Tumgik
#i just want to be at sea and cease to exist
even-in-arcadia · 1 year
Text
neither alive nor dead but a secret third thing (at sea)
21K notes · View notes
zaritarazi · 3 months
Text
enough of the grace granted to fence-sitting jews, to the jews that are too scared to stand up to their mommies and daddies about palestine, so they come online and tone police. i am humbled by the grace nonjews have shown these jews. as a jew that has never been a zionist, who has no zionist family, and who grew up around many other anti-zionist jews, you have been far kinder to these genocide-abetters than i ever could be. and so as a jew, i see your grace, and i personally respect you and your commitment to equal and social justice.
but you don't owe these cowards a fucking thing. when they come on and say "this is a dogwhistle but this is a legitimate palestinian charity" ignore them. they can get with the right side of history, or they can stay with their congregation. you aren't required to hear them out. you don't owe them a single thing.
these spineless cucks will decry nonjews tokenizing anti-zionist jews to say "antisemitic" things, and then those antisemitic things are literally... things that the iof is currently doing. on video. daily. so tokenize me all you'd like. i have lots of other antizionist jewish friends i grew up with- we're all white jews, tokenize them, too. until palestine is free, until those cowards remember who their fucking G-d is, don't waste your time on them. from the river to the sea.
18 notes · View notes
celesterayel · 3 months
Text
midnight secrets | luke castellan
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing : luke castellan x nyx!reader
request: can you write about luke and a daughter of nyx? <33
IN WHICH — he knows only one true thing: you put all the stars to shame.
"now I just wanna stay here and fall into midnight. Want nobody else now, only you, feel right" - a.
w.c. 1.9k
warning(s) : soft ゜✭・.
✩ ‧₊˚ author's note can you tell when I was younger I had fallen in love with the night and the idea of it? cuz I did. very much so, I'd say. also water, always loved the concept of it--the fragility and softness of it, like a balm against my skin.
Tumblr media
long, long ago you learned of the sea of stars and their stories, from which rose their beginning and end. the stars were beings of heat and fire; they were beautifully mortal and alive.
they danced upon the domain of zeus; showering the sky with lights when night fell and befitting the world with their glow.
but as the sands of time bade the next and the corners of the sky dulled, the toll of living and breathing became too much. and so in the vast space of nothingness among the empty silence, the stars took on the duty of protecting a human and god: following where they might go, to every lifetime and universe as if they could erase the tragedy of the divine that swam through their blood.
and when each stars’ child died and their soul followed its ache to finally rest, the star would fall out of the sky in a blazing trail of destruction and divinity to taste freedom one last time and meet them in the next life.
there had been something raw and gruesomely alive about the stars when you learned of the story and so everyday, you’d trapeze the mortal line between night and sleep to watch them in absolution. you yearned to find an answer as to why? why would such immortal and imposing celestial beings like the stars willingly ruin themselves for us humans, for us beings that hungered for war and found pain like a symphony?
you learned your answer when you met luke castellan, your own tragic star who would follow you when the blood of the gods stopped flowing through your veins and your existence came to its calamitous end.
you had spent most of your life curiously confused as if there was something missing that made you feel broken; a piece of the puzzle that made drizzles seem like hurricanes and everything seem like an unsolvable mystery, constantly itching at your skin as if you just needed to pull back the layers and scratch.
and then, one day it stopped.
the buzzling in your head faded and you seem to finally just be.
luke castellan was the rain before the storm, the pain before the raw scream; every fatal, holy thing that meant absolution and destruction in the same manner. a price you were willing to pay if it meant loving him.
and you did–love him that is. every part of you ached with love for your golden boy who had weathered storms like they were his prison and had wanted like it was a fatal wound that might never heal.
you first met the golden castellan boy nearly a year after coming to camp where you were claimed to be a child of the night and stars, the goddess nyx; an absolution of divinity that you would be every dark, enchanting thing he would know. you were the only thing that would allow the hurt in him to finally cease its dance and just allow him to simply be.
while the blood of the gods flowed through your veins, the peace only night could bring was your cover. it was every paceless sleep spent at the docks praying to your mother for one more star to keep its dance, it was heaven and heartbreak in the same measure.
when both man and monster fell to slumber, it was the knowing that eventually everyone would cease their dance sooner or later.
people would watch you like you were a painting come to life as the moon basked you in waves of starlight and the forest came to life in your presence. when the night grew tired of its waiting and the stars lost their way, it was you coaxing them back to life to the restlessness all beings underwent.
you were a creature of presence and peaceful destruction, misfortune and desire–every loud, unsaintly thing the brown-eyed, dimpled boy had thought.
and he was your exact opposite: bold, bright and charming like the sun. it was as if hermes had threaded gold through his veins and ichor had poured forth to create whatever celestial thing luke was. a type of burn only the sun could bring when you went off to your death.
the night had settled upon the camp long ago and so nothing but the loudness of silence and pensive dreams continued its echo. except for the child of the night and her sun who seem to find balance between the bumbling and the glow of the soft moon.
luke grabbed your hand and threaded his fingers, clutching you tightly as if you’d disappear with the breeze and never return.
he guided you to the docks where the river reflected back the divinity of the night sky and lapped gentle waves against the shore. you sat side by side, silently basking in the quiet.
breaking the silence, he asked, “what’s wrong?”
what was wrong? you didn’t quiet know. there was just a sort of cloak of discomfort that had settled over you that you couldn’t seem to shake off.
“do you ever wonder what’ll happen next?”
you settled his hand in your lap and grabbed it like it was a lifeline, tethering your aching body back to the living when all you wanted was to fade. he only rubbed the back of your knuckle, soothing the skin and the bone-deep itch all at once.
you turn to gaze at him, and suddenly you were jealous of the moon and how it shined so beautifully on him like it was made for him to bask under.
he turns to look at you, “before no. now…every moment, i begin to think what makes us so different from humans that we suffer tragedy while they can live how they please and without the cruelty of the gods. I think about what will happen when i finally pass on from this life to wherever my soul may go.”
you don’t think you could handle leaving this world after him. it was a type of pain that would kill you inside out, you decided. you knew it.
there is vulnerability in him that speaks out, “and then i dream that none of that matters because someday you and i make it out of here. out of this place and away from gods and monsters.”
you only grab his other hand and the one you currently have trapped and place a kiss upon each of the palms, embedding all the affection you have for him in that moment. it is something so humanely lived that the world stops moving and the gods see a love for the ages.
he plucks you up from his side and merely places you in his lap, wrapping you tightly in arms like there is no war spreading and reaching it’s claws from the horizon toward the two of you.
you simply close your eyes, soaking in the boy who's holding you like you are a divine being.
“open your eyes and show me the stars, pretty girl.”
all he can think is the moon and stars, which you've fallen in love with so many times has nothing against you. and suddenly your staring the biggest star in the face, wondering if in another life you were the moon and he was the sun king.
but when he kisses you, you realize no. he is simply the star that will follow you when your bodies turn to ash, being picked up by the breeze. and there is only the secret that luke castellan would allow himself a thousand years of destruction if it meant following you where ever you go.
you two are simply a star and his love.
972 notes · View notes
zorosdimples · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
BETWEEN YOU AND ME (AND THE SEA)
Tumblr media
pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader
warnings ༄ suggestive content (this takes place after sex). slight angst that ends in sweet comfort. brief descriptions of violence and wounds. love as religion/love as worship.
word count ༄ 911
notes ༄ this fic is just an insanely intense pillow talk session with my favorite man (i don’t know how to be normal). it’s brimming with love. please enjoy!
p.s. i use the word “bokken” to denote a wooden practice sword.
Tumblr media
“i would die for you.”
your breath caresses zoro’s heaving chest, his tawny skin damp, glistening under the moon’s pearly glow. the air is still in the crow’s nest; the only sound to disturb the lulling midnight is the gentle lap of the wine-dark sea.
it takes the swordsman several moments to process your words, his mind still hazy from the events of your shared watch. one wide palm rests on the soft curve of your lower back while he absentmindedly strokes the arch of your neck.
“hm?” zoro belatedly rumbles, brows knit in confusion.
you raise your head to meet your lover’s steel gaze. the look in your eye—zoro knows it well. beneath the heady cloud of contentment is the crazed glint of worship, shining like a honed blade. it’s a look that both terrifies him in its depth and comforts him in its earnestness.
will he ever be worthy of your devotion?
“i’m not particularly brave or strong,” you start, a fingertip etching love into his flesh as you trace the jagged edges of the scar that slashes across his torso—the ghost of an injury that almost took him from you.
“but i would do anything for you, zo. i would die for you. and it should scare me, that i feel so deeply.” your finger stills, hovering above his heart, beat steadfast as the foamy tide. “but when it comes to you? i lose all my inhibitions. i would die for you in an instant.”
even in the dusky quiet, zoro’s hands are broad and warm as the sun. they are an extension of his weapons, instruments of death. yet he cradles your cheeks with devastating care as he pulls your face to his own. his jaw flexes resolutely as he grits out, “don’t say shit like that.”
“not saying it doesn’t make it any less true,” you murmur.
few things scare the swordsman; he knows death’s face, having brushed shoulders with the endless ether more times than he can count. when he dreams, he wades through a river of ichor as asura, violence incarnate.
but your vulnerability frightens him—how you lay your heart bare and expect nothing in return.
the way you live goes against everything zoro has ever known, against his basest instincts to keep his emotions close to his chest, to fight the burden of existence with blood in his maw, to survive at any cost.
(it’s a bitter january evening and snow flurries paint the eaves of the dojo white. zoro’s stomach growls, hunger gnawing at his intestines. his young, scrawny limbs ache with overuse. the room is frigid; his simple robe is not nearly enough to keep the color in his cheeks.
this dreaded overnight practice is punishment for pilfering onigiri from the kitchen several days prior. hunger is but a distraction for the weak. he must repent with grueling drills. but in the middle of an overhead swing, he loses feeling in his arms, the bokken clattering to his feet.
his sensei tsks in disappointment. “the way of the sword is absolute, roronoa. you eat and sleep and breathe by the blade. the second you lose focus—the moment you lose sight of what is important—you will cease to be a swordsman.”
tears of frustration prick the young boy’s eyes, but he holds his tongue, picking up the bokken without sound or complaint. he doesn’t realize that his palms are cracked and that the wooden hilt is stained sanguine. he continues training until dawn.)
zoro licks his chapped lips. his tongue is always loose when it’s just the two of you and the sea. “i’m not worth it.”
a frown pinches your features. adorable, he wants to say as you wrap your arms around his neck with a huff.
“what makes you think your life is worth any less than luffy’s? than chopper’s? than mine?”
zoro assesses you for a moment, feline eye unreadable. he measures his words with unusual care. “my role is to protect. it was—it is—my vow to luffy.”
threading your fingers through his mint tresses, you tug, concern rolling off of you in waves. “then who’s left to protect you, zo?”
his mind answers without hesitation: no one. (the little boy with the bloodstained bokken weeps.)
“let me protect you,” you entreat, lips brushing his, ardent as a prayer.
the fates, in their divine and impartial wisdom, must have made a grave mistake: spinning the claret thread of your fate, meting it out, and mistakenly intertwining it with the swordsman’s. zoro is certain that it’s a miscarriage of justice—not that the gods have ever been preoccupied with fairness.
did he do something in a past life to deserve your reverence?
“i can’t,” he breathes. but his iron resolve is rusting, fissures compromising the once-gleaming surface.
“you can.”
zoro has never considered himself to be a good man. you are eager to give, and he wants nothing more than to receive. he drinks in your affection so greedily that he doesn’t notice how his lone eye burns when he claims your lips with his own, heartfelt i love yous exchanged between spit and tongue.
the tears are silent as they drip down his freckled cheek; you swipe each of them away with a thumb before dotting kisses across his salty flesh. zoro has half a mind to be embarrassed—swordsmen don’t cry.
but if there is one absolute truth in this cursed world, it’s this: his heart is safe with you and you alone.
546 notes · View notes
kelocitta · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-
Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.
To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)
And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.
Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.
The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.
They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri
636 notes · View notes
devieuls · 9 months
Text
ˋ Moonlight ☾
Neteyam Sully x Metkayina Albino Reader ( ONE SHOT )
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis : The elders told the clans that the children of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. But when you were born, no one saw you as a blessing of the Great Mother, but as one of the demons of heaven, being despised by most of the clan just for your appearance. But when, nineteen years later, a family from the forest arrives on the island of Awa'atlu, you will finally find someone who will be able to see you beyond your outward appearance.
Warning : Fluff (at the beginning), many sweet parts; SMUT MDNI: Praising, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected Sex, Dom Neteyam, reader not totally submissive a little rude but loving, hickeys, multiple orgasms?, Explicit content.
Lenght : 9.3k
Notes : This was supposed to come out on June 27, my birthday, but my friends have kidnapped me these days to go out. I hope you like this one shot, I really wanted to write it because I always liked the idea of the Albino reader, so with a diversity that I could adapt to some sentences about the moon (my beloved).
NETEYAM: 20 y.o / Y/N: 19 y.o
NA'VI WORDS : OARE: Moon ; YAWNE: Beloved ; TSMUKE: Sister
· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·
The elders told the clans that the sons of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. Therefore, these newborns were raised alongside the Tsahìk, so as never to lose their bond with the Great Mother.
The day your mother announced her pregnancy to the Metkayina clan was a joyful day, the clan congratulated her and blessed her maternal womb, knowing all the pitfalls she had been through and for her unfortunate infertility. Ronal was the most joyous, knowing that her sister had waited so many cycles before having you. You were a miracle, the whole clan thought that when they saw your mother, thinking that Eywa had blessed her for her infinite goodness.
Nine months later you were born in the water, because Tsahìk had a vision of your birth in the gentle waves of the ocean that surrounded the island of Awa'atlu. Unfortunately, like the sea, your mother’s labor was stormy, leading Ronal to think that she could not give birth to you.
"Sister, you’re losing a lot of blood… The only way is to save only one of you" Ronal said in tears, as he found a way to save both. "If you keep pushing, you’ll tear your body apart, ma Sorewn-" your mother stopped her before she screamed in pain. "My baby… Save.her!" She said with all her strength in her body as she squeezed her sister’s hand, looking at her displeased as the water seemed so icy around her and the sand so rough. After minutes that seemed like hours, you came to light, the warm waters welcomed your warm body that reflected the colors of the eclipse.
"Is she okay? Ronal… is my daughter okay?" These were the desperate worries of a mother who was giving her life to give it to her daughter. "She’s fine, ma tsmuke…" Ronal whispered with sadness, knowing that soon her only sister would be gone.
Your mother looked for your body, clutching it weakly as she looked at you with love "y/n… This is her name, sweet breeze… and moonlight, she’s beautiful, isn’t she…?" Sorewn died shortly after uttering, dropping her lifeless body on the sand, but holding your little body still warm, as if she wanted to protect you until her last breath.
Ronal’s screams were desperate as she took you flickering from your mother’s cold arms, allowing herself to cry on her body, knowing that her only sister would never wake up from that eternal sleep again.
The day of your birth was less joyful than the day when your mother’s pregnancy became known, even though the slight joy of knowing that the firstborn of the sister of the Tsahìk was alive and well. But the emotion and joy of the clan ceased to exist when people saw you, the white skin like pearls that were at sea, but associated with the typical complexion of the sky demons.
"She’s cursed," "a demon…", "Look at her skin." Similar murmurs struck the mourning Tsahik’s ears, who in response growled against the clan, silencing them as she continued her walk to her Mauri.
From that day on, nineteen years passed, Ronal raised you as her daughter, never stopping to talk about how much your mother loved you and how you were blessed by Eywa despite your white skin, loving you in the way Sorewn would. Your aunt often told you that you were special, that there were other people like you and it was the Great Mother herself who sent you, trying not to make you feel different from others.
Unfortunately, the sweet words of the Tsahìk didn’t help much, especially because of the children of the clan they used to tease and bully you when you were still a child, not stopping even when you grew up. "Daughter of demons", "Demon", "Cursed Blood" that’s what they told you, and slowly you began to identify yourself in the same way.
The only friends you had were Ao'Nung, Tsireya and Rotxo, the first two because they grew up together with you, while Rotxo respected Ao'Nung and your family too much to offend you, so he became attached like a brother. Ao'Nung and Rotxo often found themselves defending you from the village boys, and Tsireya did the same with the girls, even though she was younger than you.
You were often teased because of your sensitivity to the sun, caused by your albino skin, and because you could only get out after the eclipse, raising suspicions and rumors that you were really something like sky demons. For this reason you spent your days in the marui, distancing yourself from the world that seemed not to want to accept you, hiding you from evil languages and from those who just wanted to hurt you.
It was a morning like any other on the island of Awa'atlu, the two suns that blessed the beaches with their warmth, the children who rejoiced and ran to feed the Ilus, the screams of fishermen and hunters who called to bring the fish to the clan. But you didn’t participate in such activities, your task was to follow the Tsahìk and help her in everything she did, you were not the Tsakarem, but you were always told that you were special, that your connection with Eywa is stronger than any other. Therefore, just like today, your days took place inside the Marui of Ronal, while you helped her with some herbs and medicines that might have been useful.
The tranquility of the village was interrupted by some strange screams of call, and strong steps running on the sand to head to what was 'the entrance' of the clan, you heard some tribal screams and curiosity pervaded you.
"Ma parultysip, what’s going on?" asked Ronal, rising from the ground, to approach you who had looked at the door.
"Ma Tsahìk! Be careful, you are still in the first cycle of pregnancy…" yYou said, stand by the door, then walk up to Ronal and accompany her. " Foreigners… They arrived with Ikran from the sky" You didn’t finish talking that the matriarch rushed right where the foreigners had landed. You followed her both out of curiosity and to take care of her.
Once you arrived at the place, Ronal made room in the crowd that opened around her, you found Tonowari already standing to welcome the strange blue-skinned Na'vi. In the distance you noticed Tsireya, Ao'Nung and Rotxo, and you tried to understand the situation as you looked at them, Tsireya’s eyes made you realize that she was at least as unaware as you. Your eyes were immediately captured by those of one of the newly arrived boys, his eyes yellow as the suns, with some green reflection, long braided hair, a confident headshell and a body hard to miss. You also noticed the battle band wrapping around his abdomen, letting you know he was definitely a warrior. You were out of breath for a few seconds while you were studying him from afar, noticing that he also did not look away from you, intrigued by something, perhaps even enchanted. Your heart started beating faster, almost out of control. The butterflies in your stomach woke up, creating a strong tingling that spread into your body. The cheeks that were colored with a tender blush, betraying your expression.
You hid in the crowd, feeling insecure for a moment, thinking that that boy was looking at you because of the color of your skin and hair so different from others. Only to disappear because of the sun’s rays that were burning your sensitive skin, while Neteyam was looking for you with his eyes, trying to figure out where you had gone, fearing he had put you in awe.
The day passed quickly and you never saw that boy again, yet you knew that both he and his family would stay on the island, and that gave you a strange sense of comfort.
"Y/n! Y/n! You had to come with us to help the newcomers. Their children are very kind indeed and-" Tsireya said once she joined the part of the marui that she shared with you, still sticking to the main marui of the family.
"And? Let me guess, you like the younger one?" You joked, then noticed her blush and embarrassment as she hid behind her curly hair. "Oh ma Eywa… do you like the blue guy!?" You said laughing and then feeling Tsireya’s body on yours, trying to shut you up while you laughed.
"Y-y/n! Stop it! I-I" You stopped her still laughing. "C'mon, Tsireya, you’re 18, it’s normal to have a crush. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at each other, his 'hey' and your chuckle. It was so obvious" She looked at you red again and then laughed with you.
"I was so obvious?" she asked, sitting next to you on the carpet. "Too obvious, ma tsmuke" replied smiling and then hearing everything she had to say about that strange family, assimilating all that information as she spoke with dreamy eyes.
"Oh, and I’ll be teaching the Sullys, the younger ones, of course… along with Rotxo and Aonung, but they don’t like the idea like I do. You should help me, those two idiots would be able to ruin everything and fight with them" You watched her take your hands.
"Oh… I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean… No. I have to be with Ronal, plus-"
"You’re afraid they’ll criticize you for your skin, aren’t you?" she interrupted, understanding where your fear and insecurity were. "They don’t seem like the kind of people who would. You know, Neteyam and Lo'ak said that Kiri is a bit like you too, she is also connected to Eywa" you looked at her slightly uncertain and then heard the name of that 'Neteyam' echoing in your head with some interest.
"Neteyam?" you asked more about this person’s name than her whole sentence. You knew Lo'ak was that kind of Tsireya's crush, so if the math was right, Neteyam must have been the guy you made eye contact with.
"Yeah, he’s the biggest Sully, maybe you saw him. He was the one with the warrior belt and the purple loincloth… Long hair, tall, you know, right? The one who looked down at Ronal while she caught Lo'ak’s tail and hands" you blushed slightly and nodded, only whispering a subtle "Oh… yes, maybe I understood"
Tsireya looked at you weirdly and then looked at you surprised and smiled with emotion. "Oh! DO you like him?" She cheered, making you blush in the same way you did with her. "N-No! It was an 'Oh' to say 'Yes, I get it'. I mean, you get it. Not an 'Oh… that na'vi with hypnotic eyes', you know?" You started stammering and scrambling to escape that. "You never said 'oh' like that and then 'hypnotic eyes'. I'm screaming! You’re so clumsy now" Continued Tsireya, teasing you, then stopping when you close her mouth with your hand. "Think of Lo'ak! Girl, he rizzed you with an 'hey' and a smirk" you had taken it down playfully, just to change the speech. You continued on the same line until you fell asleep.
The next morning you woke up without Tsireya, realizing that she had definitely gone to give lessons to the newcomers, while you spent time with the Tsahìk, peeping every once in a while from the window of your aunt’s Mauri. "Y/n, focus" Ronal said, bringing your attention to her, "Yes, sorry, auntie" you whispered, and then you concentrated and watched her handle some medicines.
After a few hours you remained alone in the marui, since Ronal had to leave for commitments with Tonowari. Unfortunately, when you came to the window again, the boys were gone, so you dedicated yourself to classifying and arranging the herbs you had used for the lesson with the Tsahìk. Now that Tsireya was busy teaching the young Sullys, the lessons with Ronal had become heavier and more boring.
"Umh… is it allowed?" an strong unknown voice made you wince while you were behind, then turn around and see the guy from the day before. 'Neteyam', you remembered the name and looked at it while keeping your distance.
"Umh… yes, yes. If you were looking for the Tsahìk, she just left" Your voice was almost a whisper, because of your shyness.
"Oh, I understand. Emh, well, it’s because I needed something for superficial wounds." His voice was at least as warm as Pandora’s suns. He smiled at you slightly and you noticed the split lip leaking blood, and some scratches on his chest and bruises on his face.
"I’m just a student, but I-I could do something… sit there." You pointed to the carpet lying on the ground, and then you turned around and took some herbs to make something like a ointment. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, and you felt slightly uncomfortable, sure he had something to say about how you looked. You started mixing and grinding herbs with some liquid plant extracts, trying not to make you weigh his curious eyes. Not knowing he was admiring you enchanted.
"I am Neteyam anyway…" he began, interrupting the silence, trying to put you at ease.while his head leaned to the side to look for your look
"I know, you are the firstborn of the Toruk Makto and Neytiri of the Omatikaya clan" you whispered again with a thread of voice, without looking at him. " Your father’s title is great, all the clans know him…" continued you, hoping not to seem strange.
"Yeah, it is… What’s your name?" he asked as she approached, stopping when she noticed you drifted away slightly.
"Y/n. just y/n" You answered and then looked at him for a second, before you approached him cleaning the dried blood with a cloth, and then put the natural ointment on his wounds, feeling him wince slightly. "I'm sorry, it burns a little, it has some nettle plants inside it" Your heart began to beat more and more in your chest, noticing how his eyes did not fit even for a second from your face. He wasn’t looking at you like the other kids did, they were sincere and innocent eyes, slightly curious but definitely without malice.
"y/n? is a beautiful name, does it mean anything?" he asked curiously, lowering his voice just like you did.
"Gentle breeze and moonlight, so I've been told." You continued to whisper as you applied the ointment to his lip, keeping your eyes fixed on his lips, finding them strangely inviting.
"It’s definitely a name that suits you," he whispered, making you blush slightly before leaving.
"Why are you whispering…?" you asked to change the subject, trying to cool the fire that was happening on your pale cheeks.
"Because you do, too, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my tone of voice being too loud, so I turn it down" he said sincerely, as his eyes continued to explore your whole person.
"O-oh… no need to do it, i-it’s just my tone," you admitted a little embarrassed.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked nicely, always keeping his tone down, noting how you felt a little more comfortable with him.
"Umh, sure, tell me so" you wiped your dirty fingers from the ointment you just put on his torn skin.
"It’s just… well, your skin is-" you stiffened to those words, moving even further away from him as you stopped him from saying anything else.
"I know what you’re going to say… please, can you leave? I finished with the ointment, you should be better in a short time" your voice let shine a veil of fear and discomfort, making him feel a total idiot for having started talking.
"No, it’s nothing bad, i swear… your skin is beautiful, you are beautiful. I mean… ah!" He passed a hand in his hair, embarrassed to feel so clumsy right now. "I mean… you’re very beautiful, that’s…" he whispered in an even lower tone, making you blush.
You looked at Neteyam with flaming cheeks, while your hands were joined at heart level, observing him in silence. 'Does he find me… beautiful?' you asked yourself in your mind.
Your heart bounced through your chest as the boy’s kind words rang out in your incredulous ears. The insecurity that you always felt about your skin and appearance seemed to fade away for a moment, and a shy smile spread across your lips. That insecurity, however, gave way to a strange emotion: joy. A spark of happiness crossed your face for the first time, and his eyes lit up. You felt a feeling of warmth spreading through your chest, as if your heart was about to explode with gratitude. You felt seen and appreciated, and that created an intimate bond with the guy who gave you that unexpected compliment.
"Oh…" you whispered, finding no other words. Your mind began to sow doubts, making you wonder if the boy is serious or if it is just a way to joke, just as other had done in the past. The fear of being teased or misunderstood the boy’s intentions made its way into your mind, momentarily clouding the joy you felt. This Neteyam noticed it because of that light that went out with the same speed as it went on.
"Sorry… I’m just not good with words. But I think you’re really very beautiful, but I think that’s something everyone tells you, so you probably think I'm just one of many idiots… Then I go, I don’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable than I have already done" Neteyam smiled at you shyly as he stood up to leave as you had asked him.
"N-no… they don’t tell me often." You whispered before you stopped him by taking his wrist. He turned to look you in the eye, smiling slightly as he felt your soft touch around his skin.
"Uh no? Too bad, you are the most beautiful Na'vi I have seen so far" you swallowed to his words and smiled shyly, feeling again warmth on the cheeks. You took your hand off his wrist and handed him a small jar covered with a cloth that served as a lid. "Use it before going to sleep and in the morning, it should accelerate the healing process of the wounds" He smiled noticing the shy smile you had made him and carefully took the vase from your hands.
"Thank you-" Before he could finish the sentence, Ao'Nung and Rotxo also entered the Mauri, who were in a bad way, worse than Neteyam.
"What… did you fight each other? Again?" you supposed, approaching Rotxo touching his face, slightly stroking his broken and bleeding cheekbone, passing your hand over his chest. Neteyam looked at you feeling a sense of jealousy being born in him, not yet knowing that Rotxo was just a close family friend, and that you saw him as a brother.
The boy began to talk with your cousin, being silenced immediately thanks to a nod of your hand, making him understand that they had to shut up. "Not a word. Sit there, right now." you said with a slightly more authoritative voice, making the two boys sit down. Neteyam looked at you mesmerized for a second and then took leave with a formal greeting that you reciprocated.
From that first encounter your life was in love crossed with that of Neteyam, he became your good friend and began to discover every little part of you, always interested. He knew you couldn’t stay in the sun too much and often asked you out for a walk or a swim when the eclipse was already in phase, and when he saw you during the sunny hours, he always tried to find a place in the shade for you. If you were sunburning your skin, he had learned to apply a ointment that Ronal always kept available in case the children or you needed it. He knew that your eyesight was poor because of albinism and that you were particularly sensitive to the great sources of light, and even in this case he made sure to shade you with his hands. In addition to these small things that inevitably led you to have a crush on him, the thing that unfortunately led you to spend more time together was the fact that you never back down to fight with anyone who offended you or teased you, therefore it had become a secure presence in the Tsahìk’s Marui.
During that day’s eclipse, as was increasingly the case, Neteyam looked out the window of your part of the marui. "Pss. Ma Oare, do you want to take a ride to the beach?" he asked you gently, making you wince with fright. "Ma 'teyam, one day you’ll make me die doing this" you said, blushing, making him laugh playfully. "I missed you, today I didn’t see you at all" his tragic voice made you laugh innocently, while hiding your smile with your fingers.
"But if you came to pick up Tsireya here this morning, and I greeted you." You replied, still laughing, while Neteyam made sweet eyes at you, not knowing that behind these same eyes there was a deep enchantment for you.
"It’s not the same, come on. Just an hour, then I promise to let you go." He gave you his hand, inviting you to follow him.
"You always say that and then I come home at dawn or when the stars almost finish their cycle with the moons." He laughed at your words nodding, knowing it was true.
"I promise, if you want to go home, I’ll bring you back myself. Just for today, please, ma Oare." You looked him in the eye for a few seconds, before smiling gently and nodding.
"Just because I want to collect new shells, not for you." To your words he smiled, content to be just a walking companion for you.
He waited for you outside the marui, giving you time to change and settle, knowing how insecure you were about your appearance. What you didn’t know was that he always found you charming and perfect, no matter what your hair or clothes were like that day, his eyes in love would always be enchanted by you. When you came down from your home, he was stunned, watching you without speaking, taking some deep breaths before blushing slightly and scratching his neck.
"What’s wrong? Are you okay?" you asked Neteyam, laughing, as you approached him, holding the small bag you used when you went to collect objects or herbs.
