#have to be prepared for the next time the sky falls down

[floral-hex]

It’s almost 6 in the morning. Can’t sleep. Admittedly lonely. So I’ll type a little text post to feel like I’m actually “doing” something.

Doubled my vilazadone. Started buspirone. I’ve been on a diuretic for my ears (it’s complicated) for about a week now, but whether it’s coincidental or not, my hearing has been pretty great since I started. But hearing comes and goes, so we’ll see if this holds in the coming weeks. My body is having trouble adjusting to all of these new meds, but I think it’s starting to rebalance itself. Chemicals, man…

Okay, I really don’t know what else to say here. Just bored on a Saturday night… well, now Sunday morning. Might go eat some captain crunch. I just started the buspirone and I think it’s maybe making me.. eeeeee 😬😬😬😬… you get it? Not anxious, just on edge. They said take before bed to get used to it, but maybe they meant “hey, take as you’re falling asleep, because if you’re awake when it kicks in, you will stay awake.” Or maybe it’s just normal loneliness and anxiety keeping me up. Who knows. This seems like a downer post, yeah? Sorry. It’ll be positive, ya. I’ll go make some cereal, watch some tv, you all can do whatever you’re doing this morning. There are some birds chirping outside, I’ll see if my cats are awake, it’ll be nice.

[bucketsofmonsters]

On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved. 

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 

What a privilege it was to die for them. 

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 

“Hello,” you responded. 

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again. 

Maybe not entirely alone. 

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 

You slid away from him, back into the cold. 

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 

You’d never slept better. 

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be." 

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 

 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words. 

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 

He returned in a few moments. 

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 

���No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again. 

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 

 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 

You took off in a dead sprint after him. 

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 

And not a moment too soon. 

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly. 

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 

“Pytho?” you called out. 

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond. 

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked. 

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 

“What was that?” you asked quietly. 

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly. 

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 

You couldn’t be happier. 

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 

He was massive, probably a foot long. 

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 

“Please,” you asked. 

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said. 

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

[swarvey]

how they would propose | sdv bachelors x g/n!reader | part two

-> summary: in game, the farmer is always the one to present the mermaid's pendant to their lover — what if it was the other way around?

pt. 1

a/n: here are the rest of the boys! i'll do the bachelorettes next, i might do all of them in one post. sorry for the slow updates y'all <3

harvey

wants it to be a completely special, private moment between the two of you

he knows how prone he is to getting overly anxious about moments like this, so he prepares months beforehand

if there is one thing in life he refuses to mess up, it's his proposal to you

and what's more flawless than tying everything back to the start?

harvey smiles as he watches your eyes grow big, following the sun as it steadily heads for the horizon. the hot air balloon rises into the sky slowly, to his relief — a little extra time to prepare never hurts.

a couple seasons ago, on a rainy, fall day, harvey had told you he had some errands to run before heading down to the beach. he'd been slightly shocked to actually see the old mariner standing there in the rain, despite the speculations that had always circled around town. despite the fact he was apparently a ghost, he had actually been patient with harvey, answering all of his questions with wisdom and guidance.

after nearly two hours of standing under his umbrella, harvey had finally made up his mind, handing a small bag of coins to the old mariner in exchange for the pendant.

"took ya long enough," the older man huffed as he handed the necklace over.

now, harvey waits until the air balloon is higher up in the sky before gently reaching for your hand. you look at him, a small smile on your lips.

"are you enjoying this as much as the first time i brought you up here?" he asks sweetly.

"maybe a little more," you admit, looking over the side again. "i was a bit nervous coming up here in the first place, you know, and seeing you all stiff and anxious didn't help."

"you can hardly blame me!" he laughs. "my fear of heights is deathly, i only did it because you were there with me."

"yeah? and how about now?"

"well, nothing's changed, has it?" he squeezes your hand, looking down at your intertwined fingers. "you're still here."

"i am."

when his eyes meet yours again, he feels warmth bloom across his chest — the setting sunlight seems to make you glow, and he suddenly feels unstoppable.

you squint at him, trying to read his face. "you know," you start softly, "you have the same look on your face as you did back then."

"i do?"

"yeah, you do." you pause, watching as his other hand reaches for his pocket. "harvey, are you—"

"y/n," he interrupts, "that day, when the two of us were up here for the first time, i felt something i never did before — i felt brave, strong. i never thought i was capable of feeling that way, but you proved me wrong, as you always seem to do, and i can only hope i make you feel at least somewhat the same way." he inhales deeply, feeling his face burn red as he takes out his hand from this pocket and opens his fist, the mermaid's pendant gleaming in the light.

"harvey," you breathe, rendered speechless as your eyes widen even more than before.

"you mean the world to me and more, honey," he says quietly, and you can hear the tears he's holding back. "i promise i will do everything in my power to make you as happy as you've made me, so please . . .

"will you marry me?"

after a beat, you let go of his hand, and harvey's heart drops.

then, you grab the necklace and pull it over your head, watching as it shines against your neck.

"yes, harvey," you answer, smiling widely up at him. "the answer has always been a yes."

tears finally fall from his face as he gently kisses you, resting his forehead against yours before pulling you to his chest.

"thank you," he whispers. "i promise, i won't let you down."

you laugh. "this isn't a business contact, you know."

"i know, i know, it's just . . ." he grabs your hand again, pressing a firm kiss on the back of it. "you've already done so much for me, dear," he says, the sun finally dipping beneath the mountains.

"it's time for me to return the favor."

sam

bought it like a week ago since it happened to be raining and he was on the beach

i mean, you'll say yes, right? there's no reason for you not to. so why should he be nervous? he's not nervous at all. not one bit.

at least, that's what he keeps telling himself as he keeps scheduling a bunch of dates with you, thinking there'll be a moment during one of them when he'll make his move

(the moment has yet to come, by the way)

sam slaps his face sharply as he paces around his room, continuously glancing at the clock. he honestly can't believe the pendant is still in the small pouch his mom gave him and not around your neck — her scolds after he returned home with the necklace still in his hands for the fifth time rings in his ears.

"sam, this is an important moment in both of your lives!" she had said, hands sternly placed on her hips. "you can't keep making these plans, just to avoid them at the last second because you're scared. you need to go show them how much you love them, properly!"

he shivers. his mom rarely ever yells at him, so he knows she must have been serious. how was i supposed to know proposing would be this scary?

after realizing he was due to meet you in a few minutes, sam rushedly left his home, heading towards the park where he told you to meet him. he smiles as he sees you sitting on the swing, but before he can get a word out, you're standing up and walking to him, face scrunched in worry.

"sam, is everything alright?" you ask, fidgeting with your fingers. "i've been thinking about it, and you've been worrying me a bit."

"worrying? why?" he grabs the sides of your arms gently, tilting his head. "did i . . . do something wrong?"

"i mean, no?" you shake your head slightly, sighing. "it's just, you've been asking to do so many things, which is great! this just isn't what we normally do. i'm a little worried you're not telling me something."

"wh-what?" he stutters, huffing and shrugging his shoulders. "honestly, sweetheart, i have no idea what you're talking about, really. i mean, do i seem like the type to hide something from you?"

you stare at him blankly for a moment. then, you deflate, a twinge of sadness in your eyes.

"are you breaking up with me?" you question quietly. "is that what this is? because i'd really rather you not drag it on like this, sam—"

"whoa, whoa, what?! break up with you? are you crazy?" he half-shouts, his own heart breaking that he made you think that. "baby, no, i would never."

"i don't know what to think!" you exclaim, a sudden emotion taking over your voice. "you've been acting so odd recently, i didn't know what to think."

he shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh. guess this is what i get for not listening to mom.

"here, why don't i just show you?"

"what?"

trying his best to keep his hands from shaking, sam reaches into his back pocket, holding up the small pouch in front of you.

"you see, i, uh, have been trying to figure out the right way to give you this," he finally admits, running his other hand through his hair nervously. "every time we went out together, i thought i would figure it out, but i guess i couldn't. i'm sorry for worrying you, y/n, i really am — i hope you can forgive me, though, or else i seriously have no idea what i'll do with this."

you open your mouth to question him once more, but before you can ask, he opens the pouch and lets the mermaid's pendant fall into the palm of his hand.

"i love you so, so much, honey, more than my words can describe," he rushes passionately, voice determined as he bends his head down and lifts the pendant up. "all i know is, being with you makes everything feel new again. like, the music we listen to, the places we go, the food we eat, everything is better when i do it with you. if i'm being honest, i'm not a hundred percent sure what comes after this, but i do know that i think we'll be okay, as long as we're together." keeping his head down, mainly to hide his flushed face, sam lifts the necklace even higher. "i guess what i'm asking is, will you marry me, y/n?"

sam feels your hand cup his chin to tip his face back up, revealing to him your watery eyes and pink cheeks.

"of course i'll marry you, sam, that's all you had to ask," you say, laughing lightly.

he stands up straight suddenly, whooping and throwing his arms in the air before picking you up and spinning you around. after putting you down, he hastily puts the pendant around your neck and kisses you, feeling your hand entangle itself in his hair as he pulls you close.

"you're such a dork," you tease after pulling away. "what were you so nervous about?"

"what were you so nervous about?" he fires back, crossing his arms and raising a brow. "did you seriously think i would break up with you?"

"like you gave me a reason to believe otherwise! when have we ever gone on dates for an entire week straight? we usually just sit in your room!"

"hey, we do more stuff than that!"

you look at each other in annoyance for a moment before bursting into laughter. unbeknownst to the two of you, abigail and sebastian had seen the whole thing as they were passing by, looking at each other in amusement as they continue toward the town.

"they sound like a married couple already," seb grumbles, and abigail laughs.

"just shows they were meant to be."

sebastian

similar to harvey, he wants his proposal to be for your eyes only, so he decides to do it while the two of you are alone at the lake near his house

determined to do the whole thing by himself, but his mom ends up seeing the jewelry in his room

got the pendant the last summer, it’s the start of spring now

(he’s spent every night since then falling asleep with it in his hands)

sebastian waits for you anxiously near the edge of the water, looking at the pendant in his hand. part of him still can’t believe this is his reality — someone like him, getting married? he scoffs, covering the jewelry with his fist and looking out towards the lake. the water shines under the moonlight, soothing his heart just a bit.

“seb!”

just like that, his sense of peace is gone, blood rushing to his face as he turns to greet you. he smiles softly; you’re wearing one of the coats he gave you since it didn’t end up fitting him properly. he always thought you’ve looked good in his clothes.

“hey,” he greets, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “how was your day?”

“a bit busy,” you sigh, melting into his arm. “spring always jumps on me before i know it.” he hums, subconsciously pulling you closer as he plans out his next words. “how about you? everything okay?”

“hm? yeah, ‘course,” he replies, the necklace clutched tightly in his hand. “just . . . couldn’t sleep that well, is all.”

“why? are you feeling okay?” you ask worriedly, turning to face him.

“stop worrying.” he pokes your forehead, pushing you lightly. he huffs a laugh at your frown. “i had some stuff on my mind.”

“like what?”

like his mom’s advice. seb chews his lip as he quickly thinks back to what his mom had said after finding the necklace lying on his desk.

“this is a serious decision, seb,” she’d said, sitting with him in his room. “you’re sure you want this?”

“of course i am,” he’d retorted sharply. he’s always been a bit defensive over you. “why wouldn’t i?”

she’d sighed, smiling at him warmly. “that’s not what i meant. i’m over the moon about this, i am, i just want to make sure you understand what marriage means.” she paused, lightly placing a hand over his. he’d let her, just that once. “promise me you won’t treat it lightly, okay? they deserve the world, you know that.”

seb smiles slightly. though he’ll never admit it, he’s glad his mom spoke to him.

“about you, actually,” he replies. “i’ve been thinking about you a lot recently.”

“oh yeah? am i that hard to resist?” you say jokingly.

he rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. instead, he calmly shows you the necklace in his hand, silently reading your reaction. your eyes widen, darting between the pendant and his face.

“i’ve never met anyone like you, y/n,” he finally says, swallowing thickly after hearing how shaky his voice has gotten. “you know it’s never been easy for me to open up to people, but it never really felt that way with you. you always seem to know what to say, no matter what i talk to you about. i mean, seriously, i don’t really get it still, but i do know it would be stupid of me to let someone like you go.”

“as if i were going anywhere,” you say, voice watery and quiet.

he gently grabs one of your hands, intertwining your fingers.

“well, now i know i’ve got you all to myself,” he replies amusedly. “i’ll take that as a yes?”

laughing, you lightly push him away. “you didn’t even ask me!”

“fine, fine— y/n, will you do me the highest honors and stay by my side for the rest of—“

“alright, stop, stop! you ass.” he laughs as you smack his arm, feigning hurt before grinning. “i could say no, you know.”

“yeah, sure you could, sweetheart.” he places the necklace around you and uses it to pull you to him once more, wrapping an arm around you to kiss you lovingly, the moon brightly shining down on the two of you, as if it approves.

“i’m sure you could.”

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[hyperstell4r]

No Church in the Wild

Finding yourself in a new world, you worry that your status as an outworlder will raise suspicion among the people in Teyvat. However, as you befriend the many characters you meet along the way, there seems to be a special connection between you and this world - you realise you worried over nothing. (or: isekai sagau headcanons with creator!reader) Words: 798

Sunlight pours through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting a warm glow on your skin. You expect to see the familiar ceiling of your room when you open your eyes, however, the soft chirping of birds and the faint chattering of squirrels tell you to expect otherwise.

When you sit up to take in your surroundings, the sight that lies before you is not that of your room, but a massive tree providing shade in the otherwise empty plain. Taking in the gorgeous scenery, a glowing teal butterfly catches your attention, leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake.

You soon realise what you saw is actually a crystalfly, a creature that should only exist in -

Oh this cannot be real.

Processing that you've somehow been transported to a world that should only exist in a game is an adjustment, to say the least. Deciding you need to find work if you ever want to live a normal life in this world, you join the Adventurer’s Guild. It pays well and gives you the chance to travel to different nations on the pretence of completing commissions. 

When you’re out late at night in Liyue Harbor, you find yourself gravitating towards the Wanmin restaurant. Xinyan looks up from taste-testing Xiangling’s new recipe to wave and call you over. Ever so thoughtful, Xiangling quickly makes you a bowl so you have something to eat while you talk to them. The two of them let you sit down and talk whenever you need them to lend an ear - bless them. Sometimes when you visit the restaurant, Shenhe is there too. She appreciates being able to relax in your company, seeing how you never force her to participate in the conversation while you respond to Guoba's cheerful chirps.

Nilou's dance all but mesmerises you when you watch her practicing a new choreography, perfecting her steps. You only realise you’ve been staring by the time she finishes her dance. The girl stops you from apologising for your rudeness, inviting you to watch her next performance at the Grand Bazaar. From then on, you attend as many of Nilou’s performances as you can, always bringing her water and snacks for the both of you to share while you celebrate another dance well done. There's an especially important performance one day. When you present to her the bouquet of Padisarahs you so carefully prepared, they are the most resplendent flowers that the dancer has ever seen. She almost wonders if you witnessed the Padisarah bloom for the Goddess of Flowers all those years ago.

Of course, being a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, you often have run-ins with Bennett, Fischl, and Razor. You join them on their picnics, admiring the scenery together as you tell them stories from your world. Your friends listen intently while you speak of horseless wagons made of metal and buildings that scrape the sky. It's hard to tell whether they are just being polite, or if they are extremely invested in the concept of electric toothbrushes. Nevertheless, you always enjoy these times you spend together. The weather is always perfect and you never see monsters around, as if nature itself wishes to please you.

Beidou warns you to be careful when you sit on the edge of the Crux, your legs dangling above the water; but she can't help the smile that comes with watching you and Kazuha excitedly exchange songs and poetry of the respective worlds you hail from. Your voice carries an indescribable peacefulness to it as the world seems to bend to your song. A gentle breeze blows through your hair, and you swear you can hear a faint whisper. There's one time you fall over the edge and start plummeting towards the ocean below. Kazuha reaches out to catch you a moment too late; but before you hit the water, a gust of wind lifts you up. The whispering is more apparent this time, almost as if the wind is giggling, teasing you endlessly. Kazuha, seeing your flustered expression, can't help but smile as he thinks, so you can hear it too.

You find Kirara makes an excellent adventuring partner. You often run into each other, sometimes deciding to go fishing together as a break. You opt for a rod from the Fishing Association while Kirara prefers to rely on her feline instincts, jumping into the lake. When the sky grows dark and you're sitting on the beach enjoying the grilled fish you prepared, the courier points out how brightly the stars are shining tonight - as well as how much they resemble your eyes.

In your new life, the people of Teyvat are ever so good to you and you hope for this peace to last forever, but it seems you have spoken too soon.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.

WARNING: Crying, unrequited love, angst (with a happy ending).

