more. Your feelings were a mess; You’re angry Mandy hasn't texted you since the date or at all even, jealous of their interaction, envious of their relationship and how well they work together. Everything was overstimulating you. We all died in 2020 and this is indeed your own personal hell.
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Another day Another fucking humiliation ritual for you.
The first shift of the day went by a breeze, you in your cubicle and him in his. He’s usually always near you, saying he doesn’t understand how to do certain things on his computer; his usual bullshit excuses to talk to you, which in your head just looked like he wanted to make sure you weren’t being left out.
You wanted to talk to him, to see him, do anything; But the guilt held you back. Her words spiraling in your head.
“What—? I mean I wouldn’t… mind it, you know?” “I actually asked him to go on a date with me today, you know for the SDN after party”
It was clear in your head, they were dating.
She was your only friend at SDN, the only one who was there when you were at your lowest. As much as you despite showing affection to others you can't help but want the best for her; even if the best just so happens to be your favorite neighbor.
Sighing yourself back into reality you look around— Determined to keep your feelings away.
You catch a glimpse of Robert as you push yourself up from the uncomfortable office chairs, he makes your heart ache just thinking about everything you insinuated to Mandy in the conference room not knowing how she felt.
And there she was… standing next to him.
Everything she did sent you into a small fit of envy; Sudden touches, flirty glances, the way she leaned into him with every laugh.
These feelings developed in the absence of your consent, gradually swallowing you whole.
You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to feel like you were trying to steal her man.
At first you tried ignoring them, ignoring her. Keeping your head held down —ashamed— as you drift by them, it didn’t work as Robert would always kindly invite you to join the conversation. So oblivious to the fact that you were so guilty-ridden. It felt nice being included in their conversation even if you weren’t meant to be included in it; the topics were always about something they did together, privately, there was nothing you could add to the already pre made 2 person convo.
You haven’t done anything wrong but knowing that you are always accidentally there, actively ruining her chances to coquetting with him; It makes you regret your feelings for him.
Tears swell up in your eyes as you look at your feet, shamefully kicking them periodically until the urge to hide forces you to withdraw from the conversation.
‘Excuse me“
stumbling until you find yourself in the bathroom, you hope no one is inside the stalls. stopping to think about how strange that probably was for them; just seeing you cry as you walk away.
“Why am I even.. crying?”
the familiar salty taste of tears gathering on the small bump of your lips, enticing you to lick it away.
It was so humiliating being there , enjoying their warmth, and chuckling along as if you belong to the conversation. Robert probably felt bad leaving you— The lonely neighbor— stranded, third wheeling.
“That shit was so embarrassi- ing” The lump in your throat interrupting your whispered sentence.
It was strange crying over; a friend, a crush.
What a strange feeling it is to feel guilty for loving another, for desiring something. It was horrifying realizing the person you had become— feeling so jealous of your best friend and her relationships. Envious of how well they worked together, how flawlessly their conversations went. You don’t want to hurt her but neither do you want to deprive yourself of experiencing the joy of having a crush.
“Where did you go— What happened? Are you okay?”
Her captivating and charming voice chimes in from behind as well as the cold air conditioned wind from the hallway.
“‘m sorry Blazer.”
You swipe your tears away as you feel the warmness of her subtle embrace around your frame.
She is always so nice, warm, and caring. always so graceful even out of costume, a beautiful soul who was deserving of love.
“It’s alright… What happened? Please tell me” smooth textured gloves squeeze your hands in an attempt to comfort you.
“I’m just so fucking lost.” Shaking your head you look into her diamond colored eyes beside you.
“I’m so jealous of you.” A chuckle escapes your own dry lips.
You struggle to escape her strong arms but you eventually make it out, turning to face her. “You’re so perfect, so caring, so emotional… you’re so much better than me. This is so silly coming from me, I know you know me as the — “Ms. Don’t give a shit”— but I do care Mandy. I just wish Robert would look at me the way he looks at you, the way he always seeks to make you laugh, the way- I wish he would notice me the way he notices you. But now you guys are dating and you didn’t even tell me” You sighed as your hand softly slaps the back of your head.
Standing there —stunned— her shoulders tense as if trying not to startle you.
“I’m sorry I— I even made you feel that way. And we’re not together.” she exclaims
Looking up through your teary lashes you see her smiling- no, chuckling.
“I shouldn’t have kept this from you, I wanted you to find out by yourself but I see that has caused you great distress.”
Your hand is taken in by her clothed one as she guides you into her office; your
Coworkers too busy to notice you walking by.
“close it please” she insists as she waves at the door excitedly.
“Tell me what blazer? I think you misunderstood me.. I like Robert, like the guy you said you wanted to fuck 3 week ago?”