Then you start walking towards the beach, while you pick up some shells and beads that were on the shore or in the still warm sand. Neteyam undertook to look for the most beautiful objects to give to you, knowing that your eyesight was not very good and perhaps you would not notice them, inspecting the most perfect shells and the brightest and most colorful beads. He usually hated doing these things, categorically avoiding accompanying his beloved sister Tuk to collect items for jewelry, following her only when she was about to cry or when his sense of elder brother was turned on and worried about the safety of little Tuktirey.
With you was different, he was content to help you and follow you, really trying to find only the best and then give it to you, because he loved to see your shy smile when you saw the small objects he brought you.
Neteyam remained silent, picking up some shells behind you, watching you from time to time, and then finding you both sitting exhausted on wet sand. You soaked your feet in water as you squinted your eyes and bent your head back to watch the sky greet the end of the eclipse, taking long deep breaths, not noticing Neteyam’s eyes on you.
In his eyes, one could perceive a deep admiration. Observe your features with a mixture of awe and respect, while you look up at the stars, reflecting their own light on your skin. He saw your inner and outer beauty, silently loving everything you did; recording in his mind every detail, even the smallest, making it the main object of his attention, as if he wanted to imprint it in his memory. If only you had looked at him, you would have understood how much love he wanted to give you, if only you had understood that his attentions were not only in friendship, the way he took care of you and protected you, all because he had a deep interest in you.
There was also a touch of desire in his eyes, and he was slightly ashamed of that, because he saw you as a pure being. His eyes moved on you with a slight intensity, as if he wanted to discover every aspect of you, even the most hidden, where you hid your desires. His looks lingered on your lips while you were breathing, your eyes turned to the sea or the stars, or any part of you that fascinated him. It was a kind desire, born from the desire to know and approach a person like you that makes his heart beat. He cursed himself when his thoughts were lost in thinking about how nice it would be to have you, to feel your warm skin shaped by his fingers, your whimpers, whiny breaths, and your lips that seemed ever more soft and inviting.
However, the boy made an effort to hide his emotions, keeping a discreet and respectful look at you, because you deserved to be respected. And when your eyes met his, it might seem like he was just looking at randomly, with no particular interest, but underneath that mask was a whirlwind of feelings that kept him awake at night.
"Your father is from one of those stars, isn’t he?" you asked, pointing at some stars that shone less than others. Neteyam’s hand met yours and moved it to a blue star, slightly blurry.
"There, my father comes from there. It’s called earth, it’s a planet like Jupiter, not a star, ma oare." He said, smiling softly, while his hand remained wrapped towards yours, to show you the exact spot of that planet. You looked away from him to the point he was pointing with your hand.
"Earth… what a strange name" you whispered, slightly laughing, observing the strange planet. " Blue? Does that mean it’s full of water, 'Teyam?"
"My father says that once upon a time there were great forests, like those of the Omatikaya clan, but the people of the earth destroyed everything, letting the land die and be covered with water. It is now filled with large iron structures above sea level" he replied, not looking away from your face, noting your slightly glassy eyes.
"Once upon a time? Why would those people do that to their Mother? Eywa would cry if she knew that one of her sisters was treated this way." Your voice was bitter and you tried not to cry at the thought of constructions that replaced the beautiful forests and went to ruin marine life in that way.
Neteyam looked at you with a soft smile, you were so beautiful when you became emotional about things like that, they showed him even more how beautiful and pure your soul was. "Ma oare, don’t think about it. Unfortunately it’s another culture, they didn’t have the same connection that we have with Eywa. For that matter, they all spoke different languages and often fought each other. There is no peace in their soul, because they never approached their Great Mother" You leaned on his shoulder, nodding as he gently stroked your white hair.
"I don’t even want to imagine all that pain… it’s good that your father found peace between us" you whispered, only to feel the little shiver that ran through Neteyam’s skin when you leaned on him.
"Don’t imagine it, think that you live in a place where the Great Mother sees us and protects us…and that you are one of her favorite" he said, as he wrapped an arm around your body, sighing with relief in silence, realizing that you didn’t mind his touch.
Your eyes suddenly stared at him with a fascinating curiosity, as if they wanted to discover every detail of his being. The look was tender, intense and deep, despite being shy and lascivious. All the sun you couldn't take for obvious reasons, he imprisoned it and brought it to you, warming your heart and all your body, cheering up even your darkest days. Despite the great crush on him, you hid your feelings, keeping your eyes discreet and delicate, trying not to reveal too much your true feelings for fear of being misunderstood or rejected even by the only person who understood you so deeply. Whenever your gaze fell on him, you did so with an intense desire to make him understand how special he is to you, hoping to be reciprocated.
Unwittingly you were both waiting for each other, hoping that one of you would come forward first, sharing the same fear. But Neteyam’s heart was beginning to weigh more, after all those months of repressing every single feeling outside of friendship, convinced that you were destined to Rotxo.
"Y/n… May I ask you something?" Neteyam asked suddenly, drawing your attention. You nodded kindly, waiting for his question. "I’ve been here for months, and all the young Na'vi have mated with their mates, I was wondering when you would do it with…Rotxo" An innocent laugh ran from your lips, making your nose curl, while Neteyam watched you not understanding the reason for your laugh.
"Oh, ma Eywa… what makes you think I’ll mate with Rotxo?" you asked with tears in your eyes, caused by loud laughter.
"Well… I-I mean, I’ve seen you guys together all the time, during the meetings at the bonfire he is always near you, plus he brings you food and follows you around… Spending time in the marui where you spend your time" he replied embarrassed as he looked away.
"Yes, because his mother was my mother’s best friend, we grew up together. He is a brother to me, he does what Ao'Nung also does, he takes care of me but we are not paired. For Eywa's sake" Your voice was still amused, not knowing that in the same tone you brought the hope he needed. "Rotxo have a crush on Kiri, don’t you see him looking at her or buzzing around her? It just seemed so obvious. I’m not paired with anyone, my skin is cursed, it scares. The clan thinks I’m descended from one of the sky demons." You whispered as your tone went from amused to sad. You leaned against him again, to avoid his gaze. "I am not a good match for anyone, besides with all my problems inherent in my sensitivity to the sun, people increase rumors about my birth. My mother died in childbirth because of me, while my father ran away immediately after seeing me for the first time." You sighed sadly and then put on a fake smile when you noticed Neteyam’s eyes sorry for you. "Don’t look at me like that. The tsahìk says that I am descended from Eywa herself, so I will give my life to her, no matter if I am not paired. It’s a good thing, I’ll be a woman free from any restraint," you tried to cheer him up, despite your eyes pointing down with a little sadness...?
Neteyam laid a finger under your chin, gently lifting your face, bringing your eyes together "Y/n, listen to me… You are beautiful, full of light both inside and out. Your skin is not cursed, don't think it even for a moment. It's shining just like you, isn’t there one thing about you that might be vaguely similar to that of the sky demons. Ma Eywa… but have you seen yourself? You’re unique, radiant, just perfect. Only a fool would not want to mate with you, they're blind because you are dressed in stars, under your skin the moon lives, believe me, ma oare. You are pure light" Your eyes were enchanted and chained to his, unable to speak. "They should be grateful that Eywa blessed them by sending one of her stars to walk among us. Why can’t you see how damn beautiful you are? You’re so intoxicated with those fake words you can’t even see… Why can’t you see how I fall apart when you look at me with those eyes? Don’t you feel my heart losing beats every time you smile or laugh? Don’t you understand how you can mesmerize me with every single thing you do? Ma Eywa, I would give anything even what I don’t have, just to have you… Can’t you see how much I’m in love with you…?" His loving gaze was a mix of sweetness, desire, adoration and frustration, a subtle invitation to discover and reciprocate those feelings that had come out without him wanting it. Didn’t realize he’d just confessed.
You had spent days and nights fantasizing about possibilities, dreaming about the moment when he would finally find the courage to open up, or when you would. And now, that long-awaited moment had come. Your heart pounded as you listened to the words coming out of the lips of the Na'vi you liked.
A myriad of emotions poured into you like an overwhelming wave. Initially, the surprise took over, as the confidence of the boy had exceeded all expectations, noticing only after the fact that he was not done it on purpose. Then, like a fire that lights up slowly, the euphoria spread into your being. You could not help but smile, feeling an indescribable joy pervade you. Finally, the confirmation that Neteyam had feelings for you, that they weren’t just dreams for you, that your feelings were reciprocated, was a tangible reality now. That uncertainty that tormented you had been dispelled, leaving room for an unprecedented feeling of happiness.
"Neteyam…" you whispered without a voice, and then you saw his jaw stretched out, because he felt like an idiot for saying that.
"Y/n. I-" his voice was full of insecurities, but you could silence him by pressing your lips on his. When your lips touched, a shiver of emotion went through both of you. The feeling was electric, intense and extraordinarily sweet. Before you completely surrender to the kiss, forgetting all that was surrounding you at that moment. Your hands, uncertain before, intertwined gently, seeking support and confirmation of the authenticity of that moment. As your bodies drew closer, they could hear each other’s heartbeats in tune with their own. The fingers of your free hand lay timidly on his neck, while his around your waist. His tail intertwined with yours, wrapping it gently.
Time seemed to suspend, and every other worry or doubt vanished into the irresistible and desperate kiss. The lips moved with grace and passion, needing to be consumed, exploring the unknown and revealing an attraction that had always burned beneath the surface of 'friendship'.
"I waited so long for this…" you whispered, once detached from the kiss, still feeling Neteyam’s warm arm around your body. You looked into each other’s eyes, smiling with dignity, knowing that from that moment on you would walk together, hand in hand, towards a future they had only dared to dream of in their own little.
"I thought you weren’t interested…" You two said at the same time, and then looked at yourself with a mix of shock and disbelief. " I was sending you signals" "I was so obvious!" you said together again, laughing at the synchronized timing.
"Signs? You did not send me signals, and if you did, they were confused, ma Oare," said Neteyam, stroking your hair and moving a lock of hair behind your ear.
"Me? Mixed signals? You weren’t obvious at all. I thought it was just affection, just like with Tsireya, ma 'Teyam." You whispered shyly, before looking down and feeling his finger under your chin again that made you raise your head.
"Y/n, really? Why do you think I took so much care of you? I’ve liked you since day one, ever since I saw you in the crowd, emanating that beautiful light that represents you" He said, looking at you gently, touching your noses. "And all those compliments… Do all the things you asked me to, to accompany you everywhere, I was making you understand that I was choosing you" You blushed, curling your nose.
"Why didn’t you tell me before?" he laughed softly at your question.
"I thought you were paired with Rotxo, and I was afraid I wasn’t to your taste. It would have been enough just to be your friend, if it had been so. But the fact that you belittle yourself and say you’ll never find a partner makes my blood boil again. Because I am here, waiting for you to see me…" his hand slipped on the back of your neck and approached you again to him. "…that you choose me" he whispered on your lips, as his eyes peered at you.
"I-I’ve already chosen you… and I was hoping you’d choose me" you said, whispering, loving that he didn’t use the same tone he used with others with you. Remembering you hated loud noises because of hearing sensitivity.
"I see you, ma Oare," he said, stroking the back of your head. "I see you, ma 'Teeyam" you replied gently. Your eyes stuck on his and then you join again in a kiss.
This time it was more passionate, more carnal. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your warmth and appropriating your soft flesh as he pulled you over his legs. Shudder at the direct contact with his skin, placing your hands on his neck, clinging to him like a life saver in the middle of the ocean. Neteyam’s tail, though slimmer than yours, wrapped yours with impressive ease, locking it against the sand, making you squeak into his mouth.
Your hands went down his chest, colliding with his sculpted body just as the waves were crashing into the banks around you. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, feeling the need to feel more, to get more out of him. He hoarsely panted inside your mouth, making you smile as you collided your pelvis with his, crawling with little innocence your body on him.
"Ma Eywa… If you keep this up, I don’t know if I can control myself, ma Yawne," he said in an exasperated voice when the kiss stopped.
"I don’t want you to control yourself, 'Teyam… I want to feel you" you bent over his ear to whisper those words, making him more excited than he thought. The way he had imagined this scenario was slightly different, thinking that you were chaste, pure and innocent, but now you were revealing yourself quite differently. A hidden part of you that only he would ever see, and that turned him on.
Neteyam turned his face towards you, again meeting your eyes with curiosity. He bit his lip when he noticed your eyes full of desire. "Hmhm, not here… It’s not the right place, ma yawne." He said first to drop his gaze on your lips and then down to your collarbones, passing his tongue on his lip.
"I want you now, 'Teyam… so much" Your words were needy and eager, you whined before approaching his neck, leaving some kisses and hickeys on the boy’s sensitive skin, making him grunt for pleasure.
Neteyam shivered when you broke away from him, enjoying the sensation of your saliva on his neck. Your pelvis collided again with his, swinging back and forth over his covered intimacy, feeling already so wet and in need of him. "Ma yawne…" he sighed frustrated as his head bent backwards.
The boy’s hands ended up behind his body, supporting his body thanks to the support on the sand, unbalancing himself backwards and contracting his muscles. Your hand landed on his chest, arched your back to press your chest against the boy’s. "Don’t you want me?" You whispered as your lips began a path down his chest, causing him chills. You were tempting him, and he knew it, but he was trying to resist you because he wanted to take you someplace more private, and gently proceed with the act. But it seemed so complicated to him to resist you, while you warmed his cock so needy of him and laid your warm lips all over his body "I need you so much, now" you whispered before passing your tongue over the beginning of his abs. Your hips continued to rub against his, making him feel your needy intimacy and leaving wet spots on his loincloth, not helping him to repress the erection that was being created between his legs.
"Shit! ma yawne…" His hoarse, frustrated voice made you smile maliciously. Your hand fell to the height of his loincloth, starting to play with the top, teasing his skin.
"Please~" Your voice and your movements were damning him, but the way your eyes looked at him now, those were enough to make him feel stiff beneath you.
Neteyam approached you, taking you gently from your neck and then turning your head so that it spoke to your ear.
"Do you know how to do that, baby?" his desperate and eager voice made you shudder as you squinted. " No…" you whispered before biting your lip.
At that moment you felt Neteyam’s other hand resting on your loincloth, casually moving it to the side, rubbing your warm fingers on your pulsating and needy intimacy, feeling already wet for him. " Oh, you’re already so wet for me? what a good girl" He teased you. Your hands grabbed behind him, feeling the first chills creeping up your back, a heat blazing over your lower abdomen and the desperate need to feel something more. You started riding his fingers clumsily, panting for pleasure, carrying your forehead on his shoulder. "Hmhm… that’s right, move your hips more slowly, ma yawne. I am here for you" His voice clashes with your neck, feeling you are even more needy for him, still following the advice he gave you.
Neteyam after a few minutes, took his fingers out of your intimacy, savoring your juice with pleasure.
"You are so sweet even between your legs" You blushed at his compliment, then feel the boy’s hands open your legs and letting them spread over him. One of his hands accompanied you as you sat on his ready-made cock, the red tip and the side vein pulsing with desire. "Slowly…yes, so it’s perfect, baby…oh shit." he said as you came down with a mind-blowing ease on his cock. You only had to stop a couple of times before you took it all, feeling already so full and tired on him, his cock was throbbing inside you, sending electric shocks up your soft and sensitive inner walls.
You whimped over his cock, holding you firmly on his shoulders as your fingernails stuck into his flesh. He admired you, he felt so good inside you, wet and hot while some internal spasms squeezed his cock making him moan with pleasure. His pupils dilated when he noticed your red face and how you looked like a mess right away: your eyes closed but so relaxed because of the pleasure of the new presence, your half-open mouth gasping and trying to welcome as much air as possible, panting so as to hit Neteyam’s ears too careful. It was his definition of heaven, seeing you so fragile and needy of him, it only excited him more.
"You needed me, right? Now ride, ma sa'nutsyìp" His voice contained some mocking tones, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to move right away, but at the same time he was warm and flirty. "I-I can’t…" you sighed, trying to move on his cock, feeling already too much pleasure for small movements. Neteyam’s hands wrapped around your hips, showing you how to ride his cock, enjoying every second of your twitching and whining due to the movements. You didn’t understand if you were feeling him on your stomach or it was just your impression, but you knew that some tears of pleasure turned your sweet face.
Neteyam’s tongue took a few salty drops from your eyes, moaning with satisfaction. Your soft thighs felt so heavy and tired as you rolled over his hot dick, it was hitting the right spots so well. Neteyam’s hands stopped helping you with the motionless, remaining only to guide you from time to time.
Your moans mingled with the sea breeze, the noise of your bodies colliding were muffled by the waves that seemed to get louder and louder, while the faint night light illuminated only slightly your bodies, making the bioluminescent freckles shine in the dark. You felt Neteyam’s soft lips mark your body, listening to your choking moans and whining as your hips clashed vehemently against his cock, trying to get as much pleasure from that warmth that seemed to flare up with eyes pop of skin. You started to tighten his cock with your walls once you felt more confident, making him moan with pleasure and making his grip on your hips tighter.
"Keep it up… you’re doing so well, ma yawne" his voice was broken with pleasure, it excited you to hear him praise you like this, you felt so well above him, with his hands clasping your body, while your nails scratched and pulled the skin of his body. Your legs started shaking, suddenly feeling all your weight, but you couldn’t stop looking for pleasure.
Neteyam put his hands behind your back, making you lie on the sand, with the water that you wet your hair, at that moment he had to get out of your now red pussy and more and more eager. "You were so good, let me take care of you now" he whispered, leaning over your ear, keeping your legs open before grinding his erection between your folds, entering only with the tip, making you whine and pant, eager to feel his presence again. "How much do you want me?" You bit your lip, hearing his words almost growling at you, just feeling more excited. "So much… please" you meowed in heat, eyes still full of tears. Neteyam smiled and then put his weight on his knees, sliding his strong hands along the line of your thighs spread apart to your torso, causing small electric shocks all over your body. One hand stood around your neck, caressing your sensitive skin and pressing lightly, while the other stood around your jaw, pushing his thumb between your lips.
You took his finger between your lips, started sucking and licking it, making him smile as you looked at him with eyes clouded with lust, gently mumbling before it entered you with a single push. Your breath missed to feel its entire length come back in a single blow, arching your back upwards, while a soft groan came out of your throat, and some tears of pleasure came out of your eyes that rolled backwards right after.
He began to grind inside you with a heartbreaking slowness, as your legs tried to close for the too much pleasure it was giving you. "Keep your beautiful legs open for me, baby" Neteyam growled softly as he watched his face reddened and beamed with your fragile body around him.
Your vagina began to tighten and suck Neteyam’s dick, as if to encourage him to move and stop torturing you like this. The rapidity with which he stuck your hands over your head when she saw you were going to touch your clitoris was amazing. You missed his hand around your neck, but getting your hands locked over your head while he forced you to keep your legs open was another form of excitement. "Good girl" he said sensually, as he began to speed up the thrusts, hitting where you felt most needed, grunting when your walls welcomed him particularly well.
When he realized where your g-spot was, he started hammering continuously at that point as his tail let yours loose just to start tickling and stimulating your clitoris as you wished. Your little desperate screams and the way you moaned his name, crying again as an outlet for all the pleasure that accumulated in you.
The freckles in Neteyam’s chest made you bite your lip with frustration, wanting to touch every inch of his body, exciting you at every contraction of his chest or abdomen. You manage to slightly scratch his hands, until he twisted your fingers, gently tightening the grip, continuing the thrusts until you both reach the coveted orgasm. He poured into you with a hoarse and deep groan, catching in his mouth your orgasm, eating your lips with a passionate kiss. He left his grip on your hands and laid his own on the sides of your body, on the wet sand. Your hands scratched his back, dragging your fingers up to his shoulders, then latched onto his braids to find comfort after orgasm.
Your ogasm was still dripping on his dick, mixing with his hot cum, while he continued to sink and grind inside you, feeling as your already too sensitive walls welcomed him and warmed his dick even more. Your moaning and whining did nothing but excite Neteyam even more, who took you from hips and brought you back above him, letting your legs rest on the sides of his pelvis. The boy’s hands explored with adoration every inch of your body, helping you ride him again and give you the pleasure you wanted after orgasm, while one of his hands found place in your hair. He squeezed your grip and pulled them back slightly, just to get you off his lips, as a line of saliva joined you, his wet kisses fell down to your neck, where he immediately began to brand every clean inch of your skin again. "You look so beautiful with my marks on, ma oare"
You squinted, moving on his still-pounding dick. "Oh, my good girl" he whispered raucously, while his free hand went to caress your back, passing your fingertips all along your spine, making you shiver "You have no idea what you’re doing to me…" You didn’t understand why, but those words turned you on, and he knew you needed them, especially because you showed this pleasure by holding his dick.
Your breaths got heavier as your fluids lubed up for your hops, feeling better and better at rolling your hips over him as Neteyam moaned and growled because of the excessive pleasure you were giving yourself. You came to the point of cumming again, and again you didn’t move away from his cock, leaving it comfortably inside you as you sat on his chest.
You breathed hard on his chest, your face was still red and you let yourself be pampered by the arms of Neteyam and the delicacy in which he touched your hair or your overstimulated body. "You were so good, ma y/n" he whispered, accompanying his words to the sound of the sea waves. "Now you’re mine…" he said, leaving a sweet kiss on your head.
You closed your eyes, taking long breaths as you listened to his heartbeat against your ear, smiling softly. Your fingers were drawing on her chest, wanting to be stuck in that moment forever.
"Are you okay? Is everything okay, y/n?" he said, looking down at you, taking your hand and kissing your back, making you look up.
"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. That was great… I was just thinking," you stopped and bit your lip. " What were you thinking?" he asked nicely.
"Umh… well, now we are, I mean, emh.." you blushed as you searched for the right words and hid on his chest.
"Mate, I’m yours y/n. If you want me, I’m yours." His hand caressed your back, as he smiled kindly at you.
"M-mated? Are you serious? I mean, I like the idea, but aren’t you afraid that people will judge you? or-" he stopped you with a frustrated sigh.
"Hmhm,but we will make Tsaheylu in a more special, more romantic and perfect way, you deserve only the best. To be honest? I’m more afraid of losing you, no matter what they say about me. I’d like to hold you like this every day, make you smile like a child, make you feel loved like you deserve, protect you from everyone and take care of the splendor you are. And Eywa will forgive me, but I would like to hear forever those sweet sounds you make when I’m inside you. Hearing you call my name, seeing your most lustful side, feeling your hands digging into my skin and then seeing the results of our love on our skin. Let me be the person who will stand beside you for eternity," Neteyam said, caressing your body, letting you feel his warmth as you shuddered under his gentle touch.
"What if… what if our children come out cursed like me? They’ll go through what I’ve been through, don’t you mind having children different from others?" you asked with fear.
"If Eywa blesses us with beautiful children who look like you, I will love them the same, if not more. I would love our children regardless of their color, and teach them to love their particularities. One day they will find a person who, like me, has fallen in love with their inner and outer beauty" he said with confidence, making you laugh softly. "Seriously, they wouldn’t be cursed. You are not cursed, y/n, you are pure light and I am so honored to have you only for me" Your eyes met again.
"I love you, ma y/n. With all my heart and soul, and I'll make you love yourself, I promise you."
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Notes II:
I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I wanted to write it for a long time now and I’m glad I finally managed to write it. <3
TAG LIST (?): @riatesullironalite
-Mel
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆. ࿐࿔   .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚    
921 notes · View notes
rookthorne · 6 months
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Passion was something that both men did not lack, whether it be for their livelihood, or in their genuine love for what they held dear to their hearts. It should not have surprised you, however, that you would end up caught up in the middle of such a fiery storm you would forever know and call, the Pepper Predicament. 
Tumblr media
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖠺 Tattoo Artist!CW!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Steve Rogers
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖠺 1.1k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖠺 Fluff, crack, confessions
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𖠺 This is for @smutconnoisseur — I hope you love how I turned your idea into some of the best and funniest fluff I have ever written!
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𖠺 Something That I Want by Grace Potter
Tumblr media
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𖠺 @stuckybingo 𝗚𝟭 — Friends to Lovers —  Masterlist
Tumblr media
𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media
It had been a normal morning – business flowed as usual, and your customers beamed and left your shop with hearts full and hopes optimistic. There were sales on bouquets, stuffies, and even some of the art that lined the walls. 
Well, it had been a normal day. Up until the door burst open, startling you from your daydreaming haze at the front counter during a lull of customers. 
“I am tellin’ you! No, no, we are going to ask her.” There were heavy footsteps and then, Bucky appeared around a shelf, looking just as blustery and frustrated as a hurricane over the sea. “Petal, sweetheart,” he exclaimed upon seeing you.
Steve was laughing, his eyes bright with mirth as he gripped his husband’s hand and lazily strolling behind him. “Calm down,” he soothed, still chuckling. “It doesn’t matter, honey-”
“Like hell will I calm down,” Bucky snapped, and you blinked at his tone. The previous night, the time you had spent with them in the diner had been pleasant and calm – Bucky was not fired up like he was now. It looked like he was ready to blow his head and release a gale. “Petal–our darlin’ Petal, we have something you need to put to rest. This punk is fuckin’ loosin’ it, I swear.”
You stared between the two men, gobsmacked at their contrasting attitudes. “What on earth is going on?”
“What’s going on?” Steve repeated, shaking his head. “Well, you see, we got into a… Predicament, doll. Buck here thinks that a certain thing doesn’t exist and it’s not real, and he won’t hear no different.”
“I don’t-” You tried, standing from your stool to round the counter.
“That’s because they are not fuckin’ real,” Bucky interrupted fiercely, gesturing wildly with his hands. “You said this shit to get-” He made an angry noise in his throat and looked at you. “Are they real?”
“Before you blow your top,” you said slowly, hands raised. Bucky just made another discontented noise and Steve snorted a laugh; he had the decency to cover it with a cough. These boys, you laughed internally. “Is what real, Bucky?”
Steve’s hand moved to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder, and he said, “There are these peppers, you see, and they’re called Peter peppers. He doesn’t think they’re real.”
You could not take it. Bursting into laughter, you clutched your stomach and wheezed, tears immediately sprung to your waterline, and you heaved for breath. It was hysterical laughter, the kind that left you feeling lightheaded and absolutely struck speechless. 
“Oh my god, we’ve killed her,” Bucky said alarmed, eyes wide. His expression only sent you into another fit of laughter. “We’ve actually killed her–dammit, Steve.”
“Help!” you wheezed, almost sobbing with the laughter that wouldn’t cease.
“Breathe, doll,” Steve encouraged through his own laughter. He helped you back onto your stool and he rubbed your back, his hand going up and down your spine. “You’re good, just don’t pass out on us.”
“I won’t, I won’t,” you gasped, finally able to speak. Bucky looked spooked and you snorted before you could stop it, but you kept your composure. “Okay, alright–why is this something you’re discussing?”
The sheepish expression and pink flush on Bucky’s cheeks surprised you, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He looked down at his boots and murmured something that you didn’t catch. 
“You’re gonna need to be louder than that, honey,” Steve teased, and Bucky shot him a glare.
You watched Bucky take a deep breath, as though to steel himself, and then he quietly said, “I was lookin’ up flowers an’ shit, ‘cos I wanted to plant some for you, and they for some reason came up on the blog I found and I swear to god, they are not real. They’re ridiculous and then Steve wouldn’t shut up and kept insisting that they are actually real.” He looked at Steve with such a glint of accusation it was a marvel Steve didn’t melt into the floor. “Since when did you know about peppers, anyway?”
“Oh, Buck,” you said softly, hand over your heart. “You wanted to plant some flowers for me? Oh my gosh.”
Bucky nodded, shrugged, and looked at you. “You deserve somethin’ pretty, sweetheart.”
“Honey,” you cooed, getting off the stool to walk towards Bucky – Steve following close behind. Bucky’s hands were warm as you held them, and you kissed the back of them, a soft gesture that made the blush on his cheeks darken. “I’m a florist, you could have just asked me.”
“But I wanted it to be a surprise,” Bucky insisted, his voice still small. “Steve wanted to get some planters for our windows.”
You looked at Steve who didn’t look sheepish, rather, he looked proud. “‘Course I did. I want our shop to have something to remind us of our girl.”
“I haven’t even said yes, boys,” you reminded them, astounded at their devotion. “How can you feel comfortable doing such things-”
“Because we know what our hearts want.” The words that had left Bucky’s lips left you shell-shocked; unable to speak for the pang that went through your heart. They wanted you enough to even consider doing such a thing to their own haven. 
You had promised yourself you would take that plunge. Why not now?
“Well,” you sighed and grabbed Steve’s hand with one of your own, so you were holding both of them close. “Then I guess I better say that I feel like I want it, too.”
Bucky beamed, brighter than the sun, and Steve grinned, a genuine happiness radiating from his whole being. They pulled you close, hugging you tight for a few moments, when Steve pulled away first. 
“So, our clever Petal,” he began, and Bucky stiffened next to you. “Are they real–the Peter peppers?”
You winced, and you heard Bucky’s heavy exhale. “Don’t you dare-” He started, intent on cutting you off, but you put a finger over his lips to shush his protest. 
“They’re real, Buck–I’m so sorry.”
Steve cheered and Bucky grumbled, his disappointment evident in the furrow of his brows and pout of his lips. “Whose team are you on?” he wondered, staring at you with such an affronted expression that it was like you had just told him he could never draw again. 
“I am on my own team–one that knows all about floristry and peppers,” you teased, and you pulled your finger away. “Now, off you go, go brood to your husband over lunch.”
“So rude,” Bucky huffed, stomping off, Steve following close behind. 
Steve was the one to pause in the doorway, turning around to wave and call, “We’ll get you some lunch, doll!”
Before you could reply with an ascension, the door swung closed, and it was just you in your shop; heart racing and feeling like you were floating on cloud nine. “That’s that,” you whispered, and you placed a hand over your hammering heart. “That is that–I can’t wait.”
Tumblr media
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
414 notes · View notes
j3llyd0nut · 7 months
Text
All to You
ೀ Older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: A soft morning with Leon (or not).
Warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is in their 20s), oral (m&f receiving), pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel), accidentally made him c(h)orny here.
A/N: I was imagining id!Leon here but any older version of him works too! And also watch me disappear from the face of the earth after posting this. Feedbacks are appreciated!
Sabrina Claudio- All to you
Tumblr media
The room was bathed in a gentle, pleasant glow as the dawn's first rays slowly peaked through the drapes. Lying there, nestled in a sea of cotton sheets, you slowly became aware of a presence next to you: your lover, Leon. As your eyes landed on his serene face, which was illuminated by the soft morning light, a happy smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. It was rare to see him in this state, as usually his face would always be in a scowl.
His chest moved up and down in a rhythm that seemed to harmonize with the very essence of the room. You reached out and lightly touched his cheeks, caressing them with care as his eyelashes created delicate shadows on them. 
The small elements in your shared bedroom made it come to life: a vase of flowers on your bedside table that Leon brought home to you last night, whose fragrance blended with the aroma of your freshly washed bed sheets. A quiet sigh escaped from your lips as you shifted slightly and snuggled deeper under the covers.
You were awestruck by the openness and closeness of it all as you quietly observed him. The time seemed to stand still, and the world outside the window ceased to exist as both of you were trapped in a cocoon of shared dreams and early morning tranquility. Your heart was overflowing with affection and appreciation for the moment, and you pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead, his skin warm against your lips.
Your simple gesture made him rouse from his dreams; the feeling of grogginess disappeared in a fleeting moment as he felt the sensation of your feather-like kisses gracing his forehead. His eyelashes fluttered open, and his eyes were met with your warm gaze. From his forehead to his cheeks—and you didn’t forget his stubble jaw—your soft kisses followed a line of murmured promises, leaving a lingering warmth in his wake.
As Leon recognized what was happening—a lovely, dreamy awakening planned by the one who held his heart (you)—a gentle, dawning smile curved his lips. "Morning," he mumbled in a drowsy tone, having just stirred from slumber.
“Good morning, my love.”
You continued to press kisses on him; each gentle lip press conveyed stories of love and devotion that words could never express. The gentleness of your lips held a symphony of feelings—love, adoration, and a quiet vow to treasure every second both of you spent together.
As your lips continued their gentle exploration, his heart swelled with softness and gratitude for this stolen moment of intimacy. His whole life, he experienced pain and agony, but in this moment, he felt loved and cherished by you. By the sheer force of the affection that came from your lips, the lazy fog that had lingered in his mind was lifted.
"Someone is feeling affectionate today." Leon chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm and loving embrace. "I can’t help it; you looked adorable in the morning." It was Leon’s turn to launch a gentle assault of kisses on your face as he cradled it with his free hand. Fingers, warm and tender, traced the contours of your cheek. His touch was a silent reassurance, a wordless declaration of his presence and devotion to you too. "Only you would think I’m adorable, sweetheart." He hummed as the corner of his lips lifted into a smirk.
You let out a soft chuckle. "I’m glad I’m the only one who thinks that; I don’t want anyone else to steal you away from me." There was a hint of possessiveness and playfulness in your tone. "Don’t worry, sweetheart," His gaze locked with yours with a magnetic pull. "I am all yours, like you are mine." With a breathless pause, both of your lips met in a dance of longing and desire.
His rough hand trailed down underneath your shirt, which made you mumble into the kiss. This gave him the opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours in a language only both of you understood. One of your hands found solace in running through his dirty blonde locks, the silky strands—thanks to your shampoo—gliding between your fingers.
Leon’s body responds eagerly to your touch, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his own hands exploring the curves of your body. The loose fabric of your shirt provided little resistance as his fingertips brushed against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine.
You broke away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. “So, breakfast?” Your words hung in the air, a mix of desire and playfulness dancing in your voice. “Oh, I have a better idea than breakfast.” He replied with a smirk on his face, his voice low and husky. “Let me taste you, angel.”
Your thighs squeezed in anticipation and excitement as his words filled the air. Biting your bottom lip, you nodded and tried to remove the cover before Leon interrupted you. “No, no baby. I want you to sit on my face.” A mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked into your eyes.
His hands found their way to your hips, tugging the waistband of your underwear down. His touch sent another shiver down your spine. He lay on his back as he helped you straddle yourself above his eager face, your underwear long gone near the bedside. You lowered yourself onto his waiting mouth, feeling the warmth and wetness of his tongue as he began to explore you. The stubble on his jaw pricked your thighs, but you did not care as it added to the sensation.
His lips and tongue worked in sync, expertly pleasuring you, with each flick and swirl of his tongue driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. He let out a groan underneath you as you gripped his hair and brought his face closer to your core. You were a moaning mess as you rode his face, his hands gripping your hips firmly, which will surely leave a mark or two.
You surrendered yourself fully to the pleasure he provided, unable to contain your moans as they filled the room with the sound of his lips smacking and sucking against your slick folds, lapping up the essence like a dog. It was as if he had tapped into his most primal instincts, with his desire to taste and consume you evident in every motion.
As your orgasm finally washed over you, your body trembled with release. However, that did not stop Leon from continuing with his ministrations, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible—he puts your pleasure above his anytime of the day because he gets himself off by that. Only when your body was sated and trembling did he finally stop with his assault, a satisfied smile playing on his face. "Thanks for the breakfast, baby," he murmured against your thighs as he gave them a soft peck, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire.
His lips glistened with your own arousal, a visual reminder of the pleasure he had just bestowed upon you. Seeing him in that state made your desire still burn within you. With a coy smile, you leaned down closer, your breath hot against his ear. "My turn to taste you."
Suddenly, a tinge of dominance took hold of you. With a sensual yet comforting touch, you trailed your fingers along his bare chest, relishing the warmth of his skin. You could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your touch.
With a mixture of hunger and reverence, you gently tugged on the waistband of his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. It stood proudly before you. You took a moment to appreciate the sight—him as a whole, the way his face is flushed, and his hair cascading on the pillow. 
Seeing him in that state fueled your arousal, matching the rhythm of your intimate connection. Eyes hazy with desire, you finally took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. Pleasure surged through his veins, and his body responded eagerly to your skilled mouth. His hands found their way into your hair, gently guiding your movement.
Your mouth moved with a rhythm that drove him to the edge, exploring every inch of his length. The intense pleasure from your mouth and the way your touch grazed his inner thighs, his need to release growing with each passing moment.
"That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so good." He let out a loud groan as his body became tensed.
The way he praised you made your actions intensify, each movement becoming fervent to please him and make him feel good. It didn’t take long for him to spill himself into your mouth; the sensation was overwhelming and electrifying.
As he caught his breath, he leaned toward you, capturing your lips with his. His hands roamed your body, his touch possessive yet gentle as he explored every inch of your trembling form. Breaking away from the kiss with a low moan, he stared into your eyes, full of love and admiration. "Waffles or pancakes?" A soft chuckle escaped your lips in response to his question, "Waffles.”
680 notes · View notes
harrysbabycherry · 6 months
Text
santorini
Tumblr media
summary: luna and harry meet for the first time
7k words
warnings: none! harry is so funny though
a/n: i know that over again part two was supposed to be posted this week, but my brain wanted to write this instead!!!
neptune masterlist
main masterlist
The moon is full again. Which means that another twenty-nine and half days have passed since the last. Another full month of loneliness. The sea is still on this warm, June evening. It looks calm, nothing at the surface would give away what is going on beneath. 
The mortals on the above land are so painfully clueless. No one has seen a god in the flesh in hundreds of years, but does that mean that they have ceased to exist altogether? That’s what those silly humans think. Life is so fleeting for them. Their eighty years or so is nothing compared to the thousands of years he has ventured the heavens, the earth, and the sea. 
You may be thinking that with all that time he’d find something to do with himself. A hobby or something. But that’s where you’d be wrong. 
After Harry’s first millennium, he was confident that he would live out his eternity happily, filled with friends and lovers and celebrations. Apparently, he was wrong as well. 
He guesses in the simplest terms you could say he’s just bored. Three thousand and something years have passed and he’s done everything you could think of. He’s been everywhere. Seen everything. There is nothing on earth that has the capability of exciting him anymore. So, he just sits around now. 
Since he's not human, there are no primal needs to be met. Shelter, food, water, even fucking oxygen; none of those things are necessities for him. The other needs of the frail, pathetic humans are things like significance and love and connection. 
Sadly, those are the only things he craves that humans tend to find so easily. Sure, he had found someone once, but that’s been over for the better half of his life so far and it was never meant to last. Finding a soulmate doesn’t exactly work when you actually live forever. It’s just not something that happens. There are too many options. 
Another thing about him is he hates being ignored. And the others here in Atlantis have a habit of leaving him alone for long periods of time. He thinks that they assume he’s in one of his moods again. Which come and go very often. But that doesn’t mean he wants to be alone. Surely after five hundred years of staying below the surface, some of his anger and hostility has simmered. 
He’s had enough time to think about everything you could ever need to. He’s thought, he’s reflected, he’s contemplated, he’s stared off into space for eight whole hours, not a single thought in his head. But time is still not passing quickly enough. 
Harry is not sure what he’s even waiting for. Not that he is expecting anything, but he just wants to get out of the slump he’s in where nothing exciting is going on and he’s all by himself all the time. So, even if time did magically start moving faster, what is there for him to look forward to?
It’s a funny thing. Time. There is no hourglass counting down the seconds until his demise. His life is just a never-ending, cyclical disappointment. He’s one of the most powerful beings to ever exist, but the need for his presence in the mortal world has faded into obsolescence. It’s sad how clueless they are. Time, a completely fabricated theory which in the end means fuck all. But those pesky humans believe that it’s one of the most precious things out there. It makes him laugh. 
While he sits here and ponders the next hundred or so years, they’re up there pasting photos in scrapbooks and spending time with loved ones like the next time could be the last. There is no end for him.
Now that five centuries have passed of basically nothing, it’s time for Harry to set forth to the surface and find some fun. After all, it is a very nice night out there. Only because he’s wallowing in self-pity. If he was angry, that would be another story. The worst hurricanes have resulted in simpler things than you would think. Like being ignored and lonely. And he won’t punish the humans again for something that he’s completely in control of. This time. Next time they won’t be so lucky.   
Before anything gets too out of hand, he needs to make sure that his wardrobe is up to date with the current trends. He’s worn everything from togas to itchy ruffled collars. Not their best look. While he hasn't been on land in five hundred years, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t looked. He has seen the way they dress now. He’s not a fan. He prefers whatever they were doing thirty-forty years ago. Those bell-bottom pants were something, weren’t they? 
The purpose of this trip, however, is to fit in. To blend. So, he stuck to trousers and a loose button-down shirt. He checked his reflection over in the spotless mirror, outlined in gold in front of him. Everything here is made of gold and gemstones. A very nice touch on his part. 
He slid the small gold, seashell charm, no bigger than his thumb, down his shirt. It was on a chain that hung down to his sternum. Just something to remind him of home while he’s among the mortals. It has its own perks though, but he won’t bore you with those right now. It’s time to get back to society and that is much more fascinating than a silly little shell that has the power to teleport him to any part of the world. And that’s the least of what it can do. 
He checked himself in the mirror once more, not even sure they’ll let him out of here it’s been so long. So, he kept it casual and walked right out of the front doors, nodding at anyone he passed. Mostly the little sea creatures that are always looking out for his best interest. They’re so cute. So concerned and polite. He thinks it’s only because it’s him. 
Before he could so much as regret his decision, Harry was on land. Dripping with water, but not wet. He was just about to make his way into town when he heard something. Music. 
He was positive there would be parties on the island tonight and he’s glad he was right. As long as he’s not running into anyone he knows, he should be fine. He’s managed to keep other immortals off of this specific island, despite it being almost impossible, he managed it. He just can’t stand the others. If he wanted to see them, he’d go back to Olympus. And as you can see, he doesn't want to. His brothers and sisters aren’t the most enjoyable people to be around. They’re annoying as any siblings are. And he tries to avoid them at all costs. Even more so they don’t find out he’s fraternizing with mortals again.
Apparently, it’s not supposed to happen. And he gets it. It makes sense, but it’s so interesting to observe them and their culture. Their insignificant troubles that will mean nothing in five years really seem to get to them. And for a long time too. They’re stuck too much in the past and present. Harry, he never looks back. Everything that he has done is done. There’s no reason to dwell over it and regret things because it changes nothing. And humans have difficulty with that. 
He walked right into a party of some sort. There were people stumbling around and dancing and it seemed like they were celebrating something. It must be a happy event if they look like they’re having fun. 
And then he saw the puffy white dress and other girls in matching dresses and all the men in matching ties and he got the memo. A wedding. Those are silly too. The idea of mortals promising themselves to each other forever as if they’ll ever see the day. Till death do they part he guesses.
He was dressed decently for an event like this and he’s sure no one will question him. He knows no one will. He’s kind of invisible to those around him right now. Unless he wants to be seen, he won’t. 
As he passed the dessert table, he snatched up a slice of cake and a glass of champagne before going to find a place to sit and people-watch. He nodded his head to the catchy music as he shoveled the overly sweet icing into his mouth while chasing it down with cheap champagne. With the English that these people are speaking without a hint of a Greek accent, he can tell that cheap champagne wasn’t a choice. More like an only option. They’re obviously not from here and must have spent a fortune on the wedding ceremony. 
Five slices of cake later and seven flutes of champagne that did nothing for him by the way, he made his way through the dancing and the loud music and the excited, intoxicated people to get some fresh air. He still hasn't revealed himself to anyone because no one here looks like they’re worth his time. 
It’s dark now and the moon is reflecting beautifully off the only place he has ever called home. He’s walking along a tiny side street. The lamp posts are lit up and the cobblestone is smooth beneath his feet. He hasn't walked these streets in such a long time. 
The further and further he got away from the wedding reception, the more the music faded away. Suddenly, he was overcome by the sounds of the sullen waves lapping against the rocks on the shore. 
He leaned against the white painted stone wall in front of him and watched the waves tumble over each other and eventually land flat onto the shoreline to dissolve into silvery foam. With each and every oscillation of the water, he took a breath. It’s nice to see home from this angle sometimes. He’s so used to watching the ripple of waves from below. 
And then he heard something even more sweet and melodic than the music of Apollo. And he’s pretty fucking good if you ask him. 
It was as if a sea siren was calling out to him from just steps away. There, sitting on the ledge, was one of the most beautiful creatures to ever grace his vision. 
And Aphrodite’s his sister. If that puts things into perspective. 
Harry can’t even see her properly in this dim lighting, but that is doing nothing to dull his sudden curiosity. She was swinging her legs back and forth with a glass identical to the one he had back at the reception and she was humming. He could feel his entire body buzzing from just the sound of it. 
He has to say something to her. She can’t see him right now, but that’s going to change the longer he sits here and watches. If he wants to make a good impression, he may have to set the bar a little higher. 
If he’s learned anything in his three thousand and something years of existence, it’s that humans love to be charmed. And he’ll charm this one if it’s the last thing he does.
Which is sort of impossible because he’s immortal in case you forgot in just the few short minutes he went without mentioning it. 
So, Harry didn’t bother making any moves now. He slipped away, off down the large stone steps to the edge of the island. He stepped right into the water and sank straight down in the shallow water to the seafloor. Now just to get her down to the beach.  
After the week she’s had, she’s almost certain that destination weddings are from hell. 
You would think that being on an island in the Mediterranean would be what dreams are made of. And it is. But anything involving this wedding has been a hassle so far for her. She tried to be nice and act helpful throughout the whole thing, but it’s exhausting being around people in general right now. 
About eight months ago, Luna was invited to this wedding by one of her best friends, Carly. They met in high school and stayed friends all throughout college, all that. They’ve pretty much done everything together. Until this. 
Carly’s long-time boyfriend of four years finally proposed. And they couldn’t have planned it sooner. Carly lived with her up until now, but as of the day before they flew here, she moved out. She tried to keep it together the best she could, but it was hard. So, when they all get back home, she’s going to be living with Christian. Luna used to like him, but now she’s not so sure anymore. 
Which leads her to her next point. Of course, she was the maid of honor, meaning that she was involved in all of the decision-making and planning and other shit. Carly wanted to have her wedding in Greece. Santorini specifically. And somehow with only a few months to prepare, they got here along with everyone that was invited. It was a small wedding, but big enough to make her feel claustrophobic in the small reception area. 
But that’s not the problem. The problem is that Carly has her entire life together and Luna feels like a failure. She’s married for christ’s sake and she still doesn't even have a boyfriend. She hasn't had one since college. She’s twenty-seven now, you would think she would finally be in her prime and her door would be beaten down with people wanting to get a chance with her. 
She likes to think she’s a nice person overall. So, that’s a big reason why someone should hurry up and come along and take her away. She’s a total catch and if no one can see that, maybe no one deserves her in the first place. 
In less technical terms, she’s lonely. And it’s such a constant, hollow feeling. She can feel it in her chest, every time she breathes it gets tighter. It makes her sick to her stomach. Carly is her only friend back home. She ditched everyone as soon as she graduated high school and only kept Carly around in college. She has no one. And now that Carly is married and a wife, she’s going to be seeing a lot less of her. And that hurts. 
Of course, she could never tell her any of this. Her feelings all boil down to jealousy, right? She’s just upset that she doesn't have someone to turn to now and she’s going to be living alone and she’s not in love. But is that something that she even wants? That’s why this whole situation is a mess. 
She wants someone to want to be around her, but at the same time, she has no patience for relationships right now. Her job is all she can worry about. 
So, while everyone was watching the bride and groom throw the cake she picked out at each other, she was guzzling down another glass of the inexpensive champagne, the only kind the budget would allow after all the other expenses. 
But she can’t tell Carly because she’s happy for her. She’s so happy that she’s found someone that makes her happy. She just didn’t know it was that serious. Carly and Christian have been together for four years. Four years is serious, but marriage? Oh, god, she’s hopeless. If it takes four years for her to get married, she’ll be an old hag by then. 
She was on her second glass of champagne when the best man, Christian’s best friend, pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. Can’t he tell by the look of pure anguish on her face that she wants to be left alone? He’s been annoying this entire time, so she’s guessing no. 
“They’re amazing, aren’t they?” His hand rested on the back of her chair, making her sit up straight so his hand wouldn’t be touching her bare back. Carly picked out these beautiful bronze-colored, satin dresses. They reach the floor and the entire back is open with just strings holding it together. Being the maid of honor, hers is a little bit different than the other bridesmaid dresses. It’s strappy and has a slit that reaches past her knee. It’s very beautiful and she feels great wearing it. And Jake cannot stop complimenting her. 
First, it was when they got to the rehearsal dinner. He lives in New York, so he wasn’t around for all the planning they were initially doing, and hadn’t met her yet. But as soon as he saw her there, he was following her around like he was lost. Touching her and giving compliments and telling her how much money he made. She doesn’t give a shit, but he’s Christian’s friend, so she played nice and politely shot down any and every advance thrown her way. 
And then the day of the wedding came. He saw Luna in her dress and just had to feel the smooth silk on her waist and down to her hip. She stepped away and shot him a look this time. She can only be polite so many times before his unwarranted touching crosses boundaries. But she still had to walk down the aisle with him and lock arms. He looked smug the entire time. It made her sick. 
With every experience combined that she’s had with Jake, no, she doesn’t want to be around him. But here he is with that stupid grin on his face and a glass of something that appears to be whiskey in his hand. Great. She forgot about the open bar. Maybe she can get something other than this watered-down champagne. 
“Yes. What do you want, Jake?” She wants him to cut to the chase. She doesn’t need him here, staring at her like he hasn’t eaten in two years. She just wants to sulk and throw a pity party before Carly realizes she’s not dancing anymore. Then she would know something is wrong and Luna would have to confess her really disappointing feelings. She should be happy. 
“It’s been such a good night, hasn’t it?” Maybe for anyone else. She rolled her eyes discreetly and turned slightly away from him before taking a long sip from her glass. 
“It’s been a night of realizations, that’s for sure.” She knew she was feeling something when Carly told her she was engaged, but she never thought it would be this. Jealousy, loneliness. Unwelcome even. And how could she be on one of the most important days of her best friend’s life? She’s supposed to be so thrilled for her. And yet she can’t find it in herself. She actually extended her stay after the wedding. She thinks she deserves that much. Plus, Carly won’t need her once she gets home. 
“So, I was thinking that after this is over with you and I could, I don’t know, spend a little time together.” He leaned even closer to her so she could smell his insufferable cologne, making her almost gag. 
Every ounce of niceness has left her body at this point. 
“I don’t think so, Jake. I really don’t want to sleep with you. Please, get away from me.” She didn’t give him a chance to move, she stood up after taking one last look at his shocked expression and walked right out of the door and onto the cobblestone pathway. 
She walked until the music faded to a dull sound and the words became nothing she could make out anymore. She leaned against one of the white walls, right under a dimly lit lamp post, and watched the dark water down below, lost in thought. 
At some point, Carly was supposed to spread her wings and have her own life. She knows that. She can’t hold her back, she’s not going to and she is not. She knows that she values their friendship, but for some reason this feels like a very low-level betrayal and it shouldn’t. She’s glad that she’s moving onto the next step of her life. It’s just for the first time, it’s without her. And she can’t handle that apparently. 
So, she’ll spend this time getting over it. The ocean is calm and the breeze is warm, but chilly at the same time, creating waves of goosebumps over her arms and legs. 
Tired of standing, she got a little daring and decided to sit on the wall. She hadn’t really noticed the steep drop right below her, but she had no intention of falling, so it should be fine. She kicked her legs lightly back and forth while polishing off her half-empty glass of champagne. 
She feels really warm now and better than before and she thinks it’s from her bubbly drink. She started humming along to the last song she heard in the reception hall and shut her eyes. It’s so quiet right now. Only the sounds of the sea drowning out her overbearing thoughts. She was finally at peace. For just a moment. 
She allowed herself to relax for the first time in days. The week before leaving for Greece had been insane. Trying to prepare everything before actually getting on the plane was driving her crazy. She wasn’t sleeping well. And now she’s glad it’s over. All she has to do now is get home and get back into her routine. It’ll be easy. She hopes. 
Somehow, the clasps on her shoes loosened and she kicked them right off. She gasped, hurrying to set the glass aside while watching the heels plummet down into the thrashing water. Her hand covered her mouth and she gasped, almost wanting to laugh. What are the chances? She thought the straps were tight enough, but she guesses she didn’t ever think they’d drop into the ocean like that. 
Those were pretty moderately priced shoes, so she’s not sure why she’d want to laugh. She’s not sure she’ll ever get them back, even if she went down there to search. But she figured she should give it a try even though the chances are slim. 
She carefully stepped down from the wall, not wanting to suffer the same fate as her shoes, and with bare feet made her way down the cobbled stairs to the sand of the beach. 
She muttered to herself the entire time, kicking the sand over aggressively with her arms crossed to her chest. It’s so much darker down here. She can just barely see the foamy white of the water. 
“Why me, why me, why me?” She repeated to herself, feeling tears push at her lash line. Everything's just building up. She didn’t want to cry, but here she is. On a beach in Santorini close to fucking tears. How comical. And then, right next to the back and forth of the salty seawater she collapsed into the sand, feeling tears leak down her cheeks. The sand was probably the least comfortable place for her breakdown, but she didn’t care at the moment. She just needs a second to regroup. 
Her hands dug into the sand, feeling it press under her fingernails, only irritating her further, before she forced herself to look back at the water. It’s all blurry now, but it’s still remarkably beautiful to see at a time like this. 
Luna will be fine in a few minutes. She just needs a break from all the stress she's been putting herself through. And crying seems to be the best way to do that right now. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm that rapid beating of her heart. She's fine, everything is okay. She'll just go right back up those stairs, no shoes, and pretend like she's never been happier.
And then she saw it. A light under the water. Glowing yellow. She pulled her hands from the sand and hurried to her feet. She was hesitant to get too close, but did anyway. Close enough for the advancing water to run over her toes and tickle her ankles. 
She wiped her face to clear the tears away so she could see more clearly. Something is shining in the water. Brighter than any light she’s ever seen. She could feel it lighting up her entire face. She knew the ends of her dress were getting wet, but she couldn’t help it. She was so curious. 
She got up to her knees in the water, not caring about the damaged fabric of the dress, no matter how pretty it is. After she got about five feet from the mysterious light, it started moving. The water pushed out of the way for something. A man.
He walked out of the water and it dripped from his head and down his body like millions of sparkling little diamonds shining against his skin in the golden light coming somewhere from within him. 
His hair, dry even though he just came out of the water, was curled perfectly and a deep brown color. His eyes were sparkling, a bright emerald green color that she probably never knew existed until now. And then his clothes, the sea also having no effect on their condition, we’re fitted to his body. Something mint green and glittery with matching pants. 
And then he held out his heavily jeweled hand to her, his pink lips curving into a smile that made her feel warm inside. 
He was literally glowing right in front of her. She looked down at his hand and then back to his eyes. 
It was like time stopped. She no longer felt the rushing of water past her legs. It was like nothing mattered except the two of them. And she has never felt that way before.
She lifted her hand and it slightly shook the closer she got to his. She set her hand in his, feeling that warmth intensify to white, hot electricity. It went up her arm and encompassed her entire body. He grabbed her other hand and pulled her closer to him, taking her further out in the water. Up to her waist now. The water was so calm it felt like it wasn’t moving anymore, so she didn’t have to worry about being jostled back and forth by crashing waves. 
“Hello.” He spoke to her, his initial, gleaming light fading now, leaving them in darkness again. Only the full moon illuminating some parts of his face and shadowing the others. His voice was strange to her. An accent. But all she could do was stare at him with her jaw dropped. He was just that hypnotizing. 
There are many things she could do right now. She could snatch her hands away because she has no idea who this man is or why he came to her. Better yet, how he came out of the water like that. She could try to voice these questions as well. But, all she could do was watch him in awe. 
“H-Hello.” She finally found her voice, only to sound scared. He smiled again, looking her over extensively, like he was examining her. One of his hands slipped from hers and came up to her face. His thumb smeared through one of the tears still sliding down her cheek. 
“Why do you cry, paidi mou?” She hurried to wipe under her eyes with her free hand before shaking her head at him. She can’t admit to this guy she was just sobbing about being lonely. He would probably run back into the water. 
“I-I wasn’t. The water is just so beautiful,” It was still flowing past them, back and forth, but it was such a light feeling, it just went right past without moving either of them. “Plus, I . . . I lost my shoes.” 
That could be the reason she’s crying. What if they were like limited-edition and cost five rent payments? That would make anyone cry. She could never tell him what’s really wrong, she doesn’t want to scare him away. 
She’s confident that her shoes are gone for good, so she’s not going to bother looking. She could stay here and hold hands with this man all night. She’s got nothing better to do. 
They’re just staring at each other now in complete silence. But it wasn’t weird or awkward. It felt like she’s done this a hundred times already. Almost familiar. She doesn’t know if she’s just making shit up or not, but he seems just as captured by her as she is by him. And that’s new. No one has ever looked at her the way he is. Definitely not Jake. 
She dared to lift her hand up and touch him. He made no moves that would convince her he didn’t want her to, so when her hand finally fell on his smooth, warm cheek, he shut his eyes. And then she looked him over entirely. He’s only taller than her by a little. Broad shoulders. Slender waist. And the hand holding hers leads to tattoos all the way up his left arm. It cuts off after the shimmery green of his shirt sleeve, but she was interested to see more. An anchor. A mermaid. And many other tiny little things that she cannot make out surrounding them. 
When she made it back around to his eyes, they were open again. Watching her very closely check him out. She moved her hand back down by her side. 
“What is your name?” She feels like she should be asking him that. He’s the one who crawled out of the ocean and she just asked no questions and went to touch all over him. She supposes they’ll be getting to that though. 
“Luna.” Suddenly, the water behind her pushed her closer to him. To the point where their chests were touching and she was forced to raise her head to look at him. His arms came around her back and she froze. Unsure what he was planning on doing, she kept her hands planted on his chest, trying to put the tiniest bit of distance between them, even if it felt wrong. 
“Well, Luna. You’re the prettiest creature I’ve seen in three thousand years,” She’s unsure if that’s a compliment or not. Three thousand years? Creature? Hang on—what? “You intrigue me. How long have you been here?” She thinks it’s her turn to start asking some of the questions now. 
“Almost a week now. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.” He didn’t ask for that bit, but she figures that’s his next question. Obviously, they have to see each other again before she leaves. It would be criminal not to. She’s probably never going to see him again after that. He pulled her arms around his neck and pressed them closer. 
“It’s a shame we don’t have much time to play, agapi mou. I would love to get to know you.” She really doubts he wants that. He’s just saying that to make her feel good. All men do is lie. 
Not that he’s done anything to make her believe that he’s a typical man, but it’s just easier for her to see him that way. Even though her mind is cloudy right now from how early she woke up this morning to make wedding preparations. She’s not sure this is even happening right now. 
She smiled at him anyway, bringing her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, making his eyes flutter. He’s too easy. What’s wrong with him? This has to be all in her head. He’s too perfect. 
“Yeah. Such a shame. So, how exactly did you come out of the water like that? You were shiny and shit.” She still did have two glasses of champagne. Those don’t just go away. Maybe that’s why she was so calm when he came walking out of the water looking like a desk lamp. Hm. She wished she had her phone. They could take a picture and she could show everyone her hot vacation boyfriend. That would give her a little bit of a story to tell people back home. 
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here now. Together. Would you like to go on a walk with me?” He’s so charming, what is she supposed to say, no? She smiled at him, having every intention of saying yes when her name was called from behind her. Fucking hell. Who is that? 
She looked over her shoulder and saw half of the wedding party staring down at her. Well shit. Isn’t this just wonderful? How is she going to explain being halfway out to sea with a ruined dress? She guesses she’ll give them the old missing shoes story. Works like a charm. 
“Your people are calling you.” Luna looked back at him and realized that they’re back on land and her dress looks like new. Like she never even went close to the water. She thinks she’s going insane. 