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @freshsturns

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was a typical fall morning in Boston, with golden leaves dancing in the wind and the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air. Y/N walked down the familiar street, her steps synchronized with the rapid beat of her heart, her mind full of possibilities of how to break the news; she would spend three months at her father's house, as her mother needed to travel for work continuously during that short period.

Her eyes fell on the Sturniolo's house, where the triplets, Matt, Nick, and Chris, had lived since they were teenagers.

A mixture of feelings invaded her whenever she passed by.

She and the triplets have been inseparable since childhood. They grew up together, shared secrets, laughs, and unforgettable moments. But there was something deeper between Y/N and Matt, something she held deep in her heart and feared revealing.

Matt was the middle brother out of the three, with his dark hair and piercing dead blue eyes that seemed to read her soul. He was Y/N's confidant, the one with whom she shared her most intimate dreams and her deepest fears. But there was a secret she never dared to confess: her love for him.

As Y/N walked towards the Sturniolo's house, she felt her heart beating wildly. She knew she would see Matt soon, and that thought made her nervous and excited at the same time. They saw each other every day, but each meeting was like a new chapter in an endless book.

Upon entering the cozy home, Y/N was greeted with warm smiles and affectionate hugs from Jimmy and Mary Lou. Matt, with his captivating gaze and worn-out jeans, stared at her eyes for a brief moment. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, but she quickly looked away, fearing he might read her feelings in her gaze.

Throughout that day, Y/N and Matt shared conversations like they always did while spending time together, lost in their own bubble of happiness. The sound of their laughter echoed through the cold streets, filling the air with a contagious energy, enjoying the last minutes together before the girl had to go far away.

Matt's hair was messed up by the wind, attracting her attention, who glanced at him, lost in her thoughts. She wondered if he could hear her frantic heartbeat every time he smiled when his hair got in his mouth.

But there was a palpable tension between the two, an invisible elephant in the room that neither dared to address.

At night, when Y/N finally returned home, she sat on her bed and let the tears fall silently while preparing herself to pack her bags. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings to Matt or if she would continue hiding them forever.

Meanwhile, across the street, Matt was lying in his own bed, lost in thoughts about Y/N. He wondered if she could ever feel the same way about him. If she could look at him with the same love-filled eyes that he always cast her way. But the fear of ruining their friendship prevented him from taking any action.

Thus, the two friends remained trapped in a painful impasse, their hearts connected by invisible strings that neither of them dared to break.

Y/N hoped that the next three months would do something good for her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Time had passed too fast, and soon, Y/N was back in Boston. The sun shone high in the summer sky as the girl left her house that morning, leaving her unopened suitcase to organize later, the birds chirped happily along with the frantic beats of her heart, yearning to see her best friends again.

For some reason, she knew something was different, that something had changed, but she wasn't prepared for what she would find when she met with him that afternoon.

Upon arriving at the brothers' house, Y/N was greeted by a strange silence, even with the cheerful voice of Mary Lou - who greeted her happily at the front door.

Y/N quickly found Matt sitting on the couch, next to a blonde girl, with long straight hair and an artificial smile on her lips. She was the complete opposite of Y/N in every possible way.

She felt a pang of discomfort when she saw Matt so close to that girl, her heart clenching when she noticed the brunette's arm around her shoulders, knowing the inevitable; Matt had met his perfect - or not - match.

She tried to push those feelings away and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him, but the truth was that a wave of sadness washed over her and found home in her heart.

Matt's new girlfriend, who introduced herself as Tiffany, looked at Y/N with a look of superiority, as if she was sizing her up and down. She emanated an aura of arrogance and pretension that made Y/N feel out of place and inadequate almost instantly.

Her slender and tall body was shaped by a mini skirt and a tank top that hugged her tiny waist perfectly, her feet covered in sparkling high heels - too much for a normal day in Boston -, Y/N feeling suddenly uncomfortable about the large t-shirt that covered her entire upper body.

As she watched Matt and Tiffany together, Y/N felt a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sounds of the video game coming from the television and Nick and Chris' excited screams echoing muffledly into her ears as she noticed how Matt hadn't looked directly at her eyes, not even once.

She wondered if he had really forgotten her so easily, if their friendship no longer meant anything to him. She felt betrayed and abandoned, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out without warning.

As the day progressed, Y/N tried to keep herself occupied with the other two brothers, trying to push away the painful thoughts that threatened to consume her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the vision of Matt and Tiffany together, acting like they were the perfect couple.

She was so different from what Y/N imagined Matt's type to be.

When it was finally time to go home, Y/N said goodbye to Matt with a forced smile on her lips. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, trying to appear indifferent to the fact that he had found someone new. But deep down, she knew that it had changed everything between them both, and nothing would ever be the same as it was.

As she walked home, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face. She felt lost and confused, not knowing how to deal with the new reality that was opening up before her.

She wondered if Matt would ever see that she was the right girl for him, that he belonged with her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was buzzing with the sound of excited voices and cutlery clattering against plates. Matt, Y/N, Nick, and Chris were sitting at a table in the corner, enjoying a quiet lunch together after weeks of not hanging out as a group.

"Matt, can we talk?" Y/N began as she noticed Chris and Nick immersed in a random topic. Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her eyes trying to decipher the storm of emotions that seemed to cross the brunette's face.

"Of course, Y/N. What do you want to talk about?" Matt nodded, his gaze meeting hers momentarily, before lowering it back to his plate, a fake smile resting on his face.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.

"I couldn't help but notice how things have changed between us lately. Ever since you started... dating Tiffany, it seems like we're more distant."

"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I've been distant. It's just... Tiffany is complicated. She's very different from... Well, it doesn't matter." Matt spoke in a low tone, looking embarrassed as his hands nervously played with the metal cutlery.

Before Y/N could respond, Matt's phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation, and catching the attention of Nick and Chris, who stopped what they were saying and looked at them with interest. Matt huffed out an apology before looking at his cell screen, frowning as he read Tiffany's flashing name.

"Sorry, Y/N. I really need to take this." Matt said, quickly getting up from the table and taking a few steps away to answer the call, ignoring the worried looks his brothers were sending him.

Y/N watched as Matt spoke on the phone, his face tense and worried. She could hear Tiffany's muffled screams on the other end of the line, and a knot formed in her stomach as she realized the argument was about her, her name escaping the boy's lips more times than expected.

She could feel Nick and Chris's gazes burning into the side of her head, and she knew they wanted to say something, but her attention was too focused on Matt to try and get information out of the pair.

As the argument continued, Y/N observed in detail Matt's reactions, the lines of tension on his t the clenched fists at his side. She could feel the anguish he was experiencing.

When Matt finally hung up the phone, he returned to the table with a tired look in his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was in an internal struggle between what to do and what not to do. He looked at Y/N, as if he was about to say something, but then looked away, unable to find the words.

Y/N quickly reached out to touch his hand, a small show of silent support, a frown full of worry taking her expression.

"Matt, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just..." Matt nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips, the same one that Y/N saw every day since he started dating Tiffany, but so different from the one that was directed to her three months before. "I just need to sort some things out with Tiffany." He cleared his throat quickly, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing them on his brothers. "Can you guys keep going without me? I really need to go."

"If I say no, it won't change what you think, so do whatever you want, Matt." Chris shrugged, his gaze rigid like never seen before by Y/N.

She tried to meet Nick's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation, but all she saw was sadness and worry.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Night was falling over Boston when Matt left Tiffany's house, his heart heavy and his mind turbulent. The rain, like a perfect background actor, fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that ran down his face as he walked aimlessly through the wet streets, having left his car in the hands of Chris - the one who knew most about driving after himself.

The boy allowed his feet to take him where they wanted to go, his vision blurred, and his mind too confused to decide anything at that moment, his heart screaming for refuge.

And that's how he found himself standing in front of Y/N's house, his safe haven in the midst of the storm that had been his life since he could remember.

With a heavy heart, the brunette walked to the side wall outside of the two-story house, his blue eyes only seeing the window that he already knew very well. Agilely, Matt quickly climbed the expanse of concrete, the lighting from the girl's room helping and guiding him.

The sound of light knocks against the closed glass echoed through the room, and it was and understandment to say that Y/N was surprised to see Matt outside her room, hanging from her window, drenched from the rain and with eyes red from crying.

The girl quickly shot up from her seat on her pretty made-up bed, running towards him and opening the window in seconds, her hands working on pulling him inside the cozy and warm room, wrapping him in a comforting hug, ignoring the feeling of his wet clothes against her dry and warm pajamas.

"Matt, what happened? Why are you here like this? What...?" Y/N asked frantically, worried. She pulled back a few inches, rubbing her left hand over Matt's cold arm, while her right worked on brushing away the soggy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead and cheeks.

"I broke up with Tiffany." His voice sounded choked and hoarse from crying, his lips trembling without a pause. "I finally realized how toxic she was being, and I couldn't go on like this anymore. I didn't-" A sob broke through his throat, his eyes closing tightly as his hands gripped Y/N's bent elbow, seeking some stability.

Y/N watched him with compassion, stroking the cold skin of his face gently with the tip of her right fingers. She felt like screaming from seeing him in such a state, her heart hurting as if someone was squeezing it with their bare hands.

She wondered how he couldn't see that she was the right one for him, not Tiffany. She knew all his favorite songs, the movies he loved, the places he dreamed of visiting. She was the only one who truly understood him, who knew his deepest dreams, fears, and hopes.

Over the years, Y/N has been by Matt's side through every important moment in his life. She watched him grow, face challenges, and overcome obstacles. She was the person he went to in the middle of the night when he needed someone to talk to, the voice that made him laugh when he was about to cry.

And yet, even with all this intimacy and deep connection, Matt didn't seem to realize what was right in front of him. He continued to seek love and validation elsewhere, ignoring the fact that Y/N was always there, waiting for him with an open heart.

And because of that, he got hurt. Again.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. Come here, sweet boy." Y/N asked in a gentle whisper, guiding him to her bed in slow steps.

"N-no, I'm going to wet your whole bed." Matt muttered between sniffles, his right hand gripping her arm gently while his left one rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to stop the tears from continuing to flow.

"It's okay, I don't mind, honey." The girl insisted, helping him sit on the edge of the mattress next to her pillow while moving his hand away from his face, preventing him from hurting himself. "Stay here, I'll go get a towel. I think I still have some of your clothes too."

While Matt vented between sobs about his problematic relationship with Tiffany, Y/N listened attentively, moving around the room behind her hairdryer, clean towels and pieces of clothing that the brunette had left there when he visited her house.

She could feel the pain and anguish he was feeling, and she was determined to be there for him, no matter how much her heart burned to see him suffer for another girl.

The girl quickly found everything she needed, beginning the task of wiping Matt's wet, dark hair with the fluffy towel and wiping away the raindrops from his skin, her body standing stiffly between the boy's legs, being careful not to cross any barrier he had placed between the two of them.

As Matt spoke and Y/N advised him, she could feel his blue eyes fixed on her face, his hands too close to her legs as she finished drying him, feeling her cheeks burn like fire, knowing for sure that they were as red as the color itself.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you." Matt whispered, his tone low - as if he didn't want to burst the bubble that seemed to surround them - but still echoing throughout the room with force. "I only started dating Tiffany because... because I was trying to get you out of my mind."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hands stopping their movements abruptly, the wet towel feeling heavy on her skin. The girl stared at the wall behind Matt for a few seconds, processing what he had said before finally looking at him, all the words caught in her throat as tears glistened in her eyes.

What?

"I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry." Matt continued, his voice strained as his eyes seemed to search hers desperately. “But I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you. Because... because I love you, Y/N. Since the first day I met you, I have loved you. Every time I close my eyes, it's your face that I see. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, everywhere, and nothing I tried could make you disappear."

Y/N's heart raced in her chest a mile a minute as Matt's words echoed in her mind. An overwhelming mix of happiness and relief filling her veins at finally hearing the words she had waited for so many years.

"Matt, this is..." Y/N shook her head as an easy smile spread across her face automatically. "I love you too." She confessed, her voice almost a whisper, lowering her face, her eyes finally meeting his electrifying ones, feeling as if they were piercing her soul, which now, exposed, no longer had a barrier to hide her true feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone."

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[iguana-eyanna]

To Have A Home

Pairing: Jack Reacher x Reader

Summary: Reacher never thought the white fence dream could ever happen to him, but you proved him wrong in more ways than possible.

Reacher got out of his pickup truck, taking out a few grocery bags. He stares at the house that he built from the ground up, inhaling the fresh air.

His footsteps could be heard from a mile away, as tiny footsteps were heard at the front of the wooden porch.

"Dad!" Reacher's oldest son, Georgie, screamed as he ran fast towards him.

Reacher smiled as he knelt down, the 7 year old running towards him.

"Hey bud! Oof, you're getting strong kid. You almost knocked out your old man." Reacher replied, carrying him in his free arm.

"Really Dad? I could be just as strong as you?" Georgie asked.

"Unless you eat all of your vegetables, Georgie, you can be just as big and strong as your father." A voice replied.

Reacher looks up sees you holding your four year old son, Mason, as you wore your signature summer dress that curved perfectly around your pregnant 6 month pregnant belly and barefoot.

Jack thought you were beautiful standing there.

He carried both his son and the groceries with ease as he walked towards the porch, giving you a sweet kiss.

"Hi," He said sweetly.

"Hey," You said, smiling.

One thing about Reacher was that he kept you feeling like a school girl falling in love for the first time. He never made you doubt his love for you and would move the sun just cause you asked him to.

You two walked inside as the kids ran to the living room, playing with their toys. You and Reacher went to the kitchen to prepare for dinnerr.

You began washing the vegetables in the sink while Reacher was getting the ingredients. Soon, you felt a pair of arms around your waist as Reacher's palm covered your belly. He kissed the side of your neck as you felt his prickly beard that he was growing out.

"How was work?" He asks as you place a loving hand on his cheek.

"It was good, had some important clients to meet today for the pitch."

"That's great. I'm so proud of you." He says, kissing your cheek.

Before you two started your family, Reacher said that he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad as he truly wanted to leave his scarred past. He would have never asked you to leave your profession, and you two have lived peacefully raising your kids.

"The boys didn't make any trouble? I would have taken them to the store."

"No, they knew not to mess with Mama Bear. I think they just give you a hard time on purpose."

Reacher fake gasps as he twirls you around.

"Are you saying they favor you over me?"

"Well, I did give birth to them and now pregnant with their sister so... Yes."

Jack throws a hearty laugh as he holds you as close as he can.

"and I'll remind you every day for making me a father to these great kids. I love you, Mrs. Reacher."

"and I love you, Mr. Reacher."

You two kissed as you tip-toed to reach his lips.

"Ewwwwwwwwww." Both your sons said in unison. you two look back and chuckle as your boys look at you two.

"Come here so we can give you kisses!" You teased.

"Noooooo!!!!" They screamed, running away as Jack chased them into the house as you followed.

Soon after eating dinner, both of your boys were sleeping in both your arms as all of you were watching a movie on the couch. Jack reached for the remote and turned off the TV.

"Let's take them to bed hon-"

He stops as he sees you snoring lightly as you hold Georgie. Reacher smiles as he slowly gets up picks up Mason and Georgie and tucks them in bed. He returns for you and carries you with ease back in the master bedroom.

He lies next to you as you slowly open your eyes, realizing where you are, and smile at him.

"I thought of a name today, for the baby."

"Oh yeah? What is it?" He asks.

You scoot closer to him, placing your head by his chest as his heartbeat soothed you.

"Sky Reacher. I want her to know that she's able to reach for the sky."

Jack smiles brightly and kisses the top of your head.

"I love that name."

Jack couldn't believe it. In the past several years, all he carried along with him was the clothes on his back and a toothbrush. And now, he's lying in bed with a gorgeous, hard-working woman who mothered his children.

This is what it must feel like to have a home.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 16.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. fluff, slight feelings

A/N. cute or naw

-> MASTERLIST.

There’s one month left to prepare for the Championships, yet here you were snoozing on, pro-volleyball player, Atsumu Miya’s floor.

“Y/N,” he calls, “Wake up,”

It’s bright, when you wake up, the sun is already shining high in the sky.

“Holy shit, what time is it?”

He looks behind him then back down at you, “2:36,”

This causes you to jump up, “And you didn’t wake me up?”

“No,” he says, “I ordered food, hurry up before it gets cold,”

Your face scrunches up at his reply, “No Atsumu, I need to go home,” your body aches as you make your way onto your feet.

Atsumu looks back at you with a dead serious look before saying, “You owe me a date,” before stalking off back into the living room.

Fuck.

———

After locating the extra toothbrushes in Atsumu’s bathroom, you follow the smell of the food into his living room. You couldn’t really see it last night since it was so dark, but his house is nice. But that’s to be expected from someone who’s a pro-volleyball player.

“I just order pizza and wings, if that’s alright?”

You make a noise in confirmation before finding a seat next to him on the couch, you reach out to grab a slice of pizza.

“This is your idea of a date?” you ask, taking a bite of the pizza.