Chuckling she exclaims “Stop it you’re making me feel bad. Take a seat” She taps the table almost too eagerly
“alright..” You wipe the chair before sitting down
“So I talked to Robert 2 weeks ago about my uh— feelings.” she looks shy
“Oh you… did? how did it go?” she can't help but notice the sadness in your eyes, sad puppy she thinks.
“He rejected me” a smile plastered across her face
“I'm so sorry Blazie” Sadness and empathy should've been the feelings consuming your heart right now but the only thing you can feel is hope; hope that he will give you a chance, hope that maybe you wont hurt Mandy with your relationship.
“Oh I can tell how happy you are!” she laughs wholeheartedly “It’s alright traitor, I’m not mad at you” her tone playful with a smile to match.
“Ok first of all I tried my best to keep it together, bitch” You protest by raising your hand as if pleading the fifth
“Yeah I saw how you kept you composure when he put his chin on your shoulder the other day” She giggles leaning back in her chair
“Oh my god I literally started sweating when he did that, why would he do that to me?” The atmosphere is relaxing as you let all your worries wash away with your giggles.
“It might have something to do with me”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” Your hips hit the table as you reach your hands over to grab her shoulders, bumping some paperwork off the desk.
“I’ll tell you once you sit your ass back down” Rolling her eyes at the mess beneath her.
“yes ma’am” The chair rolls a bit as you fall back on it
“I’ll just tell you vaguely: He said he wanted to get closer to you.” Her eyes glimpsing at the door for a second, making sure you don't have any unexpected visitors. “So I told him to pretend to not know how to use the camera and to watch you work.“
“So that's why he decided to turn into a tickle monster and put his salt and pepper on my neck? right right” You chuckle at her unbelievable story
“Look in my defense I told him to just stand by you and watch as if he was taking notes, I didn’t know he was gonna go full HR violation mode okay?” Her cape brazes the table as she walks up to your chair, stopping behind you. “Look I won’t tell you what he told me but just know you shouldn’t feel guilty. I'm gonna bet $50 you guys will be dating by this Friday.” she exhales while looking down at you.
She guides your hair behind your ear, maintaining her hand on you as it slides down your shoulder.
“Do you want to join the polycule or something? what the fuck” You giggle pretending to be disgusted by her hand that is now on your elbow.
“That’s not what I— get out of my office dick!” Her laugh caught the attention of a couple of employees as she opened the door. She's always had a pretty impactful laugh in many ways than others.
“See you around, cupid.” You muttered making your way out and back to your desk, the rest of the shift awaiting you.
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You’re not sure if anyone really saw what happened just now but you rather not know, imagine knowing the company you work at saw you crying over some white man— it’s better to just put the thought aside.
The second shift went by slowly, like painfully slowly. And what was worse is Robert kept looking at you, he kept passing by behind you and giving your shoulder a pat.
God HR must hate this place
It almost looked like he was trying to comfort you— he just gave you the thumbs up, he’s definitely trying to comfort you.
“I’m fine, Robert” You give in to the smile that was threatening to come out.
The clock icon appears on your dispatcher’s app, meaning your shift is almost over.
Finally you sigh thinking to yourself
After a couple more calls and decisions to make it’s finally time to go home and rethink your whole life’s choice. That would’ve been the case if it wasn’t for Robert looking like a sad puppy in the break room. Now I have to take care of that you thought to yourself, approaching said sad puppy quietly.
“What’s wrong? Bad shift?” Your voice is as soft as snow.
“I saw you cry today and you’re the one asking me how I’m doing? What has this world come to?” He chuckles, sitting up straight in the uncomfortable chair.
“God damn it I thought looking down was gonna hide it, you know?” Your eyes finding his, you feel the way your heart skips a beat. You missed this feeling, the past week has made you only feel horrible– this was a nice change.
“If you want, can you tell me what happened?” He watches as you close in the gap between you two, your knees hitting his.
“It was just a silly misunderstanding on my part, I should’ve just talked to Blazer earlier.” your hand holds the back of the chair he sits on, wishing it was him instead. “I won't be so depressed from now on.”
“Did Blazer tell you how our ‘date’ went?” his legs spread apart, his man spread was supposed to make him look more masculine, but it only made him look more submissive with the way he looks up at you through his lashes.
“Yes, she did” With your view it was almost hard not to pounce
“What else did she tell you?” His leg rocking back and forth, his skin longing to feel yours.
“She also told me that she bet $50 we’d be dating by next Friday”
“Fuck i bet this Monday” He bites his lip, faking his frustration.
“Today is Monday dumbass” Your laughter music to his ears.
