#i did it in gdocs and it's like

[charaznablescanontoyota]

tfw you get pulled out of the mirror dimension into the real world and see your double(s) immediately wheel two mirror cops without hesitation and then they just leave you behind and you are like uhhhhh maybe lets not talk about this. ever.

[anextravagantliar]

Maybe I’ll finish my open ended question meme today

[articianne]

-

[rosencrantzsguildenstern]

signed up for ellipsus but i regret it its too fancy i was born for 800 google docs with no folders

[partyinthemysterymachine]

.. oh.

[strained smile]

[starstruckodysseys]

you could be happy too… losing my mind over my own writing

[yangjeongin]

wrote over 6000 words in the last 24 hours shoutout to my new adhd med thank u queen

[dromexa]

do u ever go into your drafts after a reeeeeeeeeeealllly long time not doing any writing and see something you completely forgot about an d you think holy shit that was an amazing idea why did i never finish that

[nosyp]

Crowned by Desire

Chapter 5

A/N = I've let this sit in my gdocs for a while... I finished it😁

Warnings = SMUT🔞 (gangbang but not really), toxic behaviour, dark, yandere, etc etc

Pairings = Greek Gods x fem! reader (I'm sorry... I might make a male reader one?)

Summary = Percy and you trek on forward to continue in your attempt to escape. It doesn't end well… mostly for you.

Word count = 2k words

Taglist = @caged-birdies-blog, @cheese10001

Read belooww

“Holy shit, what was that Percy?!” you half-whispered and screamed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help you.” he whispers, voice just as fiery as yours.

 “Helping? You’re going to get me in more trouble if you’re not careful!” you scold him like an older sister. Well, you’re technically his stepmom if you think about it.

“Alright, whatever. Let’s just keep going!” his annoyed voice says.

Slowly by slowly, you two crawl on the cold, ceramic ceiling tiles. Your hands were bruised and wounds were all over your hands from the sharp edges of the tiles. But you didn’t care. As long as you got to be free, nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter if you had to get injured, a few cuts on your hands were nothing. 

You two trek on forward, looking for a safe way down. From the view in front of you, you’d probably predict that it was around 1 or 2 AM in the morning. The sky was dark & gloomy, dusty grey clouds scattered through the sky.

“Hey,” you call Percy. “How do we get down? We’re on the second floor,”

“With these,” he says proudly as he pulls out a pair of winged shoes.

“What are those…” you ask.

“They can fly, c’mon. I’ll show you,”

Percy puts the shoes on, wings starting to come into life as his foot goes inside. A minute flash of magic is seen on the shoe, letting Percy levitate above the ground.

“Woahhhh!” you stare in amazement.

The teenage boy goes down with the pair of shoes and softly lands onto the luscious ground beneath. And you watch as the magical footwear flies back up towards you.

“We’re so close! C’mon!” Percy cheers you on.   

You hesitated for a moment, staring at the winged shoes as they hovered in front of you. Could you really trust these things? What if they just broke mid-air, and sent you plummeting to your death? Then again, dying might be better than staying in that god-forsaken palace.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be scared! We have to go!” Percy whisper-shouted from below.

“Shut up,” you muttered, reaching for the shoes and slipping them on. 

The moment your feet went inside, a strange sensation ran through your legs, it was like your body suddenly weighed nothing. The wings twitched, then flapped, and before you could even brace yourself, it lifted you off the ground.

“Whoa— whoa— !” You flailed your arms around in panic, nearly losing your balance as you hovered above the edge of the building.

“Relax, just lean forward a little,” Percy called, arms outstretched like he was ready to catch you if things went south.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself before tilting forward just a bit to let it work… and suddenly, you were gliding in the air. The wind rushed past your face, cool and freeing, so wildly different from the suffocating air of the palace. Your heart pounded against your chest, but for the first time in a while, it wasn’t from fear.

You reached the ground, stumbling slightly as you landed, but Percy caught your arm before you could fall.

“We did it,” you breathed, glancing up at the palace looming above. You half expected alarms to start blaring, for divine wrath to strike you down for even daring to leave. But the night remained still.

“Yeah,” Percy grinned. “Now we run.”

And you did. Neither of you looked back.

—

It had been a few hours since you two started running, and you had no idea where you were nor what time it was. All you saw was arrays of trees before you, covering anything and everything, only a dark sky seen above.

“Hey… so uhm, do you actually have a plan?” you decide to ask. Honestly, you’re the dumb one for trusting a teenage boy.

“N-no…” the words came out of his mouth and it felt like your world shattered.

No, you couldn’t blame a minor but then it was also his fault for giving false hope. But on that pretense, everything worked out well for the boy right? It should work out fine for you too.

“You’re kidding,” you deadpanned, stopping in your tracks.

Percy winced. “Look, I just— I got you out, didn’t I? That was the hard part.”

“Oh, yeah, totally. The hard part was escaping literal gods. Not the fact that they can track us down at any second and drag me right back.” You threw your hands in the air. “Fantastic plan, seaweed brain.”

“Hey, don’t call me that—”

“Then have a plan next time!” you snapped. You could feel the panic creeping in, your breath coming faster as you glanced at the thick woods surrounding you. The cold night air did nothing to stop the sweat forming at the back of your neck. They’d find you. They’d find you, and when they did—

Percy must’ve noticed your spiraling thoughts because that’s when he grabbed your wrist. “We’ll figure something out,” he said, voice softer and way more comforting now. “There’s a safe house not too far from here. We just gotta keep moving.”

You exhaled, forcing yourself to nod. Keep moving. Right.

Together, you pushed forward through the woods, your steps quick but careful. Every snapped twig sent a fresh wave of paranoia through you, every gust of wind felt like someone breathing down your neck.

Then, the sound of something— someone— rustling in the trees stopped you dead in your tracks.

Percy went still beside you, hand moving toward Riptide.

A voice, low and amused, echoed through the trees.

“You really thought you could run from us?”

The moment you turned to run, a force slammed into you, knocking the air from your lungs. You hit the ground hard, dirt and leaves sticking to your skin as you struggled, but it was useless. Their hands were way too strong, too unyielding. They grabbed at your wrists, yanking them behind your back. Cold metal wrapped around them, clicking into place. Shackles. Again.

“Really now?” A familiar voice sighed above you. “You’d think after the millionth time, you’d learn. Mortals really are stupid.”

A firm grip pulled you up to your knees, and as your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with Apollo. He crouched before you, golden eyes burning like the damn sun. Except this wasn’t his usual, playful warmth— no, this was blazing anger barely masked behind his lazy smirk.

“Bringing you back is starting to get exhausting, little dove,” he said, voice honeyed with amusement, but the sharp edge beneath it made you shiver. “You keep running, and we keep having to chase you. Do you have any idea how tiring that is?”

Behind him, you caught glimpses of the others. Artemis stood with her arms crossed, eyes colder than the night air. Hermes was nearby, shaking his head like a disappointed older brother. Even Hades was here this time, his presence heavier than a storm cloud, gaze unreadable as he loomed over you.

Percy was nowhere to be seen. They must’ve separated you two… again.

Ares scoffed, stepping closer. “If you want a fight, sweetheart, at least win for once.” His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up. “Pathetic.” he says as he pushes your head away with one swift flick of his wrist.

You jerked your head away, glaring. “If you hate chasing me so much, let me go.”

A sharp laugh cut through the air. Hera. She approached with the slow grace of a queen, swirling wine in a glass as if this was all some casual entertainment for her.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, crouching to your level. “You are ours. Why would we ever let you go?”

Your stomach twisted as she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, her touch feather-light but suffocating.

“This little rebellion of yours is getting boring,” Hermes added, sighing dramatically. “You don’t even make it fun anymore.”

You gritted your teeth, yanking at the chains around your wrists. “Go to hell.”

Apollo only chuckled. “Been there, babe. Hades wasn’t a fan.”

The god in question shot him a look before returning his attention to you. “This needs to end.”

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, Hera spoke again, her voice softer this time.

“We’ve been patient with you.” Her fingers trailed down your cheek, almost gentle. “But patience has limits, my love.”

Your breath hitched as her nails lightly scraped against your skin, her tone shifting into something darker, something dangerous.

“I think it’s time,” she murmured, tilting her head, “that we teach you what happens when our little dove forgets her place.”

—

Okay, by “lesson”, you didn't expect to be shackled to a bed and… for your clothes to be torn away, leaving you naked in front of their eyes.

It wasn’t your first time being forced like this, but it was your first time doing it with multiple of them.

“No! No! Wait, please can we rethink this?” you ask as you shuffle roughly against the metal restraints.

“Rethink? Oh honey, we’re done rethinking it and this is our final decision.” Hera’s voice speaks up.