“Mm, well, yeah,” he finishes the bite in his mouth before continuing, “The other ones will be fancier and more planned out though, so don’t worry,”

“Other ones?” your eyebrow raises at his choice of words.

You can tell even Atsumu caught himself off guard, hesitating before attempting to correct himself, “I mean like, if we were to hangout again with the guys,”

Shaking your head, you let out a breathy laugh before continuing to finish the slice.

Atsumu grabs his remotes and throws on the latest Rom-Com that had come out. 

“Ew, you’re a sap,”

“I have feelings, too, you know?”

Yep.

“So, do you plan on renewing your contract with Jackals after this season?” you attempt to start another conversation.

“Work talk? Really? While you’re with me?”

“Yes, because there’s nothing else to talk about,”

“Let’s just watch the movie,” he turns his attention back to the TV, “but yes, I am,”

You nod your head at that before also turning your head to the TV. 

You never considered yourself much of a romantic, which makes a lot of sense since you couldn’t help but fall asleep through the movie. You felt a little bad though, especially when Atsumu shook you awake every now and then to see if you were paying attention. 

It was surprisingly not too bad to be around him. Especially when he wasn’t throwing insults or profanity at you. This was a side to Atsumu Miya you never expected to see. 

“You’re not, like, plotting against me, right?” you say through sleepy eyes.

“What, no? What do you even mean?” his eyes tear off the TV for a brief second.

“Like, you’re not treating me all good, claiming you like me, as some sick joke?”

You see his ears turn red, he probably forgot that he confessed while drunk.

“No,” he hesitated before keeping a straight face, “I like you, for real,”

“And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’ll always be sorry to you for what I put you through,”

His words reach the younger you that’s deep inside of you. The words that she never heard finally being spoken, and it’s somewhat healing.

“You never deserved that,” he looks forlorn as he stares at you, “And if I could take it all back, I would,”

“I-” you’re at a loss of words. 

Maybe it was time to forgive him. If what he was saying was true and genuine, then he really meant every word that came out of his mouth.

“It’s fine, Atsumu. We can just put it behind us. I appreciate your words,” 

It was a burden to carry this baggage all throughout your life. It finally felt like it was right to let it all go now. 

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. 

Forgive but never forget.

———

During the next month leading up to Championships, Atsumu took every chance he would get to sweep you off your feet. 

It might’ve been working. 

He’d come over after practices (even uninvited) to help you organize and take your notes, or sometimes you’d go to his (against your will) to watch movies or play card games. Good morning and good night texts being sent daily. 

It’d never escalate. Never. If something was going to happen, it was going to take time and more inner healing. 

You hate to admit it, but there was a chance you were falling for Atsumu. You hated it so badly. You know you in the past would murder present you for even considering him. But you now feels like it’s not so bad being in his presence.

It’s sad though. Ever since you began talking to Atsumu, it felt like the distance between you and Kiyoomi increased. You still try to text him as much as you possibly can, but it’d take days before he would get back to you.

You suppose it happens.

Atsumu is relentless with his advances, though. Sometimes annoyingly so. Every time he shows up at your door with flowers, popping the question will you be my girlfriend? You’re quick to shut him down with a hard no.

If Atsumu Miya wants you he’s going to have to be patient. It’s the least he could do.

“I don’t know why you say no, we’ve known each other for so long, since high school,” he pouts, looking up at you as he relaxes his head in your lap.

“Did you forget you bullied me for half of that time?” you smile down at him.

His silence is a response in itself. “Thought so,”

———

“Alright guys,” Coach Foster starts, “tomorrow is the big day,”

“I just want to say you guys have been working hard all season, and I’m so proud to have seen all of you grow,”

Some of the guys fake aw at the coach’s words.

“We’ll leave at 6AM tomorrow for the big stage, be there or fend for yourselves,” with a clap of his hands, “Practice dismissed,”

Atsumu is quick to run over to you, using a strong arm to wrap around you and pull you close.

“You ready for tomorrow?”

“Agh, let me go Atsumu!”

He laughs before letting you go, watching as you pat yourself down.

You blow your hair out of your face before finally responding, “I think the real question is are you ready?” you smirk.

“Duh, when am I not?”

“Hah,” you pull your bag onto your shoulder, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Let me walk you out,” he runs to grab his stuff before catching back up to you. 

“So what do you say we hangout tonight?”

“I say no,” you grin, “I have to wake up early tomorrow and so do you,”

“No fun, Y/N,” he whines. 

“Whatever you can miss the bus on your own,” you say as you unlock your car.

He scoots you over to open your car door for you.  

“You’re disgusting,” you laugh, “thanks, though,”

“Of course, get home safely,”

“Mhm, goodnight, Atsumu,” 

He watches as you buckle your seatbelt, giving him a small wave before you switch the gear and pull away.

Atsumu was in deep.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[shuenkio]

Juno | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: Fluff.

Synopsis: Thought he'd be disgusted by your love letter however who knows what he actually feels toward you? When your friend accidentally puts that for fun note in your gift that you're about to give him?

Cw: Nothing.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A@N: Christmas's laterally 3 more months away but who cares, I wanna make a change 💪 plus Juno are on repeating, so why not make an inspiration fic about it?

The Earth's spinning, people are living their lives in their own way, especially with their loved ones. You wonder, to the point of this age, should you just grow old as an old bachelor or find someone? Well, looking at yourself in the mirror already answers all your questions; you find yourself didn't match your satisfaction.

Insecure about your look wasn't enough; another thing is you've been hopeless romantic all of your life. Deep down, you wanted to have someone stay by your side, holding your hand while looking at the sky when it's sunset, cuddle when it's rain, compliment all the sweet things you've ever needed every day, and last but not least, you wanted someone to love you.

It's a silly daydreaming; however, every single day you can't go a day without thinking about anyone randomly popping out, riding their white horse, kneeling in front of you, and asking you, Would you be their partner? That's kind of crazy. Ever since then, brushed it all off as if it's nothing.

Continue to work hard for your bill in this messy industry. Surprisingly, God always has his own plan; he won't let you die alone... Right? Apparently, there's someone just moving in next to your apartment, and it's a man. Oh my. No, you can't be thrill just because he's a man; M/N, behave yourself.

That's how thirsty you are; later on, you thought you're the problem and started to behave yourself to be less attracted to a stranger, especially a man. On one holiday night, while back from work as you were unlocking your door, it was a coincidence when the new guy came out at the same time. Both of you never get the chance to greet each other because you're such workaholics. He greets you with a warm smile on his face, offering a handshake, as you hesitated to but still did.

He then introduces himself as 'Heeseung' called 'Evan' for short. He also said he never gets the opportunity to meet someone, mostly who are his neighbors since they are always out of the house just like you. For now, Evan wanted to invite you for a coffee. Oh. Spare a glance at his towering figure up and down; you realize he's positive; no bad energy from him; yes, you happily agree. A day turns into a week, a week turns into a month.

Trying all your hardest not to fall in love with Evan, who likes to do all those weird gestures that make your stomach fill with butterflies every damn time. Maybe you lack affection, sort of. He looks cool, is an ACE in everything, at least he can cook ramen, is a green flag in your perspective, is gentle and respectful of the boundaries, but one thing that made you stop midway was he can't be gay.

Evan is probably a straight guy that you mistake with his clingy behavior. Sigh, a lesson of life learned as a homosexual person. It's not right to force him to like you back, isn't it? Not even right to confess your true heart when he's so straight code, or he's not? Or is it worth pouring away all the heavy weight in your chest? The TV play in the living room, an announcement that today is going to be snow on this special day too, a Christmas day.

Brainstorming to seek out his favorite thing as you pop out an idea by gifting him a logo set; he loves it too much you couldn't understand why. As you were preparing the gift with all your friends together in a room before going out to celebrate in the city, you suddenly wanted to write a confession note for fun—write everything that had been living in your heart for a long time that has been hurting—a poem, to be honest, well, a little freaky, because you know you'd throw them away anyway.

"You make me want to make me fall in love."

"Wanted you to adore me back, hold me like you always did, and always joke, telling me I'm your only friend."

"Sorry, I like you, but I can't help it."  "Liking you was the best experience in my life, and I hope for nothing but still us to be friends."

Out of the blue, coincidentally, once you finish the note, your friend happens to pull you for a group photo. While you were busy posing, one of your other friends had nothing to do, so they went to wrap all the gifts of all of them. Usually, at every Christmas festival, they are in charge of who does the wrapping. The group united is over; after they're all stepping foot in the city, they've all vanished. Holding your gift like a lost child, looking at the crowd of people who's busy with their own business.

The snow keeps falling down from the blurry sky nonstop, so cold yet it fits the vibe you were going for. Snuggle your hands inside of your pocket; you leave the scenes as you drag your feet to somewhere quiet, your favorite park that used to be lively but now it's a field of snow. Taking a hot breath under the cold temperature, a shadow cast towering upon you, looking up to see, it was actually your greatest neighbors, Evan.

"What are you doing here, Fox?"

"Me? Oh, just chilling; I don't like crowds anyway." response, the tip of your nose turns pink, which makes Evan find it adorable.

"Why? It's Christmas; you should go enjoy yourself!" Taking about Christmas alarms your mind; you take out the wrapped gift and hand it to him. He caught off guard to the gift you have for him. Everyone would give him gifts during this festival; never make him flinch but you, a different story.

"Ugh, don't get the wrong idea; you're my neighbors after all; neighbors gift neighbors, isn't that normal? Take it, unbox it," take a hold of his palm, and give him the gift while waiting patiently for his expression. Hearing you say those, he did as told. Unveil all the tie, tearing all of the paper. Evan sees a cartoon Lego set inside with a small scratchy note that is about to be trash. The corner of Evan's lip, tight into a cocky smile as he takes out the small note, and hands up to the light street nearby. Maybe he didn't laugh at the Lego set but something else.

Seeing a note that you did not put in there and a confession note too, your eye wide open. The heart inside of your chest is pounding and racing far from the beat. You were nervous and panicking. How can it flow in there? Oh, wait, don't tell your friend to put it in there; naur, screw you. Quickly get up from your seat. I wanted to grab that note away; however, who are you kidding, he was 180 cm while you? A tiny little person.

"Evan, give that back; it's not; it's not the right note. My friend mistakenly put them there. DON'T READ IT." jumping up and down, up and down to snatch the piece of paper away, which is no use. All you got was to exhaust yourself.

"Oh, let me see, hmm, mistaken? But I see your name under here from me, M-N. How is that a mistake?" Realizing Evan already read it, you stop there frozen; the outcome would be something you are not going to like. Same goes for Evan too. You thought he'd be all serious and disgusted by your love note yet replaced by giggles. Um what?

"You, M/N, why have you not told me sooner?"

"Because... You look straight, i guess. Sorry to assume, but you did look like it."

"Oh, come on, why should I be straight when you're alive?"

"I beg pardon??"

"The word 'I like you' is out trending, so I'd say I. Adore. You, my M/N. My gift for you is

'i love you too'

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Crd to all the room rightful owner: [divider Alanitalenia]

🗣️ ps: I was dead ass sick writing this, but still cooked anyway 🫂.

[romanoffsbish]

My Tummy Hurts

WandaNat x Reader

Warnings: Injured R / Hospital

It was an easy mission, so why were you here? | WC: 2,245

"Hey guys," you greeted your lovers with a smile, or so you thought, but all they got was an odd grimace.

"Detka?" You truly smiled then, but no communal joy followed as you slurred and pointed, "that's me."

"What the fuck happened to Y/N?" Natasha turned to accuse the men stood behind you, still on the quinjet.

——

The men immediately flew into a panic, all saying the same thing—you were fine, albeit worded differently. Natasha was seconds away from wringing their necks but her focus shifted back to you, who was now pouting and gripping at your burning stomach. "Wands?"

Wanda smiled at you, "What's the matter honey?"

"My tummy hurts," you uncharacteristically whined, laughter normally would've bellowed from behind you, Tony never one to miss a chance to tease someone, but then you swayed into Natasha's prepared arms and Wanda was quick to levitate you three to the medbay.

—

"Appendicitis?!" You exasperated for the third time, "are you fucking kidding me?!" Wanda shook her head, eyes empathetic as she reached for your hand, in the meanwhile Natasha chuckled over a spoonful of your lime jello—traitor that she apparently was. "Get out."

This caught the Russian's attention, her eyes widened at the malice in your tone and she was scared shitless to have to leave your side. You didn't mean it, as you wanted them close, but she didn't need to know that.

Natasha plopped the half finished jello down and moved her chair even closer, her hand reached for your free one and her heart settled when you let her grab it. "I—," she started but you just shook your head and smiled softly, "just don't laugh at me again, capeesh?"

"Now," you moved right on, the disdain back in your tone, "I just got back from space after karate chopping a pile of goop," you stole your hands back and gave your lovers a show of what took place before. Natasha trying her damndest to keep her laughter in, "Fucking sick as shit but now I'm taken out by a useless organ?"

"Mhm," Wanda hummed in amusement, "Bruce ran some tests and thinks that the creature you 'karate chopped' released a toxin into your body that caused the upset in your stomach and ruined your day home."

"Home," you repeated, voice soft as you reached for both of their hands again, squeezing to really get across to your lovers the sentiment of how great the drugs were. Not that you weren't a softie, because you were indeed the softest of the three, just never this publicly.

Natasha and Wanda shared a bit of eye contact before the witch was gone, you pouted at her absence but it was short lived when the assassin pecked your lips. "She's going to get the doctor malyshka, get the all clear so we can take you upstairs." You grinned.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "we knew you'd love that."

—

When you came to next, not even remembering falling asleep again, you immediately recognized the room. It was just as you left it all those years back, just with a few new boxes of clutter Wanda held onto and stored in here, and you were also lying in a more sterile bed.

Just as you tried to sit up you felt a hand on your chest keeping you down. "Wait, I'll sit you up Agent Y/L/N."

A frown naturally overtook your face at the unfamiliar sight of a blonde woman in a white coat, but before you  could even consider taking her up on an identity the door flew open and your girlfriends ushered her out.

"Wa—," before you could finish speaking a spoonful of bone broth was shoved into your mouth. Judging by the sunsetting in the sky you knew it was already the following day, which was admittedly slightly alarming. Yet your urge to inquire the time flew out the window as the bite of food kicked the hunger in your body up.

After scarfing down the bowl you begged for more, but not of the soup. “Y/N no, I am not feeding you ice—.”

“I am dying,” you dramatized, “I need a pint to live!”

Wanda was about to admonish you for all the begging and humoring of death, but then she caught sight of your pouting lip and wet eyes, so of course she melted. Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics before she knowingly slipped out of the room to collect the first outlandish request of many, she could only assume.

When she returned the atmosphere was calmer, you were telling Wanda, who was sat at your bedside with a full smile, about the moments leading up to the fight.

“Tony, resident idiot that he is, caused the power in the entire city to go out for the sake of his suit mods, which made our attempts until then to stay hidden wasted.”

“Sounds about par for the course,” Nat teased her way into the conversation and you looked to her with a brighter smile at the sight of the ben and jerry pint.

The women took turns replying to you and spooning the ice cream into your mouth. You talked with a full mouth but Wanda let it go each time, a bit too relieved to still have you here for her to deem it worth scolding.

It wasn’t until the witch could see, in your eyes, just how tired you were that she decided to stop letting it all slide. It was sweet the way you tried to stay awake just to talk to them, but once the woman set the empty container down and wiped your lips clean she was inconspicuously putting you to sleep. Her words of reply faded into hums as she mindlessly traced her fingers over the exposed skin of your arms until your words aimed at Natasha faded out and became a snore.

—

The pair had left you sleeping in your hospice bed about an hour ago, it was hard to convince the Dr on duty to let you leave the ward after surgery but Tony's check book came out and now the woman is settled in a room across the hall for the night. Unnervingly.

The woman watched you sleep for about ten minutes after having administered your medicine and feeding you a pint of ice cream, much to your delight, Wanda's dismay and Natasha's envy. They'd made sure Friday locked you in before they headed down to eat dinner.

The natural redhead huffed, again, as she pushed the mushy green beans around her plate, ignoring the red tinted look of agitation Wanda sent her way. "Bros'."

(knock it off / quit)

"Nyet," the redhead grumbled over a bite of potatoes.

"She needs her rest," Wanda decidedly empathized.

"I missed her," the redhead sighed, "we were going to finish the bannister garden and cuddle under stars."

The witch felt a similar ache, that mission you were on took an entire month, you were fine too, but no longer. Wanda moved her chair closer, leaning her head on the redheads shoulder, dainty fingers wrapped around a muscular bicep, both woman shivered. For a moment the silence was peaceful, but then the witch sighed, "She was going to help me plant in said garden."

Natasha took a big bite of her steak and got lost in thought about how you somehow perfectly fit into their dynamic. You build things and spar with her, then go garden while discussing your latest read with Wanda. Like Nat, you can't cook but like Wanda you can bake.

