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taintedcigs · 1 year

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we’d still worship this love — e.m.

part two of even if it’s a false god.

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!

summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)

a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!

Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.

He had fucked up.

So badly.

He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.

“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.

Robin.

“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.

He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.

He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.

He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone.

2 HOURS LATER

DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry

DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear

DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me

DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come

DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this.

You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.

You blocked this contact.

“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.

“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.

“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.

“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.

“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.

You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.

Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—”

Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth.

You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid.

But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that.

But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved.

The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door.

The three of you looked at each other in unison.

Shit.

Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here?

You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door.

As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly.

“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak.

“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look.

“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold.

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back.

“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered.

“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.

But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.

Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle.

“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off.

“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt.

“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger.

“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred.

His drunkenness made you more angry.

“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.

“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground.

“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help.

“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you.

1 MONTH LATER:

Thirty fucking days.

Eddie was going to lose his mind.

Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.

He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.

Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.

Until he made it to the party.

Until he finally saw you.

With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—

His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore.

“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole.

You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing?

Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him.

You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes.

“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.

You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze.

“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides.

You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side.

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening.

“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth.

Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.

“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks.

This asshole.

“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.

You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”

You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile.

“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm.

You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room.

“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face.

He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”

“None of your business.” You hissed.

“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”

“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over.

“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger.

“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.

“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.

You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.

Fucking jerk.

You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.

“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing.

“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.

You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.

“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…

“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.

But you can’t help it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated.

“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took.

“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.

“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you.

“Yes!” You snapped.

“Then show me.” He challenged.

“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you.

Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.

And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know.

And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips.

“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it.

But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing.

Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time.

You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.

His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you.

Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ.

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising.

Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time.

He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment.

He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you.

You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you.

Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs.

His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance.

You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.”

But he didn’t move an inch.

That greedy bastard.

“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient.

Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised.

“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body.

You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good.

But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch.

And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time.

He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing.

“Please,” You begged.

“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.

“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more.

With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds.

“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched.

But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay.

You just needed to feel good.

“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more.

Baby.

He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does.

He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say.

But he’s sure you will never let him.

“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.

That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance.

The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you.

He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans.

“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.

You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.

“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.

“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth.

“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.

You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.

You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more.

He was making you greedy.

God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad.

He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered.

You ignored his taunting while you begged for more.

“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.

And it was a huge mistake.

He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you.

And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you.

He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could.

“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful.

“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true.

You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it.

“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you.

He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly.

You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled.

“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.

“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.

“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear.

Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.

But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good.

“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences.

“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.

You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess.

It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed.

“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling.

“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.

“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created.

“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.

"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”

“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.

“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.

“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest.

He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind.

Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again.

You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up.

His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim.

“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time.

A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe.

He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge.

“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath.

You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you.

This was the last time.

And you needed to leave.

As soon as possible.

And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever.

You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed.

“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible.

You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear.

And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it.

“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded.

“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I lied,” He was quick to reply.

“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.

“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined.

“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.

You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind.

“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.

But he doesn’t let you finish.

“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.”

You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly.

“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.

Just one more fucking chance.

“What good will it do?” You whispered.

“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need.

“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.

“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.”

“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.

“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused.

“So?” He shrugged.

“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”

“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.

He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.

You were afraid of getting hurt.

You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.

You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.

You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.

If you didn’t leave now, you never could.

“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door.

Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up.

He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration.

He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.

Forever.

But did he have to?

Did he need to be a fucking coward again?

Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt?

Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you.

“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch.

He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you.

You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs.

“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind.

He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“I need to talk to you.” He said.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.

“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed.

“Please, Y/N.”

“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.

He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head.

“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.

You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.”

You’d never seen him like this before.

Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.

And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.

You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.

“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.

How the fuck did he read you that easily?

“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.

“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.

You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.

Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them.

“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.

“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.

“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.

You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate.

“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain.

Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.

“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.

You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him.

“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.

“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s.

“I—You do?” You stuttered.

“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen.

“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back.

“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered.

You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose.

“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples.

God, you wanted to kiss him.

“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.

Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”

His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?

“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”

You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.

It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.

Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.

“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.

He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.

Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?

You nodded, affirming him.

“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.

“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.

“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.

“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.

“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.

“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.

“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.

“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.

And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #fuckboy!eddie munson #fuckboy!eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #modern!eddie munson

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buttercatrho · 10 months

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[Quiet Room]

Lyric comic to stop me going insane (its not working)

angstangstangst

lyrics are from the song Quiet Room by Yoh Kamiyama, specifically the rachie cover

#art #fanart #digital art #the amazing digital circus #amazing digital circus #the digital circus #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc ragatha #tadc fanart #buttonblossom #ragatha x pomni #pomni x ragatha #ragapom #jesterdoll #digital yuri #i have one framing device for scenes in this fuckinnnn stuff idk words #hallways are just good ok #buttercatrho art

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Reflections | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions/descriptions of smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), angstangstangst, the crippling reality of being broke and in your twenties, an ambiguous ending! Up to your imagination what happens next :)

Word Count: 5026

A/N: For a lovely nonnie!! This fic hits close to home LMFAO as does the song the fic is inspired by. Not to call you out nonnie but tell me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly without telling me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly… lol. Anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this absolute angst cesspool of pre-season one Dean!!

Songs of the fic ! (did anyone else’s exes listen to the trifecta of male manipulator music aka car seat headrest, cigs after sec, and the neighbourhood? bonus points if chase atlantic is thrown in there, too)

Reflections by the Neighbourhood

Casual by Chappell Roan

Working for the Knife by Mitski

It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Queue up your favorite music streaming service if you’d like, and have a wonderful read!

Meeting Dean Winchester was among the more wonderful things that happened to you. After graduating from college, your life had been complete hell. Between non-stop job interviews, working shifts at a crappy restaurant job you’d had since sophomore year to be able to pay your rent, and a crumbling relationship with your family, you were drowning. Needing a night off, you decided to go out with a few of your friends.

It was that night that you met Dean. As soon as you walked into the bar, he caught your eye. He was busy chatting with a pretty blonde with long, toned legs, but you hardly noted her. He was all muscle, tall, freckled, and had probably been sculpted by the gods.

Men didn’t usually hold your attention. You were too busy and had too many previous relationships with frat boys and abusive idiots to worry about or focus on another one. Dean, however, was different.

Through the night, you tried to just enjoy your time with your friends, but every piece of you was hoping that the beautiful stranger would come over and talk to you. And finally, finally, your silent prayer came true.

His confidence was intimidating. Your friends all blushed and giggled when he approached, and your best friend pulled your other two girls away to another table to let you and Dean talk.

“Your friend seems disappointed,” he said evenly.

“In what?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips.

“That I’m talking to you and not her,” the man replied.

Oh, god. You knew his type. You knew he’d be horrible for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You’re very sure of yourself…” you trailed off, waiting for him to tell you his name.

“Dean,” he told you.

“Dean.” The name felt good rolling off your tongue. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Trust me, pleasure’s all mine,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can drop the cheesy lines.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you smirked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Most girls like ‘em,” he said, confidence unwavering.

“Do you think I’m like most girls?” you asked, eyes challenging and lustful.

“No,” he smirked.

***

That night was officially marked in the calendar as the night you had the best sex of your life. Dean was incredibly giving in bed, and he wouldn’t let himself finish until you did. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough with you, and you appreciated how attentive to your reactions he was.

After that, Dean came over to your apartment every night for four days. And yet, you still knew very little about him.

“Where ‘re you from, Dee?” you asked, sitting on the couch across from him with a beer in your hand.

“Lawrence. In Kansas,” he replied shortly. Dean normally wasn’t as curt with you, and you knew you needed to press further into that.

“We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,” you joked. “What’s got you out here?”

“Eh, y’know. My brother’s off at Stanford, my dad’s a dick when he’s not around, and I just needed to get away for a bit,” Dean explained, shrugging.

“Brother?” you asked.

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, uh, Sam’s his name. He’s in undergrad for law. His freshman year.”

“Oh, damn. He must be really smart, then,” you prompted.

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, he is.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?” he replied, taking a sip of his beer.

“College?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Dropped out as soon as it was legal to.”

You snickered.

“What about you? What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asked, sinking further into your couch. Even the way he sat emanated confidence.

You sighed.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you—”

You shook your head. “No, no! It’s okay. It’s just— It’s complicated.” Dean allowed you to collect your thoughts for a moment. “Went to school, got myself a degree, and I graduated last year. And now, I’m barely keeping myself afloat. Applied to tons of places, got interviews at some, and all of ‘em fell through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m sure every new grad goes through this shit.”

“What about your family?” Dean asked you. “You close with them?”

You scoffed. “All of them can suck my dick.”

Dean chuckled, clearly caught off-guard. “Jesus. That bad?”

“Absolutely.” You stretched and put your empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Life’s not all bad, though.”

“Oh?” Dean prompted.

“I met you, didn’t I?” you smiled lopsidedly.

The man chuckled but said nothing.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did. I know we’re just hooking up, and—”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay. Just… I wanna be upfront with you. I’m just rolling through. I’m never gonna be in one place for long.”

Your heart sank. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. You’re—” Dean cut himself off, sighing. He sat up fully, put his beer down, and turned to face you. “Trust me. It’s not you.” He put his hand over yours, making you look up at him.

‘Damn his gorgeous face,’ you thought. You would never be able to stay angry with him for too long. You surged forward and pressed his lips to yours, pushing him down on the couch.

***

If you couldn’t have anything else with Dean, you were going to have sex with him as much as humanly possible. Slowly but surely, he was giving you indications that he was forming feelings for you, too.

Dean started staying the night around a week into the two of you hooking up. You were pleasantly surprised when he’d hold you while you slept, too. The sex became more passionate as opposed to rough and hard, even though you thoroughly enjoyed both. He asked you questions about your upbringing and your job, and was giving you every signal that he was interested in you for more than just sex.

And then, he disappeared. You called him several times, but you never got an answer. To say you were crushed was an understatement.

Even though you’d only known Dean for three weeks, you were falling hard for him. He had an effect on you that no one else did. Dean was kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and although immature at times, he had all the makings of a wonderful man and partner. And just like that, he left. No word, no note— nothing. Just the night before he was telling you how glad he was that he met you. Maybe that should have been a sign that something was wrong, but you supposed hindsight was 20/20.

At work that day, you were a complete mess of smudged eyeliner, knotted hair pulled back in a claw clip, and puffy eyes from crying.

“You good, (Y/N/N)?” one of your coworkers asked when she found you on your smoke break.

The cigarette trembled between your fingers, and tears poured down your cheeks. Your only response was a frantic head nod.

She gave you a deadpan look. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Holding the cigarette away from your face, you scrubbed your hand over your eyes. “Just this fucking guy.”

She grimaced, sucking in air through her teeth. “Shit. That’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “On top of everything else that’s fucking falling apart in my life, I thought—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “Whatever. He’s a dick.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, and took a puff of your cigarette. You let out all the air and smoke from your lungs and turned to face your friend. “I gotta get back. I’m sure table twenty-five needs another fucking bucket of Michelob.” Having smoked almost the entire cigarette, you dropped it on the ground and stomped out the remaining embers.

Your coworker laughed as you opened the back door to the kitchen for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” she told you.

Nodding, you smiled in thanks for her kindness.

***

Truthfully, you were drowning. Bills just kept piling up, two more job applications had fallen through, and the restaurant had been slowing down on the weekdays steadily since summer ended. Tips were shitty, and your situation had gotten so bad, you’d need to start working a second job and taking the bus to work. If you couldn’t find a second job or a job your degree suited soon, you were screwed.

After yet another fight with your parents over how much of a screw-up you were in comparison to your brother and sister, you were done. You needed something to numb the world out. None of your friends were able to go out, seeing as it was a weeknight, and they all had “real” jobs.

And so, you sat on your couch and drank alone. You didn’t want to run up your power bill any more than it would already be this month, so you sat in silence with candles lit as you drank. Your logical mind knew this was a horrible idea— combining emotional exhaustion, fire hazards, and alcohol— but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

Your next late-night escapade with drinking came when you discovered you could numb out the feeling of being hungry with alcohol. The fridge and pantry were virtually empty, and you hadn’t had enough time or spare change to go to the grocery store after barely scraping by on rent and your bills the week prior.