“I know. I just can’t be bothered to listen.” He put her arms down by her sides and gave her another dazzling smile. Her face got hot. God, does she have to go? Everytime something good happens, she can never stick around long enough to see how it could turn out. 
In his hand appeared this purple flower. She’s not sure where he got it from, but it was pretty even though it’s so dark outside. He put it behind her ear and started leaning his face towards her. He’s totally going to kiss her right now. She shut her eyes and leaned towards him as well. 
Her arm was grabbed and she turned, seeing Carly looking very concerned and a bit mad actually. She’s in her reception dress now. Aw. Luna remembers when they picked that out. 
“Where have you been? Everyone’s been looking all over for you. What are you doing down here?” She shot her a look. How dare she fucking interrupt at a time like this. She looked back to the man in front of her and he raised his eyebrows. 
“What do you mean? I’ve just been here.” She gestured in front of her to the man and he smiled wider. 
“Okay? Staring at the ocean? Are you feeling alright?” Her eyes shot back to her and she looked confused. What is going on? 
“Carly,” She said through my teeth. She’s making her seem like a crazy person in front of this man. “I’m sort of busy here if you don’t mind.” She smiled back at the man, laughing lightly while trying to bat Carly away. 
“Luna. It’s dark down here. I really think you should come back up.” She scoffed, beginning to laugh. She’s fine. It’s not like she’s alone down here. He is a stranger, but for some reason she trusts him. He spoke so softly to her and held her so tenderly. He means no harm and that she knows for sure. Even if she doesn’t know his name. 
“I’m fine. We’re just hanging out.” She motioned back to the man right here. Carly looked around like she didn’t see anyone. 
“Who is we? Lu, you need to come with me.” She glanced around her and saw Jake and Christian at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the beach. They’re both watching them from about twenty feet away. She groaned and let Carly grab her wrist. 
“So, you’re telling me you don’t see this actual Adonis standing right in front of me?” 
“Wrong one, love.” He spoke up and she tilted her head at him. Carly shot her a look before shaking her head. 
“Are you on something? How much champagne did you have?” Her arm went around her shoulders as she led her back to the stairs and the two men standing there. 
“I only had two.” She hurried to look over her shoulder just to catch another glimpse of him. He was still standing there, just watching her. She lifted her free hand and waved at him. He blew her a kiss before pressing his hand to his chest. She giggled to herself. If she never sees him again she’ll just blame Carly. 
“Where are your shoes, Lulu?” Christian has been calling her that since he met her and it’s disturbing. He knows she hates it. She made a face at him and pointed to the water behind her. 
“They fell off.” Jake put his jacket over her shoulders, but she decided to just thank him instead of being a bitch. 
“She’s fucked.” Carly tried to say it quietly so she didn’t hear, but she did. 
“Hey! I am not!” She ripped her arm from her before crossing them. “I only had two!” 
“Oh, is she? She so is.” Jake laughed to himself and she turned to him with a glare.
“I’m not that fucked.” 
They walked her up the steps while she kept looking back at the man on the beach. He was in the water now, slowly sinking back in, the yellow light encompassing him again. She didn’t say anything to any of the others even though it was right there. She watched until the bright light faded under the waves and disappeared. 
See you soon. 
She heard that in her mind. In her mind. It was his voice. Maybe Carly is right. She is fucking crazy. 
Luna pulled the flower from behind her ear once they were back by the lights. It’s a violet. And it’s so pretty. This is proof that he is real. How could she have gotten this if she’s fucking crazy? She hasn't even seen flowers like this around. How didn’t they see him? Probably the same reason he came walking out of the water so casually. 
She guesses he’ll just be her little secret for now. And another reason to stay on the island for another week. 
Harry is a thousand and one percent he sent his little mortal spiraling. He hated to think it was so amusing to watch her gawk at him and try to convince her friends she wasn’t crazy, but it simply was. 
The amount of times she looked back over her shoulder at him as her friends dragged her away left him hopeful. She didn’t seem too freaked out about what transpired on the beach. It was almost like she wanted to be close to him. And she did. He could feel it. He just knows these things, don’t ask him how. He’s immortal and very in tune with his gut feelings. 
He did watch her the entire way back to her room. How she insisted on telling her friend that there really was someone there on the beach with her and asking why she interrupted them. He didn’t mean to make her seem like she was losing her mind, but he wanted her to remember him clearly. And how they felt toward each other. He knows that they just met, but he can see it all now. It makes sense to him. They make sense. 
However, he did not appreciate the man that was way too close to her on the walk back to the hotel. He could tell that the other two were a couple, but the other guy kept looking at her in a way that he knew she didn’t like. His jacket was draped over her shoulders. He caught that exchange back on the beach. And while he didn’t like it, there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment. But that will be taken care of soon enough. 
She pouted the whole way back to her room, continuing to watch over her shoulder like he’d be there. He was, he just didn’t allow her to see him. Harry knows that mortals in this age do not take kindly to being followed, no matter if she wanted him to or not. Maybe two hundred years or so ago, it would have been considered flattery (maybe not even then), but he doesn’t want to scare her away. 
Once she was shut away in her hotel room, he figured he should just go back home and wait until daylight to come back. Her friends walked from her door, speaking lowly about how she’s just drunk and needs to get some rest. But when they were out of sight, he almost thought about knocking on her door now. Just to see her and let her know that he is real. He’s real and he’s here and he just wants to know her. 
She did tell him she was leaving tomorrow which did dampen his mood very much. Of course he would meet someone like her and then she’d be leaving the next day. That’s just his luck. 
But Harry doesn’t necessarily believe in luck. He has insurmountable power at his disposal. Whatever he wills becomes reality. That’s just how things work. So, if he wants her, he’ll find her, even if she goes before he has the chance to see her again. Even if he has to go to the ends of the earth. He’ll find her. 
He took the long way back to the water. Just to see the island after so long, which was his original intention before he got distracted. Some people were still out, but again, they couldn’t see him, so he had a rather peaceful walk among the humans. 
It was nearing midnight by now, so he made his way back to the beach. But he’ll be back tomorrow because he has a reason to. If Luna will be leaving tomorrow, he has to see her one last time before she goes.  He tried to keep his spirits high on the way back home. He hopes that fate will make this easy for him and she’ll be here tomorrow. So he won’t have to begin a world-wide search for the one woman in over a thousand years that has made his heart beat just a little bit harder. But he’d do that and more. Just for her.
Tumblr media
This was so spontaneous, I did not plan on posting any of this yet, but you know how it is. I hope you liked this, so much more to come!! ☺️
tags: @vamprry @1un4zsq @marzhshaim @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @idrawshapesonpeople07 @me-undiscovered @llina01 @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @sceleratuspoeta @hssunflowervol6
225 notes · View notes
idksmtms · 1 month
Text
You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Full Request - Part 2
AN: I’m so sorry this is so late! I’ve been so busy with life and then I was so tired I kinda lost the motivation to write but I’m back now!!! Also, sorry this is so short, it's kind of a filler before all the big stuff happens!
Side note: I’m so proud of the way I choose to show their messaging systems - will continue in ending note - 
Summary: Forced apart, you and Poseidon try to find ways to communicate.  
Word count: 2,604
Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any) 
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
Tumblr media
After you were thrown from Olympus and forbidden to even be near your love, it stormed for two weeks straight. With every day of the storm, more houses were destroyed, more people hurt, with no sign of an end. The people trekked to Poseidon’s temples every day with offerings, they prayed until their voices were hoarse, but the rain didn’t cease. The people believed he had given up on them, that they had done something to anger him. They didn’t know the utter heartbreak that coursed with the ichor in his veins. They didn’t know that this was the true despair of a god, that it could destroy them all. 
You had been taken back to Asgard and cared for like you were newly-made, the Aesir tip-toeing around you and hoping not to set off any catastrophes. You had become numb since you had been brought home, moving around the halls of Valhalla like a lost spirit. Odin and Frigg tried so hard to bring you back, to do something that would return you to yourself, but it was all in vain. The only thing that you could possibly want was him. 
Every day you walked the fjords, standing right on the edge of a cliff, the breeze pressing on your back, hoping to push you off. You had roamed every inch of the fjords, combed every cliffedge. You waited for Pegasus to find you, to whisk you away to your love, but the winged stallion never came. You hoped for a sign, any sign that both of you weren’t lost to each other, but nothing came.
And then, when you were beginning to lose all hope, you looked down over the edge of the cliff, straight down and into the swirling waters that frothed and smashed against the sharp rocks. There was no pegasus, but a huge clump of seaweed. You had never seen the seaweed come up near the fjords before in your whole existence, not this much anyway. It was always deep under the water, or only a few specks of it floated up and washed ashore. But there was so much of it floating near the edge that it created an island on the water. 
Your heart stopped in your chest as you watched it float to the cliff wall and bump against it. Again and again it floated into the cliff, as if waiting for something before it would allow itself to disperse. You clenched your hands together, breath suddenly shallow, then took a run and jumped off the cliff. 
The water was icy, and your skin began to tingle as the bubbles floated up around you and to the surface. You waited until they had all disappeared then allowed yourself to push to the surface as well, treading water and staring up at the sky for a moment. It had been so long since you had gone swimming, since you had enjoyed the sea as you once had, and it felt immeasurably good to be immersed in it once more. You smiled, wider and brighter than you had ever done since being back from Olympus. You allowed yourself to drop into the water again and again, ceasing the swirling of your arms and legs to just float in it. It felt like a hug from Poseidon. Then you swam over to the island of kelp and began sifting through it. 
Carefully pulling each piece away and gathering it into your other hand. If it truly was a message from him you wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. It was slippery and a little slimy but you just held on tighter as you straightened out each piece and lay it in your other hand. Right in the centre of the bundle, you found five oyster shells. They were placed in a perfectly straight row in the perfect centre of the kelp and they were… perfect. You had never seen an oyster like that, perfectly black on the outside like a mussel but still rippled so you knew it was an oyster. You reached out and gently picked one up. Your hands shook and tears filled your eyes until the oyster became blurry. You wiped at them haphazardly, blinking until you could see again and the tears had mixed into the seawater. 
The oyster was just barely open, a thin crack that you tried to peek through, but you couldn’t see anything inside. You dug your nails into the opening and used whatever godly strength you possess to pry it open just enough without breaking it fully. It was a rather delicate task and you had to stop a few times for fear of cracking the shell, but when you got it open you found a beautiful pearl sitting in the centre. It wasn’t perfectly round (as you found that natural pearls rarely were) and was actually rather flat with its edges poking out here and there so it looked like a splash of water in pearl form. You picked it out of the shell, the oyster within not giving any resistance, and you held it in your palm. It seemed smooth, and glinted different colours in the grey light. You flipped it over, and you found that there were little scratches on the pearl. They were much too small for you to decipher at first, but as you brought it closer to your eye and realised that it was writing, your heart began to thunder. ‘To have and to hold’ was all it said. You stared at it, heart in your throat, and gently placed it back in the oyster, shutting it and resting it on its bed. The next was the same, except this pearl was smoother around the edges, almost like a flat oval. ‘For better or worse’ it said in the same small writing. The one after it was almost perfectly round but also flat and thin like a drachma. ‘For richer or for poorer’. The next pearl was sharp, its edges jagged and spiking out. ‘Until death do us part’. You caressed it, allowing the sharpest edge to cut into your skin and the bead of blood to stain the pearl. You whispered each word aloud as you opened the pearls, hoping that since you were in the water that he could hear it, that he would know. The final pearl was a perfect sphere and as large as the first segment of your pinky finger. The writing was inscribed around it, and you spun it over and over, reading the words until they were screaming inside your head, until you couldn’t read them anymore because your eyes were streaming with tears and you were sobbing so heavily that water splashed up and into your mouth. ‘I love you’ it read, inscribed over and over around the pearl so that it looked like it was scratched all over. 
You floated there for a moment, staring at the vows, at the pearls, then let yourself sink under the water, eyes closed. You screamed the words into the water, bubbles floating around your face, voice garbled, but you screamed until you had no air left and even your body began to tire. You wanted him to hear you, needed him to know. Then you surfaced, breathing heavily and feeling lighter than you had before coming to the cliffs. You looked at each pearl again, caressed them, then gently placed them back into their shells. You wrapped the shells up in the seaweed, creating a tight parcel and tying it up with the seaweed you had stripped away before. You stayed in the water a while longer, feeling the caress of it on your skin, pretending it was his arms wrapping around you, his fingers running up and down your arms. Then, when it became close to the time of the nightly feast and knowing the others would begin to worry if you did not show up, you grabbed the parcel and made your way back to your new home, a small house built at the bottom of the hills that led to the cliff edges. 
It was more of a hut, built in the viking style and furnished sparsely. You had lost all your taste for glamour in the last weeks, lost the feeling of being a goddess, and had conjured this place, quiet and secluded and right by the cliffs you had once enjoyed. You left the pile of seaweed in the hall of the house by the entrance, thinking of ways to decorate your house with it. You placed the shells in order on a shelf just above your bed. You didn’t want the pearls themselves to be exposed, just in case someone came snooping. You looked at them longingly and kissed each shell before making the journey back to Valhalla. You had to find a way to send a message in return. You had to. 
Tumblr media
Poseidon sat on the beach he had once brought you to. He stared out at the water’s edge, watching a happy couple walk along it, a woman in a beautiful dress kicking up splashes of water and the man staring down at her with such devotion in his eyes. He watched them press close to each other, walk further into the water, let it roll over them. He watched them kiss, felt it on his own lips, then a wave crashed over the shadows and they disappeared into seafoam and the sparkle of sunlight on the water. 
Poseidon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing heavily and shaking his head as he muttered angrily to himself. Though he had been forced to stop the storms lest he flood all of Greece, the one in his head never ceased. You were his every thought, consuming him from the inside. He had gone to the lake on Olympus everyday for the week he had been forced to stay there after your banishment. Zeus has wanted all the gods together to feast and be merry for the return of his bolt. Poseidon had not spoken a word the entire time, glaring at his brother with such fire that even Hephaestus could not conjure a flame with such heat. The rest of the time was either spent watching Hermes, trying to figure out if all of this was really his doing, or making the trek to the lake to sit on one of the boulders, feet dipped into the water, and reminiscing on the time he had with you. 
Even since had returned to his domain, nothing felt right. The usually comforting embrace of the water now felt hollow. The feeling of the sand under his feet did not mean anything now that he couldn’t share it with you. He no longer felt like the god of the seas, just a god of… nothing. Everywhere he looked he saw something that reminded him of you. He could not escape your memory even if he were trying. Even now, sitting on the beach where you had first kissed, he could only hope you had received his pearls, his vows of marriage. 
A butterfly, blue and shiny, fluttered into view. He watched it flap its wings and fly in little twirls, as if looking for something. Then it began to flutter closer, circling its way to him.  He watched the little creature with a sad smile, wishing you were here to see it. He knew you would love it. But the butterfly kept coming closer, flittering and fluttering until it sat itself on the tip of his nose. His eyes crossed as he tried to stare at it, eyebrows knitting in a frown, as the insect flapped its wings once, twice, then laid them out flat and stopped moving entirely. Without the strength of its little legs gripping to his nose, the butterfly fell away and into his lap, laying on his thigh as still and dead as he felt. His frown deepened, staring at the creature with its legs poking up into the air and wings perfectly flat. 
The structure and pattern suggested it was a monarch butterfly, but they didn’t come in blue. It was old, at least for its species, around 6 weeks if he were to guess, right at the end of its life. With the gentlest movements, he dug his fingertips under the wings of the dead butterfly and lifted it closer to his eyes. He flipped it over and examined the backs of its wings, the beautiful blue that somehow shined even brighter now that it was dead. He stared at the black lines that swirled over the wings, creating little pockets of blue and edged with dots of white. It was in the black lines that he found writing, in the smallest letters possible. Where the lines swirled and made pockets, letters followed them. And there, on the wings of this butterfly that seemed to randomly appear on this beach and randomly choose to land on him, he found his wedding vows. Each one he had sent, returned in the beautiful writing of a goddess. And right at the bottom, in the biggest letters, ‘I love you’. He could almost hear your voice, a whisper in the wind, and he closed his eyes lest the tears fall. 
Tumblr media
Years passed without a word from neither him nor you. You had settled into your life with the Aesir again, comforted by the pearls that sat above your bed. You opened the shells every night and gazed at them, whispering the words and hoping that somewhere in the sea he felt your love. He too returned to his palace underwater, the butterfly encased in clear ice to be frozen as long as he lived, a reminder that you had said yes, that you had married him. Both of you felt safer knowing he was yours and you were his. It was not a traditional wedding by any means, but it was yours, and you would cherish it until the end of your days. 
After the first three decades of peace and no sign of anyone knowing that you had sent messages to each other, you sent one more, another butterfly with a simple reminder that you loved him. In return you received a conch shell, not too large but still a hefty weight in your palm. When you lifted it to your ear, in the whisper of the ocean you could hear his voice, telling you he loved you. Every night you put it to your ear and let it lull you to sleep. 
So many years passed in this way, changes coming and going, empires rising and falling. Suddenly the modem age arrived, bringing its technology and skyscrapers and all of you gods into each other’s vicinity once more. Now the Greek gods were huddled in New York, living lavishly atop the Empire State building while the halls of the Aesir occupied Boston, hiding in plain sight. The battles continued, the monsters still roared, but things had become slow, the gods became lazy. While you kept your cabin in the fjords, your connection to Poseidon and your homeland, you were forced to spend much of your time in Boston to keep yourself alive, to keep your facade with the other gods. 
The clashes between the worlds of the Greek and the Norse became more frequent, though all the gods kept their promise of staying away from each other. It was not until the battle of the Draugur that this promise was broken. That after millennia you were face to face with your love once more…
Tumblr media
A/N: I chose things from the sea as his messaging system because obvi he’s the god of the sea. But I chose butterflies for Y/n because I see her character in so many ways that I feel the butterfly embodies. I was thinking of the butterfly effect (a butterfly flaps its wings in one place and a storm starts in another) and that’s literally Y/n because she’s this small thing who’s seen as gentle and underestimated but she causes all these big things simply by existing. And then butterflies are seen as small and gentle and colourful but there’s literally a species of butterfly that drinks the tears of turtles and that felt so accurate to her character because she’s seen as small and pretty and colourful (and she is) but she can also be vicious and violent for survival. Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk. 
Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord
76 notes · View notes
vivalarevolution · 1 year
Text
𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓼
Tumblr media
Robb Stark x Reader x Jon Snow
Request: „I love ur writing and I wondering if you could write a robb stark x reader x jon snow where they’re fighting over a winter fella new maid or smth, tysm!‟
A/N: A request from anon. I won't lie, despite the little information I was very inspired by this idea. I hope all of you will enjoy reading it. Please remember that english is not my native language, mistakes may or will occur.
Additionally, work contains smut, minors do not interact.
Tumblr media
They had never seen her before, and perhaps that was why their curiosity about her was so unbridled. They couldn't explain it, but from the moment they laid their eyes on her they had to touch her, they had to feel her, they had to taste her.
-You feel so good around me - the man murmured directly into her ear, biting its lobe.
Woman only moaned quietly, resisting her forehead on a cold stone wall. Her body trembled with the intense pleasure that flowed through her veins. Her legs almost gave up under her , if not for a strong hand that tightened on her hip, giving her goosebumps.
-Robb...no...we can't - she said, closing her eyes and parting her mouth when his member hit her insides mercilessly.
Man muttered in response before placing his free hand around her slender neck, squeezing gently to remind her of the wolf behind her devouring her piece by piece.
-Your soft lips say something different from your body - the brunette noticed after a while attacking her bare arms with wet kisses and rough bites - You want me like I want you. So let your big wolf devour you - he growled close to her ear, kissing her cervix harder with each word he spoke.
Y/n gave a silent scream. Her eyes closed tightly, and her hands tightened into fists. She was so close, she felt it. Her release was like a wave at sea. The water went back, just to hit the coastal stones firmly, playing with her. And Robb, Robb was the ruler of this sea.
-So close... please Robb! - she whimpered desperately, looking at him with eyes clouded with lust.
-I know, little lamb. I know - the young man murmured, abusing all the right places inside her with strong and aggressive movements that took her breath away with each successive stroke of his hips - Let go, let me feel you.
His words were the key that opened the golden gate leading straight to a sweet pleasure so good it was almost forbidden.
Her eyes closed, and a wave of pleasure passed through her, spreading everywhere in her body. From the top of her head to the tips of her fingers. It felt as if time had stopped and the sound around them ceased to exist.
-Good little lamb - said Robb, lazily kissing her neck - Now let the wolf fill you up.
-Yes, yes - she whimpered, opening her mouth wide and frowning as she felt another orgasm coming toward her, so fast and unnoticed it almost hurt - Please, I want to be full!
Y/n moaned softly, feeling the sudden warmth that poured from her insides, right between her thighs. With her hand, she sluggishly grabbed the brunette's neck, pulling him to herself, connecting their lips in a slow kiss.
Every next touch, every kiss, every sigh. Everything was more intimate, more sensual... more forbidden and dangerous.
The slightest sound from the end of the corridor startled her like a doe that was being hunted. Fleeing before a predator could spot her ,before Robb could've grab her in his claws again, feasting a little longer.
Tumblr media
First she heard their voices, then felt their burning eyes on her skin. Yet her movements remained the same, composed, calm. While the two wolves watched her, no matter how far away she was from them.
-I see the way you're looking at her - Robb confessed in a hard controlled voice- You're my brother, but she's not yours...never will be.
Jon stopped staring at his beautiful Y/n, resembling a doe in her delicacy, reluctantly letting her immaculate, ruddy face escape his view.
-She's a free woman - bastard remarked, fixing his cold gaze on him - She can choose whoever she wants - he remarked, noticing in the corner of his eye how her gaze involuntarily wandered in their direction, watching them from a distance, trying so desperately to hear what they were talking about.
-And you believe she'll choose you? - Stark asked, unable to stop staring at the woman who had beguiled his senses and soul.
-If she would choose me - said the black-haired man, stopping for a moment - I would let her. I would let her do whatever she wanted because I couldn't tell her no. Never.
Robb clenched his hand into a fist, his face hardened into an indifferent expression. He wanted to be controlled, understanding. But still the blood of the north flowed in his veins, the blood of the wolf. And his dark, primitive side knew, knew that the moment he laid his eyes on the woman, she became his, only his.
Before the eldest son of the Lord of Winterfell could speak, Y/n caught his attention again. Just like the night before, she ran away suddenly, unexpectedly, as if something spooked her before she saw it.
He wanted to know what, but when he looked back, she was gone. Just like Jon.
Tumblr media
She thought she had run away. She should be smarter.
Within seconds she was in the arms of Ned Stark's son, gasping as he pulled her closer, shielding her from the eyes of the outside world.
-Jon - she said almost breathlessly.
-Y/n - he replied, kissing her jaw gently - Why are you still running away? - he asked, holding her tightly in his arms.
-I'm not running away - she confessed, leaning against his torso - I just wanted to get rid of so many eyes on my skin - she added, tilting her head slightly to look into the man's dark irises - They seem to be following me wherever I go.
The man smiled slightly at her confession, his hand found its place on her cheek, stroking its smooth surface with his thumb.
-You are a white deer in the darkness - he stated, staring intensely into her eyes with growing desire - And the wolves are starving - he added before attacking her full, sweet lips.
Woman moaned softly, grabbing his hair as if her life depended on it, trying to pull him even closer. Even though she shouldn't.
Grabbing her tiny body, Snow pinned her to a nearby tree. Attacking her slender neck, he reveled in the sound of her whimpers and sighs, his large hands roaming her body, lower and lower.
Y/n watched his actions with eyes clouded with desire. She was afraid that someone would see them, she was afraid of punishment.
But they were alone among the trees in Godswood. The only witnesses were the old gods and themselves, no one else.
-Jon...we can't - she whispered weakly, not realizing how familiar this scenario was to her.
-All I want is to please you - he said tenderly, slowly rolling up the fabric of her dress, making her skin crawl with goosebumps - My sweet Y/n, let your wolf feast. I must feel you.
She fell helplessly onto the rough bark behind her. She wanted to say and do so much, but her body seemed to rebel against her, telling her to take whatever the predator was giving her between her thighs.
He was so gentle and agonizingly slow, kissing and sucking on her firm skin, leaving marks on his prey as he got closer and closer to where he wanted to attack so much.
Y/n quickly became numb. The amount of attention she was getting seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jon harassing her womanhood in such an addictive way.
She could compare him to a hungry wolf, by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity while choosing every single piece, not wanting to miss absolutely nothing.
She let the knot in her lower belly burst, spreading delicious and burning pleasure through her body, which constantly circulated through her veins through the tongue of a man who would not leave her, feasting on her even longer.
She felt her sanity trying desperately to break through the thick wall of pleasure and lust built by two dangerous predators that were using the little sheep inside it.
But she wanted them to be happy ,full. Even as they fought for her like ravenous wolves, and she just couldn't choose. Letting them both devour her.
538 notes · View notes
profitofthedune · 2 months
Text
Lover, be good to me
Tumblr media
Word count 24,103
Jake Kiszka X reader
we would like to take a moment to refer you to some resources to educate yourself, stay informed, and support Palestine. This thread and this have several resources that would be great to utilize, from books and cinema, to companies and resources to educate yourself on the genocide in Gaza. This website allows you to click and donate for free daily. 🇵🇸 From the river to the sea Palestine will be free 🇵🇸
A/N this is a cowrite with @holybananafuck my beloved 🖤
🚨 A/N while there are a lot of adult situations and serious conversations being had through this entire story, it is imperative that you heed warning tags for each chapter. We have compiled a list of resources here for these issues and will add to them as this story progresses. If you or someone you know is struggling with grief, loss, ED, body dysmorphia, disordered eating, self harm, or thoughts there of please know we are always here to help and listen. All of you is celebrated and loved here!
Warnings: Minors DNI, fluff, smut, angst, protected sex, unprotected sex, oral sex female and male receiving, mutual masturbation, grief, drug use, implications of lust, betrayal, eating disorders, disordered eating, body dysmorphia, poor body image, anal sex, recording, sex tape kink, sir kink, grief, loss, loneliness, sadness, crying, extreme portrayal of grief/loss/sadness
🚨🚨‼️TW this chapter includes the portrayal, description, and writing of a car accident and death (of an oc character). Please please be aware of this. An additional TW will be placed before you come to this specific section and it will continue until the end of the chapter. If you do not wish to read this part, or if you feel you may be triggered by such please skip it. I promise you won’t be lost in the plot if you do not read that part. ‼️🚨🚨
Listen as you read
Chapter 6: when the heart would cease ours never knew peace
Chapter 6
Jakes POV 
It wasn’t easy leaving the airport alone, the idea of being without her for two months and some change was hard to fathom. What would you do with your free time? Who would you have lunch with, talk to and share movies with? Nevermind the thoughts about her finding someone better in France, those had already been plaguing you for weeks. They wouldn’t cease to exist now. You stood in the same spot you’d been when you hugged her goodbye for as long as possible, first watching her board her flight. You wanted to be there for reassurance if she got nervous, to be there to wave one last time if she turned around. The closer she got to being out of sight, the more you convinced yourself she wouldn’t turn around to catch a final glimpse of you at all. But she had, just before you’d not be able to catch sight of her at all, she had turned and lifted her hand just barely. You could tell she was still crying, and every part of you wished to run to her and kiss her one final time. But security wouldn’t allow that, you knew that well. You watched as she touched her finger tips to her lips gently and then gestured them toward you, blowing you a final kiss as you returned the sentiment with a gentle nod. You moved from there, toward the long wall that was mostly just glass that allowed you to watch the planes coming and going. She had been one of the last to board, so you knew your wait wouldn’t be long before her plane took off. You’d been right in that, having only stood there for about five minutes before things were beginning to happen. You stared hard at every window you could, hoping for a final glimpse of your girl's pretty face. You were elated when you saw her hand press lightly to the plane window, close to the wing, and then her face appeared. You gave one more wave before patting your hand over your heart and watching her offer you a big grin. She was excited, and that was okay because she deserved to be. But she was also nervous about a lot of things and you knew that also. When her plane was finally off the ground you forced yourself back out to your car, finally allowing the mornings events to sink in. She had nearly said she loved you, again. It was so bittersweet, exciting almost but also frustrating and made your heart ache. Why couldn’t she just tell you how she felt? Why were you always almost hearing that she loved you? Or why was it being said when she was sure it wasn’t something you’d hear? It was the only thing you wanted to hear, and you wanted her to want you to hear it. Pressing your eyes shut, you felt a few stray tears trill down your cheeks. How many times would life bring you to tears over the same girl? You’d cry until every tear drowned the world if it meant she was yours. Pressing the pads of your fingers into your eyes, you rubbed harshly before blinking several times. Stop it, Jacob. As you blew out a slow breath, you reached into your pocket and fished your phone out. You’d promised Bill you’d text once her plane had taken off, a promise you’d intended to keep. You felt kind of bad that SG wasn’t entirely aware of how often you and her dad spoke, but she never really inquired about it either. You were surprised that you’d found such a good friend in the man, as once the idea of meeting him scared the hell out of you. But you’d come to find how alike the two of you were, even though he was closer to your dad’s age than anything. For his friendship, you were thankful even if that meant she would be upset when she eventually found out. 
You hadn’t planned to keep it from her, either. Just it had never really come up so you figured when the time came it would and you would tell her then. With your phone unlocked, you navigated to your text messages and found the thread of messages between the two of you. 
Our girl’s in the air. 