"Our multifaceted, badass girlfriend," Wanda coo'd seconds later and Natasha snorted, "taken out by an appendix." Wanda shoved her shoulder but chuckled alongside her as they both silently regarded you with a different fondness. Natasha loved your goofy side.

The first time she'd met you was the worst day of her free life, Wanda was off on a dangerous mission and communications had been lost in the worst of it. You were her only hope as you worked tirelessly to get her back online. Her hands were shaking against her will, so she had to guide you, shields top agent, instead.

They called you her shadow, it was rumored around the base that you studied her fighting and mirrored her in not only strength but intellect. Unfortunately for you that meant being woken up only hours after returning from your own tumultuous mission. To meet your idol and crush while drooling into your pillow wasn't exactly pleasant, nor ideal when you're doing it to reconnect her with her girlfriend, it hurt.

Yet you persevered on through the awkward moments of silence and smiled when the comms cracked to life.

"Agent Romanoff, the comms are—."

"Natasha?" Wanda coughed and the redhead laughed emotionally, you were alarmed to see the Black Widow cry but it was endearing above all else. "Detka, I am so happy to hear your voice—fuck, I-I love you Wanda Maximoff, moya krasivaya detka."

Judging by the gasp on the other end you realized you were trapped in an intimate moment with them. It was beautiful and unfairly gut wrenching all at once. Soon enough it was Wanda's turn to cry out, "I love you too Natasha Romanoff; more than anything."

It was sweet, intimate, and then you sneezed. Glaring green eyes found yours and you could only shrug. "You kidnapped me from my bed, brought me to a room layered thickly in dust and didn't consider this."

"Natasha, what's going on?" The redhead smirked at you and whispered, "Wanda, meet Y/N, my stalker."

Your eyes widened at the lightweight true call out but kept your cool all the same. "You kidnapped me."

"You're free to go agent," she softly called out, it was a bit of a shock to see her this way when her reputation held a different tone. Just as you went to walk by she grabbed your arm, grip soft as she squeezed. Your attention shifted up and she smiled. "Thank you."

"Anytime," you shrugged it off nonchalantly but she knew you meant it sincerely. Just as you were almost out the door you turned and teased. "Thank me with an invitation to the wedding. I've experienced a Wanda party in full effect; I'll have the salmon."

Wanda appreciated your softer side the most.

One time, just before they asked you to be theirs, when you thought no one was watching, you had an entire conversation with their cat, Liho. Scratching his chin, feeling the purr of his gratitude on your fingertips as you animatedly discussed your day aloud with him.

"Natty and Wands are so considerate," you sighed dreamily, "and sweet—I woke up to breakfast and lunch made for me as if they weren't really busy."

You paused, hand reaching out to scoop the teetering feline up so he could sleep as you spoke a bit softer, "Then they both gave me a hug in greeting and I nearly couldn't breathe because of just how stunning they both are, no makeup and in their matching pjs."

The way you spoke made Wanda smile, her heart nearly leapt from her chest at your pure adoration.

An adorable groan fell from your lips before you shamelessly concluded, "you're the luckiest kitty on earth, with the unobtainable milfs of my dreams."

Wanda walked away with a pep in her step as she went to seek Natasha out with the good news. When the elevator dinged you released a breath shortly after, hoping now that they'd make a move as you pet their cat that would soon adopt you as his favorite.

Truth be told, everyone in the room favorited you.

—

A smile took over your face as you heard your lovers laughing through the vents of your old room back from when you were single but shared a floor with them. It was endearing, hearing the warmth and deepness of their well established connection still burning bright.

It took you awhile to feel welcome in their dynamic, even with the invitation; what really helped you along the way was the sneaky moments like these. Where they thought they were quietly simping over you but you caught the whispered words and sweetest giggles.

Hearing it then helped you to regard them as safe, because they were talking out their complex feelings. How they felt about the other having these feelings, neither was offended by the other and it shocked you. Their flattery was not lost on you with their willingness to even risk the beautiful thing they already had going.

Then to hear it now, and have it solidified that even in moments of upset they'd find a way back to that same peace within seconds—they're safe, and you are loved.

Something you knew well, and felt as they gave up on sleeping without you that night—against that doctors orders of course; when you swiftly looked up from your book the women were stood at the door with sheepish smiles. None of you spoke, all very much aware of the state of codependence that exists within your dynamic.

Natasha yawned dramatically and Wanda huffed before she snapped her fingers. Soon two cots were beside your bed once the red mist had cleared, all wires adjusted accordingly before they laid down, took your book and covered up, then slid a hand each into yours.

"Goodnight," you yawned, "I love and missed you too."

[novasintheroom]

070. Bird

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.5k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: You ask Vash why he calls you 'mayfly.' He has a similar question.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3.

“Why do you call me ‘mayfly?’”

The question comes on a random Thursday, deep into your friendship and the deserts. A pass-the-time sort of thing that leaves Vash stumbling for purchase on the hard rocks you two are climbing. “What?” He calls down, though he heard you just fine.

You grunt, hefting yourself higher on the next bout of rocks and dusting your hands from sand and grit. “I said: why do you call me mayfly? You know that’s an insect from Earth, right?” You look around. Shielding your eyes, you see rock formations for miles. It’s a hardier part of the land; not so sandy, with tough rock beneath every step and basic shrubbery littered throughout. There’s a tint of green on the horizon, melding in with the sky.

Vash takes a second to breathe. He should have known the question would pop up at some point. Been more prepared. “Uh,” he mumbles, feeling the rock wall in front of himself, “I know,” he says, lamely.

You snort and look up at him. “So? Why are you comparing me to a bug?”

Well he can’t just tell you, can he? He can’t say ‘you’re the love of my life and I see that as so fleeting and precious, and I just want to protect you and keep you safe from anything and everything.’

Instead, he says, “Bugs are cool.”

It at least gets a laugh out of you. “Okay. Keep your secrets then.”

“No, really! Bugs are cool! There’s a few from Earth that made it out of the Fall and actually survive out here!”

He hears you gasping as you continue to climb, trying to catch up to him. He slows down to let you. “So…” you take a gulp of air, “you call me ‘mayfly’…because I’m hardy?”

Oh, that is so not romantic, is it? He turns to kneel on his outcropping, offering you a hand up when you get close enough. “No,” he admits, “though you are tough. It’s because…I…”

You take his hand and stare up at him. It’s a moment that hangs in time in his mind; you, sweat streaking down your face and hair, looking up at him with hope and a little excitement. You know why he calls you ‘mayfly,’ you just want him to admit it. His cheeks pink, and he looks away. “Why do you call me ‘birdie?’”

Your lips thin to a smile, and you heft yourself up to stand next to him on the small plateau. “Because birds from Earth were flighty, and spook easily, and because you sprout feathers whenever you get too flustered.” You reach out and pick at his hairline, plucking a small, black feather from it. Vash yelps and smacks your hand away.

Rubbing the sore spot, Vash grumbles, “That can’t be it.”

You turn the fledgling feather this way and that in your fingers. “Just like bugs being ‘cool’ can’t be it either.”

Touché. He smiles bashfully and rubs his neck, feeling the sweat cool on his fingers.

Perhaps you two aren’t ready yet to outright tell each other what your nicknames mean. But Vash trails closer to you after this, keeping a pinky finger outstretched to your own – just in case they happen to hook together, by chance.

Or by choice.

[theblueflower05]

Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

(Part Three of the First Love/Late Spring series)

A/N: This is a monster of a part. I thought about splitting it into two but it just wouldn’t make sense to the story! I hope you babies like it.

Word Count: 10+ (holy fuck)

Warnings: This story is smut filled. All future installments of this story will be explicit.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Oral(female & male receiving), fingerfucking. Penetrative sex. Breeding. Talks of anal. Spanking. Cum eating. Dirty talking. A bit of exhibitionism if ya squint. Pretty much all the sexy sexual things you can imagine.

Summary: You and Neteyam move into your new home and spend your first Fertility Season together. Neteyam x Metkayina Reader

Series Masterlist (all parts can be found here)

Previous:<Crawling Back to You

Next:> Part Four (currently unnamed)

Honey, I belong with you

And only you babe.

Only you my girl. Only you, babe.

Only you darling. Only you- Dark Red, Steve Lacy

You had never been good with change.

Your steadfast nature flourished in routine. You found happiness in the known. In your corner of the world, mixing tinctures and tending to your clan. You’d been well aware of your role from a young age, had thought you’d understood the great mother’s plan for your life-

And then the Sully’s had ridden in on the strong east wind.

There had been invisible strings at play.

Unbeknownst to you fate had threaded you to a future that you couldn't have foreseen even in your wildest dreams. Entangled your heartlines with the last person you ever would’ve expected-

You think about the fact as you stare out at the choppy sea. Your hands are busy collecting the last of your belongings, but your mind is far away. Distracted and restless as the storms that gather along the coastline. The sky is dark and rain already falls in a light misting.

Fertility Season is here, palpable as it rolls over the village of Awa’atlu.

You’ve never experienced it this way, always a spectator and never a participant. Normally at this time of year you’d be preparing to assist the other villagers through the week of haze induced mating. Being bogged down by wet weather and running from Mauri to Mauri had always been exhausting, but still. You knew how to do it, we’re accustomed to what was expected of you when a healer was needed.

What would be expected of you as a mate?

The thought excites you and terrifies you all the same.

You want to be with Neteyam. There is no question about the fact. You crave him in a way that you didn't know was possible. Carnal and inescapable. Being with him is as easy as breathing,

It’s everything else that’s harder.

You’re an adult now, have been for years, yet you still live in your family home. It’s not that you had been forced to stay. Ao’nung had taken his leave after his rite; his hut more of a bachelor pad than anything. He still came to his parents home daily to raid their food stores and have his mother touch up his braids- but still. He’d jumped fearlessly into independence and had been living on his own for over a year.

All you’d ever known lived inside these walls.

Your Uncle Tonowari and Aunt Ronal had taken you in at such a young age that you don’t really remember anything else. You’d slept in the same bed since you were a childling, in your secluded little corner. Decorated with all of your trinkets and shrouded in familiarity, you’d loved your space.

It was safety incarnate.

And you leaving was difficult, for everyone.

It would’ve happened one day, a necessary step towards adulthood that all had to take and yet as you took your turn you couldn't help but be a bit devastated. It felt like a shock to your system, gathering everything you’d accumulated and preparing to leave.

After Fertility Season, you wouldn't return. You’d never sleep under this roof again.

You and Neteyam would start to build your life together- and you’d do so in your own home.

It wasn't even as though you were going far, the vacated mauri that Tonowari had granted you permission to claim was mere meters away, still in the heart of the village. The move wasn't a major one, and would take no time at all. Nothing like the way the Sully’s had been forced to uproot and leave everything they’d ever known.

There was no reason for you to act like a baby about it. So don't allow yourself to.

Even with all of the swirling questions plaguing you, you put on a brave face. Kept it all smiles and reassuring nods. This was all going to be just fine.

Right?

Right.

It’s too busy a time of year for your Aunt and Uncle to be housebound. They tend to the people, attention occupied by assuring the good of the clan. Of course they had given you all of their love before leaving to fulfill their many duties as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik-

Ronal had been stony about your coming of age. Very helpful, sending you back and forth with arms full of supplies and many words of advice. Tonowari on the other hand had played at being unaffected- charitable as ever. Smiling the whole way, reminding you of how proud of you he is at every turn. You pretended not to see the mist in his eyes that he furiously wiped away when he thought you weren't looking.

Tsireya has tears, silent but steady, rolling down her face the entire time you prepare to leave.

She helps you pack and reassures you that she’s fine. She’s so happy for you, yet still. She sniffles paws at her nose every few moments, no matter how many reassuring words you give her.

“You’ll be fine” you hum, gathering the last of your herbs, the tiny vials clinking together as you toss them in with the rest of your things . “Aren't you excited that you get the bigger bed space now?”

She just shoots you a wet smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

Your baby.

Your sweetest girl.

It wouldn't be long before she was leaving the nest herself, but you don't remind her of that fact, you just embrace her tight instead.

Finally, with the large woven basket in your arms, full to the brim, you step out into the rain.

It's chillier then it usually gets on the island. The humidity and wind creating a cold that clings to your bones. You bound quickly down the buoyant netting. Everyone seems to be out, even with the weather- getting their affairs in order. It was going to be a long week- and the village was a buzz. Everyone flitting around, focused in on making sure their loved ones would be well taken care of.

It’s a bit embarrassing, the attention that you receive.

Well meaning clans members give you their blessings in spades. Tight hugs and words of well wishes. Whispered advice and wrapped parcels of food.

A group of Elders who you have known since birth stop you in your tracks. Their hands on your back, your chest, your arms, as they chant over you.

They ask the Great Mother to look over you during this season, to bless you with strong babies and healthy pregnancies. Their knowing smiles are both encouraging and mortifying.

“Your man sure is handsome” Ch’kal, a wrinkled woman with striking silver streaked into her long dark hair, starts “But do they not feed them in the forest? He’s so skinny, isn't he? I’ll give you our families recipe for Lomia-lok(cabbage like rice roll) Put some meat on his bones”

You want to argue that Neteyam’s not skinny, he’s lean. All muscle and sinew, he was stronger than he looked.

Instead you respond cordially “I will gladly take it, thank you for the offering”

“No worry, the skinny ones always have the biggest surprises under their twengs. My muntxa was a scrawny thing and look at how many little ones he gave me” She continues, a mischievous spark twinkling in her eye. Known for her unbridled, silver tongue. “You know what they say, you can’t judge the fruit by the tree”

You can feel the blush rise on your cheeks as images from the beach flash before your eyes.

She had no idea just how…well endowed your future mate truly is. His cock had felt so good in your hand, better than anything you had ever encountered. Huge and hard and all yours.

You keep that fact a secret, hold it tight to your chest as you break away from the crowds.

Lots of the homes of young couples have already been barred off. Their drapes pulled shut and wicker entry blinds secured tightly closed. A thin attempt of privacy. It does little to shelter the sounds of coupling coming from inside. Breathy moans and grunts could be heard, nearly drowned out by the whipping wind.

It was just the beginning. Fertility Season was known to be loud, your people not shy at all when it came to pleasure.

Eager to get out of the rain that only seems to get heavier as the hours pass, you duck down the netted pathway.

Your clan is lucky for the reefs, their protective cushion keeps the village from ever feeling the full fury of the storms.

Even still, by the time you’re at the mouth of your new home, you’re drenched. Your hair clinging to your back uncomfortably as you get to quick work.

The graciously given pod is something of a fixer upper.

Had been used for storage but cleared promptly when you and Neteyam formally announced your courtship. He wouldn't have to build a Mauri from nothing, but even then. It would be a while before the space felt your own. The bare walls unnerve you a bit.

A sturdy roof is all that's truly needed and it had been patched up just fine. The fire that Neteyam had started earlier crackles warmly, a pleasant welcoming as you dry yourself off.

The firepit in the center has been cleared of soot and debris and topped by sturdy rods that hold a ready to use skillet and hand-me-down stew pots. There’s baskets of fresh fruit and dried meat placed in rows near the jugs of fresh water, you suspect that neat work had been Neteyam’s mothers doing. Neytiri had been a great help in the relocation process. You still felt a bit awkward in her strong, silent presence but we’re no less grateful for the offered assistance.

A bed mat, thick and large enough for two sits in the back corner. Already piled with an accumulation of Metkayinan and Omaticayan woven bedding. You admire the foreign patterns that make up Neteyams quilts. They look cozy, so much thicker than your own thinner blankets.

You sink down, resting on your shins as you begin to arrange them. The need to nest is instinctual, deep rooted and you move on auto pilot as you straighten out the bedding. It had to be perfect, the home. Your bed. And it would be, had the potential to be.

Yes, it’s a little bit of a mess.

The collection of you and Neteyam’s things strewn out across most of the visible floorspace, not yet put carefully away and sorted. It’s also far smaller than what you’d grown up in. Kind of rickety and worn down-

But it’s yours. You would live an entire life here. You get lost in imagining it; raising children, growing old. Spending years cultivating endless memories- maybe you’d build onto the structure? Expand the pod, depending on how many children you have-

“Fucking hell” Neteyam curses in his fathers foreign tongue as he rushes through the entrance, quickly latching the canvas and wicker flap across the doorframe behind him. Securing your home against the stirring elements.

His arms are full and he’s soaked from the storm. Rivulets of rain water race down his sculpted body and you try not to be too obvious as you gawk at him.

He’s just so good looking, it really is unfair.

“It’s really starting to pour out there”

“Yes, I was worried you might of drowned” You grin back at him, loving the

“Ha, ha” Neteyam teases as he goes to drop the baskets full of food down by all of the others “It’s my mom. She wont stop. I keep trying to tell her that we will be fed for weeks but she just won't hear it. ”

“I think it's sweet” you hum as you watch the planes of his back, the muscles bunching as he bends down to arrange the fruit.