You opened your mouth wanting to argue back, but instead those arguments were quickly muffled once Apollo’s lips crashed yours. His tongue was swirling inside of your mouth, desperately wanting to taste you. 

“MMFFF!” You let out a muffled protest, thrashing against the restraints.

Apollo didn’t care though. If anything, your resistance only seemed to excite him more. His lips moved hungrily against yours, tongue sweeping through your mouth as if he could devour you whole. His hands cupped your face, firm yet possessive, keeping you locked in place as he deepened the kiss.

The others watched, their gazes heavy with amusement and something darker. You tried to turn your head away, but Apollo chased after your lips, refusing to let you escape even for a second.

“You still fight,” Zeus mused, arms crossed as he leaned back lazily. “How adorable.”

“Give her time,” Aphrodite cooed, tilting her head as she observed you with an almost pleased expression. “She’ll learn to submit. They always do.”

Apollo finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips as he gazed down at you, his golden eyes burning with desire. He swiped a thumb across your lower lip, smirking when you flinched.

“You taste so much better than before, is it because of the situation?” he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction. “It almost makes me want to keep you all to myself.”

A sharp chuckle came from Ares. “As if we’d let that happen.”

Your breath came in shallow pants, your mind spinning from the force of the kiss. Every part of you screamed to resist, to push back, to fight… but the gods around you weren’t just powerful. They were patient. And that was far, far more terrifying.

You barely had time to re-catch your composure before you felt a hard cock being pressed against your slit. You look downwards to see Apollo excitedly rubbing his hot, pink tip against your glistening folds. 

Slowly, and painfully, he slid it inside you. You squirmed against the shackles on your wrists as the friction started to become unbearable. You weren’t lubed at all, it was dry and rough and—

“F-fuck…!”. Apollo roughly pushed his whole member inside you unexpectedly, earning a loud shriek from you.

As Apollo claimed you in front of them, the air in the room grew thick with something possessive, territorial. The other gods watched, their expressions ranging from dark amusement to barely restrained jealousy.

Zeus leaned back in his chair, fingers messing with the bulge around his pants as gaze bore into you, intense and heavy. He was a king used to getting what he wanted, and right now, he was watching something he believed belonged to him.

You closed your eyes in desperation, trying to block out the reality of the situation. Then, you felt someone grab your chin… and something pressing against your lips. 

You open your eyes to see who it is. It’s Hermes.

“Open up,” he says as he glared down towards you, practically towering over you.

And on command, you do. 

This is going to be a long night… or nights.

[epersonae]

You can also change your default style in Google Docs so that paragraphs automatically have extra space -

Format > Line & paragraph spacing > Add space after paragraph

Format > Paragraph styles > Normal text > Update 'Normal text' to match

Format > Paragraph styles > Options > Save as my default styles

(If you use Word, there's a similar set of settings, though the exact names and menus are a little different.)

Hi! Sometimes it can be hard to read a fic where the author puts two spaces in between paragraphs, as opposed to a single space/line break (not sure what to call it!) Is it possible to add any code to my site skin that would make paragraphs have the standard single-line space? Thanks so much!

Another anon asked, "In the site skins poll there was an option that included forcing spaces between paragraphs, how would I go about doing that?"

Most of the items in that poll are explained in this work I posted on AO3 called Useful CSS for Readers.

You can specify the spacing between paragraphs to your liking with this CSS

workskin p { margin: 10px; padding: 10px }

Just adjust those numbers to the size that works for you.

Note: this might not work on additional blank lines, depending on the HTML being used by the author.

As always, people who know more CSS than I do, please feel free to offer up better code 😆

[castielscaplan]

Right Here With You (tomas Vrbada)

Summary: Crashing in some safehouse after a mission with Tomas brought you more peace than you ever though.

WC: 612

Warnings: tomas being a sap, fluff, cuddly tomas

Read on ao3!

A/N: inspired by my Gdocs prompt list with over 5K prompts!

--

It had been a long day—another mission gone sideways, another scrape with death. You were both bruised, exhausted, but breathing. And that was enough.

Tomas was the first to collapse onto the couch in your shared safehouse, his usually graceful movements traded for sluggish limbs and heavy sighs. You followed soon after, curling beside him without a word, the silence between you familiar and safe.

He had one arm draped over his eyes, the other stretched across the back of the couch. You tucked yourself into his side, careful of the cut on his ribs but refusing to leave any space between you. Slowly, his arm dropped to wrap around your shoulder instead, tugging you in closer.

You didn’t even realize you’d started to doze until you felt him shift, his breath brushing against the top of your head.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “I’m staying right here forever.”

You smiled against his chest, heart aching in the best way. “Forever, huh?”

He gave a quiet hum. “Mm-hmm. Warmth is rare. Peace is rare. But you… you make me feel both.”

You tilted your head up just enough to see him blink down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. The killer, the shadow, the revenant—all gone. Just Tomas.

“You’re not just staying because I’m warm,” you teased gently.

“No,” he admitted. “I’m staying because this… you… feel like something I never thought I’d have again.”

He closed his eyes again, arms tightening around you just slightly. “So yeah. Right here. Forever.”

And you didn’t need to say a word after that. You just stayed—his warmth, his peace, his forever.

--

The morning sun bled through the blinds, pale and soft. It draped across Tomas’s back, outlining the quiet strength of his frame as he stood by the small kitchen counter, making tea like it was a mission he had to survive.

You padded in barefoot, blanket still around your shoulders, hair a mess. He turned when he heard you, gaze flickering over you quickly—lingering, then retreating, like always.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, voice low but casual.

You raised an eyebrow, sliding onto a stool at the counter. “Mm, yeah. Especially once you wrapped around me like a possessive space heater.”

He froze for just a second, fingers tightening on the kettle.

“I don’t recall doing that.”

“Oh?” You leaned forward, a slow smirk spreading across your face. “You also don’t recall whispering, ‘You’re warm. I’m staying right here forever.’?”

His shoulders stiffened. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

You snorted. “Tomas. Come on. I have witness-level memory of you being a total sap.”

He sighed, finally turning to face you—cheeks just the faintest shade warmer than usual.

“I was tired.”

“Mhm. And cuddly.”

“…It was cold.”

You smiled into your tea as he handed you a mug, avoiding your eyes.

“You don’t have to pretend it didn’t mean anything,” you said softly, catching him off guard. “Because it did. To me, at least.”

He looked at you then—really looked. And something shifted in his expression, something that softened the walls he always kept up.

“I meant it,” he said quietly. “Every word. I just… I’m not used to this. To you. To being held without fearing I’ll vanish when I wake up.”

You set your mug down, stepping closer, slipping your arms around his waist.

“Then let’s make a deal,” you whispered. “You don’t vanish. And I won’t let go.”

He exhaled like you’d pulled the breath right from his lungs, arms slowly wrapping around you in return.

“…You’re warm,” he murmured again, barely audible.

You smiled against his chest.

“Forever, Tomas.”

[clarenmac]

Did you say 👀 👀 landoscar body worship??? Cause if so I am SAT

well! ask and you shall receive...

decided to not keep it locked up in the gdoc.

for context: i took a nap after miami gp, saw these photos of lando, and wrote this. it's not necessarily set around miami, but make of it what you will.

✨find under the cut✨

landoscar body worship

2.1k words

mature(?)

an exercise and exploration into love, devotion, and surrender (whilst in the face of messy, fraught and ambiguous feelings).

(a warning/heads up... brief mentions of touching and (almost) kissing feet. but it's more about the emotional and physical surrender of touching someone—allowing someone to touch—a place of complete vulnerability. as opposed to just like... a foot thing. lmao)

***

It’s the strip of exposed skin between the band of his joggers and his shirt. Right where the fabric has ridden up, soft and slack from the stretch of his arms above his head. It slips across him easily. Leaves him bare, like an invitation.

It’s there, that strip, where Oscar can’t stop looking. 

Lando makes a sound. Not quite a groan, not quite a sigh. Just something small. Hurt.

Something sensitive. 

It’s his back, Oscar thinks. Tight and sore. Muscles bunched at the base of his spine, knots braided high across his shoulders.

He watches Lando’s fingers curl into the pillow above his head, white-knuckled. Watches the stretch go deeper, the arch in his back pull sharper, exposing more skin—dark, warm, soft. A line that Oscar could trace with one finger.

Lando’s face is twisted to the side, trying to bury himself in the sheets. Almost mouthing at them. He’s drawn tight there too—his face—pain etched into all his fine lines. 

Nothing to do with his back at all. 

Oscar stands at the foot of the bed, useless. He listens to Lando’s neck crack, the sharp crunch of it loud in the still of the room, and flinches.

“Hey,” he says, soft. Careful. 