Drinking also helped you to sleep through breakfast, so the only time you really needed to eat was lunch before going to work. You’d stopped responding to your friends’ texts, and your routine didn’t consist of anything aside from working, drinking, and applying to jobs.

The weeks droned by, and despite the chaos in your life, your thoughts were still of Dean. Why did he have so much power over you? You didn’t even really know him, and here you were, a complete fucking mess because he left without a word. You knew you couldn’t have been in love with him; maybe infatuation was a better way to describe your feelings for him.

Finally, your friend, Melanie, came over to drag you out of your misery. She did your hair and makeup, forced you to eat something, and brought you out on a Saturday night with your friend group. Her kindness was very much appreciated, and you thanked her profusely for it.

Your night out with your friends relit a bit of a fire in you. What kept you on even more of a high note was the interview you had a few days later at a bar. It had gone incredibly well, and the manager told you to expect a call very soon. Hope filled your chest at the thought of being able to have more than just a few cents left in your pocket after the monthly billing period.

***

You’d done it. You got the job! Your friends took you out once again as a celebration, and you felt like you were finally getting back to your old self. However, that was when your friends noticed something was wrong. You’d never been the friend to get blackout drunk; you were always holding your friends’ hair back while they threw up in the bathroom. And yet, you were as sloppily drunk as ever.

The next thing to catch their attention was you stumbling over to them with a seemingly arrogant prick’s arm around you.

“Guys,” you swallowed, “guys! This is…” you trailed off, not exactly sure what his name was. “Sorry, handsome, what’s your name?”

That was when another of your friends, Syriah, pulled you aside and away from the man. “(Y/N), what is wrong with you?” she asked.

Your eyes were immediately dewey. “What? What’d I do wrong?”

“Babe, you’re all over the place. What’s happening to you?” she asked compassionately, steadying you with her hands on your shoulders.

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t know,” you said earnestly, collapsing onto her shoulder when she pulled you into a tight hug. “I don’t like how this feels, Riah.”

She petted your hair and just held you against her. “Look, I’ll get you a cab. We just need to get you home safe, okay?”

You nodded into her shoulder, still hiccuping.

Once you got back to your apartment, you flopped down across the couch. Against your better judgment, you called Dean. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left a voicemail. “Hey! Hi, Dee.” Your voice sounded funny because your cheek was pressed against your couch, and you laughed at yourself. “Sorry for calling, I, um—” you swallowed harshly, “I just miss you. A lot. And I don’t know why. ‘Cause I kinda hate you for leaving me, y’know? Like, what the— what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a catch, okay.” You paused, hiccuping. “And another thing, it’s rude to leave without saying anything. I thought we were better friends than just fuck buddies. Why wouldn’t you— why wouldn’t you say something? Anything?” Sniffles and tears escaped you. “You suck, okay? But also, I miss your dick. Bring it back, okay? But fuck you.” And then, you hung up.

***

Thankfully, you woke up just in time the next day to get to your new job for training. You looked like a complete trainwreck, but you did your best to smooth out your hair and conceal the bags under your eyes on the bus ride there.

You went about working absentmindedly and did your best to smile and joke around with your trainer. After an exhausting day with little time to recount the events of the night before, you went back to your apartment to catch up on sleep. However, your nighttime routine was interrupted by frantic knocks on your door.

“Alright, alright I’m—” You cut yourself off, mouth going slack when you found Dean standing in front of your apartment.

“Dean?” you breathed out.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smirked awkwardly.

You suddenly snapped yourself out of your surprise and became incredibly angry. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here, do you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Can we— Can we just talk, please?”

“Why should I even give you the time of day?!” you snarked incredulously.

“ ‘Cause you told me you miss me. And my dick,” he tried to charm you.

You scoffed. “What?! No, I didn’t.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. In your voicemail last night.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you remembered flashes of leaving that horrifically embarrassing voicemail. “Oh, fuck.” You dropped your face toward the floor, pinching your temples and thinking. “You’ve got five minutes,” you finally told Dean, letting him into your apartment.

“Look,” Dean began while you closed the door behind him, “I didn’t wanna leave.”

You scoffed again.

“I know. But I had to,” he explained.

“Why?” you asked. “If you had to leave, fine, but why couldn’t you at least call me back?”

“Because this isn’t good! For either of us,” he responded, voice rising slightly.

“Why?!” you pressed. “And what gives you the right to make that decision for me?!”

“Because I can’t give you what you want!” Dean argued. “I can’t stay for longer than a few weeks at a time. I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. And I’m making that decision because I know you won’t make that decision for yourself.”

“You don’t know me, Dean! We hooked up, for like, two fucking weeks!” you laughed incredulously. “I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself, thank you!”

“I do know you. God, we are so much alike, and that’s just another reason why we don’t fucking work,” he responded. Then, Dean’s voice quieted considerably. “And, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want you. ‘Cause I do.”

“But we can’t see each other. ‘Cause you’ll just leave again,” you nodded, hugging yourself protectively.

Dean nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I left like I did.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” you told him.

He shook his head, eyes still fixed to the floor. “Don’t be.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “What are you still doing here, Dean?”

He didn’t respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, your breath caught in your throat. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Through the rest of the night, the two of you apologized and made up and apologized again with deep kisses, your bodies connecting, and words murmured through shuddering breaths.

***

To your surprise, Dean was still in your bed the next morning with his arms wrapped around you. As much as you were angry at him for a little over two months, the night you shared and words you exchanged had you forgiving him easily.

He hummed, alerting you that he was awake, before promptly pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your neck. You giggled as Dean’s breath tickled your neck, and he peppered kisses against your skin.

“Mornin’,” his deep voice rumbled against you.

“Mm, morning,” you replied, a smile stretching across your face. You bit your lip, and you tugged at Dean’s hair while he sucked a dark mark onto your collar bone. “I better be able to cover that up with my work uniform, or I swear to god, asshole—”

“It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, kissing your collarbone. “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “New job.”

“Oh, wow! Good for you,” he told you, picking his face up from your neck.

“Eh, just another gig to make ends meet. Bar this time, though.”

“And the other one you work at’s a—”

“Restaurant—”

“—restaurant, right.”

You smiled at the fact that he remembered. “I’m working, like, fifty hours a week, now. But I gotta keep my lights on, y’know?”

“Jesus, that’s a lot,” Dean grimaced.

“What about you? You never told me what you do for work,” you told him.

“I don’t,” he replied quickly.

“Oh, god. Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joked.

Dean chuckled. “My dad’s settin’ me up to take over the family business since Sammy’s off to be a lawyer, or whatever.”

“Family business?” you prompted, hoping he’d explain a little bit more.

“Yeah,” he responded. You could tell he was dodging your question, but you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. “For now, I’m just road-trippin’. Makin’ the most of my youth.”

“Well, I don’t know that hangin’ out with a girl like me is ‘making the most of your youth’,” you joked.

“What?” he replied. “You’re awesome, what are you talking about?”

You shrugged, getting out of your bed. Dean’s eyes followed you as you moved around your room trying to get yourself ready for the work day ahead. “I mean, I ain’t got much. Two bucks to my name, a useless ass college degree, fifty-thousand dollars in debt, and two siblings with a long list of accolades that make me look like literal sewer trash in comparison.”

Dean nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I’m pretty much in the same boat.”

You turned to him while you brushed your hair, struck by his words. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess you are.” A smile began to tug at your lips. “Makes me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only disappointment to their bloodline out there.”

Dean laughed. “Amen to that.” He then noticed the bottle of beer you’d pulled from the fridge across the small studio apartment from his position on the bed. “Whoa. Little early for that, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” and took a large swig.

***

That day at work had been okay, and you were exhausted when you got back to your apartment. Dean was coming over, but you told him ahead of time that there would be no sex happening since you needed to get up early the next day. He’d given a petulant yet funny response but seemed eager to get over to you.

And that was how your routine continued for a few days. He would come over after you got off work, you’d have sex, rinse, and repeat. Then, after a particularly rough day, Dean found you indulging in the binge drinking habit you’d adopted.

He burst through the door to your apartment concerned only to find you watching the television with a beer in your hand. “Holy shit, (Y/N), why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Dean then seemed to notice the several empty bottles on your coffee table.

“I just didn’t wanna talk tonight, Dean, take the fucking hint,” you grumbled before finishing off the bottle in your hands.

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he told you, trying to help you up from the couch.

You jerked your arm away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean seemed angry, but his expression melted into something else. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?” The words came out slurred. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), that shouldn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “You know this isn’t good for you, right?”

A laugh escaped you. “You said the same thing about you, and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

That caught Dean off-guard, and he was silent, for once.

“Just go away, Dean,” you said quietly.

And he did.

***

The next day, you were horrified by your actions. You called Dean once; no answer. The second time you called, there was still no answer, but you left a voicemail. “Dean? Dean, I’m so sorry. I— I remember what I said to you last night. God, that was fucking horrible of me. Please come back. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, please?” You hung up, running a hand through your hair.

You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment and pulled out another beer. Your tolerance had certainly increased since you started binge drinking, and a bottle in the morning had become the equivalent to a cup of coffee.

Against your better judgment, you called out of work. You needed the money from both shifts you were scheduled for today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in.

Finally, Dean called back.

“Dean!” you squeaked as soon as you answered the phone. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“I know you are,” he told you. The silence between you was thick; neither of you completely sure what to say. “How long you been actin’ like Lebowski?”

That actually made you laugh despite the perhaps tone-deaf nature of the joke. “Meh, I’ve always liked to drink.” You considered your next words carefully. “It, uh, it started after you left.”

Silence encapsulated the two of you again.

“I’m so sorry,” was all Dean could say to you.

“No, no no!” you said. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking mess, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve picked up the fucking phone—”

“Dean,” you asserted. “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll be over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took the day to try and get yourself together a bit. By the time Dean arrived, the apartment was sparkling, the empty beer bottles were picked up, and your hair and face had been washed.

Dean smirked lopsidedly when he noticed the work you’d been doing. “Good for you, sweetheart.”

***

That night, it was taking both you and Dean much longer than usual to fall asleep.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked him quietly.

“I’m not a good person, (Y/N),” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, putting your hand on the side of his face. However, he wouldn’t turn it up to look at you. “How could you say that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said.

“Dean, we already talked about this—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I meant last night.”

“Oh,” you replied, stomach flipping.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Dean reiterated. “I just— I got so angry. ‘Cause you’re right. I’m not good for you. And it’s selfish of me to keep you on the hook like this.”

You felt your heart cracking in your chest. “Dean, I have no idea what we are or what we’ve been doing, but…”

“I know,” he said. “I care about you a lot, too.”

“But we’re not good for each other,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t— I can’t be what you deserve.” You swallowed harshly, tears brimming your eyes. “I’ve got too much shit going on. I can’t—”

Dean cut you off again. “I know,” he said, seeming like he was crying, too. “And I’m gonna have to keep leaving. And I don’t wanna leave. I don’t— I don’t know how to be alone.” Dean’s admission broke your heart, and you grabbed his hand. “I can’t give you a relationship. There’s just— There’s no room in my life for that.”

Your lip was trembling, but you tried your best to force your next words out. “It’s okay,” you said, even though it definitely didn’t feel okay.

“I don’t wanna just keep having sex while you’re in the state you’re in,” Dean continued. “That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He snorted, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Thank you. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have been able to tell you to go,” you said. “You were right.”

“I know you, (Y/N). I see too much of myself in you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

A long moment passed between the two of you, the only noise coming from the window unit in your apartment.

“I’ll be gone when you wake up,” Dean told you, holding you against him.

As much as your heart was breaking, you stayed resting against Dean’s chest, the rising and falling of it soothing you to sleep.

When the sunlight streamed through the curtains and hit your eyes, you realized Dean followed through with his promise.

***

Four years went by. The first one had dragged as you healed yourself from your addiction and the loss of Dean. Admittedly, you’d tried several times to get in contact with him, but the number had been disconnected. The next year, you began to feel happy again. You’d gotten a steady job, had tons of alcohol-free fun with your friends, and generally had a more positive outlook on life.