He’s so strong, holds it in his back and broad shoulders. You ache to run your fingers along his long spine.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip hard as you continue working at the bedding. Trying to get the blankets to lay just right. You don’t think it will truly be done until you and Neteyam’s scents are saturating every inch of fabric, but still. It’s good right?

All you want to do is drag him down, make him roll around in the bed mat. It’s too firm, not broken in yet. You need him to plow you into it, if only to soften it up a little.

Your thoughts had been horribly vulgar since that night at the beach. Vivid in a way that had you losing yourself to them often.

It had only been two eclipse’s since, but the days had been long and filled with rushed preparations. Neteyam had been preoccupied with making sure the Mauri was livable, that it was comfortable enough to house you, comfortably, for the duration of the coming week. Both of you would be lost to your hormones soon, it was best to get it all done while he still had his wits about him.

The spaces between intimacy make you anxious and antsy. You question yourself, every touch and word. He’d made it more than clear that he wanted to be with you but what exactly did that mean? Could you just touch him, however you wanted, whenever you wanted? You’d never shared that with a man and knew you had a while to go before the awkwardness of it all faded.

Neteyam’s presence breaks you out of your thoughts, a big hand coming to rest on your shoulder. Palm warm as he looms behind you “It looks good, yawne.”

A surge of pride runs through you, makes your fingertips tingle and tail swish slowly “Really? You don’t think it needs more blankets? I could hunt some down-”

His chuckle is low, deep. So gentle as he croutches down until he’s nuzzling your hair, speaking his next words so close to your ear that it flicks with the whisper of contact.

“There’s no need for that, it’s perfect. Such nice little nest for us to spend the season in”

How does he always know just what to say?

You lean into him heavily, your back meeting his chest. Stomach fluttering with excitement at the contact. You’ve wanted to be in his arms since leaving them and are pretty sure that this could become an addiction. Being so close to him was heady, you’re not sure if it’s the electric energy in the air- or if its just HIM.

His hands slide from your shoulder, skimming across your chest. Massaging your flesh with the pads of his fingers. Your heart flutters hummingbird fast as he thumbs at your collarbone and a small gasp leaves you as his fingers start to slip down into your skimpy top.

It’s been so hard, keeping your mind from sinking under the haze of Fertility Season. So many of your peers are gone to it. Completely to their hormones, tucked away together as the storms batter the shore.

His touches leave fire in their wake, warm you up from the inside out and melt what little control you have left. You’d been good, hadn’t you? Gotten everything in order, all of your responsibilities were squared away. You could just…have this. Have him, and your small home and the rising heat between you.

“Need you” you whisper as he begins to palm at your breast, rubbing a callused palm over the hardening bud of your nipple over and over again.

“Need me how?” Neteyam presses, not stoping his insistent groping “‘What do you need, yawntutsyip(darling)? My mouth, my hands? My cock?”

You choke on your own tongue, startled by both Neteyam’s raunchy words and the fact that he pinches your sensitive nipple hard as he speaks them.

In all reality, you want it all. Want to ride his fingers again, and feel his mouth all over you. You’d dreamt, so vividly, about his head between your thighs-

All of those pale in comparison to what you truly crave.

‘It’s the skinny ones that always have the biggest secrets under their twengs’

You maneuver in his hold, twisting until you come face to face with exactly what you desire.

With him standing, straightening out to his full height, and you still resting on your knees, your eye level with the prize. Saliva pools in your mouth as you lean in, sucking in deep lungfuls of his scent. Its so strong at his groin that even concealed by his tweng, it still fills your nostrils in fragrant plumes.

So virile and potent that your womb throbs sparply, empty and wanting.

You nuzzle between his legs, nosing eagerly at his covered bulge. When you begin wetting the cloth of with your open mouth kisses and wandering tongue, Neteyam winds his hands in your hair and tugs your gaze up to his-

He’s more than happy to let you explore and get your fill but the lack of skin to skin contact is driving him crazy. His amber eyes are low, his belly concaving with his quickening breath.

“Baby, you’re killing me” he whispers whinely and a feline like grin stretches across your face.

“We can't have my mighty warrior dying on me, now” you croon at him, your small hands running up his strong legs. His muscles bunch under your touch, his thighs firm up, tightening in anticipation “I just wanna...Can’t I have a little taste?”

When you cup where he’s chubbing up, he hisses warningly between his clenched teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair-a thinly veiled warning. You just continue to give him that innocent little look.

Neteyam reaches for the leather bound knots of his covering, tugging on them harshly to free himself from the increasingly tight constraints, its hard to wiggle out of it. Especially when you keep reaching for his swelling balls with deft fingers, your hand tucked in between his thighs-

“Y/N!”

You giggle at his tone, at the shrill warning as the tips of your nails scritch his delicate taint.

Neteyam is huge. His cock is as dark as the rest of his svelte body, but blooms rosy purple at the crown of his swollen head. Longer than it is thick, a bead of thin opaline precum oozes from his slit.

You hum in the back of your throat, swallowing thickly around the saliva that pools your mouth. You can smell his sex, smell his essence rolling off of him and it’s dizzying.

You’re absolutely overwhelmed by it. It triggers something deep and primal. You want to roll around in this smell, want him to cover your body in it.

“You smell really good” you whimper, face coming to rest in the crease of his groin “Eywa, Neteyam- I-I want-fuck“

He hums, the hand still in your hair turns comforting. Pats at your head like your a child. “You wanted to taste, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm” you squeak, inhaling deep lungful's of his rich aroma.

“Then taste, sevin(pretty girl). Here” he pulls you from his center, hold your head, guiding it until your lips hover his top “stick your tongue out-“

The grunt that leaves him sounds like it was punched right from his stomach.

You don’t stick your tongue out-it’s more you take as much of him as you can into your eager mouth. You want his taste down your throat, want to guzzle it straight from the source.

The sensations are exciting and new. Having something so big in your mouth is admittedly a bit awkward, but the flavor that your rewarded with more than up for it. His skin is musky and warm-cut only by the sharp tang of the precum pouring out of him.

“Slow down, damn it- don’t-” Neteyam calves burn, struggling to stay upright as you attack him. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You’re so hungry for it, gagging yourself harshly on his member. The sounds that erupt from your chest are animalistic, needy and a bit pathetic. You whine for him, knowing somewhere deep that you need his come inside of you.

He’s trying to keep his wits about him, really he is. Trying to guide you through it

“Breathe through your nose, aht. Just like that”

“Not so much teeth, a little gentlier”

“Deep-too deep! Not so deep!”

Between the sounds of your gagging and the little bobs of your head, Neteyam’s losing it. His hips chasing the sweet suction of your hollowed lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat. The rhythm is sloppy and it only takes one odd, pointed thrust to make you choke raggedly..

You cough, pulling off him.

Your sucking had been messy and clumsy, you smear spit all over his groin. Your chin shiny slick when you pull away for a much needed breath.

Neteyam is panting harsley, his face screwed tight in concentration.

“Am I doing okay?”

You’ve never done this part, and that idea that you might be doing it wrong gnaws at you. It’s a familiar uncertainty, one that you’d been warring with since you’d met the darker Na’vi. Neteyam was so sure- so good at all things, and while his competency was part of his appeal, it made you worried that he might realize just how fucking unexperienced you are.

His eyes open, fingers unclenching from the fist in your hair and coming to cup your jaw. You kiss his thumb when it runs across your lips, chase it with the tip of your tongue.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, Y/N. You almost made me come, I was barely able to catch myself”

The sensations stirring in your belly makes you groan, hug his legs tighter, your head pressed against his lower belly. The praise makes you feel lightheaded. Very much like you aren't really in this moment-

He clocks the slight change, on the way you’re clinging to him. He suddenly doesn't want the power dynamic, he doesn't want to leer over you any longer. Not with the sweet little nest you’d made right there just waiting to be used

“Is that what you wanted?” Neteyam wonders as he herds you, gentle but sure, back into the tangle of blankets. You go willingly, back resting against the padding, “To make me come?”

He likes this so much better. You all burrowed into the covers. He wants to pur at the sight of you, wants to dig you deeper into the nest. Cover your body with his own and never let you out.

“Mhmm” you stare up at him with big eyes. “O-of course I did. I want to know that I can bring you pleasure”

At his strong body as he crouches, shuffling forward on his knees. He’s as naked as the day Eywa brought him into this world. He’s something out of an ancient song, so bewitchingly beautiful. All of those sharp, jagged angles-

And yet he smiles at you so tenderly.

“You’re so sweet” Neteyam’s voice is a honeyed croon “Always trying to make me feel good. But I need you to feel good too- I need you to be comfortable with me”

“I am comfortable with you-”

“Are you?” Neteyam inquires, his hands skimming up your legs that are spread round his waist. Starting near your ankles, his palms skim up the firm lines of your calves, trace your knees. So patient in his exploration of your turquoise skin.

You’re panting shallowly at his touch on your thighs.

His bony fingers play with the plush flesh, digging into where your blubber meets hip. Squeezing at curiously. You feel exposed, giddy and scared at letting him touch you.

It’s not like that night at the beach. Not rushed in the shadows.

He takes his time, his golden iris’ searing in the fire light as he appraises you. You’ve never felt…so seen. You’d never had anyone take the time to look at you, like this. Boys in the clan had shot you greedy glances as you matured and came of age and as the niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, you’d become accustomed to having eyes watching your movements, judging- positively or negatively you never really knew.

It makes you want to run, that look on his face. All intense, focused in only on you. It’s too much, you want to curl into a ball. Away from all of this attention. Want to read his mind- try to understand what he’s seeing. What he wants.

So you can give it to him.

His fingers reach for your embroidered tweng, nimbly working the knots.

“Nete?” you breathe, your voice shaky with nerves.

Still, you raise your hips. Helping him slip the fabric from your body.

The inside of your thighs shine in the flickering glow. The juncture of your body sticky and ready for him. His nostrils flare, his thin tail shoots straight in the air. Stock still.

He’s breathing hard, gulping in lungful's of the air that's swimming with the scent of your pheromones. The scent of your wet cunt.

Emboldened by the sight you spread your legs, knees falling open. Revealing where you're hot and pulsing. The baby blue lips of your pussy are puffy, unfurling into a pretty rosy color as you bare your insides to him. Your hole twitches, pulses with your racing heart rate.

His gaze on the most hidden part of yourself makes you hot. It's secret, just for him. Just for his big honeyed eyes.

You reach down, spreading yourself with your fingers- your hard clit poking out of its little hood in a way that has Neteyam groaning. His shoulders shaking as he turns his head- like he just can't bare the view. You fingering your own cunt, spreading it wide for him would be burned into his corneas for the rest of his days.

Your fingers are soaked, barley dipped into yourself yet covered in your own arousal. You bring them up to Neteyams quivering lips-

He gasps, gaze snapping back to yours as you wipe your shiny slick over his cupids bow.

“Fuuuuuck” he hisses, grabbing your thin wrist bruisingly hard. Holding your feminine hand to his face, helping you to rub your wetness along his mouth.

You’re in love with him.

You have been for months. Your heart had pined for this moment. To share this with him, to be able to scent him. To hold him. To mate him.

You don't have it in you to wait any longer.

“Please” you gasp as his hot tongue delves between your fingers, tracing your knuckles.

“Please what?” he mumbles, his mouth busy collecting any and all of your essence that he could reach.

You’re overwhelmed, shaking. You think you may start crying- your eyes sting harshly. As harsh as the sting of your empty womb. “I-I-I don't know. Please. Just please-”

A flash of lightning strikes across the sky outside, so bright that the pod lights up for a moment with its vicious neon purple glow.

The two of you look at each other in a light that's new, foreign. His long dark braids look something like a halo.

Neteyam can see the tears gathering in your eyes. The desperation in the green orbs.

“Y/N” He breathes, lowering his head to yours. His forehead resting against your own as he clutches your hand from his mouth to his chest so that you can feel the way that it's racing. “oel ngati kameie. I’ve only ever seen you-”

You gasp, lips searching for his.

He repeats it into the pecking kisses. He wants you to know, to understand that this was all he’d ever wanted.

A woman, warm and loving and all his, in his bed.

He’d laid bruised and bloody on the battlefield dreaming of this. Thinking that it was too far out of his reach, that he could never have it. Though the woman in his fantasies face had always been blurry- he knew it had always only been you. Eywa had plucked him from the forest, from everything he knew, and plopped him in the middle of the ocean.

To bring him to you

You reach for your kuru, the thick braid easy to find in your loose hair. You need this, before he slips into your body you need to be connected to his soul. You’re gagging for it, shaking as you offer him everything you have to give.

Neteyam brings his own kuru over his shoulder and your stomach flops dangerously.

There’s a moment of stillness.

The storm rages steadily outside, the platter of rain on the canvas roof consistent. The howling of the wind strong- and yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat. Neteyams breathing. There are no more words to be spoken. No, they’d only get in the way. What the two of you are doing is ancient, older than Pandora itself. Its the base for all life, for all connection.

The tendrils at the end of your kuru glow, a lilac haze as they reach desperately for Neteyams own. Straining, writhing in a way that you’d never experienced.

Only calming as they connect with what they truly want. They bind together seamlessly, and the bond is sealed.

Tsaheylu is made.

The air is forced from your lungs in a breathless whimper at the contact. You can hear Neteyams own sounds too. But no, that's not really it.

You’re not hearing him, you’re feeling him.

His soul, his essence is bright and dancing. He’s stronger then anything you’ve ever felt, instantly seeping bone deep. He feels like the forest at dawn, like the last moment before the evening eclipse over the ocean.

You’d heard stories of the first time mates make Tsaheylu. Of course you had. Some had been dirty and scandalous, leaving you blushing. But most had been whispers of reverence.

There was nothing like it. Being connected to another Na’vi body, mind and soul was an experience that no one could truly put into words.

You get it now.

It's all consuming. Overwhelming. Euphoric in a way that you didn't know could exist.

You and Neteyam blur. You’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

His forehead grits against yours as he pants, lost to the sensation of you. Of him. Of the bond.

His arms twine around your middle, hauling you as close as possible. He wants to crawl into your skin, wants to dig so deep into you that he will never return to the outside world. He’s only yours, from now until the day he returns to the All Mother.

“I’m yours” you reply through the haze. The words spill through the neurological connection. He doesn't need to speak them out loud.

And neither do you. You needn't tell him what you want. He can feel it, can feel the hot pulsing of your desperate cunt. He grabs ahold of his hard cock and leads it to where you need him. He doesn't even need to look, though a part of him wants to watch you take it.

You cry out as you’re breached for the first time. Your virgnally tight body clinging to every inch of him as he sinks slowly into you. The sensations new and dizzying. Everything is too much, and at the same time not enough. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck as you choke on the stretch of it all.

“You have to relax for me, shh, it's okay. Don't tense up or else it will hurt more” He soothes you, because he can feel it all. Tsaheylu a feedback loop. It hurts, there’s no way for him to have completely eliminated the pain. But he works you slowly through it. Let's you take all the time you need as he carves out his place within your body.

His sharp hip bones meet yours and you shudder.

“You okay?” he worries as you shift against the large intrusion. Your hips shifting, testing. You just shake your head and bury it in his neck. Eyes screwed tightly shut as you try to adjust to him.

It takes a long moment for the burn to fade from pain…to something else. Something itchy and nagging.

“Mmm” your hips move in slow, restless, circles. Electric shocks racing up your spine, flowing through your kuru as his heavy length rubs a spot within you that feels so good “Move, ugh, move”

“Slowly” Neteyam starts to adhere to your plea’s. Trying not to give into his need to snap into you.

“Cant-ah. Feels so weird” you grunt, trying to nail that place inside of you again. Your gummy walls pulse around him, your body begging him to help. To make you feel good. “Move, move. Please, I need you to move faster”

“So fucking tight” he gasps as he pulls out, only able to get about halfway free, before your strong hole is sucking him right back in. “Never felt anything so tight”

He feels your flare of jealousy, uncomfortably hot, through the bond.

“Never- you can't be with anyone else again” you warn him through shuttered breath. Your nails digging into the smooth skin on the back of his neck, under his braids.

“My love-” his amused chuckle tickles your ear.

“No. You can never even look at anyone else again. You’re only mine” you seethe, your hips grinding into his dangerously. Encouraging him to take you. To pound into you the way you needed him to. “I���ll kill them”

Neteyam's groan echoes around the space of your newly shared home.

His thrusts grow strong, careless. Pulling out and then sinking back into your squelching heat, all the way to the hilt. Your body's jerk with the rhythm of his fucking. You hold on tightly for the ride, your knees hugging at his ribs as you give him all the room he needs to move inside of you.

His tip bully’s it’s way deep, too deep. You wail as it kisses your cervix. That sharp pain back, combined with the pleasure it was unbearable.

“Ah” you arch into the sensation, confused at the way your body welcomes it even though it stings, and feels scarily new. Neteyam grabs your left leg, raises it high until your calf rests on his shoulder.