Lando doesn’t react. Like Oscar’s not there at all. But he is—Lando invited him in. Asked for it, and said nothing. Just reached out in the hallway—closed the gap with a hooked finger in the sleeve of Oscar’s shirt. Just enough to pull. Just enough to close the metre between their rooms, that impossible distance, lined in ugly carpet and harsh fluorescent light.

A distance Oscar couldn’t cross without that tug.

But he followed. Crossed it. 

Of course he did.

Oscar’s the one that reaches for him now; reaches for the only part of Lando he can touch without disrupting the fragile shape of him: his ankle. He closes his fingers gently around the bone, his thumb brushing across the skin there. 

Lando doesn’t react. Not really. But there’s a flicker—his eyelids twitch, a subtle shift beneath them. Then the faint crease between his brows. Small, but sharp. A line that wasn’t there before—one Oscar wants to touch. To smooth.

Wonders how he can, when he’s the reason for it. For all of them. 

Maybe. 

He isn’t sure if that’s right. Because he can’t read Lando when he’s like this—withdrawn, wound tight. Like he wants to push Oscar away. Can’t stand him. But—

He reached for him. Pulled him in close. 

The way he keeps reaching for him, over and over, like Oscar’s the only thing that’s helping.

Oscar can’t make sense of it. But he wants it. Realises he’s sort of desperate for it—to not be pushed away. To be allowed in.

He puts a knee on the end of the bed, leans forward, but doesn’t climb on. He balances his weight on Lando—on that gentle-gentle hand still resting at his ankle. Squeezes tighter, just for a second, before brushing it up along his calf. He pushes Lando’s joggers with it, inching them higher and exposing more of that skin. 

Soft. Hair coarse. Something dangerous.

Lando says nothing.

Says everything, when he parts his legs.

Only slightly—barely—but Oscar feels the space he creates. The space he makes. Just for him.

Only for him.

Oscar breathes. Watches his face. He wants to crawl over him, press him down into the bed—cover him so completely, so tightly, that he can’t drift away inside his own head.

He doesn’t. 

He will, but not yet.

Instead, he lifts Lando’s leg to his chest. Pulls gently at his shin until it folds him in, like he’s trying to hug him there.

Lando lets it happen. Eyes closed and loose for it.

When Oscar closes his hand around Lando’s socked foot, Lando twitches. Surprised. Sensitive. 

Oscar presses his thumb into the arch—right where he knows Lando will be tight.

He gets the reaction he was hoping for. And shit. He just wanted a reaction—fucking anything—‘cause when Lando grunts, when his eyelids flutter, Oscar feels something start to untangle in the space between his ribs. Something tight finally letting go.

He wants to do the same for Lando.

So he does it again. Pushes. Digs in. Thinks he could stay just like this—get up on the bed and put Lando’s feet in his lap. Just to keep him grunting. Keep him breathing. Keep him here.

He pulls off Lando’s sock, then the other, smiling when he sees the curl of Lando’s toes. Has to shake his head at that—something embarrassing licking hot and high near his neck. Probably something dangerously wrong with him, but maybe there always has been.

And when Lando sighs—when he presses his feet into Oscar’s hands, something loosening in his face—Oscar thinks maybe there’s something dangerously wrong with both of them.

Hopes.

(Knows.)

Oscar closes his eyes, bringing Lando’s leg up near his shoulder, right by his face. He breathes. Tries not to shudder as he presses his nose to Lando’s calf, his ankle. Inhales deep. His mouth grazes over skin—barely, lightly—and he can’t see it, but he hears it: that sound at the back of Lando’s throat.

Oscar holds his leg like it’s delicate. Like if he’s not gentle enough, the moment will crack and disappear.

But Lando’s not delicate. Not gentle. He doesn’t need Oscar to treat him like this. He doesn’t need to be coddled, cradled like glass.

But Oscar wants to.

He wants to take Lando in his hands and shatter him—carefully, deliberately. Just so he can help put him back together.

If that’s what Lando needs.

When Oscar closes his mouth over the side of Lando’s ankle, it’s dangerously close to his heel. Almost at the sole of his foot.

He hears the way Lando breathes for it—feels the tremor that follows.

Oscar knows what it means, touching him here. Like this. Knows it isn’t about the obvious strangeness, isn’t about the easy joke—feet, mate? seriously?—isn’t about being a fucking freak, or whatever the fuck Lando’s going to say later.

It’s about touching him where he’s vulnerable.

It’s about being allowed to.

Oscar lets himself move further up the bed, kneeling now in the space between Lando’s parted thighs. He runs his lips along the skin of his leg—up the shin, the calf—until he meets the bunched material of his joggers near his knee.

He kisses him there. Right in that soft, dangerous spot below the kneecap. And when a hand curls around his wrist, Oscar flinches—so hard that his grip on Lando’s leg turns impossibly tight.

Lando doesn’t flinch in return. Doesn’t even move. Just holds Oscar steady.

Oscar blinks, lands on the shape of Lando’s hand around his wrist, and swallows. It always stills him—how Lando’s fingers overlap when they curl around him like that.

He glances up, still half-hiding in the space behind Lando’s knee, and the breath that leaves him is sharp when he realises—sees—

Lando’s eyes are open. Hazy. Half-lidded.

But open.

And looking directly at him.

Oscar doesn’t say anything. Lando doesn’t either. But Oscar feels the weight of it—what he’s doing—shouting between them, loud and heavy.

Lando’s thumb presses firmly to his pulse, and Oscar wonders if he can feel it. Feel how it’s steady. Calm. Certain.

Hopes he can.

Hopes Lando knows what this means to him—that he’s not afraid to be here. That he wants to be.

Oscar kisses him again, squeezes his calf, and Lando sighs.

“Oscar.”

Oscar blinks. He hadn’t expected to hear his own name. To hear anything at all. Didn’t expect to hear it… like that.

“Yeah?” he says. Asks. He doesn’t know what he’s asking, only that now Lando’s speaking, he doesn’t want it to stop.

Even if all Lando says is his name (over and over and—) that would be enough.

Lando doesn’t respond. Just blinks at him, slow and drowsy, like he’s working something out. He tugs at Oscar’s wrist, the way he tugged at his sleeve in the hallway, and Oscar hears it again for what it is.

An invitation.

He runs a hand down Lando’s thigh, gentle, until he can hold him to his hip. Keeps him close. Doesn’t want to let this part of him go. 

He plants his other hand beside Lando’s head, and leans in. Slowly. Finds that holy, granted space between Lando’s legs, and lets himself sink into it. 

Like kneeling.

Like absolution. 

It’s the way Lando touches his waist. His neck. The way he reaches for him, sighing when Oscar’s weight settles on his chest and pushes him into the bed. The way Oscar can see his lashes, the red-rimmed edges of his eyes—vaguely devastating from this close.

Oscar revels in the heat of him.

He doesn’t react when he feels the heavy, half-hard press of Lando’s cock, almost against his own. He’s hard too, or nearly—just a dull, low thrum. Easy to ignore.

Because this isn’t about sex. Not in the way Oscar’s known it.

It’s something else. Something just as exposing. Maybe more.

Still—

It never won’t get to him. The knowledge—the reality—that Lando wants him too. Keeps wanting him. Despite everything.

Lando’s eyes track across Oscar’s face, that little frown still tucked between his brows. He settles on Oscar’s mouth, where Oscar knows his lips are cracked. Dry. He licks at them—an unconscious habit, usually reserved for Lando.

He can feel Lando’s hand at his throat. Not squeezing—just holding. A thumb brushing the tense line of a tendon too tight.

Lando sighs and Oscar kisses his jaw. Closes his mouth over Lando’s throat, just to feel him swallow—mirroring the way Lando holds him. Like they’re keeping each other there. Anchored. Alive. 

I’ve got you. 

There’s so much Oscar wants to say. All the fucking time, really. Not just here. But he just—can’t. Can’t because he’s never going to get it right. Never going to look at Lando’s face and find a perfect, tidy way to explain it all. Wouldn’t be enough. And—shit. It’s not even that. Lando doesn’t need a speech, Oscar’s pretty sure he wouldn’t want one, but it doesn’t change the way Oscar feels. 

What he wants Lando to understand.

He licks at Lando’s pulse. Bites him there. Hides in that space. Pushes at his shirt, where it’s ridden high up his middle. Keeps pushing until it’s bunched under his arms, tight across his chest.

Oscar drags himself down—graceless, probably. Awkward. But finesse isn’t the point. He just has to touch. To hold. To breathe Lando in, so that maybe Lando will understand.

Lando lets him. Easy. Fingers tangled in Oscar’s hair and pulls.

It’s not sex—but still, Oscar moans. Can’t help it. A thank you.

“Oscar,” Lando says again. 

Oscar hears what’s beneath it. 

You don’t have to. 

“Let me,” Oscar says out loud. 