That third year, though, your life would change forever. The world of monsters, spirits, and demons was unveiled to you when your sister was found dead. The police arrested her husband since your mother had told them the couple had been having problems in the months leading up to her death, but you knew your brother-in-law wouldn’t do that. Everyone insisted you were just in denial, but your gut told you there was something else going on.

The way she died raised red flags for you, too. It almost looked like she’d been mauled by an animal, and some of her organs were missing. Her husband was a relatively stable person; no way was he capable of something like that. And if he was, where were her organs? Why would he have left her on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood? Why did he call the cops himself? Nothing was adding up in your mind.

As any person desperate for answers would, you turned to a psychic. She introduced you to the idea that your sister had died being attacked by a werewolf. At first, you laughed, insisting she was crazy. When all the evidence was presented to you, though, it was the only explanation that made sense.

From that moment forward, you trained and researched relentlessly to try your hand at hunting. You knew that going it alone would be dangerous, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else in your life you could talk to about what you knew.

The day after you met with the medium, you abandoned your apartment, cell phone, laptop, and car, and hit the road.

A year into your new life of motel rooms and gas station dinners between ghost hunts, your job brought you to Wisconsin where a college athlete drowned in a lake outside her home. You’d already interviewed the girl’s father and brother as well as the local police chief that morning. Around one o’clock, you were starving and headed out of your room to get some lunch.

When you rounded the corner of the building to head to your car parked in the front lot, you slammed into a wall of solid muscle. The man grunted, as did you.

“Oh my god, I’m so—” you cut yourself off when you realized who you were looking at.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out.

“Hi, Dean.”

Forever taglist is open! :)

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester angst #dean angst #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #fic request

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tiredmamaissy · 2 years

Text

Moment of Truth

Neteyam’s First Rut: Chapter VII

Read Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V & Chapter VI

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Neteyam Sully (21) x Avatar Reader (21)

Warnings: nsfw, ANGSTANGSTANGST, pregnancy, blood, reader cries way too much, a sliver of smut (in comparison), make up/pregnant sex creampie, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 8.5k [I have no excuse]

Requested: Yes || No || Kinda

Author’s Note: why am I so dramatic lol. the amount of angst in this is sickening, but it’s okay there’s a happy ending, I promise.

Synopsis: You’ve been keeping a big secret from your mate, Neteyam. It’s time to come clean, but when finally you decide to... something happens.

Previously:

“Ma’ yawne. You had me worried. Ta’sun is in good hands, okay? Let us go home.” he reassures you, not even considering how being away for long would make you feel. He rubs your back whilst coming out the water. “How do you feel... otherwise?” he asks, a sliver of relief in his voice.

“I’m okay. I just want to go home, please.” you mumble, already feeling the guilt of lying about something so big.

The ride home is quiet. You cling to your mate, running an array of scenarios through your head. Scenarios of you sitting him down, and telling him the truth. Only for him to respond to you with a cold shoulder, or worse – anger and disappointment. You can already hear it:

“y/n, how could you be so careless? If you knew, why did you not say anything? I asked you, multiple times!”

Because the truth is, you knew. You knew from the moment you sat in between his legs on Seze, feeling the influence of his pheromones. You knew, deep down, that your heat was creeping up on you, yet you still reassured him that you wanted this – wanted him. You knew that when you did accept the truth, that it was too late.

Your eyes remain shut, tears still silently running down your cheeks, hurting from words he never spoke.

“Shh... my love. We are almost there. Ta’sun is going to be so excited to see his sa’nu [mummy], that he will not even look his sempu [daddy].” he chuckles, a warm hand holding you close to him.

His words only make you bawl more, dimples forming in your chin as it quivers. The thought of your baby jumping about excited to see you makes your heart sink even more, because you know you could have another budding in your womb, excited to meet you too.

----

Three weeks have passed since Neteyam’s rut. Each day felt torturous, carrying the burden of such a heavy secret in your heart. There were countless moments where you yearned to sit down and tell him the truth – to tell him you may be pregnant. But there were also moments where you tried, where it came out more as a light-hearted joke, rather than a confession. The moments where he made it clear that it not something he wanted.

“You look like you want a baby tsmukan [brother] or tsmuke [sister] to protect, ma’ Ta’sun. Look at you getting so big.” you coo, watching your son crawl to you.

Neteyam chuckles behind you, watching his son try his best to make quick strides back to his sa’nu. “None, right ma’ Ta’sun? You are still a baby yourself, too young and sweet to have that responsibility.” Neteyam speaks from his own experience, being the bigger brother – the protector, all his life.

Just like that, a few more stones in your heart.

It hurt you. To know the father of your child wouldn’t be excited to hear he was having another. It only made you retreat even further into your shell, denying yourself your own excitement of possibly having another Ta’sun in your womb. You tried your best to turn a blind eye to your blatant symptoms, that you began to experience in only a week.

Just the sight of steamed bladder polyps made you gag, and if the smell ever wafts past your nose, you’d to run out of the tent to heave into the shrubs. The craving for Yovo fruit has come back ten-fold, now being the only thing that you can keep down. There was a new heaviness in your womb, much like the heaviness in your heart. A heaviness that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t deny.

Your breasts became tender and sore. Each time he latched white-hot pain seared through your breast, making you jolt in your skin. You endured it regardless; you’d do anything for your son. But Ta’sun weaned overnight, out the blue – another thing that kept you from sleeping soundly.

“Teyam, he keeps biting me.” you cry, frustrated and worn out. “It hurts, I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what is happening.” you lie once more, already knowing it’s because your milk doesn’t taste the same due to the new hormones in your body.

“Ah, my love.” he rests his hands on your shoulders, only for you to shrug him away. “It is alright. It is time now that he weans.” he tries to reassure you, stepping back to give you the space you want.

“You are not listening to me... I wish you listened to me.” you hiccup, talking about something completely different.

His brows pinch together, pity plastered on his face. “Oh, ma’ yawne. I know you are frustrated.” a hand hovers over your shoulder for a split second, “I am sorry.” he apologizes, retreating his hand, feeling like he could be a better mate – a better father.

You felt terrible. You knew your attitude hurt Neteyam, lashing out on him when you were upset.

Neteyam could tell something was off about you, but he chalked it up to something that happened that day – something that he did wrong. There was unspoken, unpleasant tension between the two of you. You remained in your shell, trying to hide all the symptoms of the budding babe in your womb. But it only came off as detachment. He tried to make it up to you daily with numerous gestures of love, all of which you brushed off because of the guilt bubbling deep in your chest. You felt that you didn’t deserve his love, keeping a lie this big from him – and he felt that he deserved your cold, distant treatment.

“Ma’ txe’lan [heart]. I made your favourite. Are you hungry?” he smiled wide, bringing you a bowl of steamed bladder polyps with Ta’sun strapped to his chest.

Your face screwed, stomach turning at the smell wafting past your nose. Eyes slamming shut, you exhale harshly, trying to get the smell out your system. A fire sets in your lungs as they beg for air. You shake your head, and run outside, leaving him there alone – his smile drooping into a frown.

He waited patiently for you to come around, giving you as much time as you needed. At times, he confided in his mother, wishing to get clarity – to gain some sort of understanding. He thought, perhaps it was something deeper, something that women experience after having a baby. There would be moments where he would try to talk to you, or just cherish you in his arms. The moments where he would lightly tug at your queue, silently asking to feel connected with you.

Neteyam presses his body against yours, yearning for his mates’ soft, soothing touch. He misses you, yet you’re lying right in front of him. Not wanting to pressure you into anything, he never took it father that just this. But tonight, his heart weighs extra heavy, despite it being empty.

“Y/n.” he whispers, lips brushing against your neck. “I miss you.” his voice cracks, riddled with anguish.

The words are like a dagger to your heart, piercing it enough for the stones to tumble out. You miss him, too. Yet you lay there as silent as a yerik [hexapede], putting on yet another sleeping façade. Desperate fingertips brush the length of your queue. He knows that you’re awake, he could hear your thumping heart.

“I love you, y/n.” he whispers once more, knowing you’re listening. “I see you. For life.” his way of telling you that he’ll wait for however long you need him to.

You cry, and cry, and cry, scooting back into his arms as you tugged your queue from his fingertips, holding it tight to your bosom. “I love you.” you spit the words, breath hitching from your sobs.

You couldn’t believe yourself, being such a hypocrite. You were so upset with Neteyam when he lied to you about going on the hunting trip with his father so he could just spend his rut alone. A lie that was for your benefit.

It all became unbearable. Your symptoms became unbearable – indubitable. It was eating you alive, you had to know for sure... to come clean. But you didn’t know how. To simply say “I think I am pregnant” seemed too easy – too simple. How could you say such a thing after weeks of mistreatment? After weeks of being a horrid mate? You needed advice. Who better to give that to you than your best friend?

Kiri.

----

“Neteyam. Kiri wanted to talk to me. Sounds important. You okay with Ta’sun for a while?” the lie slips off your tongue too easily.

“Of course, ma’ yawne. Don’t you want to eat before you go? You have not eaten all day.” he smiles slightly, glancing at the bladder polyps.

“Uh – no. But thank you, Nete. I’m gonna get going before the eclipse starts, okay?” you say, backing out of the tent. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Oh, okay. I love-” his voice strains, quickening to catch you before you... slip out the door. “...you.” he finishes his sentence, a sinking feeling in his chest makes his ears lay flat. He looks down at his son, perched in his lap.

“What did sempu [daddy] do wrong?” he croaks, tucking Ta’sun’s growing hair behind his ears. Ta’sun babbles at his father in return, staring up at him with a wide-eyed goggle and a gummy smile.

----

Too deep in thought, you were already at Kiri’s tent, standing at her door focused on your feet. The emotional overload is overwhelming. You were... everything, all at once. Angry. Sad. Disappointed. Anxious... In denial – heavy denial. Kiri being his sister didn’t make it any better. How would you tell her? How could you tell her? You’d been mistreating her brother for weeks. Surely, she wouldn’t be happy to hear that, even if you’re her best friend – her sister. Body going into fight or flight, you turn around, ready to flee.

“Y/n?” Kiri’s hushed voice makes to spin around, surprised. “Why are you here?” a look of puzzlement on her face, she peeks behind you, looking for Neteyam and Ta’sun before focusing back on you. Her expression softens, taking in the sight of her sister’s puffy eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. “...what happened? Come.” she asks through a gasp, dragging you in her tent.

She sits you next to her on her cot, waiting patiently for you to speak on your own. All you can do is bury your face into your hands and cry silent tears. Snaking her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you in, swaying you both side to side.

“Tsmuke [sister].” her tongue clicks, “tell me what’s the matter, hm?” she hums, rubbing your arm.

Breath skipping uncontrollably, you try to tell her what happened, only for it to come out as gibberish. All except for the words “you’re going to be mad at me.”

“Y/n. Take a breath. You’re okay. You’re safe. I won’t be upset with you, okay?” she calms you, holding you in front of her firmly by the arms. “Okay?” she repeats slowly.

You nod quickly, wiping away your tears. “I think that I am pregnant.”

Kiri searches your eyes, a look of puzzlement washing over her once more. “I don’t understand. Isn’t this a good thing? A blessing, yes? And why would I be upset with you about that?”

“B-because. I-I have been hiding it from Neteyam. I’ve been a horrid mate. I didn’t know my heat would come. I’ve been so cold and distant from him. And – and he doesn’t understand why! I try my best to hide my symptoms, but I just end up avoiding him. Lashing out on h-him. He – he thinks it’s his fault. That he did something wrong. I want to tell him, but... I don’t know how.” you blubber on and on, eventually looking up at Kiri’s even more puzzled face. “He’s going to be upset with me, Kiri.” you voice hushes down into a hoarse whisper, bottom lip trembling.

“Y/n.” she huffs out as a sigh. “Why would he be upset? Was he upset when you found out about Ta’sun? No. He loves being a father. Why would he be... upset?” she repeats her question, grimacing at the word. She knows her brother puts his mate and child over anything – anyone.

“He said it himself. H-he thanked Eywa... that he didn’t get me pregnant. He thinks it’s too soon – too soon for Ta’sun to have a younger sibling. He’s been like this since we first mated, Kiri. He told me once that I was lucky I didn’t get pregnant on my first heat. I just, I know he will be upset with-” your blubber is cut short by Kiri holding your face.