“Yeah I know, how about we pretend to date and we use the $50 to get some food?” the chair creeks due to him standing up so abruptly, his face inches away from yours. The things you would do to kiss him, the things you would do to him are infinite.
“Hm am I getting leftovers again?” The material of your pants scrunching up as you rest your hands on your hip.
“I mean if you want to eat the food that the fork that was in my mouth touched, sure. But I was actually thinking of buying something nice and eating it at your apartment— is that too weird of a way to ask if you want to make out later?” his hand finds your waist, the area burning from the sensation.
“No not at all, I just wish you weren’t doing all of this at work.” You chuckle using your hand to remove his from your waist, holding it instead. “ I want a real kiss and no leftovers, alright? I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll see you soon, neighbor.”
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
You stand in front of your mirror wearing a dress, it's a short dress for the weather but your date just so happens to be inside your apartment so it's fine.
Your fingers are pulling on your bra’s strap, hiding it behind the dress.
Is this too much?
a knock interrupts your thoughts.
“Delivery fo— oh fuck” Robert’s eyes dart all over the place not knowing where to look. Your dress sparkling in his eyes.
“Come in” You push open the door stepping aside.
“You look incredible” He follows your eyes as he walks in, putting the food down on your counter.
He goes in for a hug wrapping his arms around your waist. As he pulls back your eyes flicker between his eyes to his lips.
He takes the hint, closing his eyes and leaning in again, this time for a kiss. His tongue making its way in, pushing you off your feet. Thankfully he still has his hands around you, supporting you as he turns his head. The kiss leaves you intoxicated.
When you pull away to gasp for air you see him blushing, he looks embarrassed to have gone that far.
“Its nice to see you too, fuck” you laugh grabbing the food and putting it on a table.
“sorry I got a little carried away” he follows behind you like a dog.
“Alright, I'm hungry, let's sit down.”
The date, at your house, goes as imagined. You tell him how you felt about him since you first met and he shares a mutual feeling. He explains exactly what happened with Blazer and you laugh at his nickname for you, ‘lonely motherfucker’ was not what you expected.
You share stories of the past and how he became Mecha man, you’re glad he's comfortable enough to tell you about these things.
His hands holding yours whenever he could, besides when he had to eat, you steal glances at him. His eyes never leave yours, wanting to see how you react to his jokes and seeing how you feel about him.
An hour passes like it's nothing, nothing but laughs filling your apartment.
“Can I take your plate?”
“Yes, thank you.” Robert looks you up and down as you take away his plate, loading up the dishwasher.
“My eyes are up here Robert.” His eyes look at yours then down again, admiring your figure.
The dishwasher’s door slams shut as you make your way back to the living room.
“So about that offer— Do you still want to make out?”
The smile from your face was washed away as his lips were on yours— The kiss started off slowly, his hands finding your waist holding you in place, your hand holding his face.
Breaking the kiss to catch your breath he kisses you again, more harshly like he has been waiting for this— He slips his tongue past your lips to slide it along yours, you moan at the sudden foreign object in your mouth.
He kisses you until you’re breathless, unbuttoning his shirt in the process.
“Fuck.” You groan sliding your dress off with difficulty, but atlas leaving you in your undergarments.
his eyes analyzing your body trying to remember every curve, every imperfection, every bump. His hands find your back pulling you towards him again, his kisses making you dizzy.
“You look— hm so pretty” He says in between kisses trying to catch his breath quickly.
You lead him to the sofa mouth still working against his lips when you pull back trying to turn the music off.
Reaching for the surface you feel his hands grab your hips.His hands pull you back to him, his nose caressing your neck. His lips find your ear, leaning into you he hums softly.
Shivers run down your body.
His hands glide up from your hips to your breast, circling you nipples before whispering in your ear. “Lift up your arms” he says, his fingers digging under your bra.
you feel him back away for a moment as he takes your bra off— the familiar sense of his lips coming back to attack your neck, followed by the sound of a small thud in the back.
You turn to face him caressing his cheek, taking in his pretty face.
“You’re so quiet, are you not enjoying this?” the sadness in your voice makes his eyes soften.
“I just don't make a lot of sounds.” his lips go in for a peck, his hands finding your tits again.
“I think you sound… hot.” You whisper the last part, not wanting to feel judged.
“You like my voice?” the way he looks down at you making your stomach turn. “Do you want me to talk you through it?”
His voice goes straight to your aching core.
“That’s… not necessary."
He pulls on the band of your underwear, the lacey material snapping back at you with a loud snap. He watches as you wince, taking in your every reaction.
“I can do it if you want.” He leans down to kiss your lips slowly, taking his time, giving you time to think about his question. “Do you want me to?”
you feel his hands cup your ass when you pull away from the kiss, his lips chasing yours.