Lando’s grip in his hair tightens.

Oscar settles, lowers himself to Lando’s chest. Doesn’t hesitate, just breathes. Presses his mouth to Lando’s sternum and feels the bone there. Kisses him there—again and again—until salt tastes like spit, until spit tastes like nothing at all. Just Lando.

He feels the rise and fall of Lando’s chest against his face. Breathing deep. Heavy. Letting himself feel it. Take it.

“You’re good,” Oscar hears himself say. Doesn't really know why he says it.

Repeats it. “You’re good.”

Something moves through Lando’s chest—wracks through it—and Oscar feels it.

He doesn’t want to undo Lando. Doesn’t want to hurt him. That’s the whole point.

He doesn’t want this to bruise.

Oscar lifts his head, rests his chin on Lando’s torso. Lando’s head had been thrown back, eyes shut—but he blinks up fast when he feels Oscar pause.

They look at each other. Again. Just like before. And Oscar sees the way Lando’s cracking. Spilling out all over the edges.

“Lando…” he says softly. Tries not to frown. Starts to say more, but—

“Don’t stop,” Lando cuts in. Firm. Clear.

Oscar drops his forehead to Lando’s skin. Wet and hot. Clutches a fistful of his shirt, closes his eyes, and sighs. 

And kisses him again.

His collarbone. His shoulder. His chest. His ribs. Almost at his armpit. The shape of him.

He could live here, Oscar realises. Make a home in this space Lando’s offered him. In the space Lando wants—needs—him to be.

A space that feels like surrender.

Like devotion.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it.

Being with Lando Norris—loving him—is devotion. Surrender, in its highest, most brutal form.

And when Lando’s legs part wider, thumbs brushing reverently at Oscar’s temples, Oscar thinks—

Surrender comes in many forms. Starting with a mirror. 

[diamjem]

braver than me

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian is a coward. lucky for him, she’s not.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, pining, no use of y/n, sebastian is a coward

a/n: there’s just something about writing sebastian being hopelessly in love. like yes yes pls brain more!! i think it’s all the angst i’ve piled up as wips in my gdocs. enjoy n have a good day my loves!

[ao3] [wattpad]

sebastian was by no means a bashful man.

he’s been called many things in his time, but bashful had never made the list—not like confident, brazen, or his favorite, audacious. better yet: arrogance with legs, as ominis often put it, though in his typically snide way. sebastian, for his part, didn't mind it. matter of fact, he wore it like a badge of honor, shiny and dazzling. to him, there was a certain satisfaction in standing out. if everyone else was scrambling to find their place, sebastian had already claimed his. carved it out of sheer determination.

so why—why in merlin’s name—was he suddenly so timid when she was near? why, when it came to her, did he suddenly lose all sense of the man he thought he was?

it wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent every waking moment in her company. their time together had become so familiar, so entwined in the fabric of his daily life, that he'd stopped counting the hours they'd spent laughing, bickering, teasing—just being. she had become a constant, more than a friend, really. though "friend" was probably the closest word, but now? it felt wide off the mark. especially since a friend didn’t become tongue-tied when talking to her. a friend didn’t feel his pulse race when her fingers brushed his in the corridors. and a friend certainly didn’t blush like a fool at the sound of her laugh.

and it’s not like sebastian wasn’t aware of it, of course. he wasn’t blind to his own shifting thoughts and feelings. he had enough sense to recognize the telltale signs: the quickened heartbeat, the constant wandering of his thoughts back to her, the way his chest felt too tight when she was near. schoolboy feelings—childish, ridiculous, and entirely beneath someone like him. yet here he was, drowning in them. but knowing didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

there were moments when he thought about just telling her outright. dropping the weight of his feelings at her feet and dealing with whatever came after. it seemed so simple in theory. but in practice? all that mettle goes flying out the window.

instead, he became an embarrassing, bumbling mess. words tumbled out of him awkwardly, half-formed and nonsensical, or worse, he’d overcorrect and lean too hard into teasing, only to feel an immediate sting of regret when her expression faltered ever so slightly. she deserved better than his idiocy, but merlin help him, he didn’t know how to be anything else when it came to her.

for someone who prided himself on his charm and quick wit, sebastian had never felt so completely, hopelessly out of his depth.

in fact, it had gotten so bad that he’d taken to actively avoiding her. hiding. the idea was absurd, really. he was sebastian sallow, for merlin's sake. avoiding her was something someone with far less nerve would do. but there he was, sneaking through corridors, ducking into alcoves. he’d even locked himself in his dorm on more than one occasion, feigning a headache or some other excuse when ominis inevitably called him out on it.

but eluding her was becoming a cruel joke—one hogwarts itself seemed eager to play along with. the castle, grand and labyrinthine, conspired against him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it was as if every hallway, every twisting corridor, every hidden nook was designed to lead him straight to her.

sebastian was on his way to a secluded spot he'd claimed for himself—quiet, tucked away, the perfect refuge for the pages of a book that promised to keep his mind distracted. that was the plan, at least, but luck—his luck, at least—was as cruel as ever.

he turned the corner and, there she was. she sat on the wide sill of a stained-glass window, knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on them as she stared out toward the lake. her hair caught the light just so, the golden afternoon sun casting a soft glow around her that made her look almost ethereal.

as if on instinct, his heart skipped in giddy betrayal at the sight of her. but even as his chest swelled, his mind betrayed him, blanking entirely—completely and utterly useless, as it always seemed to be when she was anywhere in his line of sight. if he didn’t move soon, she’d surely find him staring ridiculously at her. but he was rooted to the spot, staring like a fool. it's not too late to keep walking. he could just move past her, pretend he hadn’t seen her. it wasn’t like she’d spotted him yet…

“i know you’re there, sebastian. i can see your reflection in the glass.”

her voice shattered his internal debate, soft but laced with unmistakable amusement. she turned her head toward him, her lips quirking into the faintest curve, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

every plan of escape evaporated in an instant at the sight of her smile.

“where were you headed to?” she asked, tilting her head as if daring him to lie.

he swallowed hard, clearing his throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but his voice came out in a stammer. “i… uh, y’know, j-just around,” he mumbled, immediately cursing himself for how he sounded because not one single syllable of that had been nonchalant.

“by around, you mean away from me?” she accused, her tone light but sharp enough to cut through his feigned indifference. “you think i haven’t noticed how you’ve been avoiding me like the plague?”

his stomach dropped, panic bubbling to the surface. “w-what? no,” he blurted, far too quickly and far too loudly to even be remotely convincing. “why would i be avoiding you?”

she shrugged, one of her brow quirking upwards. “you tell me.”

“well, i’m not.” he insisted, gripping the leather-bound book in his hand like it was some kind of lifeline. he waved it slightly for emphasis. “i’m only… looking for a nice, quiet place to read my book.”

her eyes narrowed playfully, but there was something curious lingering in her gaze. “okay, prove it.”

“prove it?” he repeated, blinking at her as if she’d just asked him to duel her right there in the hallway.

“sit with me,” she said simply, shifting slightly to make room on the windowsill beside her. her smile widened puckishly as she patted the empty space next to her. “you know, i find this spot quite serene, nice for reading. there's even a great view of the lake, and the added bonus of my presence. isn’t that just what you're looking for? unless, of course, you really are running from me.”

sebastian froze, his mind racing as every excuse he could possibly muster flitted through his head. he could still walk away, couldn’t he? he could laugh it off, make some joke, anything to escape the situation before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

but the look in her eyes held him there, rooted in place, and something in him knew—she knew exactly what she was doing. she was testing him, waiting to see if he’d take the bait. and if he ran now, she’d never let him live it down. worse, he wasn’t sure he would.

gathering every ounce of composure he could muster (which, to be honest, wasn’t much), he crossed the short distance between them, his legs feeling like lead. slowly, he perched on the windowsill beside her, keeping just enough distance to keep himself from spiraling further but close enough that her warmth brushed faintly against him.

“there,” he muttered, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the lake outside. “happy?”

her smile softened, though he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at her to see it. “very,” she said, her tone softer now, less teasing.

sbastian tried—really tried—to focus on his book, but it was pointless. her presence beside him was unbearable in the best and worst ways, every tiny shift she made pulling his attention away like a magnetic force. the soft brush of her shoulder against his, the faint scent of her perfume, the way her hair caught the light—it was maddening.

and just when he thought he couldn’t handle more, she scooted closer to him.