“Tell. Him.” she states firmly, pursing her lips slightly. She pulls you in, wrapping her arms around you. “Tell him, y/n. Trust me.” she hums, tightening her warm embrace. “And we need to go see grandmother. Today. Like, now.” she pulls back, raising her brows as she looks at you, as if to say ‘got it?’.

You try to smile, biting your bottom lip. Hearing Kiri’s comforting words and feeling her soothing touch lightened the weight in your heart. But it’s quickly filled with something else, something that quickened the thud of your heart. Fear.

Kiri picked up on it straight away, a gift from Eywa if you will. “Do not fret. It will be okay, no matter what she says. I am here for you. Everyone is here for you.” she says her words slowly, drilling them in your head.

Will Neteyam be here for me? You ponder.

----

“You are with child.” Mo’at grins, placing her wooden pick back into its casing. She kneels behind you, humming as she presses her palm firmly against your back. “seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], a girl child.” her grin grows wider, “Ta’sun will have tsmuke [sister].”

A baby girl.

For the first in three weeks, you feel nothing but happiness. It’s like a moment of silence in all the noise, all the buzz that’s been ringing non-stop in your head. All the voices finally hush, leaving your heart warm, and light. A moment of euphoria.

A moment.

A silent gasp parts Mo’at’s lips. Eyes rolling back into her head, she mutters under her breath – something you can’t quite make out. “Grandmother?” Kiri squeaks quietly, afraid to disturb the elder in trance. Mo’at’s grin falls quickly.

“Kiri?” you reach your hand out to find her. She holds your hand, giving it a quick squeeze, reminding you of her words ‘It will be okay, no matter what she says.’

“My child. Your distress has affected your unborn. You must rest. Go. Tell your mate.” she states, slowly backing away from you.

A moment.

Waves of anxiety and guilt crash into you so hard they wind you, leaving you breathless. Not only had you been a terrible mate, but a terrible mother, ignoring your unborn – denying her existence. The heaviness of your heart returns, ten-fold, leaving no space for the happiness that was just there.

It didn’t feel real.

Is there really a baby in here? You rest a gentle hand on your abdomen.

Kiri embraces you once more, snapping you out of your daze. “Tell him, y/n. Tell him now.”

“Okay.” you mutter, getting up to walk out the healer’s tent. Kiri walks next to you, linking her arm with yours. “I got it, Kiri. Thank you.” you say monotonously, trying to feel nothing for the sake of your... baby.

“Are you sure?” she asks, slowly unlinking her arm from yours.

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m going to take my time anyways... to think some more.” your words are flat, lifeless – much like how you feel.

“Alright, y/n. The eclipse is starting, so don’t take too long. Okay?” she hesitates, reluctant to leave you alone.

“Yeah. Okay.” you say, keeping your eyes on your feet.

“Everything will be alright. Get plenty of rest.” she tries to comfort you, only to be met with your blank stare.

Parting ways, you begin the trek home. It wasn’t too far, unfortunately. You really wanted some more time to think about what you were going to say and how you were going to say it. Not only did you have to tell him that you are pregnant, but that your stress and dishonesty have been affecting the baby, too. At this point, you don’t know howhe’ll react.

How could you even say this? ‘Neteyam. I’m pregnant. A baby girl, but she’s at risk because of my careless actions’ or, how about ‘I was a piece of shit mate to you for three weeks and have been hiding my pregnancy – denying the existence of our unborn daughter, who is suffering because of it.’

Nothing you came up with was good enough. Nothing sounded right. The more you thought about it, the more it registered how badly you fucked up. Your eyes remain locked on your feet, watching each toe grip the flora beneath you, step after step. You watch as the freckles on your skin glow as the eclipse occurs. You didn’t even realize that you’d been walking aimlessly this entire time. So deep in thought, you veered off the path to your tent.

Finally looking up into the darkness, you see the bioluminescence of the panoprya, anemonids and kentens [flying fan lizard] light up the forest. “Shit.” you mutter, becoming aware of the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Doing a quick 360, it dawns on you.

You’re lost.

“Shit. Shit. How far out am I? I don’t even know where I am.” you think out loud. Without giving it a second thought, you pick a direction and walk. Unbeknownst to you, you were just venturing deeper into the forest. The sounds of the fauna frightened you, keeping you on edge, only making you walk faster, and faster. Before you know it, you’re racing towards a finish line that didn’t exist.

Winded, you stop to catch your breath, leaning against a thick tree trunk. In the distance, you spot a heavily damaged link shack. You had heard of it before, Jake told the story about his final battle with Quaritch at family dinner. But you had never seen it in person. The sight makes you dizzy. Heart thumping violently between your ribs, you press the button on your throat microphone with a shaky hand.

“Ma’ tìyawn [love].” you sniffle.

----

With the eclipse occurring, Neteyam only becomes more and more worried about you. “Ta’sun, where is your sa’nu [mummy]?” he coos quietly, looking down at his sleeping babe in his arms. “I think we should go check on her. What do you think?” he whispers.

With Ta’sun strapped tightly to his chest, he gears up with his bow and arrows and makes the quick journey to Kiri’s tent.

“Kiri!” he whispers with a harsh voice, babe still sleeping nuzzled into his chest. With no response, he calls out again. “Kiri! Y/n!”.

Silence.

Bursting through the door, Neteyam sees Kiri sound asleep. Furrowed brows raise, beaded eyes widen, pursed lips part – a shocked expression contorts his face. His legs take a second to long to respond to his commands to move. But when they do, he bolts towards Kiri, shaking her awake. Practically jumping out of her own skin, she stands in front of her brother, groggy and confused.

“Kiri. Kiri. Where is y/n? She told me she was coming here, to talk to you. Where is she?” he asks frantically, grip tightening on his sister’s upper arm.

“She – she went home! We went to see Mo’at and then she went home. Didn’t she tell you?” Kiri hand snaps to her forehead as she stares blearily at her brother.

Ta’sun stirs against his father’s chest. Neteyam bounces reflexively, hushing his voice to a harsh whisper. “No! Tell me what? Why did you go to see Mo’at? Where is y/n?”

A crackle of static comes through Neteyam’s earpiece.

“Ma’ tìyawn [love].” you sniffle.

Neteyam’s heart skips a beat. He hasn’t heard you call him that in weeks. It sounds as if you’re crying, voice hushed, yet harsh. He could hear the whooping and cackling of nocturnal creatures in the background and your heavy breaths.

“Ma’ yawne... Where are you?” he chokes out, unwrapping the prrsmung [carrier] from his chest, signalling with his eyes that Kiri take the baby.

“If I tell you, you’re going to be mad, my ‘teyam.” you murmur.

Kiri takes the baby gently, so not to wake him. Neteyam fixes his bow to his chest, hurrying out of Kiri’s tent. “I won’t be mad. Just tell me, love.” he tries not to sound panicked, as he makes his way towards the forest.

“I – I don’t know.” you squeak, fear evident in your voice. “I think I’m at the old shack... the forbidden one.”

Oh, shit.

“Okay. Okay. Stay there. Do not move, understand? It is forbidden for a reason. I am coming now, just – please.” his own fear shook his voice, too.

“O-okay, my Nete. I... need to tell you s-something.” your breath hitches.

“Tell me when I get there, okay? I’m coming now. Just stay there.” he hums, trying to calm you down. By the way you were speaking it sounded as if you were trying to mutter your last words to him, and that terrified him.

“No, i-it can’t wait. It’s important. I don’t even know how to stay it, Nete. I’m just so sorry. I really am. I love you, so much. And I miss you. I miss Ta’sun.” you blabber, tears freely flowing down your cheeks.

“Y/n. Please. You are scaring me now. What is going on?” his voice bounces as he weaves through the panoprya and jutting tree branches. He has not heard you speak like this in weeks.

“I need to tell you... the truth. All of it. I’m pr – ” a sudden gasp, then static.

“Y/n? Y/n?” he repeats, thuds becoming louder as his heels strike the ground harder – faster. “y/n?!”

---- [repetition of words incoming]

The eclipse is in full bloom, only the bioluminescence around you can be seen – leaving you with few senses to rely on. Ethereal sounds of the forest echo in your ears, the scaly bark of the tree scrapes the skin on your back, wafting the scent of your own blood by your nose. A terrible feeling wrings your gut, making you queasy. Or perhaps that was the budding babe in your womb. It’s an eerie feeling – right dead in the pit of your stomach. It frightens you... terrifies you. It feels as if...

...someone is watching you.

You huddle further into the tree, closing your eyes to concentrate on your mates’ voice. “Okay. Okay. Stay there. Do not move, understand? It is forbidden for a reason. I am coming now, just – please.” Neteyam’s shaky voice comes through your earpiece.

Snap. No other than the sound of a twig breaking in two. How cliché.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, hoping that if you don’t look, it’ll go away. A hand flies to your mouth – your poor attempt at keeping the sounds of your heavy breaths to a minimum. The last time you were this petrified was when Auzo assaulted you in broad day light. What if that day repeats? What if something... someone, is watching you?

You had to tell him, now.

“O-okay, my Nete. I... need to tell you s-something.” you whisper into your hand, breath hitching.

“Tell me when I get there, okay? I’m coming now. Just stay there.” he tries to soothe his shaky voice.

Your eyes fly open to the rustle of the lush foliage above you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I want to go home to my mate. To Ta’sun. You let go a breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

“No, i-it can’t wait. It’s important. I don’t even know how to stay it, Nete. I’m just so sorry. I really am. I love you, so much. And I miss you. I miss Ta’sun.” you blabber out a little too loudly, tears stinging your face.

“Y/n. Please. You are scaring me now. What is going on?” his bouncing voice is panic-stricken.

The rustling intensifies.

You gulp down a wad of spit. The hand covering your mouth trembles, droplets of tears falling on its luminescent freckles. “I need to tell you... the truth. All of it. I’m pr – ”

You gasp suddenly, hitting the floor with a thud. Something – someone is on top of you, pinning you face down. The earpiece falls out your ear, cutting off Neteyam shouting your name. It all happens so quick. In a moment, he has your hands tied behind your back, and a knife to your throat.

“Up.” A chilling voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Now!” he booms, jerking you up by the base of your queue. A deafening whimper parts your lips as you stand on the tips of your toes, trying your best to make space between your jugular and the knife’s blade.

He looks quickly at your fingers, counting ten in total. “Colonel. It’s Zhang. We got a half-breed. Site 26. Over.” he pages Quaritch.

Zhang? Colonel? As in... Colonel Quaritch?

Your belly ached at the words, twisting, and turning into a tight knot. Heart thumping violently against your ribs, your hold your breath, afraid of the blade a millimetre away from your throat.

“You’re coming with us, buttercup. Care to explain how you got ten fingers?” he snarls, pressing himself against you.

“’m not your fucking buttercup.” you squeeze out of clenched teeth, surprised by your own words.

Zhang chuckles deeply, tightening his grip on your queue, earning a high-pitched squeal from you. “Got a lil’ fight in ya’. Sit still, pretty. We got ways to make ya’ talk.”

“Two clicks out. Over.” a faint voice comes through his earpiece.

The magnitude of the situation quickly dawns on you. If you didn’t do something – if you didn’t get out now, you’d be kidnapped and tortured. An image of Ta’sun crying for his sa’nu [mama] in Neteyam’s arms flashes before you, igniting a roaring flame in your heart – incinerating the heaviness in it. Dagger pressed firmly to your throat, hand gripping your queue, binds on your wrists – the only thing free was your mouth.

----

Neteyam cautiously approaches the prohibited area, old link shack in sight. Hearing your high-pitched squeal, he quickly camouflages himself in the tall flora. Peeking through the slivers of the leaves, he catches the sight of what seems to be a Na’vi male pressing against you, holding a knife to your throat. He inhales sharply, blood bubbling under his skin, lips curling over his teeth.

Repositioning his stance, he loads his bow in an instant, ready to make his first kill. Hot air huffing through his nostrils, fury blurs his vision. He holds his breath, attempting to still his shaky hand as he pulls the fatal arrow back against his cheek. Heart galloping like a direhorse, he exhales slowly, aiming the pointed arrowhead at his prey.

“I have a baby... at home waiting for me... he’s – he’s almost five months old.” you speak slowly as tears stream down your face. Neteyam’s ears perk up at the sound of your small voice.