Simple, to the point. You were sure nothing else really needed to be said. Bill had been upset that they wouldn’t be taking her to the airport, and you weren’t entirely sure why she had been kind of distant from him. You knew it bothered Bill, he’d mentioned it a few times and alluded to it being because of whatever conversation they’d had that night in March after the bands first show back. You knew she was likely being stubborn, she always was. You loved that about her at times. Bill had expressed that if they weren’t taking her, he was elated that you were. You agreed, especially considering the night the two of you had shared. A lot of firsts, a lot of new experiences for her and you alike. You tossed your phone into the passenger seat, glancing toward it as you did only to see SG’s favorite blanket folded and lying there. Too late to get it to her now. She slept with that thing nightly, it was her comfort item when she wasn’t feeling well. The one she’d wrapped the two of you up in the first night you’d hung out in her dorm to watch a movie, falling asleep before it even ended. With a gentle intake of air, you huffed a sigh before starting your car and exiting the parking garage. The next two and a half months were about to be long, and lonely. There was only one way you knew to spend it, with your guitar. You headed back to the interstate, starting the two hour journey back to Frankenmuth as you drummed your hands on the steering wheel to one of the songs on a playlist you had made. Your phone dinged as you were stopped at the red light just before the highway, a new text. Since you were stopped, you grabbed your phone and glanced at the notification. A message from Bill stared back at you. 
Bill (SG’s dad): Thanks for making sure she got there on time. She’s never flown before so I figure she was pretty nervous? 
Bill (SG’s dad): feel like grabbing a late lunch with me? There’s a guitar shop downtown I want to look at!
You grinned and shot back a quick text asking him what time he would like to meet, sure you could find something to kill time until then. When the light turned green, you navigated away from the highway as you considered what else his message had said. SG hadn’t told you she had never flown before. You did know how nervous she had been, but you’d chalked that all up to being so far away from home. Finding a book store close by, you parked and texted your parents to let them know you’d be home later in the evening. Bill wanted to meet around 3, so you figured a book store was the best place to hunker down. You took a final glance in your rear view mirror before heading inside, noticing the marks SG had left on your neck. Damn. You’d never had a hickey before, you found them a little tacky and cringe worthy when so blatantly placed where others could see. Not that you hadn’t willingly marked SG’s chest and hips up before, because you had taken advantage of the idea that no one else would see them due to being covered by clothes. Yet, you wanted to wear these with pride. You couldn’t let Bill see them though, not after he had seen the way she had scratched your back up. You messed your hair up some, hoping the length would conceal the evidence of your night together until you could figure something else out. 
“Hey, Jake come look at this,” Bill nodded you over from across the counter where he stood peering down into a jewelry case. How lunch and a guitar shop had turned into roaming through the businesses that lined this particular street, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t say you were disappointed though. You always had good conversations with Bill and it was helping to pass the time and keep your mind off of SG. She had promised to let you know when she landed but her flight was ten hours long, you still had about four hours left before that time would even be close. You’d both found yourself in a niche little shop that specialized in unique jewelry and gifts, browsing through the items as you talked about music and guitars. You padded over to where Bill stood, his finger pressed against the glass and pointing to a sterling silver pendant of a guitar pick with a star cut out of it. 
“Y/n would love that,” Bill chuckled. “Right up her alley.” You peered into the case at it for a few moments before bending down to get a better look. He was right, SG would love it. 
“She would love that, you’re right,” you gave a nod as you stood again, adjusting the scarf you’d looped around your neck to cover the evidence of the night prior. You’d found it in the backseat of your car, probably something Josh or Sam had left behind. You looked so out of place due to the 90 degree weather paired with your new accessory. Bill had even teased you about it some, chuckling about how he didn’t understand the fashion these days. “Would it be weird to get it for her?” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, glancing between her dad and the jewelry case. 
“I don’t think so. I think she would appreciate the thought behind it too.” 
You considered it for a beat before gesturing to an employee to have them remove it from the case for you. You requested they hold it at the register until you were done browsing and then went back to looking around as Bill rambled on about wanting to play a new riff for you that he’d written. You were excited to hear it, busy making a plan for when the two of you could meet up at a time when you’d have your guitar when another item in the last jewelry case caught your eye. You stopped in your tracks, leaning in close to study the dainty ring. It had the North Star carved into the top of it, with one smaller star on each side of the main one. Nothing more than a gold band, the top just slightly wider than the rest. But it was perfect. So simple and dainty, but so very her. She needed it. You needed to get it for her. Would she like it? Would she even wear it? You were lost in your thoughts, studying the ring, when Bill approached. 
“You find something else you like?” His voice startled you, causing you to stand up straight as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t be. 
“Um, ugh y-yeah just looking,” you stuttered nervously. Why were you suddenly so nervous? Maybe, because you were standing there considering buying his daughter a ring knowing full well nothing was even official between the two of you? But it was so perfect, how could you not get it for her? And with the way the last few days had gone, you were hopeful that things were going in the direction you wanted them to go. 
“You look nervous suddenly son, you good?” Bill was chuckling at you as he followed your gaze, your eyes still set on the small ring. You knew the moment he had seen it, the breath sighing out of him softly before he spoke again. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’re looking at a ring…for her?”
Your response was a mere nod as you bit into your lip. “It’s perfect. I think she would love it.” Even if she didn’t love you. But, you were positive she wouldn’t have said it…almost said it…if she didn’t. And even then, the ring didn’t have to mean anything if neither of you wanted it to. It just went with her pendant so well. 
“She would love it. It’s very…her.” 
“Are…are you okay if I buy her a ring? I know things aren’t…I know it hasn’t…” Fuck, you were so damn nervous for real. 
“Son,” Bill clapped his hand in your shoulder. “You don’t need my permission to give her a ring. I mean unless you’re planning to propose with it,” he laughed. “But even then I’d be honored to have you in the family. Get her the ring, you like it. She will definitely like it.” 
So that was it. You didn’t care what it cost. It too would be hers. You gestured once more for the employee, bounding after them to the counter once they’d removed the item for you. As the items were rang up, you found yourself lost in thought. She had left the address for her host family with you, if you wanted to write a letter or something. And her birthday was coming up. You decided you would send the necklace to her, it wouldn’t cost much to mail and maybe she would find comfort in having a little piece of you-the guitar pick-since she’d forgotten her blanket. You planned to save the ring for when she was home, it would be the perfect birthday gift even if you gave it to her a few weeks late. After paying and walking to where you’d both parked, you said goodbye to Bill and began the drive home once more. 
9pm came, and then 10…11. By midnight, you had grown weary and worried. You hadn’t heard a single thing from SG, and she definitely would have made it there already. You’d been laying on your bed, scrolling social media when Josh mentioned Snapchat. That’s it! You hadn’t checked Snapchat, maybe she had messaged you there. You pulled the app up and checked to find one notification from her, time stamped for around the time she should’ve been landing in Paris. Opening it, you were met with the view from her plane window. Paris below, lit up in lights as it was already late there. Close to midnight when she was expected to land. Followed by a second photo, one of the airport terminal. Neither bared text of any kind nor was there a chat message with them. You felt uneasy. There was no way she wouldn’t have said anything to you. Just two photos and then radio silence? That was unlike her. With a huff, you shut your phone and placed it on the bedside table before willing yourself to get some rest. You tossed and turned all night, sleeping very little and when you did you had terrible nightmares of your girl. 
When you awoke, it was already one in the afternoon. You had somehow slept in and no one bothered to get you up. Good thing your only plans for the day was to sit around and do nothing but hope to hear from SG. Picking your phone up from the bedside table, you stood from the bed and made your way to the bathroom. You hadn’t showered the night before and you desperately needed to get clean. You placed your phone on the counter top near the sink and busied yourself getting the shower started. You then moved to undressing, pulling your T-shirt over your head and dropping it to the floor. A quick glimpse in the mirror revealed how tired you looked, worry having kept you up most the night. But now you were annoyed. Why the hell hadn’t she called you? Or so much as texted? You pushed your sweat pants down over your ass and hips, allowing them to fall to the floor before going to do the same with your boxers. Just as you pushed them over your hips and let them fall to the floor your phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Y/n at the top in big bold letters with a photo of the two of you as the contact photo. You grew instantly excited, accepting the call and propping your phone up on the counter against the wall. 
“Space Girl!” You exclaimed, forgetting entirely that you were stood there naked. 
“Strings?” She let out a tired sounding giggle, pretending to cover her eyes while peeking out from between two fingers. “Are you naked?!”
“Oh fuck! Yeah I was getting in the shower,” you couldn’t help but blush, however it wasn’t something she hadn’t seen before. “Are you alone or do I need to get decent?” You could tell she was laying on her side, her phone likely propped up in front of her. 
“I’m alone,” she confirmed, studying what she could see of you. It was then, in the brief moment of silence that you remembered how worried you had been. 
“You didn’t let me know when you landed,” a frown played over your lips as you bent over and rested your elbow on the counter as you stared back at the phone. 
“I know, I’m so sorry Jake. My phone was almost dead and I-.”
“I was worried, it’s been hours since then. I thought you’d been kidnapped or something.” You couldn’t help that you cut her off, you really had been terribly worried. 
“I-I know Strings, I’m trying to apologize.” She sighed and you watched her rub at her eyes before shifting around, noticeably wincing. “My phone was nearly dead and I, I was so sore. My host family picked me up at the airport and I could barely walk my body hurt so much,” she gave you those puppy dog eyes of hers through the phone, desperate for you to forgive her. 
“And the last twelve hours you couldn’t call?” 
“I was asleep,” she frowned again. “I didn’t even unpack yet, I plugged my phone in so I could call you and I just woke up like half hour ago.” You considered the ten hours leading up to her flight, how many times you’d had sex. How many things she had let you do or try, and how adamant she had been that she wanted it to hurt to walk. You guessed you’d succeeded and fulfilled her wish. You watched her yawn and rub at her eyes again, her lids heavy and half closed. 
“You do look very tired, sweetheart,” you sighed, standing up straight and stretching your body. 
“Mm yeah I am but that’s okay. I’ve got a nice view right now so I’ll keep my eyes open.” She meant the window right? No. Judging by the way she was watching you through the video you could tell she was absolutely referring to you. “Miss you beautiful boy,” she offered sleepily. 
“I miss you pretty girl. Maybe you should rest more, it’s already night there isn’t it?”
“Erm, 7ish yeah,” another yawn, her arms stretching above her as she winced again. 
“SG, are you that sore?”
“I am effectively fucked out, still.” You could hear her giggle after, melting at the very sound of it. “But I love it.”
You tried to bite back the smile that spread over your face but it was hard to contain it. “Hey hold on,” you moved away from view of the camera and switched the water from running a shower, putting the stopper in the drain and beginning a bath. As you did this, you could hear her talking to you from the phone. 
“What’re you doing Jakey? I can let you go if you’re getting in the shower?”
“Don’t you dare let me go.” You meant it. You really meant it. Returning to the counter, you picked the phone up and carried it to the tub with you. “I’m just gonna take a bath instead so I can chat with this pretty girl who FaceTimed me.” You talked as you sat down in the tub, moving around until you were comfortable. 
“That sounds good. A nice hot bath.” You loved the way she sounded when she was tired, the words lazing out of her in a low sultry tone. Much like when she was turned on. 
“Yeah? Feels good, nice warm water,” you teased. 
“Can we do that when I get home? Take a bath together?” Oh. She wanted to do that with you? The thought made your heart pound, pulse throbbing in your ears as you smiled at your phone. 
“Of course we can.” 
“Perfect,” the word purred out of her, eliciting a physical response from your body as you felt your cock twitch in arousal. Fuck. Not now, you were trying desperately to behave. 
“Y/n,” you warned, whether she had used that tone intentionally or not. 
“Yes sir?” Fuuuuuck. Your eyes fell closed as you swallowed hard, your Adam’s apple bobbing as you did. “What’s wrong Strings?” She still had that tone to her voice. You know, for someone so tired and sore she sure didn’t mind teasing you did she? 
“Don’t start something you aren’t here to finish,” you rasped, moving your foot up and using your toes to shut the water faucet off now that the tub was filled to your liking. 
“Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean I couldn’t finish it,” her eyebrows perked as you watched her on your phone. 
“How ya going to do that hm?” You were curious, to say the least, your free hand falling into the water and stroking slowly along your length. Another hard swallow, the nervous spit collecting at the back of your mouth. You already knew where this could go, it was simply a matter now of would it go that way. Her response was silence, opting instead to pull the T-shirt she was wearing off before adjusting where her phone sat so you could see more of her body. She pushed her underwear down over her hips slowly, bending one leg and then the other to remove the garment before tossing them aside. 
“I miss your hands on my body,” she whispered, running her own hand slowly down the valley between her breasts. You took a shaky breath in, your hand still pumping your length as you grew harder. 
“Touch yourself for me, SG, imagine your hands are mine.” You matched her tone and volume, watching with rapt attention as she followed your instruction. She ghosted her hand down her stomach, over her hip and down the top of her thigh before looping over to her inner thigh and up where her fingers pushed between her folds and she slowly drug them against her sensitive bud. You could hear her sigh quietly, her eyes on the phone the entire time. 
“Are you touching yourself?” Her question was curious, so you angled your hand so the phone gave her a view of your hand stroking over yourself. “Miss doing that for you,” she whimpered quietly, shifting so she was more on her back and then running her free hand over her breasts. She teased her finger tips around one of her nipples, her opposite hand still between her legs as she pressed tight slow circles against her clit. With each stroke of your hand, you made sure to run the pad of your thumb over the tip before following that motion with the expanse of your palm as well. 
“Fuck, wish you were here to do it for me,” you panted, your eyes never leaving the screen as you watched her play with herself as she watched you do the same. SG brought her hand up, her tongue darting out and licking her fingers before she returned them to her heat. “Fuck yourself with them,” you instructed, increasing the pace at which you were pumping your fist along your cock. She gave you a nod, her fingers moving down to tease at her entrance. She’d definitely done this a time or two. The idea that she had played with herself turned you on beyond belief, and you wondered if she thought of you as she did. That thought drove you crazy, your speed picking up as you watched her fuck two of her thin fingers into her pussy and pump them in and out. 
“Jake,” she whimpered your name softly, the pad of her thumb pressing against her sensitive bundle as she fucked her fingers in and out of herself. “Wanna feel you right now,” gasped out of her. 
“Keep going, princess,” you urged, knowing you yourself were getting closer to release. 
“Call me that again,” she begged, winded and whining. “Please, baby.” 
Fuck. How was it possible that even 4,000 miles away she could have you falling apart for her? You sank down in the tub some, making sure the angle you held the phone at captured your face as well as your torso and groin area. 
“Tell me how good it feels, princess,” you instructed, watching as her eyelids fluttered shut. Well, that wouldn’t do. You wanted her to watch you, badly. “Eyes on me, babe.” Her eyes snapped open to watch you through the phone again, teeth biting down into her bottom lip as she tried to silence her moans. 
“Feels. Fuck so good Jake,” she pinched and pulled at her nipple, the pebbled skin taught and reddened with arousal as her knees fell open further. 
“Get up on your knees, SG. I wanna watch you cum as I do.” Where had this sense of confidence come from, for the both of you? She eagerly followed your instructions, scrambling up to her knees and leaning back on her heels for you. She could still see her phone screen, her eyes watching you raptly. She moved her knees wide apart and went back to fucking her fingers up into herself, free hand massaging and squeezing at her breasts. 
“Strings?”
“Yeah princess?” 
“M’gonna cum. Oh fuck,” her chest heaved as her body tensed, her fingers fucking up into her fast and rough. You matched her speed, your cock pulsing and twitching in your palm as you climbed closer and closer to the rocky ledge of your impending release. “Jake, Jake fuck! Fu- Jake,” she chanted as she came hard around her fingers. You followed shortly behind, groaning her name into the air as you came just as hard, spurts of your hot release streaming down over your fisted hand as you did. 
“Fuck,” you cleared your throat as you both calmed down, your cock still held loosely in your hand. “Baby I gotta clean up.” 
“Me too,” she sighed, collapsing onto the bed and pulling the phone closer to her so you were looking at only her face again. “Text me when you’re done? I’ll be up for a little bit before I try and sleep more. Classes start tomorrow.”
“Yeah, of course princess.” She smiled slowly at that, her eyes closing for a moment. When she blinked them open again, they glistened with tears pooling in the corner. “SG, don’t cry baby. You’re going to love it there so much.” 
“Yeah, yeah I know,” she sniffled and blinked a time or two before offering you another smile. “I’ll talk to you later, Strings.” 
“Bye pretty girl,” you hung up the FaceTime call shortly there after, tossing the phone to the floor so you could pull the stopper from the drain. You stood then, flipping the shower back on so you could actually get clean. 
Her POV 
Paris, France was…interesting. Actually, it was beautiful and awe inspiring and you couldn’t wait to explore it, but being so far from home and so far from Jake made you feel incredibly sad. The first few days had been spent resting, mostly. Between jet lag and the way your body ached from your night with Jake, you’d needed nearly a full day to recuperate. And then that FaceTime call had sent you into overdrive, and despite still feeling exhausted the two of you had sent iMessages and snapchats back and forth until nearly 4am Paris time. Most of them innocent, sweet messages. You confessing to crying because you already missed him so much. Him returning the sentiment.  But a few messages veered into the direction of not being safe for others to see. He promised no one else would see those snapchats you sent, and you agreed about the ones he sent in return. It felt like a dirty little secret in a way, thrilling and risky, and you liked that. The risk turned you on. 
When you weren’t spending time messaging Jake, your first week had been spent between classes and getting to know your host family and the other two students living with them for the summer semester. Natalià was your age and from Portugal, there studying business. An only child, her parents were wealthy and well known in her community. Elio was 23 and Italian, studying liberal arts. You’d learned from Elio that he liked to be called ‘E’, had grown up living with his grandparents and spoke fluent Italian, English and French. You knew pretty instantly that you and Elio would be friends, he reminded you of Jake in several ways. He was incredibly sweet and a little shy, but the two of you had hit it off near instantly. You’d told him all about growing up in Grand Rapids, your parents and siblings and especially Jake. Truth be told, you’d probably talked more about Jake than anyone or anything. Unable to keep your mind off of him at all times. The night of your sixth day in Paris had been interesting, Elio had insisted on adventuring through the city and asked you to come along. You obliged, eager to see areas you hadn’t yet due to classes and a general fear of venturing off in your own. E had rented a Vespa and the two of you had rode around until you found your way to the Canal Saint-Martin. E insisted on a canal tour of Paris on a barge, since it was your first time there. It had been on that god forsaken barge, mid conversation about how much you knew Jake would appreciate the beautiful architecture of France, when Elio proposed a thought he had been having pertaining to your favorite guitarist. 
“You know, mon amor, tu es amoureux,” he spoke in his thick accent, mixing his English and French so easily through his thought. You’d grown to learn that E had a tendency to slip between English and French and sometimes slipped Italian in, thoroughly confusing you as you tried to grasp at what he was saying with the French that you did know from high school. “This guitarist friend of yours, he is…how you say in English…the love of your life?” 
“Elio, Jake and I are,” you huffed as he cut you off. 
“Juste amis?” A perfectly manicured brow raised at you as he studied you from where he sat. Elio was, for lack of better words, gorgeous. Most women, you’d seen thus far, fawned over him and doted so much it nearly made you sick. You were sure that’s probably how people saw Jake too though. E had thick dark wavy hair that he kept long on top and a bit shorter along the sides. You wondered if his hair was how Josh’s would look if he were to let it grow out? Probably. Where your favorite guitarist had deep coffee colored irises, Elio’s shone such a bright blue they reminded you of the afternoon sun on a perfectly cloudless day. Flecks of cerulean speckling the icy blue, seemingly darkening whenever he was in a playful mood. 
“Yes, just friends, E.” You knew it was more than just friends, at the heart of it all. Jake had told you time and again that your feelings for him weren’t the same as his feelings for you, but the word love had slipped out a few times in regards to how you felt for Strings. Almost involuntary, the word would find its way off your tongue and past your teeth at the most inconvenient of times. Times when Jake were asleep and your face was pressed against his chest as you listened to the rhythm of his heart beating or the slow, tepid waves of the soft breaths puffing out of him. Times when you had to physically stop yourself from saying it, or when you did say it and he simply didn’t hear. Were you in love with him? Six days ago you’d have said that yes, you loved him, but in love? That felt foreign. You were sure you’d never been in love before, and the idea that E was so adamant that you were was shocking. 
“He is, Mon amour, all you speak of.”
“So?” You crossed your arms over your chest, effectively pouting as he watched you with a smirk on his face. 
“You should tell him.” Elio left you with that, changing the subject shortly after to draw your attention to the design of one of the buildings along the canal. After the canal tour, you’d both returned back to your host families house and you resigned to the bedroom. You spent the rest of that night lost deep in your thoughts. 
By morning, you knew the truth. Elio was right, painfully so. You were in love with Jacob, a thought that had a smile plastered to your face all day as you sat through classes. By the time you’d returned home, you couldn’t wait to tell him. You knew Jake would FaceTime you around seven, the time you’d been video chatting every other day if you could. It hadn’t been lost on Elio that you conveniently timed most of your calls to line up with when your host family had dinner. You’d joined them once, the second night, but since then you always had a reason, an excuse, to not partake in dinner. First it was your stomach was upset, and then you needed to catch up on some reading for class, and now FaceTime calls from home. They understood, for now, but you had the sneaking suspicion that Elio questioned your reasoning. No matter, you looked forward to your call with Jake so when he texted you to say Josh had called a mandatory band rehearsal for an upcoming show you were let down. You decided if you couldn’t tell him on FaceTime, you’d write him a letter and mail it. Afraid that you would back out of telling him if you didn’t get it out somehow.  You poured hours into how you wanted to say things, feeling that he deserved also to know some of the things you’d yet to tell him. Like how you’d begun starving yourself in eighth grade, how awful you’d been to your parents in that time. The way you couldn’t stand the body you were in. You hoped that one day you could accept yourself and the skin you were in, hopeful that the day would come when you could love yourself so fully. But until then, at least in the comfort of Jake’s loving embrace you could try to love yourself. You mailed the letter the next morning on the way to classes. 
Jakes POV 
“Set the grill over here, Jake,” Dad instructed, watching with his hands on his hips as you wheeled the grill to the edge of the patio. 
“Here, son, have a beer,” Bill offered, opening a Corona for you and handing it to Dad to give to you. It was hot, the humidity of the day causing the sweat to soak through your T-shirt as you gulped back the cold liquid. 
“Bill, how’s business been?” Dad questioned, making quick work to get the grill started. You watched as Mom placed a plate of hamburger patties near the grill for you to get started. This made the third weekend in a row your parents and hers spent together, and you knew eventually Bill would bring his guitar out and so would Dad and you’d be asked to bring yours too. Sam usually would join and if Danny was available, he would too. Josh and Mom would jokingly sing made up songs or the lyrics to whatever you all played. It was like SG’s parents had been a part of the family always, and you wished she weren’t in Paris so she could be a part of the fun too. 
“Picked up a little with the nice weather after a few slow months,” Bill opened a beer for himself and handed Dad his own. “Jake, how’s work going?” Bill had set you up toward the end of the semester with a friend of his who ran a media company that needed front desk help. It was the only thing you occupied your time with apart from shows and messaging with Y/n. It paid decently and you’d been putting money back to gift Bill his dream guitar. You thought it was the least you could do for how welcoming he had been to you, and how encouraging he was over your relationship with his daughter. 
“It’s been good, the pay isn’t terrible and all I do is answer phones mostly but Steve has taught me a lot about publishing and such.” You set your beer down and got to work laying the pattie’s out in the grill. 
“Have you heard from Y/n?” Her mom joined everyone outside, a plate of cut up vegetables on a large plate in her hands. You figured if she was asking, that meant SG hadn’t spoken to them. You wished you knew exactly what had happened, and why she seemed to be literally avoiding not just her parents but Bill specifically. 
“Uh, yeah, we talked this morning for a bit. She’s doing good, seems a little homesick but she likes her classes.” 
“That’s good, tell her to call home when she gets the chance,” her mom smiled politely. You took a sideways glance over to Bill who was frowning slightly. Time to change the subject. 
“Bill, that piece you sent me was so damn good. You should play it later, I’d like to see how Josh feels about it.” Bill agreed happily, mentioning he needed to bring his guitar from his car anyway and then he jogged off to go get it. 
“What about this,” Josh cleared his throat and signaled to you to start up the riff you’d been working on that you were sure would fit perfectly with the unfinished song Bill had sent you. 
When you began to play, Bill and Dad both fell into following your movements and playing the same chords. 
“Looking at the sky I see the city lights,” Josh sang out softly. “But no star fights. I never wanna fall asleep…” 
“That’s good that’s so good Josh, keep going!” Mom encouraged as your twin hummed along with the tune you were playing. By the end of the song, everyone seemed really excited about what had just transpired and you looked over to where Mom sat. You noticed she had been recording the entire time. 
“Mom, could you send me that maybe?” Your brows jumped at your question and you mouthed thank you when she agreed that she would. You watched her send the video immediately to your phone, feeling it vibrate in your pocket once it had delivered. You knew that song was bound to be something special. Bill had sent you what he had written a few weeks before, letting you know it was a melody he used to hum to SG that he had kind of made up in the moment one night when she was sick. That had turned into working it out on the guitar and he wanted to complete the song, or see if you could work it into something better, to surprise her. 
Her POV 
“Can you see Space Girl?” Jake asked from across the world it felt like, adjusting where his phone was sat atop one of his amps. He smiled at the camera as he glanced toward the view on screen. It was already 2am where you were, but you insisted on staying up to watch him perform. 
“Looks good Strings,” you confirmed, glancing up as Elio stood at your door. He held up a joint in offering, mouthing ‘womp womp’ when you shook your head no. 
“Who you talking to Space Girl?” Jake inquired, messing with the settings on his amp. He had noticed you look up and decline E’s offer, though the likelihood of seeing anything more than your face was small considering how close you held the phone to you. 
“Just E,” you shrugged, assuming he had received and read your letter. You’d mailed it nearly three weeks ago, surely it would’ve been there by now? You’d received a small, thick envelope from him around your tenth day in France. A sterling silver guitar pick on a chain, a star cut out of the center of it sat between both sides of a folded piece of paper. You loved the necklace, immediately putting it on and refusing to take it off. His included note, short and sweet, you used as a book mark in your journal. Every so often, feeling homesick and weary, you would pull it out and read it. Your fingers dancing over each word he had carefully written. Sure that, any time now, he would mention your letter. But the time had yet to come and though curious to how long it really took for a letter to make it around the world, you assumed it simply hadn’t arrived yet. 
“I think we’re all set,” you could hear Sam say. “Are you seriously FaceTiming her again?” 
“Yes Sam, if she can’t be here physically her presence is still important to me in this way.” You chewed your lip as you waited for Jake to divert his attention back to yourself. Why did it sound like Sam didn’t want his brother to talk to you? 
“Hey, SG, your dad’s here, want me to take my phone over to him so you can say hey before we go on?” 
“Uh, no it’s okay.” You watched Jake frown momentarily before recovering and watching you on his screen. 
“I’ll tell him hey for you anyway.” He didn’t give you time to answer after that, blowing a kiss your way. “Enjoy the show babe.” 
“I’ll call you back when I get to the house?” Jake asked, peering down at the screen of his phone. 
“Yeah!” You grinned, watching your phone screen as he wiped the back of his hand along his forehead and flicked the sweat off before hanging up. It had been two additional weeks since the bands last show, and they’d just played an outdoor festival. You could imagine how hot it was in Michigan, and they’d played at noon which you knew was likely the hottest point of the day. Jakes drenched button up confirmed that for you. He still hadn’t mentioned your letter, but you planned to ask him about it when he got home. Your classes were going well, and you’d spent the majority of your free time messaging and talking to Jake or hanging out with Elio. You and Jake hadn’t had another call like that first FaceTime when you’d gotten to France, but you’d sent a lot of risqué photos back and forth. Your messages had grown very flirty, though they were a lot when you were home also. You missed him. And on top of all of that, you missed the way it felt to be with him. You longed for him, your body ached to feel his embrace. The two of you had planned to have some alone time, in the only way you could, considering the rest of his family were planning to stay at the festival and he would be alone in the house. 
“Mon amour,” Elio cooed from the doorway to your bedroom,  interrupting your thoughts. “You sure you aren’t feeling well enough to go to dinner with us?” He cocked his head to the side as he watched you shake your head. 
“My stomach is too upset, E. And Jake is going to call soon.” 
“That is who I heard?” He questioned, his accent prominent in those words. 
“Mmhmmm,” you nodded happily. 
“What is…a space girl?” Your cheeks flamed when he asked, you adored the nickname Jake had given you but Elio saying it made you giggle. 
“It’s what he calls me…because I am majoring in physics with a specialization in astronomy.” You stated proudly. 
“And have you told him you are in love with him?”
“I wrote him a letter, Elio,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 
“I think this guitar guy is in love with you too, little space girl.” Elio left after that, chuckling and muttering something about ‘fille de l’espace’. In his absence, you ran to the en suite bathroom and washed your face and brushed your teeth quickly. After, you ran a brush through your hair and then returned to the bedroom where you got comfortable on the bed. You smoothed down the front of the T-shirt you were wearing, not thinking about how it was Elio’s. Had you had the mind for it, you’d have changed. In your excitement for Jake’s return call, he was the only thing you could think of. Twenty minutes went by and then thirty. By forty after seven Jake had yet to call back. You busied yourself braiding your hair back into two braids, and then thumbing through a book until you heard the ringtone you’d assigned to Jake’s contact only. Hozier’s song Take Me to Church. You picked your phone up and pressed the accept button, grinning as Jake came into view. 
“Hi handsome,” you squeaked, laying back on the bed as you watched him walk around his bedroom. 
“Sorry it took so long, traffic was crazy.” He grinned down at the phone before shutting his bedroom door. “Your hair looks cute.” 
“Thank you,” you breathed, moving to lay on your stomach and propping the phone up against a pillow as you watched the screen. The two of you were quiet for a few moments as Jake kicked his shoes off and then walked down to the kitchen where he took a bottle of beer from the fridge and carried it back to his room. You watched him pop it open and take a long pull from the bottle before placing it on the end table near his bed. 
“Let me find somewhere to prop this up. Little bit different than the tub,” his cheeks blushed a deep pink as he spoke, nervousness perhaps. 
“Okay,” you agreed, watching as he moved around his room. “You played phenomenally today,” you commented, smiling when he did. 