“sebastian, have i done something to upset you?” she asked, her voice gentle but tinged with an earnestness that made his chest tighten.

his fingers toyed with the edges of his book. “what makes you think that?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“oh, really?” she dragged the word, sarcasm biting in her tone. “you hide from me, you don’t talk to me, and when you do, you can barely look at me. it’s… quite unsettling.”

that sounded like a challenge, and if anything, sebastian never backed down from a challenge. so with a sharp exhale, he forced himself to look at her directly. his dark eyes locked onto hers, and though his intention had been to put her at ease, his intensity clearly had the opposite effect.

she blinked, recoiling slightly as a blush spread on her cheeks. “nevermind, that’s even more unsettling. merlin.”

her words threw him, his brow furrowing as his mouth twitched into something between a scowl and a smirk. “i-i thought you wanted me to look at you,” he replied, his voice coming out higher than intended.

“yes, look at me—n-not bore holes into my soul.” she argued, crossing her arms defensively.

sebastian let out a frustrated laugh, dragging a hand through his already disheveled hair. “i don’t understand what you want from me.”

“just—be normal!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “merlin knows you haven't been in a while!"

she huffed, turning her face toward the window, as if the act could somehow hide the deep crimson spreading across her cheeks.

sebastian, on the other hand, rather than feel chastised, found himself even more endeared. it only proved her right—he hadn’t been normal (whatever normal meant) in a long while. a normal sebastian would’ve jumped at any opportunity to tease her, to throw a cheeky remark her way that would’ve left her rolling her eyes or swatting at him playfully. he would’ve poked at her for being so flustered, delighted in the way she tried to mask it with her sharp wit. but now? now he felt utterly and hopelessly unarmed.

was it possible to be both terrified and thrilled at the same time? because that was what she did to him—tied him in knots while making him feel like he could take on the world. and yet, every time he tried to find the words to express even a fraction of what was going on inside him, they tangled in his throat, leaving him helpless and, frankly, hysterical.

she bit her lip as she traced invisible lines on the frosted panes. “i can't believe it’s come to a point where i have to say this,” she muttered. “but i miss you, sebastian. i miss my friend.”

that would have made his heart stop, if only she hadn’t said the word “friend.” it seems that word haunted him more than it should. reminded him of his place—of his cowardice.

he could feel the way his chest subtly deflated, the way his shoulders drooped just a fraction, as though the weight of her words had suddenly doubled. had she noticed? he hoped not. it was humiliating enough to feel the sting of disappointment so fiercely; he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if she saw it, too. because then she’d ask. and if she asked, he’d have to tell her everything because, merlin help him, he wasn't sure he had the fortitude to resist her charms.

he opened his mouth, determined to say something—anything to reclaim a shred of normalcy—but all that came out was a pitiful, incoherent, “i…”

she turned to look at him then. “what is wrong with you lately?” she asked, her voice softer now, though still tinged with a hint of frustration. “you're not… you. you’re quiet and… iffy. you're driving me insane, sebastian.”

you’re driving me insane, too. he wanted to scream, but, of course, he didn’t say that. instead, he swallowed hard, his hands fidgeting awkwardly at the pages of the book on his lap, as though they could somehow express the things his mouth refused to.

“i—i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally managed, though it sounded weak, even to him.

her eyes narrowed, locking onto his as though she was trying to see straight through him. for a long beat, she didn’t say anything, and sebastian swore she’d hit him with a petrificus totalus. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—he could only wait as she weighed whatever thoughts were swirling in her head.

she opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. when she finally spoke, her voice was steadier. firmer. “oh, to hell with it.”

sebastian didn’t know she could scoot any closer, but she did. the small distance that had remained between them disappeared, and now their noses were practically touching. his pulse quickened, the heat from her proximity fraying every last one of his nerves. her gaze bore into his, and he could do nothing but sit frozen, utterly at her mercy.

“since you don’t have the courage to acknowledge it,” she began, her voice quieter but no less pointed, “i will.”

she gulped. "something’s changed between us, sebastian. don’t try to deny it—i know you feel it too. otherwise, you wouldn't be acting like this."

feel it? of course he felt it. it was all he did these days—feel everything where she was concerned. every stolen glance, every unspoken word, every lingering moment that left his heart racing long after it ended. it consumed him to a pathetic degree. and yet, despite the storm in his chest, he couldn’t seem to find his voice. his hands clenched the edges of his book, knuckles white, as he stared at her in wide-eyed silence.

she took his lack of response as an invitation to continue. “the lingering stares,” she pressed, her tone softening as her cheeks flushed deeper. “the buzz when our hands accidentally touch… it’s unnerving for me too, but that doesn’t make it right to run from me.”

the words pierced straight through him, guilt and longing twisting like a knife in his chest. she deserved better—better than his awkward, stilted avoidance. better than his cowardice.

“what are you saying?” he managed to croak, though his voice was hoarse, and his heart felt as though it might burst from his ribcage.

her cheeks burned brighter—adorable, if only the situation wasn't so utterly terrifying—and for a moment, she hesitated. but then she squared her shoulders, inhaled deeply, and met his gaze with unwavering determination.

“i’m saying, sebastian, that i like you, and i reckon you like me too,” she said, her words coming out in a single breath, as if rushing to get them out before her courage faltered. she exhaled sharply, as though trying to steady herself, and added, “and it’s about bloody time we talked about it.”

sebastian stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. the confession was so unexpected, so raw and vulnerable, that for a moment, he didn’t know if he’d imagined it.

she liked him? she liked him.

the words echoed in his mind, each repetition making his chest swell just a little more. for a fleeting second, he was over the moon. but then, just as quickly, he came crashing back down to earth.

this wasn’t how he’d imagined this conversation going. not even close.

in his head (where he’d been stuck too often lately), he’d planned it all out—he’d bring her a bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked himself, maybe something with those little blue ones she seemed to love so much. he would give a heartfelt speech, every word meticulously practiced, rehearsed so many times in his mind that it could rival a monologue from shakespeare’s plays. not to mention, he would be the one to confess, not the other way around.

but no. his backbone—if one could even call it that—had failed him time and time again, and now here he was, caught off guard and utterly useless in the moment he’d dreamed of for weeks.

her voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “well, say something, damn it!” she huffed, nudging him hard enough in the shoulder to make him sway.

he exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing as the reality of her words sank in. His lips twitched into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “you’re right,” he admitted softly. “something has changed.”

her breath hitched slightly, her expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “and?”

“and… merlin’s beard, i’m terrible at this,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his face in frustration. he took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze, even though it felt like his heart was doing somersaults in his chest.

“i do like you,” he admitted finally, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “i like you more than i can even put into words. that’s probably why i've been such a wreck lately. i kept telling myself i’d tell you eventually, but every time i got close, i just panic and ruin it.” he gestured vaguely at the space—or lack thereof—between them. “and now… now you’ve gone and done it for me.”

a smile twitched at her lips, though she tried to suppress it. “so, what you’re saying is, this is my fault?”

“well, if you’d just waited a little longer—”

“oh, shut it, sebastian,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes but stepping closer nonetheless. “i don’t think either of us would’ve survived waiting any longer.”

“still,” he said, his tone softening, “you deserved something better than my stammering and sweating and… all this.”

“i don’t need much,” she said, her voice gentler now, her gaze softening. “i just need you. preferably not running from me next time, though.”

"yes, well," sebastian let out a shaky breath, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. “i think i’m done running.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, his infamous brashness finally roared back to life. without overthinking it, without letting his nerves take hold, he lunged forward. his hands found her face, warm and soft beneath his fingers, and he kissed her. the book on his lap tumbled to the floor with a dull thud, but he didn’t care. it was clumsy, a little too eager, but he didn't care. he didn't care because he was kissing her.

the world tilted, narrowed, and then disappeared altogether. there was only the gentle press of her lips against his, the faint intake of her breath, and the way her hands instinctively gripped the front of his robes to steady herself. it was messy, impulsive, and absolutely him—no, them.

when the kiss broke only slightly, her breathless giggle sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. she leaned just far enough back to meet his gaze, her eyes dancing with amusement. “i suppose this makes us friends again?”

sebastian groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “please, gods, no,” he muttered against her lips, his voice dripping with mock horror.

her laughter bubbled up, light and free, and she tilted her head slightly, her smile almost mischievous. “what, you don’t want to be my friend, sebastian?”

“not even a little,” he said, grinning despite himself. his thumb brushed over the curve of her jaw, his gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes. “no, i’d much rather be whatever this is.”

her grin softened into something more tender, her hands sliding from his robes to rest lightly against his chest. “i think i’d rather like that too,” she admitted softly.

sebastian chuckled, a deep, relieved sound, and leaned in again, pressing his lips to hers once more. this time, it was slower, deliberate, like he was memorizing every second. then again, and again, each kiss growing lazier, sweeter, as if he had all the time in the world to be here, with her, like this.

between the kisses, he muttered softly, his voice thick with emotion. “thank you…” a kiss. “thank you…” another kiss. “for being braver than me.”