Your eyes cross, your mouth falls open in a wordless gasp.

Everytime you try to suck in a breath, he fills you right back up. Hits that secretive, sensitive spot relentlessly. Its maddening, makes you shake all over-

“Neteyam” you warn, reaching for his hand. He just grabs your fingers, pins your arm over your head, hand held captive by his fingers as he starters down at you.

“Yeah? Are you there?” His thrusts turn very pointed, deliberate “Come for me, come all over me”

You’re tightening up quickly, screeching as you clench around his plowing cock. The waves of pleasure are almost too much, feels too good. Your stomach quivers, and it’s like you dove from the highest cliff as you’re struck by your first orgasm.

It’s so good you can taste it-

-You choke on it as Neteyam continues his relentless pace. Not slowing down even a little bit as you struggle. Left hypersensitive, still pulsing around him as your orgasm is drawn out. Never ending. You’re blubbering, trying to ground yourself, holding onto him as he pistons inside of you.

His panting breaths are damp as he hides in the skin of your neck.

Holds his body to yours as he works himself to his release. One of his hands still keeps your arm pinned above your head- the other works his way to your leg that’s loose around his hips. Props it up to join the other, so that both of your legs dangle over his broad shoulders. Bends you into a mating press that has you screaming. Truly unable to take in a breath as he displays all that strength of his- and holds you down. Makes you take what you’d wanted to much.

It doesn't take much at all- when his sharp canines graze your shoulder you’re gone for. You don't think you’d truly come down from the last orgasm when you fall into another. You can't even take in a breath to make sound, you just wheeze as you come.

Neteyam had wanted this to be special. Had wanted to do it right- to mate you the way that your ancestors had intended.

As he bites into your shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin- he seals the bond. Its painful, and the sharp metallic twang of your blood fills his mouth as he fills your pussy with his seed.

His groin presses against yours, holding you still. Keeping the rivers of his release inside of you. You're whimpering and twitching, yet still he pins you.

His warm, slippery tongue laves against the sluggishly bleeding wound.

He hopes that it sticks.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The hours drone by and day turns to night, the dusk not bringing an end to the storms. If anything they get louder. The rain falling heavier, thunder roaring startlingly. You are so beyond fucking glad that you don't have to brave it, that you instead get to laze in bed. Wrapped up in warm, worn blankets.

Your body melts into Neteyam’s as he massages every inch of exposed skin. His strong fingers digging into your tired muscles as you lounge against him, cheek laid comfortably on his chest.

You feel boneless, but also more powerful than you ever have before. You’re a woman mated now. All of those seasons spent alone, all of the whispers. They don't matter now.

You have a mate.

You hug Neteyams waist a little tighter, hiding your smile in his dark skin.

He chuckles, can feel how proud you are of yourself through the bond. He hasn't bothered to disconnect your kuru’s after he’d slipped out of you, not ready to release the Tsaheylu. You we’re more then happy to be connected for him for as long as he liked.

You think you might enjoy this part as much as the sex. The afterwards is soft, he attendants to you diligently. You can feel his affection pour off of him in waves. It's thrilling, all of it. This whole day had been filled with fresh experiences. You feel brand new, a different side of yourself coming to the surface.

You’d never been anyone’s lover before.

It makes you all giddy and excited, being his. Having him be yours.

You tell him things you’d never told another soul, not even Tsireya. All your secrets come flowing out of you like a babbling brooke. You want him to know all of you, even the embarrassing scary parts.

“I can see it” He chuckles heartily at the story from your childhood. The one about a bet gone wrong, one where Roxto had been drug down the depths by an angry mother Kapapal(octopus). You’d jumped in after him even though you we’re smaller then a shell shocked Ao’nung, it had all ended in a cloud of black ink that had stained your skin for weeks “You’re my brave little warrior, aren't you?”

“You are the brave one between the two of us. It’s not every tsamsiyu (warrior) that can pass two Iknimaya”

Neteyam shrugs, his hands working on a knot between your shoulder blades “Things like that have never been hard for me. It's simple when there's a task that I can see the end of. It’s like- that is the way my mind works. Anything can be done if you keep your head down and figure out a way whether through. Lo’ak calls me a bootlicker for it. Maybe he’s right, I do not know”

Your fingers dance along a raised, jagged scar. It's on his lower stomach, stretched out across his right hip. It had to have hurt, even now you can feel how deep the scar tissue runs. His body is littered with them. Little tokens from the war. It hurts you that his learned coping mechanism is essentially just sticking it out. Bracing himself against the pain and swallowing it down.

He’d never have to do that again. Not with you.

You cup his jaw “Your brothers not the brightest ilu in the pod, I wouldn't pay any mind to his opinions. It’s why I’m glad that him and Ao’nung are friends now- their voices cancel eachother out”

Neteyams laughter is ringing and contagious.

He’s beautiful when he’s given the opportunity to be vulnerable. When he’s not weighed down with the weight of all of his responsibilities. His eyes glitter when he talks about the forest, about his grandmother and the Omiticaya people. About the vast mountain ranges and dense, endless greenery.

Even when he speaks of the war and training, its not with the sadness that you know you’d be overcome with if you ever had to face such adversities. He was good at following orders and giving them, had an entire air fleet that was at his control.

He mentions a name a few times. A female name. You can help but notice it.

And its stupid. Really it is, but you recall how he'd said you were the tightest he’d ever been with. How many women had be been with, back home? You knew that he wasn't a virgin. He’d never put up that front with you but still-

You busy yourself with the still raw tattoo that sprawls over his right arm. Across his shoulder and down his bicep. It’s still hot and healing. Easy for you to focus on, your withdrawing nature flaring up protectively. You’d rather focus on tending to his wounds then being stupidly upset about his past romps.

You retreat from his arms with a small smile, gently breaking Tsaheylu-

“Hey!” Neteyam protests, reaching to pull you back, but you just giggle at his antics. Standing up and scurrying to the other side of the hut.

Your belongings were scattered all over the place- but still. You dig for the little jar. Giving a triumphant little “aha” when you find it.

He pouts as you plop back down next to him, demanding you give you his arm.

“It’ll get infected if you don't take care of it” you warn as you spread the viscous liquid over the slightly raised ink. Rubbing it into his skin, blowing on it when he hisses about the sting. Kelp Jelly tended to do that. Still, he leans into your touch.

“Let me put some on your shoulder” he requests when you’re finished nodding at the scabbing bite on the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. You allow him to dip his long fingers into the jar, to spread it over your own wound.

“Did I upset you?”

“No”

“Liar” he sighs, working the jelly in a thick layer “I felt it through Tsaheylu. Was it the war? I don't have to talk about that if you don't want me to”

“Of course it wasnt that…” your lips purse as you try to pick your words in a way that will least embarrass you. Try and fail. “Who’s Zeytawni?”

Neteyam gives you a long blank look before a smile cracks across his handsome face. His braids sway as he shakes his head, his thumb brushes soothingly at the skin around the bite.

“You are the most jealous woman I’ve ever met” He’s extremely amused, it makes your cheeks burn and a haughty protest raise in your throat.

“I am not! And if I was-am I not rightfully jealous? The two of you we’re obviously close” you splutter because it's not fair! That it’s all a joke to him. You’re always so flustered and he’s always so collected “I know that you have had…women. I get to be curious about that. I’ve never had partners the way that you have. I don't have anything to compare it to-”

“Stop” Neteyam’s voice is sage but demanding. He puts the jar of healing salve down beside him- before his fingers spread across your bare breast bone. Pressing his palm firmly against your heart.

“There’s nothing to compare. Nothing at all. Please do not ever break the bond again before you ask me about other women. You could’ve have felt for yourself what I feel about all of this.”

Your mouth quirks as you roll his words over in your head. You know he’s right- that you had a one way ticket into his head just moments ago. But maybe you’d been scared about what you’d find. Still naively clinging on to your insecurity.

“I'm just not very experienced. You know that. I’d barely done anything with anyone before you” You whisper, feeling smaller than you we’re.

“That’s…not a bad thing. Not for me. I don't like the idea of anyone else touching you” Neteyam reassures you, but his jaw smarts. Like even thinking about this makes him a little sick.

You get a little thrill out of it “Why? Are you…jealous?”

He snorts. His amber eyes boring into yours for a moment before he speaks “You know exactly how I feel about the attention you get from the men in the village”

You giggle, reaching out to press a peck of a kiss to his cheek “No one ever sparked my interest.”

“Really?” He argues, scoffing a bit as he pickles on a loose thread of the bed mat “None of them seemed to get that hint, huh? They all thought they had a chance.”

You shimmy as close to him as you can get, molding yourself into his side. His arm raises so that you can press right under his armpit, skin to skin. Your hardening nipples graze the side of his ribcage.

You love this. It may not be exactly healthy but you do.

You love feeling like you're not the only one losing your damn mind over the idea of ever having to share what the two of you had.

You smother the side of his face in kisses, your lips pecking all over his cheeks. His nose. The corner of his lips- which purse as he gives a halfhearted return.

“You’re the only one who ever had a chance” you promise as you begin to drag wet open-mouthed kisses down his neck. He’d shed his many chokers, and his bare throat is just so pretty.

“Ahuh” he grumbles, but his head lulls, giving you more room “Even today, I watched so many head’s turn to watch you. As you readied to move into my hut, to live with me. It’s maddening”

You heat up at his words. You feel your core begin to pulse again. You want him like this all of the time, and you know that the future is going to be littered with attempts at getting your man this riled up as much as possible.

“Mark me up some more?” you suggest, casually as ever. Grinning when your mate groans a little at the idea “Cover me in your cum. Make me smell so much like you that no one will ever question who I belong to.”

You yelp, shocked, when his hand claps loudly against your ass.

Swatting it once in warning, before his big paw begins to grope at the hot flesh. For a moment you’re so surprised, so scandalized, that you freeze.

That’s just for a moment though. You’re quickly resuming your assault on his neck, your tail wagging excitedly behind you.

“You like this?” He phrases it as a question, even though the bastard already knows. As though he can't tell, can't feel how wet you are for him when his fingers slip between your cheeks and circle your hole. Your pussy's already futtering for him.

“Mhmm” you whine as he presses into you, fingers disappearing knuckle deep. Not slow, no. He starts to fuck you with them almost automatically “Of course I like that you want me”

He pounds you with his hand and you gasp into his ear, jutting out your sweet behind. Wanting him harder, wanting all three of his long digits pressed as far into as they can go. It feels almost like a punishment…

You think you might like that, too.

“Silly girl” He chastises as he plays your body like a flute “I’ll always want you”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The week passes by, although you truly wish it wouldn't- and slowly the rains start to clear. The storms fading into something docile, rainbows glittering as they catch on the many little windchimes you’d hung at the entrance of your home.

You and Neteyam don't leave the Mauri once. Completely enthralled with one and other. Intertwined too deeply to move far from the bed mat. He keeps you fed, cleaned and hydrated. Tends to any and all of your needs. Makes sure your greedy body is satiated-

“Ma Nete” you whine from your place among the blankets. The pout on your face is endearing, dramatic as anything though. "Don't go"

The two of you hadn't broken Tsaheylu in days. You could survive the separated bond for ten minutes.

“I have to go get more fresh water. We ran out last night- don’t look at me like that! I’ll be right back!” He’s refastening the leather straps of his tweng. He just has to go as far as the center of the village, to the well.

You’re not having it. You have no idea how he had wrestled his way out of your arms, but this wouldn't do. There we’re still women in the throws of Fertility Season. You could hear the caterwauling. He couldn't just go out there with all of his muscles-

“But paskalin(honey). We can go get water later. Together” you protest and he shakes his head, grabbing the water pail next to the fire pit.

“Or I can go get it now and get it over with” he sniggers, making a move for the doorway. He’s reaching for the flap, reading himself to leave.

When your pitiful moan rings through the air.

He should be strong, should be a dutiful mate. Needs to clear his head enough that he can take care of you-

Instead he turns back.

You’re a dirty cheat, he’s learned that fact during the last week. A sore loser. A little brat who couldn't take no for an answer. He’d spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten and he blames Tonowari for it. He wonders if the older man had ever given you healthy boundaries;

You’d do just about anything to get your way. Resort to nasty tricks that you know he couldn't resist-

This being one of said tricks.

You’re on your hands and knees, your spine a perfect arch as you raise your ass into the air, and keep your head and shoulders pressed into the bedding. Your thighs parted wide as you reach back, tugging on your cheeks.

Presenting beautifully for him. The perfect picture of submission.

Your still wet holes wink at him hypnotically. Luring him back like a fish on a hook.

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, hard. Feet rooted in place as he battles with himself.

“Y/N…” He warns, even though he knows it’s futile. He can't resist you like this.

Can't resist you at all.

“Come taste” you purr, wiggling your hips as your delicate fingers trace the furl of your sphincter. “Tastes so good, huh, paskalin? It's cause I'm full of your cum. We taste so nice combined”

Neteyam groans, deep and gutted, and the pail clatters to the floor.

He dives back in, face first.

Not at all ashamed over the fact that his previously unswayable sense of duty deems to dissipate when it comes to you and your demands.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The village is coming back to life. Couples rejoining the world after their week spent intimately tucked away. Slowly but surely Awa’atlu will return back to it’s everyday routine.

Jake maneuvers the walkways, smiling at people he passes. It had been much like this, in the forest. Fertility Season had been something he’d definitely had to get used to, a culture shock to the extreme, but once he realized how important it was to the Na’vi he’d got with the program pretty damn fast.

It's a sacred ritual, Neytiri had explained to him the first time he’d participated in the ritual. He had spent the week trying to keep up with his mate, completely surprised by the tantric, communal, act of sex.

It’s vital for their population, Norm and Max elucidated. They needed to have these seasons so that their tribes can stay afloat. If they don't, there weren't be enough babies born.

Whatever the true cause, it was an experience for sure. Back home in the forest as the Omiticayan Olo’eyktan, he’d been much more hands on. Running around like a chicken with his head cut off for weeks before the event. Organizing the hunt, making sure the coupling Na’vi were taken care of. Keeping the entire clan afloat.

It had been different this year, as most things we’re since the big move to the coast.

This year he was just another Metkayina clans member. He and his mate still had children under their care and didn't feel the lure of the heat as intensely. He wondered if after Tuk came of age, would Neytiri want to go back to being active participants?-

They Sully’s had been of service where they could, picking up any slack. Helping with odd jobs. Kiri had been a great help to Ronal, her quick healing hands had come in handy to the heavily pregnant Tsahik. Tuk beaded bracelets and delivered them, along with little prayers, to everyone's doorsteps. Neytiri had become quite the fisherman in her time on the Island and made sure to double up on her hunts, less anyone need a meal. Even Lo’ak had pitched in, an aid when needed. The kid bitched about it the whole time, but Jake had reminded him that it would be him in the mating couples’ place soon. Lo’ak had rolled his eyes and shrugged his dad off. Jake didn't miss the way his youngest son shot a very busy Tsireya a lingering look.

There was one very big presence missing though.

His eldest son had always been his right hand man, and especially during busy times of the year such as this, Neteyam was the always biggest help. Running around almost as much as Jake, taking on any and all responsibility. Completing even the most minute of errands.

Another change this year. His eldest had finally chosen a mate. And had been locked away in his own Mauri for the past week. Participating in Fertility Season for his first time.

It's why Jake was sent on this little task. Neytiri had filled a large woven basket with more food. Pitchers of well water, replacements of medicinal herbs.

“Isn't this a little much? We just got them all stocked up-”

Jake hadn't even bothered to finish his sentence, cut off by his wife’s withering glare. He’d just taken the basket and promised to deliver it safely.

He adores that she’s such a good mother to their children, he’d lacked that back on Earth. Him and Tommy had all but raised themselves. But did she have to be such a…hover mom? Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted some space to mate with Y/N. Private from his bustling family.

Jake couldn't deny that he’d missed his boy. Was a bit worried about him. Neteyam been so against mating back in the forest, rejected any and all proposals. Fertility Season could be…alot, to say the least. A marathon that even the most experienced had trouble running. Jake wasn't ashamed to say that he’d fainted his first time. Neytiri had almost killed him.

He’ll just check in quickly. Drop off the goods. Make sure no one is unconscious. It’ll be fine, most everyone has come out from the haze of the Season anyway. The two of you we’re probably just recovering from the week. Cleaning up-

As he reaches the Mauri, he realizes how wrong he was.

Your moans can be heard through the walls. Syrupy and raspy, you sound worn out. Yet nowhere near stopping.

“Neteyam- ugh-right there. Right there”

Jakes ears flatten against his head and his eyes go comically wide.

“Take it, Y/N. Fuck-”

Jake abandons the basket by the door and hightails it the fuck out of there before he hears anymore. Na’vi are different about sexuality. Far more open. There’s no stigma or shame, just love and acceptance. He’d grown to appreciate it during his years on Pandora.