“Thanks babe. Wish you could’ve been here in person to see it.” 
“Mm me too. But only three or four more weeks and I’ll be home.”
“Seems too long to me.” He giggled a little as he set his phone up and stepped back from it. “Can you see well?” 
“Mm yeah,” you studied him through the screen as he smirked and then moved to turn the radio in his room on. You watched as he flipped the console from playing the radio to a record, and then as he moved on to thumb through his records until he found one he wanted to play. He took the vinyl out and then placed it gently onto the turntable, reading the needle and starting the record. 
“The Assosciation,” he informed you as he returned to stand closer to where he’d propped his phone up. 
“I like it. Sounds kinda romantic,” you commented, noting the lyrics of the song. Never my love, what makes you think love will end when you know that my whole life depends on you. Jake gave a nod, biting into his lip as he pulled his hair out of the messy knot he’d tied it back in at some point. He shook it out and grinned wildly at the camera, causing your heart rate to quicken. 
“I’ll play it for you when you’re home, princess,” he rasped. You let out an audible whimper at the nickname, your eyes rounding out as you watched him slowly begin to unbutton his button up. 
“Okay,” you breathed, practically drooling as he splayed the sides of his shirt open and let the sleeves fall off his shoulders before removing it slowly. 
“Mind if I slip into something more comfortable?” As if he needed to even ask. You yearned to see every inch of him again. 
“Go ahead,” you sighed, watching as the smirk he wore grew a bit more devious. Slowly, he undid the leather belt he wore, the buckle clanging against itself as he worked to undo it. When he had, he pulled it swiftly through his belt loops-an act that you never thought would turn you on and yet, you felt the arousal pool at your center as you watched him. Fuck.  He took apart the button on his jeans then, facing the camera the entire time with his chin raised in confidence.  Jake slowly rolled the zipper down its track before pushing the material down over his hips. You watched as they fell around his ankles and he kicked his feet out of them, taking a moment to gather the clothing articles and toss them into his hamper before turning back to his phone. 
“What’re you doing, Space Girl? You watching me? You little voyeur you.” 
“Can’t help it, Jake,” you sighed dreamily. “Hey…d-did you get the letter I sent you yet?” 
“Letter? No?” He stared at your face on his phone screen, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as he ran his thumb under the waist band of his boxer briefs. 
“Oh, I thought it would be there by now… anyway.” Okay so, you couldn’t just bust out an I love you, it would confuse him. You tried not to worry about the missing letter, surely it would turn up soon on his end. 
“What did you write about in it, princess?” That fucking nickname again, this time eliciting an audible moan from your lips as you watched him push the material of his boxers lower and lower on his hips until they were down so far his cock was on full display for you. He wasn’t even hard, and yet it was beautiful. You missed all of him, and seeing him naked was a harsh reminder of that. 
“Strings, don’t tease,” you begged. 
“Why sweetheart?” His head cocked to the side as he let his boxers fall to the floor in the same fashion as he had his jeans. 
“Miss you…want you,” you pouted and he giggled, obviously enjoying the way you seemed to want him. You watched as he slid a pair of sweats on slowly, his eyes never leaving the phone. “Need you,” you couldn’t help but add that on at the end, watching as he picked his phone up and took it with him to his bed. Much like you usually did when the two of you FaceTimed, he laid on his side and propped the phone up with a pillow. The music was still playing softly as the two of you watched one another. 
“Y/n,” you heard Elio call as he opened your door, stepping inside as you turned to your side so you could look over at him. “Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he spoke in English as he came closer to the bed. 
“It’s okay, what’s up?” Your eyebrows raised toward him as he dropped to the edge of your bed, in perfect view of the camera. “Hello.” He raised a hand and waved slightly toward the phone. “Is this your guitarist friend?” He emphasized friend in a weird way and you knew it to be because of the conversation the two of you had had before he left. 
“SG?” You could hear Jake question, glancing to the phone and then back to Elio. 
“Yeah, yeah. Jake, this is E. Elio this is Jake.” The smile that had been on Jake’s face disappeared, and while you didn’t know it he was 4,000 miles away suddenly feeling more insecure than he ever had before. Seething over the fact he’d spent an entire month just assuming the nickname E was short for Ellie, or Elizabeth, or even Emily. Not a guys name. And you’d given him a nickname? No. 
“Hey,” Jake offered in a low tone, causing you to glance between his face on your phone screen and where E sat next to you.  
“My pleasure.” Elio’s attention turned back to you then. “I will not continue to interrupt, mon amour, I just brought you a small snack.” He took a container from the bag he had carried in, a spread of cheese cubes, crackers, and some type of meat as well as some grapes. Elio set the container in front of you on the bed, and in the name of being polite you opened it and popped a cheese cube into your mouth without hesitation. Elio was all too aware of your struggles with consuming food, having confronted you about it a week or so earlier. You’d only confessed to him about your issues because he simply wouldn’t leave the topic alone. He had been ensuring that you ate at least once a day since. Annoying. “Puisque tu ne pouvais pas venir,” he added, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek before standing and moving toward the door. “Oh, little space girl,” he stopped and turned to you. “If you can just put my shirt in my clothes basket when you change from it, I will launder it with the rest of my things on Sunday.” Elio left your room then, pulling the door shut behind him. You popped another cheese cube and a piece of prosciutto into your mouth as you turned back to your phone, your attention entirely on Jake now. His eyes had narrowed angrily, the color darkening so deep they appeared black as he grimaced at his phone. 
“What did he say when he gave you the food?” 
“Huh? Oh. It, it doesn’t really translate well, Jake,” you offered, mostly because you knew what the words meant loosely, but you weren’t entirely sure of the phrasing. You knew the idea of what he had said was that the food was because you hadn’t gone to dinner with them. You took a few grapes up and studied them before popping one into your mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Why?”
“Did I hear him say you’re wearing his shirt?” He seemed so…angry? His voice had raised a little, like he was ready to yell at you and you felt yourself shrinking away from the confrontation that seemed to suddenly be brewing. 
“Well. I mean yeah. E just. He gave me the shirt when he spilt…mine was wet and I…” you rambled out, panic setting in as you weren’t sure why Jake suddenly seemed so angry and why it felt like you’d done something wrong based on the tone in which he was speaking to you. 
“Fucking seriously,” he grumbled and before you could offer up a more informative explanation he ended the call. You quickly hit the option to FaceTime him back, staring at your phone in disbelief as he let it ring through until your phone notified you that the call attempt had failed. Great. You typed out a quick text, wanting to explain what had happened to him in hopes that he would respond or call you back. 
Jake, I’m sorry Elio interrupted us. He brought me food because I told him my stomach was a little upset and everyone else went to dinner. And I had his shirt on because he tripped at breakfast and spilt coffee on mine as I was leaving for class. E was just being kind and took his shirt off to lend to me so I wouldn’t be late in leaving. I just forgot when I got home and hadn’t changed yet Jake but it wasn’t anything more. I’m so sorry if it seemed that way, can you please just call me back? 
You wait for Jake to answer, but to no avail. A mere ten minutes with him ignoring you is all it takes to realize how your dad must feel during the radio silence you’d been paying him. The guilt feels all consuming, why did you always have to be so stubborn? You finally break and decide to text Dad. After all, you were his only child, your half siblings didn’t care to have much of a relationship with him. You’re practically all he has in that sense. Always daddy’s little girl, yet you were so adamant on treating him this way, for what? Nobody gained from the distance you’d emotionally and physically put between the two of you. You find yourself deleting chunks and typing slowly until the message is crafted perfectly enough. 
Daddy, I’m so sorry for ignoring you, I miss you. I never should have left without telling you I love you. I’m sorry for always messing everything up. Wish I was in your arms while you sing my song. Thank you for this, for everything. I love you, forever. 
Again, you lay waiting for an answer you’re not sure you’ll ever get. With your birthday a few days away, and neither of your favorite men, you’re unsure of what the future will hold. Will your dad play the same game? Ignore you for weeks as you did him? Surely he wouldn’t, every year for as long as you could remember he’d made sure to wish you a happy birthday at the exact time of your birth. If Dad didn’t answer tonight, or even tomorrow, you try to ease your nerves with the confidence he’ll keep up on tradition. You check your thread with Jake one last time, seeing he still hasn’t even read your text. 
Jake’s POV
The urge to answer the call flashing across your screen was prevalent, but you truly had no desire for an explanation at this point. Instead you watch her name dance across the lit screen paired with that picture of you two under the stairwell. Tears well in your eyes, one's combination of anger and a tinge of sadness, betrayal. At the end of the day, you’re to remind yourself she isn’t really yours. Leaving your phone on your bed, you walk to your dresser and grab a pair of sweatpants. You slide them up your legs, slamming the drawer shut as you turn to walk away. You slam the drawer so hard the items on top fall to the ground, causing a loud crash to fill the room as everything topples over, only followed by the sound of glass shattering into a million tiny pieces. You hesitate to look down at the result of your anger, eventually giving in only to be met with your favorite framed photo broken across the floor. It felt like a sick metaphor in a way, a sign from the universe. Some kind of proof that even if you took her with you, something would still get broken. The sound of familiar feet hauling up the stairs makes you wince. When did they get home, and how long had they been? 
“Jake? Jaaaaake??” Sam’s voice echoes on the other side of your door paired with sporadic knocks. Sam takes your lack of response as an invite into your space. “Ja- I- oh? What happened?” Sam points down to the shards of glass laying across your floor. Seriously, how’d it even break like this against the carpet? 
“Why’re you guys home?” It came off harsh, but due to the circumstances you don’t find yourself caring much about tone. 
“Josh drank too much and got sick. Mom’s making him tea and whatnot downstairs. You okay, though?” Sam fully steps into your room and attempts to pick up the larger chunks of glass beside your dresser. 
“Sam, did I get any mail? From Y/n?” 
“What?” He stands up to toss the debris into your trashcan, returning to his standing position in front of your door. 
“Mail, Sam. Did I get mail from Y/n?” You watch Sam’s body tense up as he rocks back on his heels, his arms locked behind his back. “Sam, if you don’t tell me it’s only gonna hurt you.” 
“Yeah.” He mumbles so lowly you barely make it out, but the shame and guilt plastered across his face is a tell all for his actions. Knowing his answer, you ask him again. 
“What was that, Sammy boy? I don’t think I heard you.” You both knew that was a lie, mostly given away by how close you’d gotten to your baby brother and how quick his hand flew to the handle. “Where the fuck is it?!” You yell as you rush Sam into your door, pushing it shut behind him. 
“I don’t know, Jake.” He huffed. You lock your arm around his neck and bring him to the ground, pressing his cheek into the carpet. “Jake, you’re hurting me! Stop!” Sam’s words are muffled from his inability to move his lips properly. 
“Tell me where it is!” You lay on top of Sam, allowing all of your weight to rest across his belly. 
“Let me go! I can’t breathe!” Sam starts kicking and punching at you until ultimately you give up, releasing your grip. 
“Where. Is. It.” You enunciate each word, hoping, praying to drill in your request, no, demand. Sam scrambles out from underneath your limbs, plopping onto the end of your bed. You bring yourself to your feet and stand before him. 
“I-I got rid of it, Jake. It was a dumb letter.” Fuck, so her letter really had made it? 
“Sam, I need to know what that letter said.” 
“I dunno, something ‘bout starving herself and Elio.” 
“Fuck… fuck fuck fuck…” It was seemingly the only word you could make out. Was she not eating again? Had he started taking care of her the way you did? You’d be glad all of her progress wouldn’t rapidly decline, but the selfish side of you hated the idea of someone else urging her to nourish her body. Someone else taking care of her the way you always so desperately wanted to.
“Jake, I don’t get why you care so much.” 
“I don’t get why you’d throw my fucking shit away.” 
“You’re right, shit is what it was. God, it’s so obvious she has a little French lover.” 
“Pretty sure he’s Italian.” You remark, not to defend Elio in any way, but simply to state a fact. 
“Okay, then, Italian lover. What matters is that she doesn’t love you, Jake.” 
“Don’t say that.” 
“She doesn’t love you, doesn’t love you, doesn’t love you! Maybe if I say it enough times, it’ll be drilled into your thick skull!” You’re standing dangerously close to Sam, your fist balled and ready for contact with his stupid permanent smirk. “Go ahead! Hit me! Everyone already thinks you’re crazy after Thanksgiving!” Sam brings his arms out between the two of you and shoves you away. 
“You don’t know what love is, Sam!” And with that, your fist makes contact with his lip. Sam screams in pain and brings his hand to press against his rapidly swelling lip. 
“Fuck, Jake! I know what love isn’t! Love isn’t banging some guy in France while your psycho not-real-boyfriend beats the shit out of every one of his family members back home!” 
“Maybe if you guys stopped talking shit-”
“She doesn’t need a knight in shining armor, Jake! She needs to stop leading my brother on! Then maybe, JUST MAYBE, I’d consider liking her!” Sam stands up from your bed, his fingers still pressed against his lips. “Jake, I love you, but it needs to stop. I can’t watch her hurt you over and over again.” Sam’s words sting, only hitting deeper as he shuts the door behind himself, leaving you with your own thoughts. Sure, you could lay here for hours and contemplate everything, but you’d much rather cry about these big emotions you’re not used to. The feeling of loving someone so much that it has begun to physically hurt not just yourself but those around you. The Thanksgiving incident was already bad enough, so bad in fact your parents almost got you into anger management classes. All you can hope is that this wouldn’t be the last straw. Jake Kiszka, professional brother-beater-upper and simp.
You lay in the fetal position on your bed and stuff your face into the pillows to muffle your crying. Why was it so hard to get her to see you were right there? Always so close, yet so far away from what you both deserve. Each other. Maybe she just doesn’t see it that way, maybe you’ll really never be anything more to her. You contemplate calling her back, mostly for an explanation to ease your mind, but in the same breath to simply hear your girl. To see her. You decide not to just yet, but maybe later after you’ve calmed down and your face isn’t red from crying. God did you feel awful for hanging up, just adding to the reasons you were crying. What feels like hours passes before you start to fall asleep, your pounding headache aiding in the process. A knock at your door ushers your swollen eyes open. 
“Mmwhat…?” You groan, in hopes whoever it is can hear you through the pillows. 
“Jake, honey, it’s Mom. Can I come in?” Her voice sounded worried again, like it did every time she talked to you as of late. 
“Yeah,” your voice trails off and is drowned out by the door clicking behind Mom as she makes her way to your bed. 
“Sweetheart, what is all of this on the floor?” She sucks her teeth and sighs at the mess. “I’ll clean it up, don’t want you getting hurt.” She’s adamant she is the one to clean up your mess, just like always. She sits at the foot of your bed and you sit up to see her holding the picture of you and SG, dragging her fingers over the tattered edges. Part of you wants to rip it from her hands and tear it to shreds, but you can’t. You won’t. It’s the only one in existence, having come from a disposable camera. You remember waiting weeks for the film to be developed, uncaring of all the other pictures. This was the only one that mattered, and the only one you had. You finally break the silence when Mom looks over to you, her eyes visibly filled with worry. 
“Is Sammy boy okay?” Your lip quivers and a tear spills over your lash line . You didn’t want to cry in front of her, but you couldn’t help it. 
“Yes, dear. He’s okay, just a little shook up. His lip is swollen, but nothing that ice won’t bring down.” She brings her hand to your cheek and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 
“And Josh?” 
“He’s been asleep on the couch since we got home. Gave him water and crackers. Now my question is, are you okay?” She turns her body to completely face you, the question eliciting sobs from you. It’s obvious you weren’t okay, and as much as you wanted to save your mom the hassle, you couldn’t deny the fact anymore. 
“I don’t know anymore, Mom.” You grab your sheets in your fists and look up to the ceiling in attempts to push the tears back where they source from. “I just don’t get it.” You pleadingly whisper. 
“What don’t you get, honey?” Her hand falls to rest on your shoulder before it flows down to rest over your hand. You let your head fall back down, your messy locks falling from behind your ears. The tears pour from your eyes, dripping down your nose and onto the back of Mom’s hand. 
“What’s wrong with me? Why does she only say she loves me when she thinks I’m not listening?” Mom pulls you into her arms, resting your head against her shoulder as she rubs your back. 
“My little boy, nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect, and I think she knows that. But I also think she’s scared.” 
“Of me? I-I don’t try to be-”
“No, no, no, baby. Not of you, of admitting she loves you. It’s obvious on both ends how you feel for one another, but have you told her that you love her? Maybe knowing you feel the same would make it easier?” You cringe at the comment, knowing you’ve pointed out to SG plenty of times how you feel differently towards her than she does you. 
“Yes,” you pause thinking back to the night before Thanksgiving. The night she called you out for being in love with her but followed it up by saying you don’t hurt the people you love. The night you fought your other half until you ended up in the emergency room ultimately resulting in a metal plate in your arm for the rest of time. The night you told her you loved her so much you’d scream it from rooftops. “I tell her in more ways than one that I love her, Mom. I mean, I’ve only said ‘I love you’ once, but I try to show it.” 
“Try to give her some time, my love. Patience is a virtue, if you love her, you’ll give her the time she needs to realize she loves you, too.” 
“I’ve been giving her time.” 
“That’s all you can do, Jacob. She’ll come to you when she’s ready. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I think it’s sooner than you anticipate.” 
“I just want, no, need her now. I love my little muse more than anything. I just want to love her openly.” Your tears soak the shoulder of her shirt so much the fabric becomes hydrophobic. 
“I know, little one, I know.” Mom’s hold on you grows tighter as she brings her other arm across your shoulders and rocks you. She brings one hand to sit at the nape of your neck, running her fingers over your scalp just as she did when you were a toddler. You melt into her warm embrace as she places a kiss on your temple, the comfort of her motherly touch never failing to ease most of the pain. Mom begins humming Three Little Birds by Bob Marley, the song she always hummed to little you when you’d gotten anxious. Sometimes before bed when Josh had convinced you there were monsters under your mattress, or before big test days in elementary school. She’d always hold you in her arms and hum the song you first knew because of her. You feel yourself inevitably fall asleep in her arms, the one place everything felt right. When in her arms, you didn’t need answers, you knew they’d come eventually. 
You wake up to a nearly dead phone and some notifications. One text message, a missed FaceTime, two missed calls and a SnapChat notification all from SG. You unlock your phone and read as much of her text as the notification allows. Her explanation for the shirt is cut shy, without opening her message you wouldn’t know the answer. Granted closure is all you want, in the same breath you finally wanted to wait until you were ready. To be so upset over a shirt made you feel dumb, especially since it’s been made abundantly clear you’re just friends. One day away would be enough time to collect your thoughts, and even if it wasn’t, it would have to be. SG’s birthday is tomorrow, and even though she’s thousands of miles away you’d promised yourself to make it as special as she had yours. You intended the necklace to be for her birthday, but grew too eager and decided to send it straight away. To see it around her neck during each call eased your worried mind. As much as you wanted to call her, wanted to see and hear her, you had to promise yourself space with the knowledge she would do the same. Because she has. Instead of wallowing in your own sadness for the day, you opt to make amends with your little brother. You crawl out of bed, throwing on jeans from the floor, not bothering to change the shirt you’d unknowingly worn to bed. You hadn’t felt the effects of how much you’d cried, but the tear stained collar was far too telling. To be honest, you didn’t care to change it regardless. There was nobody to impress, she’s in Paris. 
You bound down the stairs to the sea of voices filling the kitchen. Ronnie and Josh are sat next to Dad engulfed in their own conversation. Mom is standing at the stove as she finishes plating up breakfast, and Sam’s sitting at the end with an ice pack pressed against his lip. Your poor Sammy. How’d you let it get this bad? To put your hands on your baby brother was a level of low you never thought you’d reach. A whole new rock bottom, oddly enough feeling worse than throwing you and your twin down a flight of stairs. You awkwardly pull the chair out next to him and sit down. 
“Hey, uh, Sammy boy?” You clear your throat in an attempt to mask the fact you started choking up. 
“Hm? What’s up?” Sam’s speech is mumbled from the ice against his face. 
“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today? Figured we could hit the record store? Get something to eat?” You offer a timid smile. Never one to say sorry, you still wanted him to know you felt bad for what happened. 
“Mm…” He shoots Mom a glance before shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess that’ll work.” 
A day out on the town was much needed, and it was obvious to Sam as much as it was to you. You needed to get your mind off of Y/n, just until tomorrow. 
Her Pov
Hours go by since you heard from Jake, and still nothing from Dad. Majority of the time has been spent sheltered away in your assigned room at your host family’s house thousands of miles away from home. Elio had made a point to come in a couple of times to bring you snacks or drinks, just offering some human contact from the outside world. He didn’t force any conversation, he simply would bring you snacks and wait until you began eating before leaving. It made you miss Jake. Eating hadn’t been something you’d allowed yourself the pleasure of for a long time, only ever taking what was absolutely needed to keep you alive. Jake had healed that part of you, with the “extra” lunch and date nights where he’d encourage you to get what you want. The missing letter hurt you nearly as much as the physical distance. Knowing Jake was yet to know how much you love him, how you too would scream it from rooftops. You find solace in the tiny metal pendant that lays flat on your chest twenty-four seven. Rubbing your thumb over the tiny star cutout in the cool metal reminds you of the scar on Jake’s cheek. A detail you’d grown to love, making sure to kiss all his scars the way he’d kiss yours. The thought of him is all consuming, it was the only way you’d get through the radio silence. You tried listening to some music, but every song reminded you of Jake one way or another. You’re left with all of your thoughts, having not realized how heavily dependent you’d become on him. You begin to wonder what exactly you’d done before knowing him. All of the experiences and memories you’d created with him were ones you’d carry with you forever, the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin even from halfway across the world. Already embarrassed by the number of times you tried contacting him last night, you don’t dare text Jake again. The last thing you wanted was to look desperate even though it was obvious how much you were. You pass the time by crying into your pillows, still wearing E’s shirt. The same shirt that started this entire mess. Your hours of crying bring you to nine at night, and it would have gone longer if it weren’t for the knock on your door. 
“Come in…” You mumble into your pillow. 
“Why are you not calling guitar boy, mon amour? It is that time, no?” E asks through the crack of you door, peering into the darkness that typically didn’t exist around this time. 
“Not tonight, E,” You push yourself up, leaning back on your arms as he pushes the door open. “What’s up?” 
“Your face is red.” He points to you as his shoulders fall. “What is wrong little space girl?” 
“Just missing home is all.” 
“Your birthday is tomorrow, do you want to celebrate?” 
“Like how? Here?” 
“Yes, there’s a club called Sacré. I think we should go tonight.” 
“It sounds fun, E, but I don’t have anything to wear.” Elio brings his body into your room entirely, holding out a silver gift bag in front of you. 
“Pour toi, mon amour.” 
You furrow your brows in confusion, hesitantly grabbing the bag from his hands. You reach in and grab the contents of the bag, laying them next to you on the bed before taking a better look. Inside there resided a little red dress, a pair of studded pearl earrings with a matching necklace, and strappy black heels. You stand up from the bed and bring the dress up with you, displaying it for a real good look. The rich satin fabric feels foreign in your hands, even more so as you hold it out and see how low it scoops in the back. Surely it would barely cover anything, part of you doesn’t want to even so much as think about wearing it out. But it being your birthday made the perfect excuse for you to get dolled up, to maybe finally be able to feel a fraction of the way Jake sees you. Jake. Oh how he’d lose his ever loving mind if he saw you in this dress, for better or for worse. Enough alcohol and you’d undoubtedly be trying to FaceTime him from the bar bathroom, hoping he’d finally answer. He was finally playing you in your own game and god did it suck. 
“E… it’s- I can’t- I can’t take these, they look so… expensive.”
“Hm, well it is a birthday gift! No need to pay back.” He offers you a smile. “Get ready, mon amour. Knock on my door when ready.” With that, Elio makes his way down the hall as you begin getting ready. 
The dress is much tighter and more revealing than what you’d typically go for. The red satin pairs with your skin elegantly and the pearls rest against your dangerously exposed chest. Although it doesn’t match, you keep the necklace Jake sent you on. To have a piece of him everywhere you went was the closest you’d get to having him. You feel vulnerable with the backless dress barely coming above your ass, one wrong move and everything would be on display. All you can think about is Jake. How much he’d love this dress, how his hands would find their way under the fabric until he rid your body of it. You situate your dress before reaching your hand up and knocking on E’s door. 
“Ah, bellissima! I knew it would look good on you,” Elio leans down to kiss your cheek. “Andiamo, mon amour! Taxicab is here.” Granted not knowing him long, you’d already been able to pick up on most of his Italian phrases. It always made you giggle how fluently he’d speak between three languages. He’s wearing a black button down tucked into black slacks, the top three buttons left undone for his chest to be on display. Around his neck sits a heavy silver chain that’s holding up a cross pendant. There’s a diamond where all the arms meet, right in the middle. The necklace sits between his pecs, gently resting in the light patch of hair that peppers his skin. He has a matching silver watch fixed on his right wrist and a singular diamond stud in his left ear. He looked… sexy… but he simply didn’t compare with Jake. 
You opt to remain silent as you turn to walk down the hall. E follows behind you, only carefully pushing past to open the front door and once more to open the car door. You scoot in enough for Elio to enter from the side he’s on. When he shuts the door, the small gust of wind wafts his cologne all around you. Not only does he look expensive, but he smells expensive, too. The drive isn’t long, your nerves only made it feel that way. Why did going out with a friend for your birthday feel like cheating? And how was it cheating if you weren’t dating anyone? You put the thoughts on the back burner, ones not meant to be had right now. The car comes to a stop in front of a pair of black doors embedded in black marble walls. The entrance is adjacent to the corner of the sidewalk. You look up and see the top of the building is cream colored with sort of gothic style architecture holding up a wrap around railed balcony. Elio exits the car and offers his hand to help you get out. 
“We can leave around one? The bistro is open until two, much better food than the club.” E points across the street to a little red building. La Petite Bourse is in a pretty white cursive font alongside the bottom of the canopy. 
“I’ll see…” Which meant no, you weren’t going to eat. Your stomach’s still in a knot from the little argument with Jake, and not hearing from him had only made the knots grow tighter. 
“No pressure, but it is an open offer.” E holds his arm out for you to hook yours around. 
The inside of the club is lackluster, in your opinion. The walls are a boring cream color and the floor a muddy brown concrete material. Along the far wall sits a series of circular mirrors, directly underneath is a wall length vermilion booth. There’s circular tables directly across from a corresponding mirror and a blue chair at each table. A few velvety blue loveseats reside inside the building with vermilion stools around them. It was nothing of what you’d expected of a club, especially a club in Paris, at that. The scent of alcohol, a mix of colognes and perfumes, bright strobe lights, it was all consuming. Nothing of what you’d typically aim for when asked for a night out. Jake had always picked the right places, tiny bars, the movies, or simply staying in with one another. This is all so new and you’re unsure of how to feel, but you’ll give it a shot for Elio. He looks at you and reaches for your hand, he’s speaking but the music is so loud you can’t hear even your own thoughts. E notices the confused look on your face, causing him to lean in and whisper in your ear. 
“Come, mon amour. Dance with me.” He holds his hand out and you oblige, resting your fingers in his palm. Elio brings your knuckles to his lips and places a kiss against your pinkened skin. An almost familiar feeling shoots through your body, one you’re quick to push away. Having just come to terms with your true feelings for Jake, granted he’s yet to know, it feels wrong to follow the original rules of your agreement. To see other people. You didn’t want to, though. It was only Jake you wanted to be with.
After a few drinks and some dancing, the floor becomes more crowded, pushing you closer to Elio. Nearly tripping over your own drunken feet, Elio rests his hand at the small of your back to help you keep balance. You place your free hand flat on his chest as you start to gain footing, the other hardly holding onto your drink. 
“Thank you, sorry.” You bring your hand over to his necklace, looping the chain around your pointer finger. Elio looks down at you, moving the hand that’s holding his drink to fill the space between your bodies. He takes a sip before pulling his index finger away from the glass, placing it under your chin to redirect your vision. A weird sensation grows inside of you. One only to be described as the first time you kissed Jake. You feel the magnetic pull of your lips to E’s, getting so close you can feel his breath across your skin. But you can’t do it. All you can think about is betraying Jake, again unsure of why it feels that way if you’re just friends. You clear your throat and pull away from Elio. 
“What time is it?” You’re flustered to say the least, between tripping and being inches away from Elio’s face, you couldn’t feel any other way. E removes his hand from your lower back to check his watch. Your hand finds comfort toying the necklace from Jake. 
“Twelve fifteen, is everything okay?” He furrows his brows and tilts his head in confusion. 
“Yeah, I just- I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back. If I’m not back by one, call me.” You’d exchanged numbers with Elio during your second day in Paris. The first day was spent lost amongst the sea of unfamiliar faces until you found your way back to your host family’s home, where Elio appeared hours later worried sick. He had lost you in the crowd and you both agreed that couldn’t happen again. 
“Okay, see you little space girl.” He offers an awkward smile and waves you off. 
You search around for the bathroom, finding it tucked away in the back of the club, it’s a tiny, one person bathroom. You lock the door behind you and shuffle through your bag to find your phone, hoping Jake or Dad had responded. About eight birthday related notifications down, you see Jake had tried to FaceTime you directly at midnight. You press the notification to call him back, setting the phone up behind the faucet of a sink. Jake answers almost immediately. 
“Hey, happy birthday, my pretty girl.” His voice is raspy and tired. He’s laying on his side, phone inches away from his face. 
“Hi, Jakey. Thank you.” A stupid smile is plastered across your face. 
“Where are you? That’s a really… I like that dress. Like a lot.” 
“Oh, Natalià wanted to take me out for my birthday. We’re at… Sacré? I think it’s called. Dinghy club, I-I wish you were here with me.”
“Mmm, me too, princess,” He adjusts himself to be sitting up, propping his phone against something on his nightstand. “Show me that dress you got on, give me a spin.” 
You back up and slowly spin around, getting slower as you get to the back. All you can think about is how his hands would feel against your skin right now. How quickly he’d bend you over the sink and have you watch him as he made love to you. 