[twasmayfield]

day one | seaborn.

description: at natasha and bradley's wedding, you meet a friend of theirs named bob, who charms the hell out of you. and then you wake up in your hotel room on the morning of said wedding.

warnings: fluff, first meeting with bob, afab reader, no use of y/n, language, bob is a BIT ooc (i cannot capture characters' personalities 😭), mentions of bradley and natasha, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: this was rotting in my gdocs so i decided to fix it up a bit sigh.

“And to Nat and Bradley,” the chattering of the wedding guests died down as you raised your flute of champagne up, causing the guests to do the same. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

Natasha gave you a smile, mouthing out “thank you” as she and Bradley both raised their glasses before another bridesmaid took your place, making you slink away to the open bar. You let out a yawn, rolling your shoulders back as you set your flute down on the bar and waved down a bartender with a tight-lipped smile. Anyone within ten feet of you could see that you were exhausted—either it was sitting through the ceremony that basically cemented the fact that you were the only single one left in your friend group—Natasha was now married and Callie was basically going steady with that girlfriend of hers—or it was due to you being up since the crack of dawn (you were exaggerating) for makeup and walking around all day in heels that you were sure was going to give you blisters.

You wouldn’t say that you were extremely unlucky when it came to love and relationships as a whole. But you couldn’t deny it either. The only actual long lasting relationship you had was the relationship that lasted through your college years, and then he had the audacity to break up with you a year after graduating. Sure you were heartbroken, but then you started recounting everything in those four years and you realized that you should’ve cut him loose earlier. Maybe it was because you craved stability—your relationship was anything but stable—and he seemed to bring that to the table. Kinda.

Snippets of the other bridesmaid’s speech broke you out of your haze and you watched as the bartender poured something in a glass for you. They filled it halfway and you looked at them with a raised brow. A few seconds passed before they poured a bit more and slid it towards you with a nod. You thanked them, taking slow sips on it as the bridesmaid finished her speech. You did it better than her though.

The band started playing the first few notes of some romantic song you couldn’t figure out and you watched as the guests started to get up to dance. You stayed situated at the bar, noticing a guy with glasses. Somehow he looked out of place and not at the same time, one hand pulling at his tie slightly. You caught his eye—his very blue eyes—and you gave him a smile and a raise of your glass. He mirrored you, raising his own glass as well. Well, he’s not too bad then.

You waved him over, seeing him look both ways before he pointed at himself to which you nodded. You racked your brain, trying to figure out where you’ve seen him before. You couldn’t have passed him on the street because why would he be at the wedding of your close friend if he was a stranger? The guy strolled towards you as the band started another song. “Friend of the bride or groom?” You asked him as he stood beside you.

“Both actually,” he let out a small chuckle, pushing his glasses up. “You?”

Oh he knew both Nat and Bradley—they probably worked together then. You finished your drink, placing the empty glass on the bar as you blinked slowly, your legs suddenly feeling like lead. “Friend of the bride. We were childhood friends.” You replied, shaking your head when the bartender made a move to refill your glass. You offered him your name as your eyes landed on Natasha and Bradley slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor. They looked cute.

“Robert.” He offered, finishing his drink as well. “They call me ‘Bob’ though.”

You nodded, rolling your shoulders as you looked up at him. “Wanna get out of here?”

Waves washed up against the sand as you held your heels by the straps, bare feet on the wet sand as you trailed beside Bob, who had his tie undone and his suit jacket resting on his arm. The moon was bright, its light casting on the ripples of the water. The night felt eerie in a way, but you shrugged it off to the coldness of the night’s air and the random chirping of crickets that the waves somehow didn’t drown out.

“That was a nice speech, you know?” Bob commented, breaking the comfortable silence that was between the two of you.

You kept your eyes glued to the sand below you, shrugging. “Thanks. I just… said what was in my heart, I guess.” Bob hummed at that.

“I mean it though,” you fidgeted with the straps of your heels before you looked back up, meeting his eyes. “Nat and Bradley, they—they deserve only the best.” You sighed and Bob nodded at your words, reading between the lines and understood what you were trying to say. He left it at that and the two of you continued walking, reaching a cave lined with rocks with all sorts of shapes.

You sat down on the sand, leaning on one of the rocks and not caring that sand was sticking to your dress. That was tomorrow you’s problem. You patted to the empty space beside you, inviting him to come and sit down next to you. Bob compiled, sitting down beside you with his legs crossed.

The two of you sat in silence, listening to the waves and the occasional sound of crickets chirping in the far distance. Eventually, you broke the silence and you shared your favorite food and he, in return, shared his favorite songs and genres. He told you about his mother and sisters and how he wanted to be a naval aviator because his dad was one, and you listened to his every word because he had a tinge of a southern drawl that your ears caught on after a few sentences. You recounted your silly adventures with Natasha from childhood and all the way up to the end up high school when you both promised to keep in touch as you were accepted into a different college than her. And strangely—in some weird way—you two shared more similar interests than you expected.

A strange crackle of sound was heard from inside the cave that caused you to tilt your head in confusion. Bob stood back up, straightening his back as he looked down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ll go check it out.”

You watched as he made his way towards the cave, disappearing into it a few seconds later and the only existing piece of him was the jacket he left behind on the sand. You waited a few seconds, trying to distract yourself, but then realized that Bob should’ve come out by now. You strained your ear, trying to listen for something—anything—and then getting up yourself.

Usually, caves were supposed to be dark at night, but this one was glowing faint blue. Bob had completely disappeared and there was light in his absence. You held your hand up, watching as the blue light danced around your hand; a tingling feeling in your hand that felt like pins and needles as it looked like your hand was somehow disappearing with the light. That somehow made you sober up, trying to pull your hand away. “What the fuck?!”

Your eyes widened in panic as a burst of blue light surrounded your entire body, pulling you in deeper and deeper before your body got sucked in.

Your phone alarm blares at you, causing you to grumble as you blindly grab it to turn it off. You open one eye, swiping the alarm close as your eye catches the date and time on your lock screen. May 15th, 7:00 am. The same date as yesterday. You notice the hotel carpet and the clothes you were wearing. You peel the comforter off, grabbing your phone and checking it again. Same time and date. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

Your door opens and Natasha peeks her head in with a smile. “Hey, you coming?” You nod at her question and give her a tight lipped smile before she nods and closes the door again.

This isn’t happening. You were definitely dreaming.

You needed to find that guy. Now.

[neteyamsl0v3r]

Not so bad, after all.

╰┈➤ PART III.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: When neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 3.5k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, unrequited love, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

word bank: ma'itan = son, oel ngati kameie = i see you, marui = pods built in mangrove trees

a/n; unedited. posted it here straight from gdocs. i'll try revising everything once i finished the fic mweheehe.

TEXT DIVIDERS CREDITS TO @/cafekitsune

masterlist

part II | part IV

PART III.

Like Tsireya said, Ao’nung did come the next morning. In his tow is his ever loyal companion, Roxto. Ao’nung gave you a look and pulled you back as you watch Tsireya lead the Sullys into the water. As you turn to look at Ao’nung, you didn’t catch the worried glance Neteyam sent your way as Tuk pulled him away. 

“I heard from one of the boys that you joined Tsireya? Are the freaks that hard to teach that she asked you for help?” He asked, voice low as he stared at you. 

You found yourself staring defiantly at him, something you usually would refrain to do in respect for the Olo-eyktan’s son, but you are not as patient was you were before. “Quit it, Ao’nung. Have some respect. If you didn’t ditch Tsireya and actually did what the Olo-eyktan told you to do, then we wouldn’t be here in this situation. I’m doing what you are supposed to do, skxawng.” You took your arm out of his grasp with an annoyed hiss, giving him a glare as you looked back at Neteyam’s group.

Ao’nung looked at you for a few seconds, grumbling to himself as Roxto interjected.

“They are even worse than babies! They should just go back to the forest, tree hugging freaks…”

Your blood boiled with rage. You believe deep in your heart that Roxto is not a bad person, but he kept challenging these beliefs with his terrible words, and it angers you that Ao’nung allows this to happen. With a frown, you kicked Roxto in his knees, making him almost kneeling. “Stop calling them freaks, Roxto! Don’t make me report your behavior to the Tsahik!”

Roxto wanted to retort as he grimaced and grunted with pain. He was stopped by Ao’nung’s hand. If there’s one thing that can deter these arrogant boys, it’s the Tsahik. With a prick of a sharp object, she can make them paralyzed for days. 

Glancing at you for a few seconds, Ao’nung finally spoke. “Fine. Let’s see what these babies can do.” 

He didn't even wait for you as he marched towards Tsireya and the Sully children. Roxto gave you a complicated glance before following after Ao’nung like he had replaced the latter’s tail.

Knowing his arrogant nature, you suddenly began doubting whether it was good to bring Ao’nung into this. You should've let him slack off like he wanted, instead of indirecting pulling him in and letting him cause trouble for the newbies. 