That being said, Jake had no desire to hear his eldest son fucking his mate. Grown man or not. Call it the tawtute in him.

He’s still a little mortified, even when he makes it back to his own Mauri. Neytiri is sat by the firepit, slow roasting a recent catch. His other kids are nowhere to be found.

“What is it?” she questions as he plops down. Her husband looks a bit shell shocked.

Jake takes a beat, before turning to her. A peculiar look on his face “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be grandparents soon. Like, very soon. Like as soon as possible”

Ah. Her husband and his earthly modesty.

She can't help but laugh at it. After all these years, he still was so easy to fluster. Her sister and Tsu’tey had spent their first Fertility Season under the same roof as the rest of the family. It wasn't odd, or frowned upon.

A part of her wishes Neteyam had done the same so that she could take better care of him and Y/N.

“If the Great Mother wills it, yes” She pats his five fingered hand encouragingly.

“There is no way that girl isn't pregnant right now. Don't you think I’m too young to be a grandpa?”

“No. You are very old now, my love. Look at all of that gray in your hair” Neytiri jests, pointing out the silvery webbing that had started to sprout from Jakes dreads.

“Skxawng!” He swats at her and the two of them break into giggles as he takes out his knife and starts to cut the vegetables, helps her prepare dinner.

After all of the years, their rapport is easy. They move in harmony. She is very excited that her eldest son has finally found someone to build with. He had been so picky, she was worried he might end up an eternal bachelor, forever fated to take care of his siblings.

Neteyam deserved so much more than that.

“I miss having a prrnen(baby) around. Tuk has grown so fast. My time to birth children has come and gone, I am ready for grandchildren. Though I wish they could be raised in the forest” Neytiri shoots her husband a look “They will need us to guide them through it. To protect them. Family is our fortress, that is what you say. Our family is growing, Ma Jake”

Neytiri had been younger than her son is now when she birthed him.

She had no doubts that he was capable of raising a family. He’d helped them raise theirs. Always more of a parental figure than a sibling. She’s factual as she reminds her husband. He’ll be a fun grandpa, he decides. Paw Paw.

He gets a blank confused stare in response. Tuk comes running in, talking a mile a minute, before Neytiri can question Jake about what a “pah-pah” is.

Neytiri prays to the great mother before she goes to sleep that night. For healthy pregnancies and easy deliveries. For her eldest son and his mate’s happiness.

That Fertility Season had been good to them.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Welp, welp, welppppp. I finally finished it. I want you guys to know how hard it was to get this finished. The amount of WIPS that sit unfinished in my drafts is actually sad.

But this story feels special. The response I have gotten to it has made me happier than I can express.

I'm so grateful to be a part of this fandom. Really. Pandora is such a fin world to escape into and play in and the fact that you guys enjoy reading what I consider self therapy is fucking amazing.

Next chapter will be full of pregnancy and pregnancy talk!!! If that’s triggering at all please just be aware that it’s coming and you can skip it if you’d like.

Also thinking about who’s POV we want to see next. Lo’ak’s maybe?

Again I want to remind you that I write what I want to read. I know that Na’vi don’t really have beds or blankets buttttt- I want them to.

Is there rice on Pandora? I’m not sure. My readers gonna eat some rice though.

Was it necessary for Neteyam to bite the shit out of her to seal the deal? Yup. Cause I wanted him to.

Part Four should be out in the next couple weeks. Thanks for being patient with me!

The taglist for this story is closed buttttt I am really good at linking my posts so just keep an eye on my page/Masterlist for updates!

Til next time babies.

Leave me all the good comments- you may get a teaser faster if you do lol

[dontexpectmuch]

next to you - chris brown ft. justin bieber.

you will always stay by his side, even when one day the sky comes falling down.

***

you two have always dreamed of this moment, picturing any possible scenario of this exact outcome.

jude always told you how far away this dream of his seemed, how winning the champions league is not something everyone can witness. he told you many times that it was one of his biggest dreams ever since he was just a little boy. smiling at you as you laid in his arms, jude promised you to win it one day, not only for himself, but also for you, the one thatt always stayed by his side and helped him get through the toughest times during his career.

i pray to god everyday, that you keep that smile.

those times now feel like a distant dream, a memory that you cherish to visit whenever you think of jude and your past relationship. everything was perfect, the two of you fit together like nothing else.

but you were also young, naīve and insecure. being together with one of the best youngsters, who also happened to be quite handsome came with many difficulties that you did not know about before. jude always tried to remind you of how you were the only one for him, his dream person and the one he would go any length for.

you are my dream, there’s not a thing i won’t do, i’ll give my life up for you. ‘cause you are my dream.

even though you were mentally prepared, the break up still hurt like hell. it was a mutual decision, jude no longer wanted to keep you hurting with all the attention he got due to bis rising popularity. and you could no longer handle all the mean comments made about you inline day by day. silent tears and desperation between your words filled the air as you got up to pack your things you had brought for the weekend. his parents and brother were gone and you wanted to spend some alone time together before he got busy again.

the tension was thick, no one dares to say anything, unsure of what to do next. your heart was beating so loud that your ears started to hurt, you felt hot and cold and your hands were shaking as you put the last piece inside your bag. shouldering it you moved to the front door, looking back one last time before leaving your now ex boyfriend, probably for ever.

jude sat down on the couch in the living room, blankly staring at the floor. he promised you to stay next to you no matter what, and now he feels angry at himself for not keeping this promise. his heart feels like it is being poked by a dagger over and over again. yet it would not pierce through, not granting him any kind of relief from this immense feeling of pain and loss.

i’ll be there when you’re insecure, let you know that you’re always lovely, ‘cause you are the only thing that i got right now.

now it has been a year since the last time he got to hold you, bury his nose in your hair and close his eyes in the comfort of his own bed.

it has been a year full of ups and downs, important decisions and big changes. he finally made his dream come true by signing for real madrid. he played one of his best, if not the best, season of his life and met incredible people and players who helped him improve a lot.

the best part of this year definitely is hearing the final whistle of the match, signaling that he indeed won his very first champions league match against his former club. the cheers around him, from both the fans and his teammates filled his ears as he fell down to his knees, his heart racing against his chest. tears sting his eyes as he slowly realized what actually just had happened. he fulfilled one of his biggest childhood dreams. not only that, but he also was able to do this while his parents and brother were watching him.

you were also there, he knew.

of course you were, you promised him that you would be there for him if he was ever reaching the final. you texted him first, congratulating him when he won the semi-final.

one day, when the sky is fallin’, i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.

he offered you tickets to watch him play, alongside his family like the old times. you wanted to decline, though jude was very stubborn and even told his mother to tell you that you have to accept his offer, which you then did after denise talked to you.

your eyes were following him as he walks towards were you and his family were standing, gold medal adoring his neck, his smile reaching his ears and eyes shining bright. you feel yourself smiling as well, happy for him as if you had one the league yourself.

his family let you know that they are going down to meet him, asking if you wanted to tag along, which you politely declined. you didn’t want to be seen next to him, if you were honest. the past comments about you back then still haunted you at times. you were happy with just watching him enjoy his time, past feelings for him resurfacing.

your eyes meet, he just stands there, his arms hanging by his side as he look at you intensely. you mirrored his gaze, taking in his muscular body. he was still the same jude that you fell for all those years ago, just more mature and handsome. he was still the same jude you dreamed of the past year, the one whose pictures you looked at when you deeply missed his presence in your day.

his gaze softened, and he took a step forward, as if wanting to get closer to you.

nothing will ever come between us, ‘cause i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.

he came to a halt when jobe jumped on him, arms around his neck and shoulders as he congratulated his elder brother. judes gaze went to him, his smile widening even more if that was possible as he returned his brothers hug. his parents also hugged him, the family shared their happiness together on the field.

you smiled at that sight, remembering the times when you were part of their group hugs.

seeing him win was all you wanted, and now that you did, you decide it is finally time for you to leave. you had a long way back home and wanted to go to bed as soon as possible. so, without any further delay, you turn around and leave the stadium, carefully trying not to bump into any cheering fans.

and with your back turned away at the field, you do not see judes desperate eyes following your body, wishing that you were also here to celebrate with him.

i’ll be there, i’ll be there.

——————————————————————

happy for jude! so a cute drabble for you! comments are appreciated 🥹

[ellabsbitch]

tolerate it

pairing: older/modern abby anderson x reader

warnings: angsty angsty shit, cursing, abby kinda sucks

a/n: she has risen🙏🙏 on god i wrote this in like 2ish days because i’ve been obsessed with taylor swifts tolerate it so that’s what this is based off of <3 if it’s bad don’t tell me okay bye enjoy

wc: 4.6k :p

The unopened wine bottle placed in front of you seems to be taunting you at your loneliness, and the fancy glasses you pulled out from the highest shelf collect dust the longer they sit, empty as the day you got them. The dinner you prepared on the plate across from you sits untouched, the steam completely dissipated. You’re met with silence as you finish the last bite of your food, a part of you still hoping to hear the sound of the study door opening. A moment passes as you consider leaving the food out at the table for her but you decide to take it to her yourself. With a careful push on the table, you stand up with your plate in hand and begin putting the dishes you used while cooking into the sink.

The moon glows in the sky during the time you spend cleaning up, the window over the sink giving you the perfect view to see how late it's gotten. A quick glance at the clock above your stove tells you it's half past nine now. You grab the towel off of the hook next to the sink and use it to wipe your hands after loading the dishwasher. Lastly, you put the leftovers from dinner into the fridge and put the wine up in the cabinet along with the empty glasses. Carefully, you grab the full plate of food and make your way over to the intimidating door across from the kitchen. The sound of you knocking fills the otherwise mute home and after you wait a good moment, you think she might be ignoring you.

Just as you go to walk away, you hear a, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. The knob turns as you twist your hand around it, trying to balance the plate of food in your other hand. There Abby sits, hunched over her large dark oak desk, reading what seems to be a thick packet of paperwork she has to go over for a client. Her hair is pulled back into her signature braid, a few loose strands have fallen, outlining her frowning face. She has yet to change out of her work clothes, though she's lost the tie you recognize from gifting it to her on Christmas the year before, seeing it tossed carelessly on the ground next to her desk. You watch as her eyes scan the documents with her head down in concentration, leaving no room for any distractions, including you as you notice she has yet to acknowledge you. After watching her work in silence for a few minutes, you clear your throat in hopes she will finally take note that you are standing there. At the sudden disruption, your favorite pair of eyes flicker up to where you stay standing with a warm smile, holding out the dinner you prepared for her. 

Without a second beat, her eyes fell back down on the papers in front of her, muttering out, “M’not hungry.”  The smile adorning your face falls. A quiet sigh escapes your lips, and you walk to the left of her desk, placing the plate next to the documents that seem to captivate all of her attention. Her eyes stay locked onto the papers, even as you stand near. You see the tie out of your peripheral and you go to grab it, hearing the sound of keyboard keys clicking from beside you. When you look back at her, she's now busy typing away on the laptop she takes from home to work. The silence is deafening, other than the constant clicks of the keyboard.

Trying to fill the quiet void, you ask, “Are we still going to Nora’s tomorrow for dinner?” You receive no response other than the constant typing that you begin to grow tired of. A minute passes of your heavy stare analyzing the way she manages to effortlessly ignore your presence. 

You try again, “Abs?” No answer, once again. The familiar burning in your eyes that you've grown accustomed to these past few weeks start up again but you fight to hold back the tears of frustration from her dismissive behavior. 

“Abby…” you nearly beg once more for her to at least look up at you. 

Suddenly, the constant clattering of her fingertips on the keyboard stops, being replaced by the sound of her sighing dramatically. Her right hand comes up to wipe her face in annoyance before she turns to where you stand at her left. 

“What, y/n? I’m busy.” she says, tiredly looking across your cowering form. Her eyes drop down to where you play with her tie in your hands before she meets your stare. 

“I asked if we are still going to Nora’s for dinner tomorrow,” you quietly say, not wanting to worsen her already bad mood. Her eyes go back to her computer, starting up that annoying typing again. “I’ll take us when I get home from work.” You nod, though you know she isn’t paying attention.

Turning to leave, you pause, “Are you coming to bed soon?” She nods before stopping her typing once again to look up at you, “Don’t wait up.” You sigh, nodding again with a forced smile, leaving her to her work. You carry yourself upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into your sleep clothes. You glance at the dresser she keeps her night clothes in, deciding to lay a pair out for her. The pajamas lay on her side of the bed as you get under the thick duvet you bought with Abby when you first moved in. Even the blanket can’t hide the coldness you feel without having her next to you. The familiar burn returns, not being able to hold back anymore. You silently cry, missing your Abby who used to never let you go to sleep alone. The same Abby who would never miss one of your homemade dinners. Most importantly, your Abby who would never take you for granted. The tears flow until you feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep, the bed still half-full. 

— — — — — 

When you wake up the next morning, you feel as cold as the night before. Wiping the sleep and dried tears from your eyes, you turn to where Abby slept, only to find her side empty. The pair of sleep clothes sits untouched in the spot you left them. You immediately go to her study once you get out of bed, finding her in the same hunched over spot you last saw her in. 

Unlike how you left her, she’s fallen asleep with her head in the palm of her hand, the stack of paperwork as her cushion. You watch as she breathes in and out, though a bit struggled with the way she is bent over her desk. Her hair is as messy as ever, blonde wisps strung across her freckled face. Somehow she manages to make sleeping on a desk the most peaceful sight.

Quietly, you tiptoe your way to her side, just like the night before. You carefully reach over, placing your hand on her shoulder to lightly shake her awake. “Abs… wake up hun,” you whisper out to her, your other hand coming up to comb back the hair from her face. She groans at the intrusion on her sleep before she slowly opens her blue orbs. For a moment, she seems as at peace as she was before you woke her, however it’s gone in a flash and she’s shaking your hands off of her. 

“Fuck, I gotta get ready,” she says, voice still deep from her sleep. You watch her quickly but neatly stuff her paperwork into her work bag and then dart out of the room. Walking after her, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps running upstairs, which you assume means she is going to get ready for work. You decide to make her a quick coffee to help her wake up from what you presume was a long night. The sound of the clock ticking fills the silent kitchen as you wait for the coffee to finish brewing. 

Just as it gets finished, you hear those same heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.

“Abs, wait up!” you say and quickly grab the cup of coffee to give it to her before she leaves. By the time you step out of the kitchen, the front door slams shut with an echo throughout the house. You stand there, facing the front door with a coffee in hand and no one to give it to. 

The walk back to the kitchen is just as gut wrenching as the sound of the front door slamming. Not having the energy to deal with what’s left of your sweet gesture, you leave the full cup of coffee on the counter and go back to divulge in your sorrow in the comfort of your bed. 

— — — — — 

Across the room from you Abby sits at Nora’s living room couch, surrounded by her friends and coworkers. Manny, Owen, and Mel sit on the long couch while Abby and Jessica sit on the smaller couch. She’s laughing at something Jessica tells her. Her eyes are lit up in a way you haven’t seen in weeks. 

You stay standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Nora, your favorite of Abby’s friends. When Abby first brought you around her people, Nora was the most friendly and accepting of you. It always intimidated you, coming to these parties with people who are so much older than you, but Nora always made the time pass a lot better. 

“How have you been?” Nora asks suddenly, eyeing the way your gaze hasn't left Abby and Jessica the whole time you've been there. You part ways with the two on the couch and turn your attention to your kind friend.

“I’ve been good!” you say, mustering up a smile to sell your awful attempt at lying. 

Nora sees right through it. You can tell because she casts a quick glance at Abby and then to you with a look that says ‘seriously?’ Her knowing look has you dropping the eye contact, instead choosing to focus on the way your drink swirls around in the solo cup Nora made for you earlier that night. You can’t accumulate the right words to say, choosing to sigh out instead. All of the sudden, Nora’s pulling you into the kitchen, where no one can hear the two of you. 

“You wanna tell me what’s really been going on? I can tell something is off between you two,” she states with her hand coming up to rest on your shoulder in an attempt to console you. With a shake of your head, you try to laugh it off.

“Nothing is going on, Nora! Abby has been the best and I’m so grateful for everything she has done for me. Sure, she's been busy with work recently but that doesn’t mean we aren’t okay!” you respond, though you’re sure she can see past your semi-lie just as she did before. I mean, it is somewhat true. Abby HAS been extremely busy with work, but you two definitely aren’t okay.

 “Okay…” Nora pauses in thought for a moment, analyzing the smile you’re forcing and what you’ve told her. “Well I’m always here if you ever want to talk about anything, alright?” You nod your head in response, giving her a genuine smile this time. In the living room, you hear a loud commotion of yells and congratulations being thrown around. Nora nods her head in the direction of the sound, signaling you follow her into the living room. When you emerge from the kitchen, you see people surrounding Abby, giving her their congratulations and highfives. But your eyes latch onto the way Jessica is now leaned into Abby’s side, hugging her a little too intimately in your opinion. 