“Fuck. Yeah, I definitely wish I was there. God, I miss you.” 
“I miss you, too, and I miss home.” Only part of the statement was true, you did miss Jake. But in all reality you could live a happy life never returning to Grand Rapids, Michigan ever again. 
“Only, what? One more month?” 
“Yeah, but it’s too long. I need you.” You lean over the sink, propping yourself up in your elbows, cleavage on full display for his viewing. 
“Trust me, I get it. The hand just isn’t the same.” He shrugs and giggles. “Do you have time?” 
“Until one. E- eating at the bistro after.” You almost blew it. He still hadn’t heard your explanation for the shirt, the last thing you needed was him knowing who you were really out with. 
“Okay, do you wanna… maybe do our thing, real quick?” You can see his length hardened beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. “If not that’s okay, we can do it later if you want to.” 
“Mm, right now sounds… so good. Been thinking about you all night.” Truth. You just wish he were with you right now, with his warm hands against your skin, soft lips on yours. You craved his touch more so now than ever.
“Yeah? Tell me, what’s been plaguing your mind, angel?” He sits forward, inching his hand past the waistband of his pants. 
“Thinking of how your hands feel on my skin. How much I miss your lips on me.” 
“Hm, is that so?” Jake rasps as his hand moves up and down his length, the grey fabric preventing you from seeing all you wanted. A whine mewls from your lips as your hand finds a home over your breast, rubbing your palm against your hardened nipple. “Lean back, let me see those tits.”
“Mm, I wanna see something, too!” You huffed, coming off a little bratty. 
“Uh-uh, tell me how good I make you feel first.” 
“You make me feel so good, Strings.” You purr, squeezing your breasts with your hands before pulling the halter neck down for him to see how turned on he had you. “I miss your pretty cock, Jakey. I need to see something, please?” 
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Jake leans back on one arm and uses the other to pull his cock from his sweatpants. There he sits on full display, thousands of miles away from you when all you want is to taste him. To feel him with your fingers as his muscles contract under your touch. You couldn’t deny the simple fact that you miss him. 
“I need to see more of you, Strings.” You felt needy, but if you couldn't feel him, you wanted to at least see him, all of him. You didn’t have to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. Jake slides his pants and boxers down his legs and pulls his shirt over his head. You watch in awe as he removes his shirt, the way his supple skin stretches over his muscles and bones as he lifts his arms up. Your eyes never leave the screen, watching as he situates himself in front of the camera once again. His hand finds its way to his aching cock almost naturally, teasing his thumb over the head. 
“Come on, SG, gotta share with me, too, ya know.” He spoke in nearly a whisper. You think for a second on how you can give him what he wants. Surely you weren’t going to sit on the floor of a club restroom, and he wouldn’t expect that of you. You bunch the satin dress up around your hips, bringing one leg up to expose your panties to him in the camera. The lacy black number was one he’d become all too familiar with, having taken them off of you more times than you’d like to admit. 
“Fuck, baby… my favorite pair. What were you doing wearing just those under that dress?” He hangs his head back between his shoulders and you watch as he slowly brings his hand down his entire length, resting at the base. His favorite pair? God how you wished he were here taking them off of you for the upteenth time. Feeling his fingers graze against the skin of your thighs as his lips eagerly made contact with your bud before he had your panties off. 
You reach down and push your panties to the side, teasing your fingers through your soaked, velvety folds. “Wish these fingers were yours…” You sigh as you drag your fingers over your clit, rubbing light circles over yourself, watching as his hand starts to move quicker. “Tell me, Jakey, what are you thinking about?” 
“Right now? How badly I need to be buried inside of you.” 
“God, I wish you were…” You hate how easily he draws the truth from your lips. When did you become so desperate for the touch of a man? Maybe the first time Jake touched you, physically and emotionally. 
“Touch yourself for me, keep her ready for when you come home. Don’t wanna hurt you so much.” Sweat is pooling in the dip of his chest, words becoming less and less annunciated. You slip your fingers into your aching core, fucking them at the same pace Jake strokes himself. If you couldn’t have him there, you’d at least pretend he was. It frustrates you that the spot Jake hits without thought is almost nonexistent to your fingers. Were they too short? Too thin? How was it he knew your body better than yourself? 
“Fuck, Y/n, I’m gonna cum,” It’s not often he used your first name, but when he did, it tugged your heartstrings. To hear your name leave his lips in such a setting made you love the name you’d hated for all these years. He was undoubtedly, slowly fixing every piece of you that you’d attempted to rid yourself of long ago. You really do love Jake Kiszka. 
“Strings…” You were close too, although you didn’t want it to end. You wanted to watch him until his body couldn’t go any longer. All you hoped for was that when you got home, he’d fuck you the same way he did when you left. Jake’s motions start to slow as he reaches his release, his name leaving your lips so sweetly. If you could record it in a studio and play it on loop, you would. His breathy moans harmonize with yours as you fuck yourself through ecstasy. Your free hand grips the edge of the counter, sweat forming in your palms and the bend of your knees as you cry his name out into the air of the bathroom. Thankfully the music had been so loud, otherwise you’re positive someone would hear your chants.
“Such a good girl… Fuck, wish I was there to taste you,” Jake throws his head back, his neck on full display. The marks you’d left that night long gone, only wishing you were under him again, marking what was so rightfully yours. Your eyes trail down to watch as he grips his cock in his hand, lifting his hips up and fucking into his palm until his release spills over his tired fingers. He lets out a deep sigh as he uses his free hand to push himself forward, reaching behind the phone to grab a tissue. You bring your leg back down and pull the halter strap back over your neck, adjusting your breasts in the cups and situating the satin fabric to sit as appropriately as it could on your thighs. Jake stands in front of the camera, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips, the prominent bone sticking out from under the fabric. 
“You okay, princess?” He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it for volume. 
“Yeah,” You sigh, turning the water on to wash your hands. 
“But?” 
“I just miss you, is all.” What was really bothering you was the fact you still hadn’t heard back from your dad. You mostly kept it to yourself to spare yourself the embarrassment of still being mad at Dad for what he said literally months ago at this point. Not to mention sparing yourself the added embarrassment of only deciding to reach out to him when Jake had given you the cold shoulder. Missing Jake wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the only thing that had kept you up most nights. You still hadn’t even apologized to Jake about Elio’s shirt, who’s to say he wasn’t still upset?
“I feel like that’s not quite it, Y/n…” He always sees straight through you and you hate it. Nothing could be kept a secret from him no matter how hard you tried. So much so you’d sent him a letter confessing your undying love for him, which, both unfortunately and fortunately for you, never made it into his clutch. 
“I just feel, I don’t-It’s dumb, Jake. I’ll be okay.”
“No, no, no. Talk to me, Space Girl. It’s what I’m here for, it’s why I’m your best friend.” 
“You never answered my messages. I just wanted you to know that I was sorry for the other night. Just wanted to tell you I lo-” Without fail, the words don’t leave your lips, instead being cut off by someone yanking on the door. 
“Tu es lá depuis une heure! C’est partiii!” A very annoyed woman yells from the other side of the door as she continues tugging on the handle. You only piece together bits of what she’s saying as you check the time at the top of your phone. 
“Fuck, Strings, I have to go. That’s probably Natalià.” 
“Oh, okay. I’ll talk to you later, then?” His face looks sad. 
I know, Jakey. Soon, I promise.
“Yeah, I’ll call you, okay?” 
“Have a good birthday, pretty girl. Text me when you get home, please?” 
“I will, I’ll see you later sweet boy.” You hang up first knowing otherwise the call would go on. You check yourself in the mirror one more time and rush out, barreling through the door and nearly knocking the poor girl on the other side over. She yells drunkenly at you, but it’s evident she’s harmless. You spot Elio who’s making his way toward the bathroom, stopping in his tracks once his eyes land on you. 
“Mon amour, it’s after one. Are you okay?” He brings his hands to rest on your hips.
“Yeah, I called Jake. Well, Jake called me and I missed it, so I returned the call. You move your hands down to rest on his.
“Would you still like to go to La Petite Bourse?” His eyes look hopeful, like maybe you’ll hold up on your promise to fill your stomach.
“I’m sorry, E,” He lets go of your waist, in turn making your hands fall to your side. 
“It’s okay, I will order you a taxicab. I’m going to stay out longer.” 
“Okay,” Hesitantly, you lean in and wrap your arms around his torso. “Hey, I appreciate you thinking about me. I needed this.” 
“No problem, Y/n. Thank you for coming.” He kisses the top of your head and squeezes you closer to his chest before letting go. It feels almost like a goodbye more than a farewell for now. He walks back towards the dance floor and you head outside, waiting for the taxi to arrive at the corner. 
The ride back to the host house is a quiet one. With light jazz playing in the background and liquor still coursing through your veins, the city lights stripping the sky from the beautiful stars you’d grown to love back home. A great sadness washes over you as you think about the simple fact you continue to push away anyone who shows even an ounce of care towards you. You had truly started to believe you weren’t worthy of anyone’s love or patience. Especially Jake’s love and patience, taking into consideration how many times you’d hurt him. How you continue to hurt him in the simplest ways. Lying. Not being able to say the only three words you knew he deserved the pleasure of hearing. As the taxi pulls up to the curb in front of your temporary home, you gather your items before thanking the driver and exiting the car. You stand on the sidewalk facing the house, part of you wants to run. But to where? You couldn’t go back home. You didn’t have any money to leave right now and your ticket back home was paid for in advance. Your feet hesitate as they move forward until you’re standing at the front door of a home you could never call your own. You reach your hand up and carefully twist the knob, mindful of the fact everyone was asleep by now. In exception of Elio, who may not even come home tonight, as he hadn’t most nights he went out. The bedroom that holds all your items is close to the door, for which your drunken limbs are grateful for as you stumble into the darkness of the bedroom. Your hand frantically rubs up and down the wall until you hit the switch, illuminating the room in a light yellow hue. You take off the pearl jewelry and rest it on the dresser, the dress following shortly after. You shuffle through your bags until you find a shirt you’d stolen from Jake many moons ago, pulling it over your head. Wearing nothing but his t-shirt, the necklace he’d so selflessly thought to send you, and his favorite black panties, you lay in bed and snap a picture of yourself laying amongst the sheets. Opening the thread of texts with Jake, you send him the risque photo under invisible ink with the message:
Your favorite pair of panties are home
He must have been waiting in the chat for your message as it takes him just a matter of seconds to answer. 
Glad to know my favorite girl made it safely, too. 
Goodnight, thank you for calling me back. I missed you.
Your cheeks grow red, as they always did when you spoke to Jake.
Goodnight, Jakey. I missed you, too. One more month
With that your drunken eyes fell heavily into slumber, keeping you from the much needed crying session you’d planned to partake in to lull you asleep tonight. 
Bill’s POV
You’d spent all night tossing and turning in your sleep. You hadn’t answered your little girl’s text message and it was eating away at your subconscious mind. She needed you and regardless of months with no contact, you couldn’t do the same to her. With knowing she’d be away before the incident, you had concocted a plan to celebrate her birthday even four thousand miles away. Pick her up a cake from Glory Bee, her favorite bakery that resides in Mason, decorated in the same theme you’d ordered every year, space. Nearing her twenties, you couldn’t get rockets and aliens all over as you used to, this year opting for a simple white cake with silver stars speckled across the frosting. Regardless of her stubbornness, you know she wouldn’t miss out on celebrating her birthday. You already picked up the fireworks, keeping up with your tradition. She used to be so scared of the fireworks on the Fourth of July, until you held her and said they went off for her birthday. As she got older, and learned about history, the magic of the fireworks nearly faded away. You thought for sure the tradition would end in her teens, assuming she’d be too embarrassed at such an impressionable age to be shooting fireworks with her old man. The year of her fourteenth birthday you hadn’t bought any fireworks as she’d shown much less interest in many things she enjoyed in the past. It wasn’t until she padded out of the solitary confinement of her bedroom with tear stained cheeks and asked where the fireworks were that you realized perhaps this was one thing she’d never grow old of. Ever since her birth, you’d only celebrated her on July fourth, nearly entirely forgetting other people’s meaning of the day. She’s your only child, it only felt appropriate to celebrate her so big each year. This year would be no different. No matter what, you’d made sure her birthday was celebrated. You lie awake as you wait for the sun to start rising, Kathy’s movement alerting you. 
“Good morning, dear.” You lean over and kiss her cheek. 
“Good morning,” Her smile can be felt under your lips. She mumbles something you can’t quite make out as she rolls out of bed, pulling her robe over her nightgown and sliding her slippers on. You follow suit, striding behind her until you reach the end of the hall. She doesn’t make the turn to the kitchen, instead heading toward the front door. 
“What’re you doing, honey?” You ask with a chuckle. She always keeps you on your toes, reminds you of your little girl. 
“Getting the mail. I didn’t get it yesterday, but Maw said she sent a little something for Y/n’s birthday.” 
“To us?” 
“Guess she never got the address to the host family’s house. We can ship it to her, you know Maw’s too old to figure all that out.” Kathy steps onto the porch, the slight breeze fills in the space around her and brings her warm scent to you. She smells heavenly as she always did even without any perfume. Her natural scent one you’d recognize in a room full of other people. While Kathy’s outside, you start making coffee and making a simple breakfast. English muffins with the homemade strawberry jam Y/n helped jar back in spring. You hear Kathy open the door, slamming it behind her as she storms into the home. 
“Honey? You okay?” You ask, sliding the plates onto the table to free your hands. You try to reach for her as she walks into the kitchen, but she crosses her arms, a piece of mail balled in her fist. 
“No, Bill. I’m not okay.” 
“Well, talk to me, what’s wrong?” 
“This-” Kathy shoves the piece of paper in front of your face. “This is what’s wrong, Bill. Why the hell is the bank sending a foreclosure warning on the house?” 
“What are you on about?” You knew exactly what she was on about. How could you forget the first real argument you’d had with the love of your life? After finding out you’d used everything in the savings account to pay for Y/n’s first year at college, you promised her you’d start building it back up in large sumps to ensure you’d still have the security net. The only issue was the business wasn’t going as well as it had in the past. With less local work needed and newer companies developing, you found yourself taking what you could get. For construction being in such high demand, you couldn’t seem to pull jobs the way you had when the business first kicked off. This had led you to charge much less for jobs, in hopes people would pick your company for the price and convenience. Due to charging less money, and still needing to pay your employees, you found it hard to build the savings account back up, let alone even have enough money for your family to survive. Always putting Y/n’s education first, and with everyone’s assumption the savings account was full, you’d helped cover half of her trip abroad in France. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, you couldn’t strip your little girl of such an experience, even if it meant working side gigs for extra income. You’d spent late nights pulling gigs at dirty bars and boardwalks, odd jobs when the company wasn’t getting calls. But nothing was enough, and it finally caught up to you. Trying to support your family and give your daughter everything she deserves bit you in the ass. 
“Bill, read the damn paper.” 
“I see it-”
“Read it out loud, Bill. Tell me what that paper says.” 
You take a deep breath and swallow harshly before gently taking the paper from her hands. You hold it out in front of you and clear your throat before you start to read. 
“This is called your demand letter or notice to accelerate. If you do not pay the specified amount or make some form of arrangement by the date given, they are allowed at that time to refer you to foreclosure or accelerate your mortgage.” 
“And now tell me how much we owe, Bill.” 
“Four thousand, three hundred and five dollars… and sixty cents. Kathy, it says right there we can make an arrangement, I-”
“Where are we going to get practically five thousand dollars from? What’s even in the savings account right now?” 
That you knew the answer to, payroll having just been completed. Any money that was left was surely drained to almost nothing as you’d used it all to pay your employees. You couldn’t keep that a secret anymore.
“Five hundred and thirty eight dollars.” Your voice trails off as you hang your head in shame. How did you let it get this bad? Why were you such a failure in the sense you could no longer provide for the last thing you had? Everything you��ve done was for them, and it’s all coming down. 
“I told you months ago that you needed to end that business and get a job that would actually pay the fucking bills.” Kathy pulls a chair out from the kitchen table and sits down, her elbows on the table with her head in her palms. “I don’t understand how you’d be so okay losing everything instead of just listening to me. I also remember telling you Y/n should apply for student loans and scholarships.” 
“She tried, Kathy. I’m sorry but if being a good father is a crime, sue me. Sue me for loving my little girl more than anything and wanting her to do better than her parents.” 
“If you were such a good father, you wouldn’t have let the house she gets to come home to be put on the line for a degree she can’t utilize.” 
“Think what you want, Kathy. The last time I checked, neither of us went to college, and neither did any of your kids.” This couldn’t be happening. You two never argued, at least at this level. Any “arguing” was always just mild disagreements or miscommunications that were easily talked through. But you couldn’t get out of this, there was no way to. 
“I think we need to- we need to spend the day apart. We’ll do Y/n’s birthday, and we need to talk about what we’re doing.” 
Those words scare you. Trying to get a loan in her name? Borrowing money from one of her sons? Divorce? All the options weigh on your shoulders as Kathy pushes away from the table and walks to the living room. You shamefully make your way to your bedroom to get dressed. Calling Jake is the only thing you know to do, unfortunately he was your only friend as strange as it sounded. To be best friends with the boy your daughter denied her love to even though it’s painfully obvious how much she loves and cares for him. The words leaving her mouth to you a few times. You took solace in knowing she was at least in the hands of a good man, one you consider your own. A man who takes so much pride in his wisdom and knowledge, and who loves everyone in his life so greatly. The phone rings a few times before Jake answers, his voice groggy and tired. 
“Hey, son. Sorry if I woke ya up,” 
“No, you’re okay Pops. What’s up? Everything alright?” 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just wanted to see if you’re free to grab a bite to eat?” 
“Yeah, for sure. You want me to come to GR?” 
“Thinking I’ll visit Frankenmuth for a change, is that okay?” Jake always made the drive to you, it was the least you could do. Plus, the less time you spend in the house, the better.  
“Definitely. Hey, Danny’s working today actually, at Smokehaus. We should go there! He’s been helping me with that song, y’know?” 
“Yeah, that sounds great, Jake. Hey, I’ll see ya in a bit okay, bud?” 
“Mhm, see you.” Jake hangs up leaving you to sit in silence once again. You hated silence as it forced you to think about everything going wrong, no distraction from reality being provided. 
Today’s outfit was simple, the name of the restaurant steering you away from anything light. You opt for a slate grey shirt, dark blue jeans, and a blue flannel, it isn’t anything fancy but it’s comfortable. As you make your way out the door, you almost hesitate to tell Kathy you love her. In good conscience, you do it anyway. No matter what, she will always be the love of your life, you’d at least uphold that promise if no other. 
“I’m heading out. Gonna see Jake in Frankenmuth. I love you.” The words feel almost foreign as they roll off your tongue. Like you weren’t meant to say them anymore. 
“Please drive safe, you know how it gets during holidays. I love you, too.” Maybe it wasn’t all so broken. Maybe you could fix this. It would take so much talking, forgiveness and time, but you’d do anything for your girls. Part of you feels she says those words out of pity. So many years have been spent exchanging sweet nothings, why does it feel so wrong? 
“I will. I’ll text you when I get there and when I leave.” You back track until you’re standing directly behind where she’s seated on the couch, leaning down enough to place a kiss on the top of her head. The tenseness in her shoulders drops with the contact of your lips and she watches as you walk out the door. 
The car ride is a grueling two hours, you can’t believe Jake would drive this far so often just for Y/n. That kid continues to impress you each and every time as he proves love knows no bounds. You’d heard the story about Thanksgiving and when Y/n convinced him to go on a double date that went wrong. Although it never made sense to you why she couldn’t see that Jake was all she needed, especially when she’d seemed to doubt her feelings. Evidently he felt much deeper for her than meets the eye, and you were truly upset and heartbroken when you’d found out all that you did. She was leading him on. Sure, as you’ve had so much time with no contact to reflect, you’d come to realize your words were a little harsh. But she was the one who chose not to have contact with you. You’d shown up to every show before she left, to which you went ignored. Your texts went unread, calls unanswered, no letters back in the mail. It hurt you greatly that she’d not only consider ignoring you, but to actually follow through. Hopefully tonight she’d answer your call for her birthday. You hadn’t answered her text with the hopes that if you didn’t chase her, she’d answer the call desperate to hear. It made you feel guilty, grimey. You were being no better, especially as the parent, for not being there when she needed you. A thought that plagued your mind the moment Starshine✨ lit up on your screen. So badly did you want to open the message, call up your not so little girl, hear her voice for the first time in a while. You missed her tremendously, but you needed your first point of contact to be special. The fireworks were bought as soon as the sales tents started being pitched in empty lots, you ordered the cake a month in advance to make sure everything was perfect. Because it was going to be. 
Your two hour drive finally comes to an end as you pull into the parking lot of BBQ Smokehaus. You wish you’d visited Jake more, Little Bavaria carried such fond memories. You spot Jake’s car and park next to him, honking your horn to get his attention. Jake jumps at the sound, snapping his neck to look in your direction. He has that big goofy grin that you’d come to love. Jake truly was the son you’ve always wanted, such a well rounded young man. The two of you get out at the same time, granted Jake moves much faster than you can these days. He walks swiftly over to you and wraps his arms around your torso. 
“Hey, bud. Missed you.” You bring your hand up and pat the back of his head, tousling his locks about in the process. 
“I missed you too, Pops. How was the drive here?” 
“Traffic wasn’t too terrible.” You let go of Jake and start walking inside as he enters beside you. As you reach for the door it swings open, and to your surprise there’s a familiar face. 
“Bill? I haven’t seen you in years! How are you and the girls?”
“We’re good, Randy. What about you?”
“Oh, you know. As good as one can be. Is this your son?” 
“Yes, well, future son-in-law.” It falls from your lips so naturally as if it’s what he’s always been. You nudge Jake with your arm to which he extends his out towards Randy.
“H-hi, I’m Jacob. Or, just Jake.” He seems a little awkward, just as he’d been when you first met him. 
“Nice to meet you, just Jake, and welcome to the family!” Randy offers a chuckle as he finally lets go of Jake’s hand. “That girl’s quite the handful, I’ll tell ya. But if she’s anything like her Mama, the juice is worth the squeeze. Little firecracker, that one, livin’ up to her birthday, huh, Bill?” 
“Yeah, guess so! Hey, we should catch up some time, I’ll see ya around, Randy!” You give him a quick hug before making your way inside with Jake.There’s a booth close to the door that Jake slides into, you take a seat across from him. Danny spots you guys and runs over to the table. 
“Hey, what’s goin’ on you guys?” Danny looks so excited to have visitors at work, poor kid must have been here all day by the looks of it. He places two menus on the table, one in front of you and the other before Jake.
“Got a sec to show Bill that clip?” Jake asks as he scoots over for Danny to sit down. Danny brings his phone out and brings up a video of him sitting at his desk. He presses play and the clip of Danny playing your song on an acoustic guitar begins playing. The tune had been sped up just the slightest to suit a song with lyrics, it sounded much like it did the day everyone broke out into song at the barbecue. Except now it sounds fuller, more complete and thought through than you ever imagined it could. As the video nears an end you find yourself holding back the faintest of tears. It was perfect. The riff you’d written so long ago for your little girl was finally coming to fruition. 
“That’s beautiful, boys. Jake, have you shown Y/n?” 
“No, not yet actually. Wanna wait until it’s finished and mixed before I show her anything.” he blushes just a little. You have to admit, the love he had for her was admirable. The fact he wasn’t willing to let her have anything less than perfect said all you needed to know.
“Yeah, that’ll be nice.” You nod as Danny stands up, reaching into his pocket for his pen and pad.
“I just gotta get your drinks and orders in, then I can come back. It’s been a slow day.” After a couple minutes of deciding, and suggestions made by the two boys, you’d successfully ordered drinks and something to eat. Danny strides off to the kitchen, returning to bring your drinks and quickly leaving again. You sit forward enough to remove your flannel, wondering why you bothered wearing one in such warm weather. It lays against the back of the booth, adding some much needed cushion to the awful wooden panel. 
“So, Bill, I was thinking we could throw Y/n a welcome home party? To let her know how much we missed her.”
“I don’t know, bud. It’s not really in the budget.” “Well, I could help a little. We could go half?”
“Jake, I don’t know how to tell you this…” You didn’t want to, but maybe he’d understand that it wasn’t because you didn’t love her, you just simply couldn’t afford to throw a party. “We, uh, we got a foreclosure notice in the mail today from the bank. I don’t know how we’re going to pay off the debt to keep the house. We just don’t have the funds to survive right now, let alone throw a party.”
“Fuck- I mean, sorry, language. I can help you, how much is it? I have like, three grand to spare, I’ve been putting money aside since I turned sixteen.”
“Jake,” You sigh as you go to continue, saved by Danny returning with your food. He places your plates in front of each of you, your appetite has already started going away. Danny takes his seat back next to Jake. You’re hoping the conversation won’t continue, but you know Jake won’t let you off that easily. 
“Bill, please? Just let me help you, I wanna help you.” 
“Jake, I’m an adult, I’m not taking your money.”
“Okay, and I’m an adult, too. It’s not taking my money, I’ll lend it to you. I just wanna make sure you guys have a home, especially when she comes back from Paris.” The fact he’s so adamant on helping is telling of his character, it didn’t matter if it was only because of her. Again, it just drove home the point he’d stop at nothing to make sure she was taken care of. 
“No, Jacob. End of story, drop it.” Your voice grew stern, earning wide eyes from both of the young boys who sat across from you. 
“Fine. So you’d rather lose your house instead of putting your pride aside and accepting some help? God, you are just like Y/n. No wonder she’s so goddamn stubborn!” Jake brings his hands to cover his mouth, obviously embarrassed by his outrage.
“She’s not stubborn, she just wants to do things on her own, and that’s okay!” You start to raise your voice, trying not to choke up. 
“Oh yeah? If she’s not stubborn, when was the last time she even talked to you, Bill?” You’re hesitant but you reach into your pocket and bring out your phone. You open the thread with Y/n, sitting directly under Jake’s as you hadn’t talked to anyone else. You present him the message and he reads the same words that broke your heart into millions of pieces not long ago.
“Did you call her?” Having already felt you messed up royally, that feeling was only solidified when you watched Jake grit his teeth and his face grow red as you shook your head no. Danny sat slack jaw in just as much disappointment as everyone else at the table. “Bill, she fucking needed you. Why didn’t you call her right then? How could you leave her hanging in a foreign country like that after she’s been so stubborn?” You don’t respond, not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t. If you knew why you couldn’t muster up the courage to call her, you’d have an answer for more people than just Jake. 
“I think I’m gonna go help prep-” Danny tries to stand up but Jake yanks him down by his arm.
“No, Danny, stay. I think we need an outsider’s input.” 
“Jacob, I’m not doing this. I’m gonna go, I have to pick up her cake.” You push yourself away from the table, nobody has touched their food, and you don’t think anyone will. 
“Yeah? With what money, Bill?” Ouch. For someone who was so polite, so kind and loving, when he was angry, his temper cut like knives. That should have been made obvious by the Thanksgiving incident that left him wearing a three inch scar on his arm for the rest of his life. 
“Dude, she’s not even in the states…” Danny mumbles, it was clear you weren’t supposed to hear. You snap your neck to look at the two of them, seeing Jake shove Danny. You storm out of the Smokehaus as the boys begin to bicker. Once you’re in your car, the floodgates let loose. Warm, salty streams pour down your face as reality hits you. How could you be risking everything right now, truly over your own stubbornness? TW SKIP ALL OF THIS IF YOU FEEL YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED BY DEATH/CAR ACCIDENT PORTRAYAL
——————————————————————
You set off on your journey to Glory Bee’s to pick up her cake, as it would probably, and unfortunately, be her last one for a while. As you drive in silence, thinking of Jake's words kills you. Unsure of what the future holds between you and your wife, would you continue to ruin the relationship between you and your only child? The thoughts run rampant in your mind, making most of the drive going faster than you’d imagined. You only realized that you were minutes away from the bakery when your GPS said to stay in the right lane. Only being in the middle, you take a quick check before speeding up to pass a semi truck in the right lane. The exit is right there, if you’re fast enough you can make it. Damn semi was going slower than molasses in December. You turn your blinker on and give one more look before merging into the right lane, still enough distance.  Only when you’re in the right lane, nearing the exit you realize maybe the semi was closer than you’d anticipated. You lay your foot on the gas, trying to speed up to create enough distance between the two vehicles. The semi is getting closer and you’re not going any faster. The unthinkable happens. Years of safe driving, no tickets or accidents under your belt. You feel the entire back end of the car completely accordion into the back of your seat, the sound of shattering glass and screeching rubber harsh enough to make your ears bleed, and that wasn’t figuratively. Are your ears bleeding? The airbags fill in the space around you and a sharp pain shoots through your back. Sudden darkness engulfs you, surrounded by nobody and nothing but the smell of smoke and blood. All alone in agonizing pain, you pray to just not make it. For the ambulances to take a little longer. And if your prayers hadn’t worked in the past, you hoped they were heard for once. Years of praying, pleading for help and guidance, all you wanted was for something to go your way. A daughter that hated you and a wife following shortly behind, making it out alive would only add to the hardships. Breathing is getting harder as your lungs fill with what you can only presume is blood. Why now? Why today? Sirens wailing in the background melt into the sweet sound of heaven’s gates. For the first time in your lifetime your prayers are heard and answered as you take what feels to be your last breath on this Earth. The light was real, and it was beautiful.
—————————————————————-
Jake’s POV
“Danny, that was uncalled for!” 
“You were being a dickhead, I stated a fact.” 
“He’s not the only one who has to suffer without her here, asshole.” You shove Danny out of the booth, as you stand up you notice Bill’s flannel still laying where he sat. As mad as you were, the flannel was one of his favorites. You couldn’t, in good conscience, leave it laying there. You toss a crumpled twenty on the table and scoff as you pick up the flannel, balling it under your arm. Bill had made a promise to show up to all your shows, and with one this weekend you knew his shirt would make it back safely. 