“Shut it, buttercup.” Zhang snaps at you, leaving a warning on your throat.

“He... needs his mama.” you choke out between hitched breaths, tears mixing with the blood trickling down your chest. Neteyam grimaces at your words, struggling to get a clear shot.

“Shut it!” He shouts, twisting the base of your queue.

“Mmmn!” you muffle out a cry, body tensing – eyes squeezing shut. “Please.” you breathe.

“Fuck!” Zhang yells angrily, spinning you around to face his towering frame. “Didn’t I tell you to fucking shut it?” he yanks your head back, positioning the tip of his dagger to your jugular.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that your words were getting to him, triggering him. It was as if he didn’t want to hear that you were a real person, with a life, a family – a baby in your belly. Not only did you have a baby at home, but you had one here with you, inside your womb. Your heart skips a beat as you prepare yourself to utter the words – to face the truth.

“I’m pregnant.” you mouth, words catching in your throat. Top lip twitching from rage, he withdraws his dagger, ready to make the lethal cut. “No. No! I’m pregnant! P-please.” you cry out, words dislodging abruptly – loudly. Your words echo in your ears, fuelling the menacing fire in your heart to incinerate whatever denial or doubt you had remaining.

Neteyam’s heart throbs in his chest, a surge of adrenaline rushing through him. His eyes widen, his focus becoming clear and sharp. His mate needs him – his mate who carries his unborn. Zhang’s grip loosens ever so slightly, predatory leer softening for a millisecond, providing Neteyam with a clear shot.

His releases his arrow of death, bowstring snapping against his forearm, impaling his prey through his back. You witness his body jolt, eyes dilate and constrict before they dim completely. His lifeless body slumps to the ground, arrow protruding out of his back as blood pools at your feet. Your eyes snap up, to see Neteyam’s wide stance, chest heaving violently from making his first kill. Your eyes lock with his, riddled with worry and anger.

“Neteyam!” you sob loudly, watching him bolt towards you.

“Did he touch you?!” he raises his voice, gripping your arms to move you back to examine your condition.

“N-no!” you stutter, in absolute shock.

Pulling you into his arms, he holds you tightly, one hand on the back of your head and the other fiddling with the tie on your wrists. “Mawey. Mawey [calm]. I am here. You’re safe.” he pants shakily, adrenaline still coursing viciously through his veins. “You’re safe.” he repeats breathily, finally freeing you from your restraints.

He steps back, eyes trailing your body thoroughly, narrowing slightly as they pass the wound on your throat. They make their way down your chest, watching at the red beads of blood and tears drip down your stomach. His gaze lingers at your abdomen, taking in the sight of the small bump left by Ta’sun – now filled by his unborn. Eyes snapping back up to yours, he swallows thickly.

“Is it true? Are you pregnant?” he asks breathlessly, a hand slipping from your arm to rest on your womb.

You nod weakly, tears welling up in your eyes once more. “Yes, Nete.” you catch your breath. “I am. I’m pregnant. I’m s-so sorry.” You bawl, salty tears stinging the wound on your neck.

Tears threaten to fall from his glossy eyes as he smiles wobbly, his hand cupping your cheek. “You’re pregnant. Oh, ma’ yawne, you are pregnant.” he breathes, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

“I – I didn’t know my heat would come. I understand why you’re upset, that you’re not ready for another. I’m so sorry, Nete. I should’ve known, and I – I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, so terrible to you. And Mo’at says she is stressed, all because of me, and-” you sob hysterically, Neteyam cutting you off to embrace you closely.

“She? A girl?” he asks quickly, pulling you closer into his chest. “We’re having a baby girl?” his tears overflow, rolling down his cheeks.

You nod into his chest, sobbing loudly. He shushes you, swaying you from side to side, rubbing the dip of your back. “Shh, my love. You have made me the happiest man alive, bringing life to our family once more. Do not fret, ma’ yawne. It is going to be okay. She will be okay.” He hums, planting a kiss on your head.

The whirring of a kunsip [scorpion gunship/helicopter] can be heard in the distance, throwing Neteyam back into the thick of his protective urges. “Come. Come. We must go. Quickly.” he whispers, grabbing your hand and running through the forest back to hometree.

----

Neteyam barges into his sleeping grandmother’s tent, rousing her out of her sleep. “Grandmother!”

The elder sits up groggily, used to her sleep being disturbed as Tsahik. “What is it, Neteyam?” she croaks.

“It is y/n. Please, check her.” he huffs, out of breath from the trek. He ended up carrying you back home half way, not wanting the baby to be under any more stress.

“Put me down, my Nete. Grandmother, I’m fine really, it is just a scratch.” you reassure the elder.

“What happened, my child? How did you get such a wound?” she goes for her concoction of herbs, smearing it over the deep cut. Neteyam explains briefly, as Mo’at makes her way around to your back, placing her cold palm flush against your spine.

“Baby is strong.” She hums, a surprised expression washing over her face. “What have you done since I last saw you?”

You smile weakly, glancing at Neteyam. He takes his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “I told my mate.”

Mo’at’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her puzzled expression relaxing into one of happiness. “I see.” she states, corners of her lips curling upwards. “Everything is good. Get dome rest. Both of you.”

“Thank you, grandmother.” you shoot her a smile, thankful for her help. Neteyam sweeps three fingers from his forehead, also thanking his grandmother.

He turns to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Kiri has Ta’sun. Shall we go?”

You nod hastily, a smile plastered on your face. Oh, how you longed to see your son after such an ordeal.

Arriving at Kiri’s tent, Neteyam quietly enters to see Kiri pacing back and forth. “Neteyam! Y/n!” she whispers loudly. She sees your banged up condition, scanning your body frantically. She hugs you tightly, full of guilt for not walking you home. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I should have taken you home.” she pulls away from the hug. “Are you okay? What happened?”.

You explain the night’s events to Kiri, letting her know that it wasn’t her fault and she shouldn’t be sorry.

“I’m just glad you’re okay now. My brother does a good job at protecting you. Doesn’t he?” Kiri shoots a smile at her brother before glancing back to you. “I’m also happy to hear your baby is doing better. Speaking of, Ta’sun is fast asleep.” Kiri gestures to the sleeping babe in her cot. “Just got him down, too. So I hope you’re not thinking of taking my prrnen [baby] from me.” She smiles, knowing you two could use a good nights rest.

Neteyam and you share a quick glance, wondering if you should take her up on her offer.

“Go. You guys need the rest, look at you both.” she giggles quietly, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you, Kiri” you whisper, nose scrunching the wider your smile grows.

“Sister.” Neteyam smirks, thanking her silently with his eyes. You both walk out of Kiri’s tent towards yours, hand in hand.

----

Neteyam holds your hand tightly, relishing in the first form of intimacy he’s had from you in weeks. He’s careful not to take it any further than that, not wanting to pressure you into doing something you weren’t ready for. He’d wait on you for as long as you need him to. Anything for his beloved.

“My love. You must be exhausted.” he hums, opening the door of your tent, helping you step under the flap. “Let us get you into bed, yes?” He coos, as if you were Ta’sun that he were putting to sleep. He walks you over to the cot, trying to get you to lay down.

“Neteyam.” You whisper, fighting his gentle pushes to stay on your feet.

He stops, turning his head and quickly untwining his fingers from yours to take a step back, thinking he’s upset you again.

“Ma’ teyam.” you whisper once more, two fingers brushing the underside of his chin to have him face you.

His head follows the soft tug of your digits, glossy amber eyes staring deeply into yours. Wetting your bottom lip with a quick swipe of your tongue, you lessen the space between your bodies, dropping your gaze down to his lips. He stays still, body rigid, jaw clenched as he returns his gaze to your glistening lips. His stomach flutters as he watches you tilt your chin upwards, eyelids growing heavy.

Brushing your top lip against his, you linger there, open-mouthed, sharing the same breath. He closes his eyes, savouring your closeness, your warmth. Breaths turn raggedy as the tension buds in your chests. Your eyes close, hand smoothing over his jaw, up the nape of his neck. You pull him closer, noses brushing against one another, foreheads pressing firmly together.

“Kiss me” you pant.

His lips softly press against yours, lingering for a second too long to take in your silken skin. He pulls away, catching his breath. Your eyes pop open, gaze now boring into his half-lidded eyes, searching them for an answer.

“Kiss me.” you breathe needily, fingers interlacing with the braids at the back of his head.

Chest heaving against yours, his lustful eyes explore yours for a moment before dropping down to your flushed lips. He swallows thickly, crashing his lips into yours once more, eager for your touch – your love. Kisses so rough, so hungry that they bruise yours. Being starved for so long he has his fill greedily, crushing the suppleness of your lips with his, gently nipping at your skin.

He pulls away to catch his breath before diving back in with his tongue. His hands quickly move up to your cheeks, cupping them firmly, pulling you into his needy kisses as if you could even get any closer. He breaks the kiss, panting raggedy breaths into your open mouth, snapping his eyes open to look deeply into yours once more.

“I missed you” he pants quickly, before his tongue briefly swipes your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. You reciprocate the hunger as the ache in your lungs worsen from the words you inhaled. Your tongues roll over one another, tasting the desperation pooling in each other’s cheeks. Eager hands explore his body, brushing over his pulsing neck down to his hot chest, swiping around to his broad back as they tickle their way down to the band of his loincloth.

“’m sorry, ma’ muntxatan [husband].” you breathe into his mouth, slipping your trembling fingers under the purple cloth, only for a hand to stop you. He pulls away once more.

“ma’ muntxate [wife].” he whispers, forehead pushing into yours, “I’m sorry. I have left you alone in this.” he brings your hand to your belly, cupping it with his. “I have made you feel like you cannot be honest with me... Like I would be... upset, about you carrying my child. I am so sorry.” he grimaces, choking back his tears as he places another hand on your stomach. “You are my most cherished... most prized possession. Everything you do brings light to my life. A sense of purpose.” he blubbers, teardrops crashing onto his cheeks. “I-I love you, ma’ txe’lan”

“Oh, Nete.” you squeeze out a closing throat, “I love you, my sweet Nete. I have been so cold.” you cry quietly, untwining your fingers from his hair to gently caress his queue. “I have denied you of my love... my touch.” your hand strokes the length of his queue, bringing it over his shoulder – making his tail wrap around your waist.

“I have lied to you.” you squeak, not wanting to say the words. “I do not deserve you.” you weep quietly.

“Shh. Shh, my love.” he hums low in his chest, meeting the softness of your lips once again. A hand leaves your stomach, sliding up your back to gently graze your queue. “I want you. I need you.” a soft, needy moan parts your lips, “Please” he brings your queue over your shoulder, silently asking for tsaheylu.

You nod hastily, smiling so hard that your front teeth click harshly against his. You both look down, witnessing your tendrils dance excitedly with one another before melting together to become one. A gasp catches in both your throats as your breath syncs together. You snap your gaze up to witness his pupils blackening his eyes, leaving nothing but a thin amber ring.

“I see you.” you gasp in unison, rubbing your faces against one another.

Sore lips crash into each other, desperate for an even deeper connection. Muddled thoughts race through your minds, as you try to express your immense adoration and love you have for one another. He hurriedly lowers you onto the cot, moving his feverish kisses down your throat, being careful not to graze your wound. Little, sweet moans escape your open mouth, head sinking back into the cushiony bedding as he settles between your legs. Wet kisses leave a trail of saliva down to your chest, where he takes your stiff nipple into his warm mouth, suckling gently. Your soft moans quickly morph into whimpers, thighs rubbing together to satiate the budding heat of your sex.

“Neteyam!” you whine lowly, hand snaking up his back to grip his hair once more.

He pops off your breast, staring up at you with love in his eyes. “Call me your tìyawn” he mumbles, kissing the dip between your breasts, making his way down to your stomach.

“Ma’ tìyawn...” you moan breathily, screwing your eyes shut at the sensation of his tongue trailing down your stomach.

“Yes? oeyä sevin [my pretty] ... mother of my children” he hums, planting wet kisses on your lower stomach.

“Ma’ tìyawn! I... I miss – Oh!” you gasp, eyes flying open as you feel his kisses move quickly to the soddened cloth covering the soft flesh between your glossy thighs.