“What’s going on guys?” Nora asks, venturing into the swarm of people. The sound of her voice draws everyone’s attention to her, though, you stay back, watching the scene unfold. 

Manny is the first one to say, “Abby got a big promotion!” Nora is quick to congratulate her like everyone else, and the room erupts into bustling conversation. 

You continued to hang back, a little hurt that Abby didn’t tell you about the promotion, but you cut it up to that she just wanted to wait to tell everyone together. 

That is, until you hear Jessica’s agonizing voice say aloud, “She was so happy when the boss let her know, she came straight to me and told me!” 

The chatter didn’t stop but it felt like your heart did. Your head felt cloudy as you watched Abby smile so big at the people around her, not even noticing you standing there, shocked as ever. Nora turns toward you with her eyes conveying all of the words she can’t say. Without a second thought, you dart toward the bathroom down the hallway.

The door locks behind you, leaving you to try to catch your breath from the ache that resonates in your chest. You haven't realized you've started crying until you see the tears dropping into the sink you’re hunched over. Shaky hands reach up in an attempt at wiping the wetness from under your eyes but it's no use, the tears never ending. You meet your reflection in the mirror, the girl staring back at you not someone you can even recognize anymore. She is a girl who has been reduced to watching the person she loves from the sidelines. The girl who used to be the first person her lover would call with good news, cast to the side. The question is, how much more of this heartache can she bare before she fully breaks?

— — — — — 

The car ride home is silent, no words spoken between the two of you, only the sound of the engine fills the void. You’re turned towards the window, staring out into the stars that glow in the sky. You notice from the corner of your eye that she keeps glancing at you, but she's yet to say a word. By now, the tears from before have dried up, leaving your puffy eyes and smudged mascara in its wake. As the streets pass by, you try to calculate how much longer until you’re home, so you can bundle up in your bed and sleep the night away.

The sound of Abby clearing her throat knocks you out of your thoughts, casting your gaze in her direction. One hand is on the wheel and the other rests on the middle console between you two, she continues to glance back and forth between you and the road, asking, “Did you have fun?”

Your eyes cut back to the window while responding with a “Mhm.” You hear Abby sigh out, now turning into your neighborhood. The sound of your foot tapping fills the car, anticipating getting out of this confined space with her. 

As she pulls into the driveway she says, “Well, are you going to congratulate me on my promotion?” You scoff in return, whipping back to where she sits as she puts the car in park. 

“I’m sure Jessica has done enough congratulating for the both of us,” you reply, getting out of the car with a slam of the door. Not long after, you hear the driver's door slam as well and heavy footsteps walking up to follow you up on the porch. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, with a defensive tone in her words. You shake your head, unlocking the front door, your back still facing her. Once the door is unlocked, you rush inside to remove your shoes at the entryway. 

As you lean down to untie your shoes, a hand is placed on your shoulder, pulling you around to face her. Abby stands with her arms crossed in front of her chest, eyebrow furrowed in accusation, “What are you trying to say?” Yet again, you shake your head in disbelief. 

“You tell me, Abby. I mean, Jessica was the first to know about the big news and you didn’t even bother to tell me before we went to the party,” you gasp out at her ignorance. It’s her turn to shake her head as she reaches up to rub her temple as if what you’re saying is making her head hurt.

“Jessica is one of my closest friends and coworkers, y/n. Of course I told her first,” she sighs out, meeting your intense gaze once again. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull at her words.

“Over your girlfriend of three years?” She looks down at your reply. You scoff once again, “Well I can certainly see what’s been keeping you at work for so long these past few weeks.” 

Something snaps in her at that moment. Her head whips up, the signature braid following suit. You watch at the way her eyebrows furrow even further and her lips come up in a snarl in accordance to the accusation. She walks closer to you, now standing about a foot away so you have to look up to meet the anger she holds in her eyes. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she grits out, losing all composure she previously had. “I work my ass off for you all fucking day and you have the audacity to accuse me of cheating on you? Have you lost your fucking mind?” 

You shrink under her angry gaze, dropping your head to stare at your feet. Your shoe half-untied, and her boot clad feet contrast each other greatly. Suddenly, your trance is disrupted by the snap of her fingers. 

“No,” she mutters, “Fucking look at me.” 

Slowly, you lift your head up to meet her glare, hands beginning to shake. The weight in your chest returns and the cloudiness you felt earlier in your head reappears. You feel the quicken of your heartbeat in your chest at the way she looks at you, no love in sight.

“God forbid I have one night of relaxation with my friends and here you are bitching to me about it,” she says, her hostile tone bringing tears to your eyes. You can’t hide them from her anymore, almost sobbing out. She shakes her head at you with the same glare. 

“Now you’re crying like I’m the bad guy. Jesus fucking christ, y/n,” her voice raises, “You fucking suffocate me, you know that?” The sound of your sobs increases causing her to turn away from you. Her hands run up and down her head, trying to distract herself from the sound of you crying. Your knees feel weak as your hurt grows stronger, falling to the ground. You reach your arms around your knees to pull yourself in a ball, feeling your heart ache worsen and worsen. You watch as Abby paces the room, not saying a word. 

“Abs, I’m sorr-,” you go to apologize but she cuts you off with a raise of her hand in your direction. She shakes her head once again, not meeting your gaze. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she says, staring at the ground. Her braid hangs next to her face and you look on to see her wiping her own tears away. She straightens up after a moment and turns to the door. Grabbing her jacket, she says, “I’m gonna go. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you to wallow away in your pain alone. 

— — — — — 

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your skin. Your chest still aches from the night before and your head feels like it’s pounding. Abby's side of the bed is left untouched once again, no trace of the blonde coming home last night. The sight makes your heart grow heavier but you gather yourself to the bathroom to freshen up from your slumber. 

When you exit the bathroom, you can hear a quiet murmur from outside of the bedroom. You quietly trek to the door and lean into it, delicately pressing your ear to it so that you can hear the conversation. It’s Abby, she's on the phone with someone, you notice. 

“I know the luncheon is a big deal, Jess.” you hear her mumble. “I just have to deal with y/n before I leave.” With that, you dart away from the door as your breath grows heavier. A hand reaches up in an attempt to calm the pounding in your chest, though it does little to help. You’re not surprised that once again she’s choosing a work luncheon, or Jessica for that matter, over you. But you won’t sit around waiting for her to choose you anymore.

Once you’ve made up your mind, you rush to the closet you share with Abby, grabbing your suitcase and bringing it to the bed. You scramble around the room, gathering clothes and other important things, stuffing them without care into the suitcase. Remembering your tooth brush and other bathroom items, you hurry to the bathroom to grab those as well, wanting to be packed up by the time Abby comes to check on you. 

You finish frantically packing your travel bag and emerge from the bathroom to see Abby opening your bedroom door. She notices you standing there and lets out a small smile, analyzing your expression to try to see how you’re doing. 

“Hey sweetheart, you’re awak-” she cuts herself off as she watches you walk with your travel bag to the suitcase that lays open and packed on your shared bed. “W-what are you doing?” Her voice stutters, realizing exactly what you are doing but not wanting to say it.

“I’m leaving,” you state with no room left to argue. You can’t face her like this, knowing that if you did, she would have you falling down to your knees, begging for another chance. 

She laughs out almost like she thinks you’re playing a funny prank on her, but when she sees the stone cold expression painted across your delicate features, she knows it’s not a joke. You hear her slowly make her way to where you’re packing at the side of the bed, her breathing so loud that you can hear it from where you stand. 

“Baby, just let me-,” she goes to say, however you cut her off before she can finish with a raise of your hand, the same way she did to you last night.

“I don’t want to hear it, Abby.” you say, whipping your head to face her. “I’m sure you have more important things to take care of, like that luncheon ‘Jess’ was talking about.” Your words come out harsh but it‘s nothing compared to the way she spoke to you the night before. The look in her eyes shows regret and her own pain that your actions are causing her but you can’t bring yourself  to care as you turn back toward your suitcase to finish zipping it up. You lift the suitcase by the handle and drop it to the floor and begin to walk around her, suitcase in your trail. With each step you take, you hear her exhale shakier than the time before and once you reach the bedroom door, you hear her speak up.

“Can we please just talk about this, baby?” she whispers out to you, your hand pausing on the door. You turn back toward her to find her looking at you with a crestfallen expression, tears now dripping from the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks are stained red, in the way they usually are when she’s anxious from work, but now it’s because of you. You feel yourself begin to nod and you watch as her back straightens for a moment. 

“You know what? Yeah, let’s talk,” you say, turning back toward the door to drag your suitcase down to the living room. The sound of her familiar footsteps follow you, you sitting on the couch and her on the chair next to it. You find yourself in deep thought on what you want to say to her, wanting to show her what she’s put you through.. She sits, watching you quietly, anxiously waiting for you to speak first. Her hands run up and down her muscular thighs in an attempt to calm herself down. When you finally gather your thoughts, you pan back to her. Her eyes immediately lock on to yours, and there is a hopefulness in the way she stares back at you.

“You used to be the person who I could go to with all of my problems and you would find a way to make me feel better about them,” you start, watching as her head drops down to stare at the palms of her hands. “Baby-” she tries but you stop her, “Let me finish.” She looks back up at you, small tears forming in her eyes, but she nods nonetheless. 

“All of my pain from the past went away whenever you were near, but now it’s like I’m begging to just be in a small portion of your life.” you say, feeling the burning from your eyes start up. “I mean, you don’t even talk to me anymore, Abby.”

She shakes her head at the weight of your words. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I’ve been so busy with work and I guess I assumed you were fine.” At her words, she wraps her arms around her body, trying to console herself. You let out a small cry at that, reaching up to wipe your face. 

“Where did you think I was, Abby? When you were out there getting your big promotions and new clients, I was here, waiting for you to come home,” you remind her, tears blurring your vision. She’s now moved to holding her head in her hands, crying harder than before. “I’ve made you my everything, I cook your favorite meals and I clean up after you, but you make me feel like I’m taking up too much space. And when I do try to talk to you, you act as if I’m wasting your time.”

Once again, she's frantically shaking her head and turning her attention back to you. “No, baby, you are never a waste of time and I love when you’re around.” You watch as she falls down on her knees in front of you, begging for you to believe her. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean anything I said last night.”

“You take my love for granted, Abby.” you whisper to her, trying to hold back the sobs that are waiting to be unleashed. “I can’t live like this anymore. Not when it feels like you just tolerate my love for you.” 

She cries harder as you stand up from your seat on the couch and grab your suitcase. The walk to the front door is hard, trying to block out the sobs from behind you. You pause once you’ve made it and turn back towards her, finding her standing up in the same spot, watching you leave. 

You give one last request, “I love you so much, Abby, but until you prove to me that you appreciate me and want me in your life, I won’t be back.” Despite the tears streaming down your face, your expression remains firm and you mean every word you say. You watch as she nods her head and makes her way over to you. With a gentle touch, she lifts her strong hands to cup your face, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head. She tilts your head up to face her blue orbs, glistening with tears, and she says, “I promise I won’t stop until I have you back.”

You nod up at her as she releases her hold on your head, and you turn back to open the door. The crisp breeze hits you as soon as you step outside with your baggage and you turn back one last time.

“Goodbye, Abby.” you say, looking at the tears continuously pouring down her freckled cheeks. Her lips pick up in a small, sad smile as she says, “I’ll see you soon, y/n.” 

— — — — —

a/n: i hope you enjoyed even tho it’s sad lmao but i’m thinking about writing a part two where abby tries to get her back (or maybe something else :0) lmk if y’all liked it 🤞

[ytmanzwhore]

Chase It - 2

read chapter one here

summary: nellie meets the so called tornado wrangler

warnings: none

AN: tagging my one friend who asked to be notified :) also if these seem split up weird it's because they're written for wattpad so some chapters may seem like abrupt endings. lemme know your thoughts! @stillhere197

Javi and Kate had somehow gotten the biggest burst of luck Nellie had seen in her nursing career, somehow convincing Nellie's supervisor to give her three shifts off after her next shift, so she could come with them on their chase. Nellie grumbled under her breath for a bit in the back of the car as they drove to meet up with the rest of Javi's team. 

"This is fancy as hell," Nellie said under her breath as she looked at the car she was sitting in, and all the new gear. "Javi how are you getting all this capital?"

"Storm Par has investors,"  he said simply as the three of them pulled up to a familiar sight Nellie had grown up on. A old school truck stop with small groups of people preparing to go chase some storms. As Javi pulled to a stop, Nellie's chest got a little tight as she felt for the first time what she was actually doing today. She was chasing for the first time in five years. 

The slam of doors knocked her from her stupor, and she jumped out of the car and followed Kate and Javi to a group of men. "Alright team," Javi gathered the group. "You guys have all heard me talk about Kate, and Nellie. The two of them have some of the best instincts I know, they're the best. And yall won't miss working with a better team. We've got PhDs from NASA, FEMA, NWS."

"And no women," Nellie said with a head tilt as Javi stumbled over his sentence.

"Well, my partner here went to MIT, not Muskogee State," Javi clapped the tall brunette on the shoulder. "But he makes up for it with his beautiful personality." Scott deapanned them with a smile.

"Likely," Nellie murmured as she turned her gaze away from the men and towards the skies. Javi and Scott's next words were cut off by a red truck coming screeching in the lot with the windows down and the music blaring. The amateurs in the lot began to frenzy as the trucks passed, and Nellie raised a brow as a brunette man leaned out of the window with a camera. 

"Are they filming?" Nellie asked in surprise as the man taunted Scott and the PhD's with a grin as he drove by. 

"Who are they?" Kate asked.

"Chasers out of Arkansas," Javi informed them with a frown. 

"Hillbillies with a youtube channel," Scott said. And with that, the group watched as the truck was thrown into park and a crowd formed as a big Stetson came through the open door and a tall blonde stood on the running boards.

"How you feeling Ty?" the camera man turned the lens to the blonde. 

"Feeling good Boone," the man smirked cockily. "And if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" the crowd yelled back.

"I said, if you feel it?"

"Chase it!" Nellie burst into laughter as she watched the spectacle in front of her.

"That's Tyler Owens," Javi told the girls as Nellie kept giggling, making eye contact with the blonde man, Tyler. Feeling his stare even through his dark sunglasses as he tipped his hat. She tipped her imaginary Stetson right back at him as Javi carried on. "Calls himself a Tornado Wrangler."

"A tornado what?" Nellie questioned as she watched as their van was opened and merch began to flow. "This is hysterical."

Javi pulled up a tablet, pulling some data for Kate to look at. Nellie let the blonde take the data, while she began walking to the open area next to the stop. Nellie heard Javi shoo off the crowd while she began to look at the sky. Looking East then West, taking a deep breath and getting that tingly feeling she hadn't let herself give into in five years. 

She leaned down to the grass, grabbing a dandelion for her and Kate, letting the petals fall as they looked at the sky. 

"You know I used to do that," Tyler said as he approached the two newcomers, talking to both of them but unable to keep his eyes off the petite red head who he was captivated by. "Compare the wind direction to cloud movement. Get a feel for the shear. Sometimes the old ways are better than the new."

Tyler watched both of them, carrying on when he didn't get a response. "Where yall in from?"

"New York," Kate said crisply, and Nellie chose not to answer. 

"You're a long way from home City Girls," Tyler smirked, watching Nellie in confusion as she snickered. "So yall working with Storm Par?"

"Tyler," they were interruppted by a British man approaching them. "Do we know which storm we're chasing yet?"

"Well, why don't we ask these two-" Tyler paused, fishing for their names. 

"Nellie," the red head smiled kindly as she reached out to shake the Brit's hand. "This is Kate. We're your city girls."

"Hi Nellie," Tyler smirked. "Kate. I'm Tyler."

"Oh we couldn't miss that, with the t shirts, it's a little hard," Nellie smiled sweetly as Kate grinned. 

"I'm Ben, a reporter," the Brit stuck his hand out to Kate. "I'm writing a piece on american storm chasing and Tyler's letting me ride along with him."

"Ben just had to promise to only write good things about me," Tyler grinned. 

"Good luck with that," Kate said and turned around.

"Might have to dig deep Ben," Nellie giggled as she turned on the heel of her boot.

"Hold on," Tyler called out. "You didn't say where we're going. If we go West we double our chances. East? High risk, high reward."

"Go for the reward," Kate advised as Nellie shook her head and kept walking. "Wouldn't want Ben to think you're boring."

"Boring's not usually a problem for me," Tyler said as Kate followed Nellie.

"But humility apparently is!" Nellie called over her shoulder, offering Tyler and Ben a sweet smile and a finger wave as she approached Javi and Scott.

"We're going West," Nellie said to the boys, Kate catching up with her. 

"Cell to the East has better numbers," Scott protested.

"Doesn't feel right," Kate shook her head. 

"Yeah, cap's too strong," Nellie agreed. "Won't ever break." Scott sighed as Javi rallied the troops and everyone got back in the trucks.