It's probably fine, right? Tsireya's there to keep them in check.

“Ao’nung, it's nice to finally be in your presence, brother.” Neteyam greeted Ao’nung, then glanced at you in the back, your gazes intertwined for a few seconds. 

“Hey,” he greeted you which you reciprocated with a soft hi. 

Ao’nung sneered, not bothering to greet back Neteyam as he walked into the water. “You even managed to get her to help you out. It seems that you guys are truly hopeless little babies.”

Tsireya glared at Ao’nung, “Stop being mean and start actually doing something, tsmukan.”

You ignored the two and smiled at the remaining Sully children. Tuk smiled back as she embraced Kiri in the water. Kiri gave you a small reserved smile, but it was still progress. The first time you met her, she barely acknowledged you. Lo’ak was still the same, nodding at you with a smile before giving his brother strange looks. 

Walking towards Neteyam, you tamed your wild heartbeat and gently asked. “I’m going to teach you the the final basics of breath-holding. This will be the most crucial part of learning how to stay alive for a long time underwater.”

Neteyam nodded, leaning closer to you as Kiri and Tuk swam towards where Tsireya was located. It was when you finally realized that you had made a mistake. That you approached Neteyam instead of Tuk, separating yourself and Neteyam from the group. You spotted Ao’nung giving you a look that commands you to follow him, but you ignored it.

You looked at Neteyam who looked back at you with calm eyes. If not for his tail flicking and ears perked up, you wouldn't have picked on the fact that he’s actually very eager to learn. 

It made you feel less nervous. He enjoys this, and it makes you feel happy. 

“F-Follow me then.” 

Neteyam gave you a smile, almost teasingly, but there’s still a hint of hesitation as if he was afraid you’d be offended. “Yes, Karyu~”

As you were about to pull his hand, you heard someone yell. “Wait!” Ao’nung approached you two, looking at Neteyam. You can feel the tension picking up as Neteyam gave Ao’nung an unreadable glance. “I’ll come with you. I’ll teach this forest boy,”

“Kehe!” You shouted unconsciously, earning everyone’s attention. You saw Tsireya looking over, seemingly worried. 

Ao’nung’s eyes narrowed at you. “Why? I’m the one that supposed to teach these guys, not you.”

“Oh come on, Ao’nung. You don’t even know what to teach. Just go away, help Tsireya or whatever. I can handle this.”

Ao’nung looked surprised with what you said. In fact he didn’t expect for you to refuse him and his help, making him feel flustered for some reason he cannot name. 

He didn't seem convinced so you communicated with Tsireya with your fingers. Without hesitation, Tsireya walked briskly and pulled Ao’nung. “Leave her alone, tsmukan. You’ll just distract her.”

Ao’nung looked between you and Neteyam before roughly pulling away from Tsireya’s grasp. Watching him walking away, you also felt complicated. You didn’t even know why you’re so against him being present with your lessons with Neteyam. 

Neteyam looked at you before looking at Ao’nung’s back, golden eyes narrowing. “That finger talk, it looks interesting.”

You were awakened from you reverie by his voice. “Yeah, it’s something that reef people must learn, you know, to communicate underwater. If you want I can teach you once we finish the swimming lessons. O-only if you want.”

Neteyam smiled at you, watching your face as it started to look different in shade. “I’d like that.”

On a rock, you sat face to face with Neteyam, trying not to look at his face. Your knees were touching his, you can even feel the temperature that radiated off him, his gentle breaths, the swish of his tail, and the twitching of his ears. 

“C-Can I touch you?”

“What?!”

Neteyam’s reaction surprised you. He looked disbelieving as he looked at you with wide golden eyes. He looked genuinely shocked at your question, making you question whether you actually said something inappropriate. 

Raising your palms, you tried to explain in haste. “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to help you understand the basics, but it would require me g-guiding your stomach and chest..."

Now it was his turn to get flustered, hastily avoiding your eyes as he stuttered. “O-oh, okay. Go ahead.”

You tried hard not to let your hand shake, you don’t even know why you are so nervous. You have taught alot of children to get better in breath-holding, so teaching wasn’t new to you. But facing someone like Neteyam messes you up. 

With all of your courage, you gently touched the space between his ribs and his stomach. “Take a deep breath here,”

Neteyam inhaled slowly, but he cannot reach form you want to see with his heartbeat being as wild as yours. Your hand shook, and you knew he felt it. You tried to get everything under control but your hand is not listening to you. So you just let it be, and relished at the strong heartbeat under your fingertips. 

What a strong heartbeat. A heartbeat of a warrior. 

You tried to stifle the smile that’s threatening to emerge in your lips. You cannot show, so you tried to act as if nothing’s wrong. “Neteyam, y-your heart’s beating so fast. Mawey…”

Neteyam stiffened under your hand, his temperature rising in embarrassment. “...I’m sorry, let me try again.”

Listening to the heartbeat and the gentle waves of the water, you gently said. “You must be calm but strong, like the coean. Inhale…”

You can feel Neteyam’s gaze travelling on your facial features, his gaze held a searing heat and you can feel your face burning up because of it. “Exhale, Neteyam.”

“The way of water has no beginning and no end, the sea is around you and in you…water connect all things, life to death, darkness to light…”

Your gaze met with Neteyam’s, intertwined, as the sound of your heartbeats drowned your voice out. In this moment, there’s no ocean, no waves, no breeze. There’s only you and Neteyam, with your heartbeats thrumming in sync. 

Neteyam cannot sleep. In the darkness, he silently walked out of his family’s marui to walk along the shore. It was deep into the eclipse, with only the bioluminescent corals under water as his light. No matter how hard he tried to sleep, his mind is always filled with you face, your smile, your voice, your eyes that is full of unsaid words. He cannot stop thinking about you, even when he kept trying to convince himself that there’s nothing so special about you. You’re just a regular reef na’vi, with a rather reserved and quiet personality. 

So Neteyam didn’t really believe Lo’ak when that skxawng told him that he probably liked you that’s why he cannot take you out of his mind. Because if he really likes someone, isn’t Tsireya the most suitable person?

Neteyam isn’t a shallow person, but as the son of the most well-known warrior, he grew up with arrogance natural for his standing and achievements. Someone like Tsireya would be more suitable for him to like, she’s the olo-eyktan’s daughter with good-looks and kind personality. Although he didn’t really like her, he knew that it was only natural if he would fall for her.

Not you. He still doesn’t believe that he had fallen for you. It must have been short-term curiosity for an elusive and mysterious person like you. Heck, he didn’t even know anything about you aside from the fact that you are Tsireya and Ao’nung’s close companion and you study under the awa’atlu’s Tsahik. 

So why?

“What why, ma’itan?”

Neteyam almost jumped into the water when Neytiri’s voice rang behind him. “Mom, what are you doing here?!” 

Neytiri gave him a pointed glance before sitting beside him in the sand. “I should be the one asking that, Neteyam. What are YOU doing here? In this hour?”

Neteyam looked away and avoided his mother’s eyes. He should’ve known that she’s still awake, or at least alert enough to wake up with just simple movements. When it comes to stealth, she’s always the best in the family. 

“Nothing, mom. I-I’m just thinking about the lessons.”

Neytiri hummed, looking at the calm waters and the bright bioluminescent reefs. “Thinking about the lessons, or the person giving the lessons?”

Neteyam almost choked in his own saliva. With embarrassment, he hissed. “Mom! Don’t tell me you also believe Lo’ak and Tuk’s nonsense!”

His mother chuckled as she hugged her oldest son’s shoulder. “Is it really nonsense? There still must be a reason why they said that. Your sister Kiri also told me you were having fun with her today, totally forgetting your siblings.”

Are they for real? Even you, Kiri? Neteyam grimaced. “They’re jumping into conclusions. I-I, W-we’re just friends. I don’t like her like that. I barely know her.”

The woman smiled at her son’s embarrassed appearance. “I didn’t say you like her.”

This time, Neteyam was truly silenced. He didn’t know what to say.

“When I first met your father, I wanted to kill him. There’s anger and hatred for him and his kind in my heart, but I must admit there’s something complex in there too. Something I cannot explain before. Who would’ve thought we’ll come this far? With four lovely children.”

Neteyam looked at his mother before looking down at the sand on his feet. “You and dad told us about your love story million times already.”

“But do you understand what I mean, ma’itan? What I want you to understand is that there’s no use dwelling on thoughts that Eywa clearly hasn’t given you answers for. Wait for everything to unfold, and while doing so, have fun. Experience life with Eywa’s guidance, you know Eywa has plans for you. Don’t think about it too much. Like your father once said, go with the flow.”