“I miss you, too.” he mumbles through a smile before untying the flimsy knot on your loincloth with his teeth. He stares longingly at your plump, glistening slit, only glancing up at you briefly to make sure you’re okay with what he’s doing. “Can I?” he asks, breath hitching from his pounding heart. Another hasty nod grants him permission.

Wasting not another second, he presses his nose between your folds, taking in a deep breath to savour the scent of your arousal. He forgot how good you smelled pregnant. It only riles him up more, his fingers digging into your thighs to pin them to the bed. He opens his mouth, wide, and laps up your sweet nectar dipping slowly from your opening, all the way up to the sensitive nub at the top of your cunt. His single swipe of his tongue makes your body jolt, a hand fly to his head to shove him closer. Thighs trying to break free of their restraints, you look down to see his half-lidded eyes full of lust staring up at you intently as the flat of his tongue plays with your clit.

You taste so good pregnant, y/n. His words echo in your mind as he holds eye contact with you. Cum in my mouth, let me taste more of you.

Your little mewls weren’t so little anymore, they morph into loud, wanton, drawn out moans. The heat pooling in your chest trickles down your spine into your already-full womb, making your legs shake even more.

“Teyam! Oh - Ugh! Please, teyam!” you beg loudly, for what - you’re not sure.

He gives it to you though, knowing exactly what to do to tip you over the edge. Two digits prod at your sopping entrance, wiggling around to burrow their way into your heat. Your moans lodge in your throat once his lengthy fingers bottom out in your cunt, and they dislodge once his fingers furl into your sweet spot. Head snapping forward, an arm propping up your torso, you spread your legs as wide as they can go and push your pelvis harder into his relentless licks.

That’s it, mama. Cum for daddy. He thinks loudly, his own hips snapping to grind his painfully hard cock into the foot of the cot.

“Ugh! Oh f-fuck! Yesyesyesyes!” you release silent cries, violently humping his face as you chase your climax.

The bond makes it so that he feels it too, that heat pooling deep in your pelvis... that hot coil ready to snap into two. His hips grind harder into the cot, desperate to find relief for his aching, throbbing cock. He can’t help but grunt into your pussy, feeling his own coil about to snap.

“m’ gonna – m’ gonna fucking cum! I – Oh! I’m cumming – cumming!” you cry out, head dipping back as you give his face two forceful thrusts, pussy walls fluttering wildly around his fingers. He yanks them out in a hurry, cupping your quivering hole with his mouth to get his fill of your thick, sweetened nectar.

“Mm – mhmm” He lets loose throaty, broken groans into your cunt, a quick pause for every gulp of your cum he swallows. His cock only grinds harder against the cot as he feels the warmth of your cum trickle down his throat. He pulls away with a *pwah*, gasping for air. Quickly sucking his fingers dry, he crawls towards you.

“Fuck. I missed having my fill of you when you’re pregnant.” he moans breathily, smoothing his palm over your belly as he lines his jumping, veiny cock with your slit.

The words make your already flushed cheeks heat up even more, ridding any remanence of doubt you had left in your heart. “Please, ma’ yawnetu [love].” your lungs tremble.

“Tell me, mama. Tell me what you need.” he moans breathily, rubbing his already-wet cockhead between your plump folds, beads of precum oozing onto your throbbing clit.

“Mmm – I need you... h-here” you pant, shoving your hand between your sticky pelvises to shift his tip to your entrance.

“Yeah?” he smiles, crouching over you to pant hot breaths into the shell of your ear. “And then what?” he whispers shakily into your ear, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

“And then this.” you utter under a whisper, wrapping your wobbly legs around his hips, sinking him slowly inside of you. A quick hand tilts your chin to meet your chest, making you watch as his your heat swallows his cock, inch by inch. The deeper he goes, the louder your strained whines grow.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” he hums, watching himself bottom out in your pussy.

“I love you.” It slips out, just as his tip presses against your cervix. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, to see they’ve glossed over with tears.

“I love you.” he utters breathily, kissing you gently as he sets a languid pace with his hips.

He’s already so, so close, all from a few slow thrusts. Your walls clamp around him, still recovering from the orgasm that rippled through your entire being. Feeling your intense arousal through tsaheylu only amplified his, sending his hips into a frenzy – spasming slow and deep inside of your pussy. The bump of his throbbing cockhead brushes repeatedly against your sweet spot, the sensation pulsing through your queue only makes him rut into it even more. He unwraps your leg from his waist, hoisting it up over his shoulder, and leans into you so deep that your knee presses against your cheek.

“Ah! Ngh... t-teyam” you yelp out, his pelvis so flush against yours that his pelvic bone grinds against your clit.

“Too deep?” he groans, pulling out of you slightly.

“No, no. It’s so good... ‘s so good” you mumble as you wrap your arms around his neck and focus on the immense pleasure radiating through your entire body.

“Good.” he breathes, lazily thrusting into you, massaging your sweet spot with the swollen tip of his cock. “Ma’ yawnetu. You feel so good.” he bites back a moan, trying his best to restrain himself from being too rough with you.

“Do it, tìyawn.” you moan, feeling his resistance through tsaheylu. “Fuck me. Faster... Harder, please.” you breath into his mouth, tightening the leg that’s wrapped around him.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, or the baby.” he grunts, burying his face into the nook of your neck.

“Shh... do it, my teyam. I want it. I want you. I need you. I love you.” you blubber out, rutting your hips into his, chasing the feeling budding in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh – oh fuck, y/n.” he groans, looking down at you buck your hips into him.

“Please!” you cry out, feeling the swell of your sweet spot again.

He gives into his mate’s wishes, picking up the speed of his hips, working sweet squelching noises out of your cunt with his fast, insistent strokes. Your quiet, hoarse moans pierce his eardrums, the more he pounds into you, his heavy, swollen balls slapping noisily against the curve of your bottom.

“Oh – oh y/n. You... ngh, you’re so fucking wet. I – I’m gonna – hgnh- ” he grunts lowly into your neck before lifting his head up to look into your eyes. His open mouth brushes against yours, panting in and out your shared air.

“M-me too, my teyam. Faster! Faster!” you huff loudly into his mouth, tears trickling down your cheeks as the knot in your stomach quickly unravels. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, begging to release it’s essence inside of your hot cunt. “Cum i-inside me.” you pant into his mouth, wanting your cunt and his cock to flutter at the same time.

“Mmn. Fuck!” he growls deeply, forcing your leg further back against your face.

“Holy fuck! Cumming!” you squeal, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh –” a guttural, loud groan evades his throat as he dips his head back from the sensation of your fluttering pussy walls and the sting of your bite. He gives you two, hard thrusts – his spasming cock emptying its heavy, thick load inside your cunt. He pulls out of you quickly, resting his hung, twitching cock on your thigh as he rocks into it, riding out the last lap of his high.

“I love you, Neteyam.” the trembling words slip out once more, before you close your heavy lidded eyes.

“I love you, y/n.” he coos, nuzzling into your neck to cherish the moment.

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman @fanboyluvr @boohoobaby @that-one-lightskin @st-cass @jakesully-sbabygirl @urfavgirlmakenna @zaddyskye69 @iikatsukii @netemoon @lu-the-ghost-reader

THIS IS FUCKING GIF I MADE IT SUCKS WHY IS IT SO FUCKING SMALL HELP ME

creds to my baby bubble anon for the gif ilysm

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elxgantcaptain · 1 year

Note

[ FIGHT ] for receiving muse to not recognize sender or medical staff trying to help them, due to being drugged or otherwise disoriented – so they fight.

Reunion after (physical) trauma prompts [accepting]

How long had it been since he had first woken up? With Jafar by his side and everything feeling so painful and numb? Had it been nothing but a dream? Currently, it felt like it had been.

Hook was trapped in his nightmares. Now living and walking alongside him like ghosts and death himself, hand on his shoulder and threatening to pull him straight down to the bowels of hell.

He had shot up awake, despite the wounds, despite the pain and the frail nature of his body. His eyes were wide and pupils small with nothing but panic and fear written across his features, he was awake, but he couldn't SEE anything in front of him for what it was.

There was the taste of salt on his tongue, the rush of wind and rain, thunder and lightening and screams that deafened him amongst the howling weather. The doctors or nurses that were aiding him looked like nothing but the ghosts of the damned and the dead, screaming at him, reaching for him. He could see his crew, he could see Smee, groaning and gasping with nothing but water dripping from their maws.

He had grabbed whatever had been closest to him, swinging it violently towards them and begging and shouting in a threatening, fearful manner. "GET AWAY! GET BACK!"

And then he turned, feeling something grab his shoulder and he attempted to throw a hit towards them. Eyes widened as he could see the jaws of a crocodile looming down on him, with the voices and laughter of DAMN CHILDREN echoing like distant, threatening drums in his ears.

Hook screamed, thrashing and throwing and hitting with anything that he could. Trapped in his nightmares, in his horror and memories of all he had lost.

#angstangstangst #grandvizier #he thinks jafar is the croc uwu

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geotjwrs · 3 months

Text

hold me

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; ANGSTANGSTANGST!!

The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light on the walls of the cozy living room. Y/N sat on the couch, his fingers lightly grazing over the pages of a script he was supposed to be learning. His mind, however, was far from the lines in front of him. He glanced over at Jenna, who was busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, her movements graceful and precise.

She caught his eye and smiled, the sight of which warmed his heart despite the cold shadow looming over their lives. He forced a smile back, trying to keep his thoughts from drifting to the harsh reality they were facing.

A month ago, everything had changed. Y/N, the rising star known for his roles in "Stranger Things," "Scream 6," and "Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse," had been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. The prognosis was grim; the treatments hadn't worked. Now, he was left with a few precious months, a fact he hadn't been able to hide from Jenna for long.

They had cried together, fought the despair together, and tried every possible treatment. But the cruel truth remained: their time was running out.

"Hey, dinner's almost ready," Jenna called out, breaking his reverie. Her voice was light, but he could hear the underlying strain.

"Smells amazing," he replied, setting the script aside and rising to join her. He walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into him, her hands still busy chopping vegetables.

"I was thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "that we should start ticking off items from our bucket list."

Jenna turned in his arms to face him, her eyes searching his. "You mean...?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Let's not waste another moment. Let's spend these months doing everything we've ever dreamed of."

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she blinked them away quickly. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's do it."

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Jenna embarked on an adventure of a lifetime. They visited the places they'd always talked about but never had the time to see. From the bustling streets of Tokyo to the serene beaches of the Maldives, they soaked in every moment, every sight, every experience.

In Paris, they danced under the Eiffel Tower, the twinkling lights reflecting in Jenna's eyes as Y/N spun her around. The city of love lived up to its name, and they reveled in each other's presence, forgetting the world around them.

"Remember our first trip to Paris?" Jenna asked one evening as they strolled along the Seine.

"How could I forget?" Y/N replied with a chuckle. "You almost pushed me into the river trying to get that perfect photo."

She laughed, leaning into him. "Best photo we ever took."

In New York, they saw Broadway shows and wandered through Central Park hand in hand, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the city. They visited the Museum of Modern Art, where Jenna marveled at the art while Y/N tried to make sense of it.

"Art is supposed to make you feel something," Jenna explained as they stood before a particularly abstract piece.

"It makes me feel confused," Y/N admitted, making her giggle.

They laughed, they cried, and they held each other through the pain and the joy. Each city, each experience was a treasure, a memory to hold onto when the inevitable came.

On quieter days, they stayed home, cooking together, watching their favorite movies, and simply enjoying each other's company. They talked about the future they would never have, and while it hurt, it also brought them closer.

"Do you remember the first time we cooked together?" Jenna asked one evening as they prepared dinner.

"I remember burning the pasta," Y/N replied with a grin.

"You were so confident," she teased, "and so wrong."

They laughed, their shared memories a comforting reminder of their journey together.

One particularly memorable evening was spent in an Italian vineyard, where they tasted wines, sampled local cheeses, and watched the stars come out in a clear Tuscan sky. They sat on a blanket, Y/N leaning against a tree with Jenna nestled between his legs, her head resting on his chest.

"This is perfect," Jenna whispered, looking up at the stars.

"You're perfect," Y/N replied, kissing the top of her head.

They shared dreams and whispered secrets, their words a blend of joy and sorrow, hope and despair. Every moment was cherished, every second a precious memory in the making.