“No, no, it’s fine. I'd rather just hear you moan.” you reach for his hands, guiding it back to your breasts.
“I can do that.” He says massaging one side gently, the other hand holding your waist trying to keep you balanced.
You slip away from him, sitting down on the sofa while staring up at him— waiting for him.
He sits next to you leaning in for a kiss which you reject. “Hm?” he tilts his head in a cute way.
You push him until his back is pressed against the back of the sofa. “relax, Mecha man.” the name flustering him.
His scarred body feels harsh compared to your gentle hands, roaming down his chest. You scratch his arm slightly with your nails, just wanting him to feel something different than the usual caress.
Your fingers thread through his hair after getting on your knees next to him, your other hand tracing his thigh.
You can see his growing bulge but he makes sure not to show any emotions. He grabs the hand that traces his thigh and moves it to his dick, squeezing it.
His nonchalant facade coming close to a break when you stroke him through his pants, his hand no longer helping you. You feel the way he tenses under you, letting you do whatever you want to him.
He bites back a groan when you focus on his tip, still teasing him through his pants. You decide to go along his length slowly; watching your hands, feeling him fully, seeing the way he twitches under your hand.
“You like watching me too?” His fingertips brush over your clothed pussy.
“ye—yes” you gasp at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit.
“take your underwear off and sit down.” You did exactly what he asked in a heartbeat.
You watch as he takes his pants off, eyeing his every move savoring this moment. He takes his dick out and starts stroking it, getting himself ready for you.
you take his left hand and lead it down your body, guiding him where you wanted him most. He makes quick work of his fingers, stimulating you as you arch your back against the sofa.
He doesn’t complain when you enjoy yourself, leaving him with all the work.
His fingers slipped inside just as you were about to reach for him, it’s a little embarrassing how much he's affecting you. His mouth finds yours, kissing while exploring your insides.
His thumb rubbing your sensitive spot, overstimulating you in all the correct ways.
In the heat of the moment you finally have the strength to reach over to his dick, that clearly needed some attention.
You give it a couple of jerks before stroking it up and down lazily, it's hard to focus on him when he's having his way with you.
“You don’t have to focus on me, let me enjoy you.” his voice vibrating against your lips, your moans filling the room.
Your left hand starts working on his tip, your right one playing with your breast. You press yourself against his side, bodies flush together.
His mouth open slightly, feeling his sensitive tip get some attention. He pants against your neck, watching the way he works on you.
You on other hand focus on making him cum, feeling your own climax approaching.
His pants turn into soft whimpers, his hips bucking in time with your strokes, fucking himself in your hand. His fingers move fast inside you.
His thumb circles your clit and draws little mixed-up shapes in order to keep your toes curling and that fire in your belly burning. His speed picks up as your moans get louder and louder.
His long fingers curl inside when you feel sparks of pleasure in your belly. You’re a whimpering mess now, eyes fluttering feeling that sweet release approaching.
Your shut as the knot in your stomach comes undone. Trembling under his fingers which still work on you, helping you come down from your high.
Your hand lets go of him completely leaving him desperate for your touch once again.
“so—sorry, sorry..” you try to say in between gasps.
“For what?” he takes his fingers out, rubbing your clit with the fingers that were inside you seconds ago.
He wanted you to keep talking even when he was overstimulating you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from you.
His erection twitching against your thigh from him adjusting to finger you better earlier, he looks down at it.
“I want to watch.” your voice making him look back at you.
“say please” his hand finds his dick again, he lazily glides his hand up and down. Purposefully not doing anything too much to give you enough time to answer.
“please Robert.” you bat your lashes at him, pouting.
“Give me something to work with.” He picks up the pace, leaning back while looking at you.
You bite your lip enjoying the personal show. Grasping at your tits you start playing with yourself, going from gripping yourself to digging your nails on your thighs.
He smiles seductively letting his eyes admire your beauty. The way you look at him hungrily, the way you show yourself to him is enough to make his pupils wide.
He pumps himself sloppy as he speeds up, brows knitting together. The noises he makes make you whimper in response, reaching down to your clit again.
you both watch each other, as you try to cum again and he tries to find his own release. Moaning each other’s names you finish first, slowly rubbing yourself.
He watches you as he finishes on his stomach, gasping at the strength of his orgasm.
His focus shifts to himself, closing his eyes relieved. Not noticing you left to grab a towel, he gets startled when you throw something at him.
“Fuck you scared me” his eyes snap open, grabbing the towel off his body. “Come ‘ere”
He kisses you one more time before cleaning up your legs, gently trying not to stimulate you anymore.
“So what time tomorrow?” you say pushing his hair that was stuck to his face aside.
“Depends if you want to be my girlfriend or not.” he stops and looks at you timidly.