Neytiri loves her son, she loves all her children. Neteyam is still young, but since he was young enough to understand, expectations are already heavy on his shoulders. So although, she does not know you enough to trust you with Neteyam’s heart, she’s still happy to help her son out if it means he’ll get the fun time he, as a young boy, deserves. It’s the least thing she can do for him as his mother.

Neteyam watched his mother walked back to their marui, before sighing deeply and standing up. Perhaps this time he can finally get some rest. May Eywa guide him in this confusing times.

You knew something was wrong when you didn’t see Ao’nung and his friends in their usual spot. So against your better judgement, you ran to the place you knew the Sully’s would be. You didn’t even know why you were running and feeling anxious, but when you saw Ao’nung and his friends picking on Kiri, you knew your intuition were spot on. 

“Hey! Back off, fish lips!” Lo’ak shouted, making Ao’nung and his friends turn their attention to him.

Seeing who it was, Ao’nung laughed. “Oh, another four-fingered freak~”

One of Ao’nung’s friends grabbed Lo’ak tail, laughing as he pulled it hard. “Look at this baby tail!”

Despite Lo’ak pushing them away, they kept mocking him, calling his tail baby tail in sing–song voice. They ignored Kiri’s plea, so you ran and pushed one of Ao’nung’s friends. “Enough! Stop this!”

Ao’nung looked at you and sneered. “What are YOU doing here?  Move and don’t meddle with our business!”

“This is MY business! You’re being too much, Ao’nung! What you are doing is disgraceful!”

Your words seem to have an effect on Ao’nung as he became visibly angry. He walked in front of you and pointed Lo’ak and Kiri. “You really like this freaks, huh? Pissing me off and siding with these tree-hugging fr—”

A rough push from behind you forces Ao’nung to take several steps back. You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was as his voice rang above your head, low and dangerous. “You heard what she said. Leave them alone. Back. Off. Now.”

Ao’nung’s friends wanted to speak, but Ao’nung held his hand up, staring straight to Neteyam. 

As you were about to move aside, Neteyam’s hand landed on you shoulder, making you immobile. “And from now on, you need to respect my siblings.”

His voice hinted his authority over Ao’nung, for he was a full-fledged warrior. You felt relief with his presence. Thankfully, no one got hurt, at least physically.

Ao’nung and his friends stared at Neteyam, while Kiri stuck her tongue out in mockery. Seeing their expression, Neteyam finally removed his hand on your shoulder, as if to urge you to walk back with him to his siblings. 

You can feel Ao’nung’s stare in your back as you walked with Neteyam. Sure enough, one of his friends complained. “Brother, why is she helping this family of freaks? Isn’t she supposed to be in your side, not these fr–”

You froze, making Neteyam look at you questioningly. Lo’ak, who’s nearest to Ao’nungs group finally snapped and began walking back. It made Neteyam curse under his breath, knowing full well what’s about to go down.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam called, both worried and warning his brother to not make trouble.

“I got this bro,” Lo’ak looked at Ao’nung straight in the face. “I know this hand looks funny. Look, I’m a freak, alien,” 

Ao’nung and his friends laughed, but Lo’ak continued. “But I can do something really cool. First, I ball it up real tight like this. Then—”

BAM! BAM! BAM!

“That’s called a punch, bitch!”

You gasps as Ao’nung fell on the water, looking astonished. He and his face immediately charged and tackled Lo’ak, making Neteyam join the fight. You tried holding his forearm to stop him, but you missed.

The fight become chaotic. Pulling, kicking, slapping. Just one big mess, as you heard Kiri giggle in the background. You tried pulling Ao’nung away from Neteyam, but got hit in the face in the process. Both Ao’nung and Neteyam pause, before fighting even more ferociously.

“Stop! Enough!” Tonowari’s voice boomed, stopping all the commotion in just few words.

Oh, Eywa, what a mess. 

Neteyam winced as his tongue made contact with his cut. Some parts of his body was aching, but like that night, he find it hard to sleep again. He suddenly missed their life in the forest, where no one would dare to pick on him and his family, where people genuinely treats them with respect, where he was still the olo-eyktan’s son. 

“Neteyam,” He didn’t turn around. He knew it was you before you even called his name.

You sat down beside him, he didn’t look at you but he also didn’t move away. Neteyam waited for you to speak.

“Can I help you with your cut?”

Neteyam looked at you for a second and saw the concern in your eyes. It didn’t escape his eyes, the bruise on your cheek. His stomach flipped, feeling upset. He found it hard to refuse, so he relented. “Fine. Only if you allow me to help you back with that nasty bruise.”

You smiled. “Sure.” You felt nervous touching his face, but your concern for him won over your anxiety. With gentle touch, you spread the salve on the cut on his lips, trying not to look in his eyes in fear that you’ll lose focus. For a moment, you relished in the silence between you and Neteyam, fully immersed in each other’s company.

“You don’t have to compensate for Ao’nung, it is not your fault.” He broke the silence when you finished putting salve in his lips. 

You paused before smiling at him as you looked into his eyes. You know you had to, so he’ll know you are saying the truth. “Believe it or not, I’m not doing this for that skxawng. I’m not here to compensate for his terrible personality and bad decisions, I-I…”

You paused, suddenly uncertain if you should continue. You continued anyway. “...I’m doing this for m-me. Because I c-care for you.”

Neteyam’s heart thrummed against his chest, but he tried playing it off as he chuckled nervously. “...I’m sorry, I thought…”

You waved your hands. “I’m sure you have an idea now, about you know? My identity.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you gazed at the ocean, smiling wryly to yourself.

“I’m the only child of my warrior father and a weaver mother. They both died when awa’atlu was attacked by a group of akulas. I was an ‘eveng, so my grandfather took me. He’s an elder trusted by the Olo-eyktan, but he’s often away doing trades with the other nearby clans. He arranged me with Ao’nung in hopes of securing my future. No one asked me what I wanted, no one cared. But Neteyam…this is a shackle, not a path for the future.”

You don’t expect Neteyam to understand, but he did anyway. At first, his fingers grazed with yours, until he slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You looked at him, too many unspoken words you cannot say, because if you do, it may ruin you and Neteyam’s life forever.

“Oel ngati kameie,” He whispered, as he gazed back at you. “As the son of Toruk Makto, everyone’s expectation of me was to surpass or at least become as mighty as my father. I love my family, and I’d do everything for them. But it gets tiring too, you know? Being expected to accomplish this and that, without a second to breathe. I’d still do it though, if it means keeping my family together.”

Your admiration for Neteyam grew even stronger. You can never be like him, who’s brave enough to do what must be done for the sake of his loved ones. “I admire you. At least you are brave enough to face it, while all I do is run.”

His grip on your hand tightened. “You can still change it, no?”

You didn’t reply, and Neteyam doesn’t seem to expect any. He just took the salve in your hands and began spreading it on your bruised cheek. “Little miss protector, always remember not to interrupt boys fighting okay?”

You giggled and it made him chuckle. When he was finished, he secured the salve in your satchel and urged you to go sleep. You were reluctant, but still nodded. You want Neteyam to have a rest. 

After a few steps, you ran back and stood face to face with him, “Can we meet tomorrow here, same time? I want you to see something special to me.”

Neteyam didn’t hesitate and agreed with a smile. He brushed a stray hair and tucked it in your ears. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Oel ngati kamiei, Neteyam.” Then, you ran to your marui without looking back, feeling giddiness you have never felt before, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you and Neteyam from afar.

[ranticore]

what writing program do you use?

I use LibreOffice, a free open source word processor. It's very customisable, I change my document bg to medium grey so that my eyes don't hurt. It saves documents as .odt by default

When I was finished a book I would open it in Word to run a spelling and grammar check as Word used to have more sophisticated proofreading abilities but the last time I did it it was absolute tripe due to increased implementation of ai. I also use Word to format the pdf for printing

To turn the .odt document into an epub novel i save as .html and open in Calibre to format the ebook. You can then read it using google books or apple books on ur phone

Other programs I've used/tried:

Google docs - the only reason anyone should use this is if they're writing cross platform in which case it can be useful. Hands-down the worst spelling suggestions out there and stupidly lacking in functionality on mobile

Bear (iOS) - it's nice if you like markdown and only exporting as .rtf files in the free version. Works well, stores documents offline, and uses a nice tag system to organise stuff. I wrote all my Siren prose in this

Scrivener - overcomplicated and distracting

Discord - honestly prefer it when writing cross platform over gdocs, sometimes I'll write a paragraph or so on mobile and just paste it into my libreoffice when I get home. My pc is immovably large & I don't own a laptop

Word (for writing) - if you click & drag to highlight text in libre, it will highlight only the exact letters you selected. Word has a fun feature where it makes assumptions about what you REALLY wanted to do and tries to fight you on it. Fuck Word