As the months progressed, Y/N's health declined steadily. There were days when the pain was almost unbearable, but Jenna was always there, her presence a soothing balm. She became adept at administering his medications, learned how to help him through the worst of it, and, most importantly, she never let him feel alone.

In the spring, they returned to their home, deciding to spend the remaining time in familiar surroundings. Their days were filled with love and tenderness, every moment a cherished memory in the making. They talked about their favorite moments, shared stories from their childhoods, and planned small, manageable adventures nearby.

One warm afternoon, Y/N took Jenna to a secluded spot by a lake. They had a picnic, complete with her favorite sandwiches and a bottle of wine they had brought back from Italy. They laughed, reminisced, and watched the sunset together. As the sky turned a deep orange and the stars began to appear, Y/N took Jenna's hand.

"I want you to promise me something," he said softly, his eyes locked onto hers.

"Anything," she replied, her voice trembling.

"When I'm gone, I want you to keep living your life to the fullest. Keep acting, keep shining, and keep spreading joy. You have so much to give, Jenna. Don't let my absence hold you back."

Tears streamed down her face, but she nodded. "I promise," she whispered. "I promise I'll do my best."

The final weeks were the hardest. Y/N's strength waned, and he spent more time in bed, too weak to do much of anything. Jenna remained his constant companion, reading to him, singing to him, and holding him close when the pain became too much.

One night, as a storm raged outside, Y/N woke up gasping for breath. Jenna was by his side in an instant, her heart pounding with fear. She held him, murmuring soothing words, her tears mingling with his.

"Jenna," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Hold me."

She climbed into the bed beside him, cradling him in her arms. He buried his face in her neck, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I love you," he said, his voice growing weaker with each word. "Thank you...for everything."

"I love you too," she replied, her voice breaking. "Always."

Y/N's breathing slowed, and he closed his eyes, a peaceful expression settling on his face. Jenna held him tighter, feeling his heart beat against hers. As the storm outside began to subside, Y/N took his final breath, surrounded by love.

Jenna stayed with him for a long time, her heart shattered yet filled with gratitude for the time they had shared. She kept her promise, continuing to live her life to the fullest, carrying Y/N's love and memory with her always.

In the days that followed, Jenna honored his memory by living as he had asked her to. She continued to act, to bring joy and inspiration to others. And though the pain of losing Y/N never fully left her, she carried his love with her, a beacon of light guiding her through the darkness.

Their story was one of love and loss, of hope and heartbreak. Jenna found solace in the memories they had created, drawing strength from the time they had shared. She often visited the places they had been, feeling his presence beside her, whispering words of encouragement and love.

Years passed, and Jenna's career flourished. She took on roles that challenged her, inspired her, and kept Y/N's spirit alive. Every performance, every success was a tribute to him, a way to honor the promise she had made.

One evening, after a particularly successful premiere, Jenna found herself alone on the balcony of her apartment. The city lights stretched out before her, a sea of twinkling stars in their own right. She looked up at the sky, feeling the familiar ache of loss but also the warmth of his memory.

"You'd be proud of me," she whispered to the stars. "I hope I'm making you proud."

In the quiet of the night, she felt a gentle breeze, as if Y/N was answering her. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely, but this time, they were tears of gratitude, not just sorrow.

Jenna continued to live her life to the fullest, keeping Y/N's memory alive in everything she did. She spoke about him often in interviews, sharing their story with the world. Fans and colleagues alike were moved by her strength, her resilience, and the deep love that had defined their relationship.

"Y/N taught me to live fully, to love deeply, and to never take a single moment for granted," she would say, her voice filled with emotion. "He may not be here physically, but his spirit is with me always."

And so, their story continued, a testament to the power of love, the resilience of the human spirit, and the beauty of living each day as if it were your last. Jenna carried Y/N's love with her, a guiding light in the darkest of times, a reminder that even in the face of inevitable sorrow, there is always hope, always joy, always love.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix #dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot

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tw1l1te · 7 months

Text

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 6

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Negative mental health, trauma flashbacks, angstangstangst, some comfort

This chapter is heavier in terms of angst and trauma, just to put it out there.

₊˚✩⊹

This felt nice. Stomachs were full, a few of the boys were playing a card game, you were wrapped up in an old quilt sitting on the couch in the main room. Malon hands you a cup of tea, which you cradle in your hands, occasionally sipping on. You could feel Time’s eyes on you and it was making you nervous again. You needed air.

You whisper to Malon that you’re gonna step out for a bit, needing some alone time. She nods, a worried expression crossing her features, but you wave it off as “needing a breather from the rambunctious boys”, and she nods with understanding.

Closing the door behind you with a soft ‘click’, you walk outside, arms wrapped around your waist. It was a bit chilly, but you didn’t want to go back in to get a jacket or blanket. You sit at the edge of the wooden porch, floorboard creaking from age and the amount of times people have walked across it. You placed your head on your propped knees, tracing the grain of the wood, thinking about your current predicament.

Almost as soon as Time crossed your mind, it seems as if fate was hearing your conflict. Time shut the door behind him and walked up to you, draping the same quilt you were cuddling with inside just a few minutes ago.

“Thought you might get cold out here.” Time stills for a moment before speaking up again, “Well, I’ll leave you-” “What was that kiss a few nights ago?” you interrupted, not wanting to miss another opportunity to talk to him about your thoughts.

The air was still for a moment, the only sound being the occasional bleat of the sheep or rustle of leaves. You hear a sigh behind you, Time coming down and sitting next to you on the porch.

“Didn’t think you wanted to talk about it, if I’m being honest. You’ve been so overwhelmed and stressed since the news of the possibility of going home and I didn’t want to overwhelm you een more.”

“I was, and still am, stressed out about it, I guess I just didn’t know how to bring it up or if you even wanted to talk about it.” you chuckled, “I guess we’re not the greatest at communication, as ironic as it is.”

He let out a breath of air. “... I did want it, if that’s what you were worried about. I liked it. I like you, Y/n, and more than just travel partners or as a friend. I want to be more than that, if you want that, that is.” he said, looking straight at you.

You’ve never heard anyone sound so genuine about admitting they like you in your entire life. Despite probably being at least twice your age (nobody knew how old he actually was, because the younger looks throw them off), he looked almost like a young teenage boy telling his crush that he liked them. It was melting your heart.

His hand stroked your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, not tearing his eyes away from you. In the low lighting, his eyes almost looked black. His thumb made his way down from your cheek, softly brushing against your bottom lip. You felt like you were about to cry from how gentle he was being with you. The physical touch and affection should’ve scared you, but you didn’t dare move.

Before you could blink again, his lips were on you again. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feeling until now. You softly moaned, placing your hands on his shoulders for some sort of support. You felt like you were in the clouds, weightless and no worries.

He tilted his head to kiss you deeper, a quiet groan leaving his throat. Both of your breathing picked up a bit, the kiss becoming deeper and more desperate, as if he was scared you were going to pull away from him.

You reluctantly pulled away for air, chest heaving a bit from the lack of oxygen. You kept your hands on him, placed flat on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. Moving up to his face, He was warm too, not fever warm, but warm enough to insinuate that he was blushing, even under the near pitch-black sky.

He suddenly cleared his throat, “We should head inside Y/n, the others might get… ideas.” he trails off, eyes still on you.

You inhale, “Time? Can we… keep this between us? For now?” you ask.

He nods without a word, offering a hand to help get up. Taking his hand, you stand up, holding the quilt under your arm. He lets you go in front of him, back into the house.

A few hours later, you were in bed, sharing a room with Twilight and Wild. The two had already stripped off their armor and had their comfy underlayers on for bed. You sifted through your pack, looking for your pajamas.

“So where’d you and the Old man go earlier?” Wild asks. Shit. You didn’t think it was that obvious, but they were heroes for goddesses’ sake. They noticed the smallest things.

“I-I wasn’t feeling well, mentally I guess. He just comforted me about my worries.” you mumbled, trying to look busy.

“Oh you both looked comforted,” Wild says, rolling his eyes. You stilled. He knew, they both knew.

“Was it that obvious?” you asked, anticipating the answer.

Twilight stood up from the chair in the corner of the room, “I’ve never seen the Old man so red and embarrassed. Either ya revealed his most embarrassin’ secret or you both got busy.” he smirked, leaning against the door frame.

You stared at him, “What are you implying?” you asked, eyes slightly narrowing. You wondered where this was going.

“I’m not implyin’ anythin’, just teasin’.” he said, but that was only half true. You could tell. You hear shuffling behind you, and a soft thump on the bed. Wild was sat on the bed, busy with his Sheikah Slate. You turn back to Twilight, finding a shift in his eyes. Something was off, but you couldn’t tell. He seemed to look past you.

Being fed up with his confusing behavior, you grabbed your clothes and went into the bathroom to change. You made sure to lock the door, as lately certain members liked to ignore the door. You did not want to deal with being walked-in on tonight.

Twilight knew he’d gotten a bit too bold there. He didn’t know what he was thinking, accusing you of being affectionate with the Old man. It was none of his business, and he knew that. Then, at the same time, why did he care? Why did he care if you liked Time? Or anyone else for that matter? You aren’t his. He doesn’t own you. No one does. You can do as you please.

But… he wants you.

He doesn’t know how or when he’s thought of you in that manner, but he can feel it. He can feel it patching up his heart piece by piece ever since Midna left him on that day, oh so many years ago. She may have felt the same, he never truly knew, but she’s long gone. You saw her leave. But you were there with him when she left him. You didn’t leave him. You didn’t leave when you saw him turn into a beast. You didn’t leave when you saw him fail over and over again. You didn’t leave when Midna did. He could hear you talking to him, consoling him, talking to him.

You stayed.

You came back. Back to him.

And he didn’t want to lose you. Not again. Not after all he’s been through and fought for.

He wasn’t fighting for Midna, or for the princess, or even for Hyrule.

He did it all… for you.

You settled into bed, which was huge, but felt constricting with a man on either side of you. Wild placed his slate on the nightstand and blew the candle out, muttering a ‘night’ to both of you, turning away from you.

Despite being in a soft, plush bed again, you couldn’t sleep. You stared at the ceiling, your thoughts running at 100 miles per hour. You and Time’s shared kiss earlier. That moment with Sky in the bathroom. Now Twilight’s sudden interest with what you were up to earlier.

What the fuck is going on with everyone?

You turn to your left, needing to lay in a different position, the last thing you were expecting was Twilight still being awake.

You frowned, he wasn’t usually the type to be awake this late at night, especially with all the exhausting and physically taxing adventuring the Chain has been doing.

He was looking at the ceiling, what you had been doing just a moment earlier.

“Twi.” you whispered, poking his shoulder. He jumps a bit, turning his head to face you.

“You ok?” you ask. He takes a breath.

“Just thinkin’.” he whispers in response. He’s lying.

“Don’t lie to me, Twi. Please.” He closes his eyes, biting his lip in frustration.

Exhaling, he turns his entire body to face you. You were now laying face-to-face, about a foot of space between you.

“You remember that one time we were running from a couple of Lynels while in Wild’s Hyrule?” he asks.

You roll your eyes, remembering the absolute insanity that you and Wild decided to pull.

“When ya used Wild’s Master Cycle to distract the Lynels into a different direction, all while laughin’ yer ass off? I was starstruck.”

You stopped breathing. This isn’t the direction you expected the night to go. No, not at all.

“In such a tense situation where we were all runnin’ for our lives? You were lightin’ up Hyrule with that radiant smile of yours, speedin’ away while two of the most dangerous monsters were racing toward you.”

“I mean… I wasn’t about to let you all get trampled. Regardless of how experienced y’all are, I could see the panic in all of your eyes.”

“Still, I was both so scared for you and amazed at your courage to distract the beasts. Not just anyone would do that for us. For me.” he whispered, taking your hands in his.

“I want to be there for you, Y/n. Protect you. I couldn’t bear losing you, not after all we’ve been through and all you’ve done for me. It’s my turn to be there for you.”

And with that, he closed the small distance between you two, propping himself up on his elbow to slightly hover over you and reach a comfortable angle.

His lips were soft, contrary to how you thought they would feel. He smelled like pine and wood, a musk that was dark but comforting. The slight stubble on his chin scratched slightly against your chin, but it felt nice. You’ve always liked stubble on men, but especially on him. It ignited something in you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the signal that you were enjoying this. That you wanted this. You continued kissing him, kisses as soft as a feather, and yet as hot as the lava in Death Mountain.

When you felt his fingertips go under your tunic, you nudged him away on instinct.

“Why won’t you let me touch you, Y/n? You’re mine, and I should be able to do as I please. What, you fucking scared of me-”

“Darlin’? You ok?” he murmurs, worried eyes flicking across your face.

You nod, not saying a word.

Rough hands pinning you down.

“What, you don’t want me to touch you? I bet you’ve been seeing that bitch-”

“Y/n?” Twilight asks again, “Are you sure you’re ok? Did I go too far?”

You shake your head, “No, sorry Twi. Just got lost in my thoughts again. And, no, you didn’t go too far. I liked it. I wanted it.” you said, giving him a small smile. He hesitates.

“I promise, Link. I liked it, I like you. A lot.” you said, cradling his face in your hands. You almost never called any of them ‘Link’, it got too confusing in the group. You only called any of them by their birth name when talking to them alone or if you were upset at them.

He kisses your palms, eyes still on you. He was way too good at making you red. A feeling that was rare and unusual, but more than welcome.

“Right, well, as much as I want to continue, we should get some rest. Plus, we don’t wanna wake up Wild with any… romantics.” he whispers, tossing a glance behind you at the sleeping hero.

You smile, already nodding off in Twilight’s warm embrace. You felt safe. Happy.

₊˚✩⊹

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe au

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

Text

Coming Home (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hiiii! Thank you so much for all the love on this so far! I’m really enjoying writing it!

Here’s part 4…ANGSTANGSTANGST 💃🏻

Warnings: Nah.

⧪

It was late. Late enough that even the faelights had begun to wink out on their own. The words on the page before you were nothing but squiggles.

You should have dragged your feet home hours ago — as soon as you’d shut and locked the clinic door for the night. But the busy day had left you with a crowded mind, and you’d favoured some quiet reading time in the back room of the clinic over returning to the house.

And potentially having to encounter Elain.

Busy days had time sweeping by in almost a blur, and suddenly it was over a month since your return. It was nice to be back in the swing of things — to heal, and to feel helpful and productive — and to truly become reacquainted with the life you’d walked away from. The homecoming ball Rhys and Mor were planning — that seemed to snowball with extravagance every time you received an update — was fast approaching. You were excited. Life was good.

But Elain…Elain made you…uncomfortable.

It didn’t take a genius to recognise that she had no interest in you, try as you might to engage her in conversation. Living under the same roof as her had become a tentative performance of tiptoeing around her, of enduring her painfully short responses to your questions and the troubled glances you sometimes caught her shooting you. Not to mention having to watch her come alive beautifully whenever Azriel came around, and they took long, pleasant walks around the garden together.

You could only assume that she’d picked up on your history with Az. Or worse — that he’d confided in her about it at some point. The thought made you die a little inside.

The decorating of your own house was coming along nicely. The sooner you could move out, have your own space, the better. But until then, you’d been lingering later and later at the clinic as the nights swept by.

You rubbed your eyes, shutting the large, battered tome about medicinal herbs, and pushed out from your chair. It was late enough, now, that Elain would probably have retired to bed, and you wouldn’t have to have an awkward run-in with her in the hallway.

It was as you were gathering your things together, packing your satchel, that you heard it — a soft rapping on the clinic’s front door. You frowned, glancing at the clock, and then grabbed the lantern of dimming faelight from your desk, striding through to the front.

The imposing figure you could just make out behind the glass could only be one person — the shadows coiling around him a telltale sign. You laid the lantern down on the counter and hurried to unlock the door.

“Az?” You blinked, taking in the still, stunning sight of him. His hair seemed to be windswept, his cheeks tinged slightly pink and the smell of cold air clinging to him. “Are you alright?”

He grimaced, holding up one of his scarred hands. The sight of his blood had you starting towards him. “Ash arrow.” He explained. “I pulled it out, but…I think there are still some splinters in there that need digging out.”

That would explain why the wound hadn’t already healed itself, then. You gently took his hand in your own, using every bit of your focus on not trembling at the way his touch both cooled and heated you. You winced at the wound, glancing up to meet his gaze.

“Come through to the back.” You said. “I’ll get those splinters out.”

The grateful smile that tugged at his lips had you faltering on the spot for a split second, the breath almost knocked out of you. Only when you realised you were staring did you clear your throat, turning and pulling him with you. You didn’t let go of his hand, even with his blood staining your own palm.

Your back room was just large enough to fit the two of you in, as well as the table in the centre, and the cupboards along the wall that housed your supplies. Strings of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, crisscrossing over your heads and releasing a potent mix of different scents into the air. Azriel took the room in slowly like he’d never seen it before, and the breathtaking sight of his quiet observation almost had you stumbling.

You turned away from him — mostly to hide your blush — and nodded to the table. “You can take a seat. Sorry that the chair isn’t very…wing-friendly.”

Just a soft chuckle was his response, and you heard the scraping of the chair being pulled out as you gathered your supplies, used your magic to brighten the faelight, and took your own seat beside him.

The position was…intimate. His legs knocked yours gently as you sat down.

“Let me see.” You murmured softly, and he placed his hand on the table, palm facing up. You studied the gash in his skin, slowly manipulating his long, rough fingers. “Do I even want to know why someone fired an ash arrow at you?”

“I was investigating a supposed threat near to the wall.” He responded, close enough that his breath fanned your face. “I suppose I got too close to a mortal estate and they considered me a threat. I didn’t see the arrow until it was lodged in my hand.”

You frowned to yourself. It was unlike Azriel to be so…unaware. It always seemed that his shadows whispered to him about peoples’ decisions before they’d even made them. So unusual for anyone to catch him off guard. Unless he was distracted by something.

Still, you weren’t there to interrogate him — just to patch up his hand. You set about cleaning the wound, praying to the Mother that he didn’t notice the way your fingers shook. It was only as you began to dig the splinters out that a thought occurred to you.

“How did you know I’d still be here?” You asked, your gaze trained intently on his hand. “At the clinic. It’s late…”

In your periphery, you could just make out the way his perfect face molded into a frown. “I don’t know…” He admitted. “I just…did.”

Strange, you thought — but you didn’t push it. It was the first time you and Azriel had been alone together since the night of your return, and you simply enjoyed being in his calm, quiet presence, neither of you feeling like you had to fill the silence. For a while, it was just the gentle plink, plink, plink of the retrieved splinters that you dropped into a bowl, and the measured sounds of Az’s breathing that would hitch every now and then when you tugged a particularly large, nasty splinter out. You were well aware of him watching you, the concentration on your face. It was almost too much…too close. Your cheeks were on fire.

It was somewhat of a relief when the last splinter was out, and you were able to draw back just slightly. You lathered a thin layer of a healing salve across the wound that was already beginning to stitch itself back together, and you reached for a roll of bandages.

“It’ll probably be completely healed by the time you get home, but…wrapping it will give the salve a chance to do its thing.” You smiled gently, his calluses brushing against you as you wrapped a bandage around his palm and secured it in place.

He dipped his chin. “Thank you.”

Gods, he was beautiful. Too beautiful. It set your insides alight in every delicious, possible way. With your faces so close, all you had to do was lean in a few inches more to feel his lips, just like you had on Starfall—

You quickly jerked yourself away, silently reprimanding yourself as you gathered up your things and began to clean up. Azriel didn’t move from the chair. You could feel his gaze tracking your every movement as you tried to shake your reckless thoughts from your mind.

A moment later, he cleared his throat — pointedly. An announcement of sorts.

“We, uh…” He sounded…uncomfortable. Out of his depth. He continued to watch you. “We need to talk about something, Y/N.”

Just like that, you froze, anticipation coiling in your gut.

You’d hoped, what with a decent amount of time having passed since you’d returned, that Az had simply decided to brush your awkward past beneath the carpet, to pretend it didn’t exist. But as you slowly turned, pressing your back against a counter, every flicker in his gaze told you that such a hope was useless.

His eyes met yours, deep and intense and smouldering. The sharp cut of his jaw moved as he shifted in his seat. Whether it was from the uncomfortable position of his wings, or the uncomfortable subject lingering in the air, you weren’t sure.

“…You left.” He said quietly. His voice was a deep tenor that had a chill skittering over your skin. “You left without saying goodbye.”

Your eyes dipped to the floor. “Yes. I did.”

“Why.”

You sighed softly to yourself. Every part of you — every tense muscle and limb and area of your skin felt too hot. You didn’t like this — facing your problems head on. You’d had the luxury of running away from this, of not having to talk about it.

But what really could you have expected from coming home? The past never did stay in the past.

And you weren’t sure you even wanted it to.

“I was…embarrassed.” You admitted quietly.

A soft noise sounded in Azriel’s throat, one you couldn’t put a name to. “You just…left. One day you were there, and everything was fine, and the next thing any of us knew, Rhys was fretting and saying that you’d suddenly decided that you wanted to travel, to see the world, and you were gone.”

Fine. Everything had not been fine. The thought almost made you laugh. But you tamped down that thought, closing your eyes just long enough to take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry…” You said. “I didn’t mean to just…take off like that. I was scared that the longer I hung around, the more I’d lose my nerve.”

You were met with a silence so heavy, so potent, that you had no choice but to glance up and study Azriel’s face — to see if anything could be read on him. His jaw was set firmly, and his eyes burned with intensity as he stared at you.

“Was it because of…of Starfall?” He eventually asked.

And there it was — the giant fucking elephant in the room. You fought the urge to cringe, to run away and hide. This clearly wasn’t going to go away on its own.

So you shrugged. Tried to seem nonchalant. “I guess it was — partly.”

Az’s soft sigh was a caress on your skin. “You should have just talked to me once you’d calmed down…once we’d had a bit of space. You knew you could talk to me. You didn’t have to go running off for a century just to avoid me.”

“It wasn’t just for that.” You could feel yourself getting defensive, sure your cheeks were burning scarlet. “I did want to travel, to see the world. But yes, part of it was about avoiding you…avoiding what I’d done. I was embarrassed, and ashamed, and—“

“You didn’t need to be any of those things.” He cut you off.

“How could I not be?”

“You were young. You’d been through a great deal of awful things…”

Just like that, your eyes shuttered.

So that was the game he’d decided to play — to pretend that your attempted kiss had just been a heat-of-the-moment mistake born of being young, of being traumatised, of being misguided.

Not of being in love.

The dismissal hurt almost as much as the original rejection.

“Azriel.” You said slowly, carefully. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to reign in your temper. “Don’t—don’t do that.”

“Y/N—“

“If you feel nothing for me, that’s fine.” It certainly didn’t feel fine. You hardened your gaze as you met his. “But don’t talk to me like a child. I wasn’t one then, and I’m not one now. I knew perfectly well what I was doing that night.”

Azriel stared back at you, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“No, you’re not a child.” He agreed, pushing out from his chair. He was a vision of night as he stood up, towering over you once more. “You weren’t then, either.”

You nodded, trying not to tremble as he came closer.

“But you are Rhys’s sister.” His voice was deep, guttural — feral. Like he was trying to tamp down his own anger. “And you respect your brother as much as I do. So — for that reason, what you did that Starfall night? Don’t ever try anything like that again.”

His tone was dangerous enough that you knew it was a command — and a hard, solid rejection. It stung, almost enough for the backs of your eyes to prick with tears that you willed away.

You looked up abruptly, forcing anger onto your face in the hopes that it would mask your hurt. Azriel was already passing you in great, purposed strides, full of tension and ire.

“Thank you for patching up my hand.” He said gruffly. “I’ll see you at the party.”

Just like that, he was a whisper of movement as he left the clinic, just the slamming of the door and the chiming of the bell the remaining evidence that he’d been there at all.

You sagged against the counter, your cheeks and eyes burning, stinging. You wanted to scream, to cry, to — something.

Mor’s efforts to make you up for the night of the party would be painfully pointless. Any hope that had ignited in you about that was snuffed out.

As you bit down on your tears and cleaned your things away, Azriel’s deep, hurtful words rang loudly in your head.

“What you did that Starfall night? Don’t ever try anything like that again.”

Tags: @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen

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