You walk straight to your room, wanting to avoid any conflict with one of your brothers. They always found a way to make you more annoyed, it was something you learned to prevent by ignoring them. You shut your door and pick up your trusted acoustic from against the wall, perching it on your lap as you sit at the foot of your bed. Your fingers find their home against the tattered edges of your first guitar. It had written some of the most beautiful songs and witnessed the most gorgeous scenery. The way SG’s face lit up each time you played her song being the fondest memory you and this guitar would bear. The twinkle in her eyes permanently engraved not only in your heart but also somewhere along the grains and grooves of the wood. Each song strummed on these strings for the better half of nearly two years has been solely for her. And that wouldn’t change today as you sit and continue working on yet another song for her. One that Bill presented a while ago during one of your chats. After messing around some during practice and sitting with Danny, the only other guitar player, it finally felt it was almost there. Josh had finally named the song Bill had a hand in writing. Broken Bells. And god was it beautiful. Danny had spent some time fine tuning the main riff Bill wrote, allowing you to focus on the solo. It had to be perfect. Not only for Bill, but for your Star. 
Your fingers move up and down the fretboard, growing tired and frustrated each time it’s anything less than perfect. Wrong note, wrong tempo, wrong emotion. You’ve never had such a hard time writing a song, especially one that was approximately ninety percent finished. All the song is waiting on is you. But your goddamn left arm’s been trying to play catch up ever since you shattered it. It has left you unable to play for long periods of time without the searing pain tagging along. You push through, you have to, for her. For that sake, hours of playing would have occurred had your phone not started ringing. You look down and see Ma (SG) light up on the screen with a picture of SG and her mom. You rest your acoustic next to you on your bed and pick up your phone, your thumb’s quick to answer, pressing the phone to your ear. 
“Jake? Is Bill still with you?” Her voice was filled with worry, surely he’d be home by now. You’d both left one another well over an hour ago, that you’re sure of as you’ve been home playing long enough to be in pain. 
“No? He left to get Y/n’s cake. I’m already home.” 
“Okay, probably backed up. It is the Fourth of July… Just usually he calls, I’m sure he’s still upset.” 
“Upset about?” You have an inkling considering the letter that Bill mentioned coming in today.
“We got a foreclosure notice and had a pretty bad argument. I-I told him he should leave for the day and now he’s-” 
“Kathy, don’t think like that,” You pull the phone away from your ear and place it on speaker as you check Bill’s location. “It looks like he’s stuck on ninety-six, right at the exit to get on ninety-nine.” 
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Umm, I think it’s called Glory Bee?” 
“I told him not to go that far, there’s a Meijer in town.” 
“Isn’t that her favorite, though?” She’d mentioned it in passing before, how Bill had gone to Glory Bee Sweet Treats for as long as she could remember. 
“Yes, but she’s not home. We can’t afford to waste the gas, let alone spend the money on that kind of cake for someone who isn’t home.” 
“I know, Ma. It’ll be okay, I promise. Hey, keep an ear out for me, yeah? And I wanna see the cake before it’s cut into.” A chuckle slips your lips. 
“Okay, we’ll send you a picture as soon as Bill gets home. Sorry for the panic, thank you, sweetheart. We love you, I’ll talk to you soon.” 
She hangs up and you decide to dig a little deeper. The trip should have only taken an hour to get there, meaning within the time it took you to get home and practice, Bill had to have been on his way home, too. You watch as his location doesn’t move for several minutes and you start to wonder just how bad could traffic really be. Your nerves are put to rest once you see him start to move. You pick the guitar back up, placing it on your lap where it perfectly sits each time. Missing her greatly, you play her song for no one but yourself, the image of her playing in your mind with each note. Oh how you dreamt of playing her song for her again when she returned. You yearn to feel those gorgeous eyes on you once again. The way she’d rest her hand on your thigh innocently with her head on your shoulder, or when she’d kiss the scar on your arm when you winced in pain from playing. In everything you did, there could easily be a piece of her found. You love her, all you can hope is one day she’ll realize maybe she loves you too. Your day dreaming and mindless strumming is abruptly cut short as your phone starts to ring. You see it’s Kathy again, being quick to answer. It’s probably just to inform you Bill’s at least on his way back, as not enough time had passed for him to be home. Maybe half way by now, but definitely not home. 
“Hey,” You don’t continue, crying being heard from the other side. What did you do Bill? Did he maybe run away? No… he loves her too much to do that.
“J-Jake… Bill, he’s… we need to-”
“Hey, hey, hey, breathe. It’s okay, what’s the matter?” 
“Can you meet me at Sparrow Emergency in Okemos? I-I can’t go alone, I can’t.” Her voice is frantic and shaky, every emotion but the happy ones coursing through her words. 
“What do you mean?”
“Bill- accident- in hospital. Jake, I need you. You’re the only other person that was close to him besides Y/n. Please?” Her pleading is wet and coated in so much pain, hurt and regret. 
“Yeah, of course. I’ll leave right now. Please drive safely.” All you get is a faint ‘okay’ before she hangs up. You run down the hall and rush to the door, naturally your path being blocked by your twin. 
“Josh, move. I need the keys.” You shove into him, trying to grab the keys of which are looped around Josh’s finger. 
“Fuck no, dude. You had the car all morning. I made plans to see Brennen today.” 
“Fuck Brennen, I need to go NOW, Josh.” You pin him against the door and grab a hold on his wrist as you attempt to rip the keys from his hands. 
“Jake, cool it! You’re hurting my arm!” It didn’t matter that he was in pain. You needed those damned keys, and you would stop at nothing to get them. 
“C’mon, Josh. Gimme! Bill’s in the hospital, I need to go!” You allowed yourself to wear your emotions in the tone of your words as reality began to set in. Bill’s in the hospital, anything could be happening right now. It’s like Shrödinger’s Cat, you have to assume both the best and the worst simultaneously. 
“Oh…” Josh’s entire face turns downward, his body grows limp in your hold as he’s no longer resisting. You let go and Josh places the keys into your palm. “I love you, brother. Let me know what happens.” He steps out of your way so you can finally exit the house. Completely disregarding the nature of the situation, you drive as fast as you can to get to Okemos. Google Maps open on your lap was the only thing acting as background noise. Driving in silence felt like your only option as you tried wrapping your head around all the possibilities and questions. All you can hope for is that Bill’s okay. There’s still so much he has to experience in the world. He still has to walk Y/n down the aisle for the grand wedding you secretly promised yourself to give to her, even if it isn’t with you. All the shows he promised to attend while SG’s in Paris. To hear the finished version of the song he wrote. 
An hour and ten minutes was far too long of being alone with your own thoughts, but you finally made it to the hospital. Kathy’s already there, her car empty and double parked. You park in the full open spot next to her and run inside. It didn’t matter how much air your lungs felt they needed, you ran as fast as your legs would take you, barreling through the doors until you were hunched over the front counter. 
“Can I help you sir?” A lady with curly black hair and glasses asked from behind the counter. 
“Yeah, uh… I need to see Y/l/n, William Y/l/n.” You were still desperately trying to fill your lungs with air. 
“Sure, just have a seat, sir. They’ll bring you back shortly.” 
You sat for what felt like forever, checking to see it’s only been a few minutes. They never called you back before you see Kathy coming down a hallway, mascara running down her swollen cheeks. She nearly runs until she falls into your arms. 
“Is everything okay? Where is he?”
“They tried,” She sobs into your chest. You look up at the doctor who had followed out behind her for more answers. 
“They had to use the jaws of life to get him out, it was a miracle he still had any pulse at all. We just barely kept him alive on the way here, but with all of the trauma, his body went into shock. He didn’t make it.” 
You hold onto Kathy a little tighter, resting your chin on the top of her head. The tears sit right on your lash line, but you can’t let Kathy see you cry. You need to be strong for her, you’re all she has at this very moment. You lost a friend, she lost the love of her life, the father of her only daughter. The grief was different granted you still hurt. 
“Kathy, we have to call her.” 
“Jake, it’s her birthday. I-I can’t do that to her.” Kathy pulls away and wipes the tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup more than it already was. 
“I know we don’t want to, but we have to. She deserves to know.” 
Kathy nods as she reaches for her phone and dials Y/n’s number. It rings, and rings, and rings until it goes through to voicemail. She tries one more time but to no avail. 
“Jake, she hasn’t talked to us since she got to Paris. She’s not gonna answer me.” 
“No, but she’ll answer me.” You didn’t want to sound cocky, but it was the truth. When she was drunk in a bar in Paris, she called you back. She had made you a part of her daily routine even from so far away. You dig in your pocket and pull out your phone to call her. It rings once before she answers, her light shining bright as always. And you hated the fact you were about to dim it once again. 
“Hi, Jakey!” Her voice drops as she realizes the look on your face. “What’s wrong pretty boy? Why are you crying?” 
“Y/n… Daddy… he,” Kathy mumbles, she’s unable to get the words out and you don’t expect her to be able. Instead of finishing her statement she starts to cry harder as you bring her to sit on a chair in the waiting area. 
“Jake, what’s going on? Where- are you at the hospital?” SG furrows her brows in confusion, you’re confused too, but you’ll try for her. 
“Are you in your room?” The last you wanted was to break the devastating news to her in front of a family that wasn’t hers. 
“Yes, Jake, I am. Now can you tell me what’s going on? Why is everyone crying? Where’s my dad?” Her words are sharp and wet, it’s all about to get so much worse and you feel terrible. 
“I-I’m so sorry… I am so, so sorry, my love.” You can’t help but to break down too. Reality is finally setting in as you try to gather the words. How do you tell someone four thousand miles away their dad died? It feels so unfair, not only her losing her father during such a pivotal time of adulthood, but on her birthday nonetheless. Would she let you help to heal? Let you take care of her the same, if not more? There was only one way to find out, unfortunately. 
“Jake, is he okay? Please answer me?” 
“No, no he’s not okay, Y/n. He got into a really bad accident, and-and he…” 
“Where is he?” She pleads through shaky sobs, you fear she already knows the answer, but she won’t stop until she hears it. 
“He’s dead, Y/n. They tried to save him.” Nothing but silence fills the air with the occasional sob coming from deep within. She didn’t need to speak for you to understand the pain she felt through every inch of her body. 
“No, that’s not true. H-he can’t be.” 
“I’m sorry, dove. I wish it weren’t true.”
“Fuck… Fuck, I need to come home. How am I supposed to come home? The flight back can’t be changed, what am I supposed to do?” She’s frazzled, and rightfully so after such heavy news. It isn’t fair, it hurts to see her like this. If you could take all her pain away, you would along with a hundred times before. You may not be able to take the pain away, but you could at least get her home. 
“One second.” You mute the call so SG can’t hear you as you direct your voice to Kathy. “Hey, I’m gonna book her a flight back. Gonna see if we can get her home by tomorrow.” 
“Jake, I don’t have the money to fly her home. I could probably ask someone in the family. I have to reach out to all of them anyways. This is so much.” 
“No, I’m booking the flight, and I’m paying for it too.” You open your banking app and transfer a large sump of money from your savings to your checking account before booking a flight. You don’t think twice before pressing pay and filling in all your payment information. After payment has been received you unmute yourself. 
“Hey, I think we figured it out.” And just like that you hear her gasp before crying some more. “Just be there in an hour, think you can do that?” 
“Strings… I can’t do this, I can’t take-”
“Shh, stop that. You can do this, and you didn’t take anything. Just please be there?” 
“Okay, okay. Wait, which one of you is getting me? Is Mom driving to Detroit?” 
“No, I’ll go since I’m closer. Ma should try and get some rest if she can. I’ll be there waiting for you, okay?” She pays you a quiet mhm before hanging up. You’d decided the day you met Bill, learned his passion for guitar, that you would use your savings to buy him the one he always wanted. Cherrywood 1961 Gibson Les Paul SG. As that was no longer an option, you felt the least you could do was bring his little girl home for him one last time. 
“Jake, please just let me know how much it was. Hopefully once Bill’s life insurance is paid out I can get the money back to you.” 
“Kathy, I’m not worried about the money. I don’t care if it took every penny to my name for her, she’s worth every cent.” 
Jakes letter and Necklace to SG as well as the letter Jake never received at this link
Taglist @writingcold @vanfleeter @gvfmelbourne @edgingthedarkness @watchingover-hypegirl @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @takenbythemadness
@gvfpal @jakesmustache
70 notes · View notes
Text
Aşk-ı Memnu | JJK
Tumblr media
Pairing: non idol! Jungkook x fem! married! Reader
Summary: What is prohibited, it's desired the most. Or in which you tangle yourself in a forbidden love with Jeon Jungkook while being married to an older man. Yet it is also said that forbidden fruits taste the best.
Warnings: fluff, angst, forbidden love, food ingestion, cheating, age gap, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption (during dinner), lying, mentions of death, reader is described to be shorter than Jungkook, (let me know if I missed anything)
Word Count: 1.8k
~Prompt 3: Saying “I love you” for the first time
~Snowflakes divider by @samspenandsword
~Prompt list by @flightlessangelwings
A/N: This short story was highly inspired by the Turkish novel of the same name "Aşk-ı Memnu" which translates as "Forbidden Love" in English. Let me know what you thought of this controversial story in the comments!
You can listen to the series' music on Spotify to get into ambience as it helped me a lot to write this. Just search it with the same Turkish name. Happy reading everyone!
Tumblr media
Love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.
It was cold outside, the night was heavy over the city. Snow was falling from the sky yet the house was warm. The clicking of the cutlery against the expensive china plates could be heard along with the flickering flames of the fireplace.
You sat next to your husband, the man clearly enjoying his dinner and you couldn't help but smile softly at his praises for the new cook.
"So, tell me Seokjin. How is your father?"
Asked your husband, a rich business man by the name of Lee Yong-su. Seokjin smiled against his glass of wine, he put it down and looked at your husband, the two men happily engaging in conversation.
"He's quite well, actually. His treatment is going smoothly and we expect a complete recovery by the end of February."
"Give him my regards when you see him, Seokjin."
The young businessman turned to look at you, bowing his head softly at you not minding at all the fact that you were younger than him.
"Of course, Mrs. Lee."
You smiled kindly at him before the conversation between Seokjin and your husband took place once more. You continued to enjoy your dinner, allowing your thoughts to wander for a bit.
The marriage with your husband had been really controversial given the age difference between you both and the fact that he already had two children with his other wife that you knew had passed away.
Nisun was the oldest. A seventeen year old girl who resented you for taking the place of her mother. Munwoo was the youngest, he was twelve and the innocent boy never ceased to claim that if you ever divorced his father, he'd marry you instead for he had always wanted to marry a beautiful woman when he was of age.
You found it cute whenever he mentioned something like that, only smiling at Munwoo before he got distracted with his videogames once more.
But those weren't the only people that lived in the mansion when you married your husband. There was someone else. A person you had met before you became Yong-su's wife.
Jeon Jungkook.
You knew that he was the only son of one of your husband's closest friends that had sadly died in a car accident when Jungkook was barely five years old. Yong-su had taken him under his wing, providing for him and taking care of him as if he were his own son.
Jungkook was also twenty-six, just like you. And that was the first motive so as to why you two clicked so easily. Yet that fact was the beginning of a web of lies and passion that you had never thought you’d be a part of. 
He was also very handsome, a sleeve of tattoos adorned his right arm, his lip and eyebrow were pierced and his hair was rebellious like his soul. Jungkook was a really attractive man and, according to his own phrasing, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. 
Lust ruled your relationship with the son of your husband’s best friend. Desires of the body, flames of the heart. Feelings were never involved, or at least that was what was planned in the very beginning. 
But to be honest, nothing was ever planned. This mess you were now tangled in started with a glance, continued with a kiss and ended with you in his bed. Sentiment was never supposed to happen. Everything was dominated by a mutual carnal infatuation. 
You weren’t in love with your husband. The marriage had only been a great opportunity for you and your soft revenge on your cruel mother but Yong-su was deeply in love with you. To him, it didn’t matter the nearly twenty years age gap between you both. It didn’t matter that he had been married before. It didn’t matter he already had two children. He loved you, he cherished you, he wanted you almost in a fierceful way. 
“Darling, are you alright? You aren’t usually this quiet during dinner.”
Looking at your right, you met the concerned gaze of your husband, you smiled slightly though not fully. 
“I’m alright, I just have a headache.”
Yong-su frowned, you felt the eyes of everyone on you, even Jungkook’s gaze. It burned you to even know he was looking at you. 
“Don’t worry about me, dearest.”
Silence filled the room after those words left your lips before soft conversations began to arise once more on the table. The children started talking about a new movie that was going to come out next week while your husband and Seokjin talked about business. Jungkook was still looking at you and you were able to read the concern in his dark eyes. 
You smiled at him, ever so delicately and he nodded subtly. Taking in your silent reassurance as he resumed his dinner. 
Butterflies flew in your stomach at his concern. At what you had seen in his eyes. Those hidden emotions behind his gaze. A dark galaxy you loved getting yourself lost in. The place where you found comfort during lonely nights and a refuge when your soul tormented you. Yet the fact that your love was forbidden only made you want it more. It attracted you more. You desired it more. You needed it more. Needed him. As if you were metal and Jungkook was your magnet. Like a forbidden fruit. Prohibited yet delicious.
Tumblr media
“Are you alright?”
You knew that voice. Its raspiness did things to you that shouldn’t happen as a married woman. His deep voice always captivated you. You turned around, facing Jungkook. He stood in the kitchen’s doorway, leaning against the frame as his gaze pierced your own with intensity that a shiver ran down your spine.
"Yes, I just took a pill for the headache. Don't worry, Jungkook."
He frowned softly at your last sentence, uncrossing his arms as he walked towards you with his large steps. Your breath hitched in your throat when he stood in front of you a little too close for it to be proper.
"I always worry about you, (y/n)."
You swallowed, not knowing what to say. Nothing came to your mind. There were no words in your mouth to express, no thoughts in your mind to keep you busy.
"You matter to me more than you could imagine."
You looked aside, trying to break free from this chain he held you in. You took a deep breath, eyes focusing on your nearly empty glass of water that rested on the counter.
"Stop it, someone could hear us."
He took another step towards you, eyes never leaving your form as he gazed down at you.
"Uncle Yong-su is in his study with Kim Seokjin,"
His fingers grabbed your chin ever so softly, turning your head so that your eyes met his before he continued in a soft murmur.
"and the children are already upstairs."
His hand cupped your face while his thumb caressed your cheek in delicate touches. His dark eyes took you in; your beauty, your personality. Your essence.
Your hand rested atop his own. Even when the feeling of his skin against your own burned you with desire and adoration, you weren't allowed to show your sentiment freely.
"I don't want to risk it, Jungkook."
He smirked at your whispered words. Daring to take another step until your chests were almost touching. His warm and minty breath fanned your face and you, once more, lost yourself in his enchanting eyes that held your whole world.
"Risk what, (y/n)? Us? Are you that scared of my love for you to be known to the world?"
Your eyes widened at his words. You took a step back in pure instinct, forcing his hand to leave your cheek as you shook your head in silent motions of hidden despair.
"Because I love you, (y/n). I have for a while. And it only keeps growing in my heart."
You took a deep breath, trying to process everything that was leaving his mouth, wrapping your head around the fact that Jungkook was in love with you. If anything, it complicated things even more yet that didn't mean you craved it any less.
"You can't. Jungkook, you can't love me."
His hands were on your shoulders the next second making a soundless gasp leave your lips. His eyes bore into yours like never before that you nearly felt his soul touch your own.
"But I do. And I do not regret it."
You stood in silence, never breaking eye contact with him. Why now? Why did he have to say such a thing now?
"If you do not love me, say it. Say it and nothing left my mouth. Say it and I'll try to stop."
But how could you say that you didn't love him when your heart beats for him and only him? How could you tell such a lie when you loved him more than your life?
"Jungkook, I-"
"Love, are you there?"
The voice of your husband was heard from around the corner. Your eyes widened in fear and Jungkook put a finger over his lips, signalling you to stay quiet as he went to hide behind a wall, opposite from the kitchen's entrance.
You turned around in time to face your husband crossing the doorway with a soft smile on his lips.
"Yes, I just took a pill for my headache."
Yong-su frowned and walked over to you, eyes searching on your own with concern.
"Are you alright? I need you to sign some documents but if you are not feeling right you can do it later."
Your eyes momentarily looked at where Jungkook was hiding before you shook your head with a smile.
"It's alright, I can do it now."
Yong-su nodded, walking out of the kitchen with you behind him. But just as you were about to leave the room, you turned to look back only to spot Jungkook peeking out from around the wall upon hearing your fading footsteps.
With your heart skipping a beat, you sent him a subtle nod. The trace of a smile over your lips before you disappeared behind the wall.
And it was in that moment that he smiled to himself, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest upon the silent confirmation of your love for him.
It didn't matter if it was prohibited, that it was a sin. That you were betraying your husband with Jungkook. For you were his forbidden fruit he should not even gaze at but your essence was addictive he couldn't think to stop himself. Not now, not ever, because love knows no boundaries. Love is untamable, like the sea. Like a flame. It exists, it consumes. It destroys.
Tumblr media
December/15/2023
☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕
102 notes · View notes
fever-fluff · 5 months
Text
Home V
Tumblr media
Word count: 3.2k (Not Proof Read) Azriel is butting heads with his new companion, being forced to recognise some hard truths...
Part IV , Part VI
The waves crashing against one another was a sound she hadn’t realised she’d missed so much in her time away. Brien had taken up post beside her, finally moving away from their guest for the first time since that night. She had felt his reluctance to carry out their journey after she had woken him for the terrors that had plagued his mind. It wasn’t the first time he had dealt with them, she supposed. But the undiluted fear that had come off him in waves was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.
So, she had silently requested Brien to accompany him when she couldn’t. And now that they’d made t to the swelling ocean, his anticipation to slip away had turned into a desire to run from what he’d promised. She’d smelt the shift so intensely that she almost felt bad for keeping him here. But their work was more important than running from inner demons, at least to her anyway. Besides, there was no telling whether he’d return to Indere to Mor, and she couldn’t allow someone a new friend held so dear decide to disappear into his shadows.
She moved away from them towards the cove they’d need to complete the journey from, walking down the steep rocks she’d passed so many times she didn’t need to follow Brien’s lead anymore, but his presence in front of her was a welcome one. They’d spent centuries together, sometimes it only being the two of them, and he had become apart of her just as much as she for him.
Aodhan was talking to Azriel behind her, explaining how they’d cross safely without fear of the swallowing waves beneath. “You’ll have to fly on the currents, making sure to take the ones sweeping up and avoiding those that’ll push you towards the swell. It gets easier as you do it, but winnowing is out of the question. There’s wards up that haven’t been broken longer than I’m alive.”
“And another reason Mor wouldn’t be able to cross regardless of whether she was allowed to or not.” He’d already pieced together that it was too dangerous to carry another fae as you navigated the currents. Aodhan nodded in confirmation, “We’ve had sailors and other fae try to cross before, whether they knew the islands were inhabited or not, we don’t know. Their secrets went down with them to the bottom of the sea.”
She was still looking towards the sound of the sea when she’d heard his next question. “Which still doesn’t explain how you’re crossing…” She smiled, not straying from her position, but pulled a sharp whistle to Brien who was preoccupied with sniffing around something to her right. Her voice cut loudly to the howling wind that had picked up as if it sensed the oncoming flight, “I can’t let you in on all my secrets just yet Shadowsinger.”
Brien moved to her feet, his physical body shifting into something else, something entirely magic. It swirled around her, climbing from her legs upwards and taking whatever was physical of her with it. There was no sign of her feet beneath her, not feeling of them either. They ceased to exist, as did the rest of her body as Brien climbed and climbed. It was always terrifying, feeling everything she was and is being turned into what felt like nothing. Brien had reached her neck as she bid her goodbyes, “I’ll see you both on the other side,” and the very last of her body was engulfed.
There was never any memory of what had happened once her consciousness was consumed. She had been something, then wasn’t, and until Brien decided to place her back in the physical world she did not exist in and shape or form. She always thought maybe one day, if Brien ever decided to, he could just allow her to be that way for eternity. She didn’t know if he could form his physical body without bringing her back, and never thought it necessary to find out. 
The return of her was always more tedious than the consuming, taking longer as if Brien wanted to make sure he didn’t forget to form a toe or a finger on the way back. Azriel and Aodhan hadn’t made it over yet, and she wondered if he’d actually attempted to make a run for it when she had disappeared. But the beats of two pairs of wings from the sea was enough to confirm her thoughts wrong. She sat perched on a rock, Brien wrapped loosely around her shoulders, purring loudly. He always craved the closeness of it after, as if he missed her presence in the short time she wasn’t there. Aodhan and Azriel were panting from the exertion it took to cross over, she wondered if either of them had gotten close to being swallowed on the way over.
She stood as the caught their breath, moving to greet the two of them on home soil. Home. It felt good to be able to call the ground she stood on that. The chieftains were right to call her, it had been far too long.
“Azriel” his body turned to her attention, “welcome to our home.”
    
Azriel never, never, wanted to agree to a race like that again. After he had gotten over his spluttering about how Brien had practically eaten her in a wave of pure magic, Aodhan had insisted that it was the best way to cross, that it would take his mind off the sheer force that would be beneath him. But it had done no such thing, and he’d nearly toppled through the rough wind too many times and fell straight into a watery grave. Dancing with death had always been easy for him and his brothers, but that was sheer stupidity.
But, looking at where he’d be stationed for the next while, he understood what that graveyard beyond the cliffs was hiding.
Peace.
He felt it in the wind, soft and warm unlike the ones he’d just flown through. Lush green covered the sloping sides of the tops of the cliffs above him, a colour so inviting he felt the itch to roll in it like he were a dog. Trees of every kind seemed to guard him on both sides, and the sounds of running water filed his ears from somewhere. There was a quiet here he had never felt before, there was no inkling of being alert for oncoming dangers from somewhere. This place was a land that felt like he had passed on, but the aches in the muscles holding his wings and the tightness still filling his chest from a lack of air grounded him from thinking he had truly died going over the water.
They had begun to walk inland, passing floral and fauna that had gone undisturbed for centuries, unperturbed by their trek and seemingly unaware of the predators they could be. Azriel had never seen the likes of it -even Velaris, the city which held an imaginable number of dreams and hopes couldn’t hold a candle to the utter surrealness of this place.
Even watching her as she walked among paths long trodden into the earth, her steps were lighter than before. Like she had nothing to fear behind the bends ahead or the treeline to her side. Brien didn’t walk as closely to her either, shifting between prancing legs and swift wings as he basked in the afternoon sun overhead. The stopped slightly as they came to a dip in the land, the expanding view of her land filling his vision. She nodded towards Aodhan, “Fly ahead and let everyone know we’re back.” His arrival with them a silent command between her words was not lost on him as Aodhan unfurled his wings and split through the air, the gust he left behind making Azriel plant his feet more firmly in place. Before he had even looked to the sky, Aodhan had flown out of sight.
“Sometimes I forget the strength he has until he takes off.” The fondness in her voice was contagious and Azriel found himself smiling along. “You must be proud.”
Her face had tilted towards the sun to take in the heat as she sighed, “You have no idea.”
“When he was fifteen, he’d crash landed into the roof of our home, falling into where I was sitting trying to enjoy a glass of wine after a long day. It took him a week to repatch the hole. But the entire time all he could talk about was how fast he had flown and how he’d become faster and faster.” They were walking side by side now, his attention raptly on the joy she seemed to light up with as she gave him a laugh, “I couldn’t even be mad about the roof, or that he could have hurt himself. He seemed so happy in that moment that all I wanted from then on was to keep it that way, that he’d never feel bad about being who he was.”
“His happiness meant your happiness” Azriel thought back to Nyx, already noting the familiar feeling he had for his nephew brewing in his chest. “My brother, he has a little one now with his mate. I’m certain the whole family would tie the stars on strings for him if it’d make him smile.”
“It’s terrifying, thinking what you’d justify to bring them happiness. Everything is fair game when it comes to them.” her sentiment was horrifyingly true for Azriel. If anything -or anyone- ever got in the way of Nyx, not only would Feyre and Rhys burn the world, the rest of them would destroy whatever ash was left over in their wake. The air had turned tense around them for a moment until she spoke again, “It’s the reason I’m doing this, pushing to open the boarders that is… Aodhan, like many of the younger ones, is restless. He’s never truly seen the rest of the world. And this peace we’ve created, it’s become suffocating for them.”
She made to grasp his hand, gripping his fingers with hers stiffly, as if it would convey how much resolve she had in her to make this happen. “Children of peace are so different from children of war, Azriel. He – they – need the freedom we’ve kept from them for too long.”
He wanted to believe her, truly. But he’d seen so much of the ugly side of the world that he couldn’t bring himself to stop the words spilling from his mouth, “The world isn’t as welcoming as you think. It’s not as beautiful as here, the wounds are still so fresh from everything that I doubt even the next few centuries can fix it. Too much blood has been shed…”
“And yet your sister tends to those wounds not far from here, doing the work so many before have been too scared to even consider a possibility.” Something hard had entered her tone, and he felt himself wishing to take back his words if only to remove it as quickly as it had come, but he persisted. “She’s creating trade routes, what you’re implying is opening up a world, an unknown world, to the rest of us. You can’t possibly think it will end in peace…”
“She’s connecting worlds, how is that so different from what I want?”
“You know damn well how different it is. You’ve been cut off from the rest of us for centuries! You hid during wars that the rest of us bled for, how welcoming do you think our world will be to yours once they realise you have come out of everything unscathed while the rest of us clawed our way out of hel to rebuild what was left?” She’d ripped her grip from his at that, eyes hardening and levelling him. Even though he knew she couldn’t very well see him, Azriel had a mind to take a step back. “Do not try to educate me on political matters I am damn well aware of Shadowsinger. I see now I should have let you slink off in your fear instead of having Brien watch you like a dog.”
Azriel bristled at her admission, “Fear? Do you think that was what that was?” the distance he created closed instantly as he matched her stance a hair’s breadth away, “I have come here, an unknown territory with unknown fae, unguarded and you believe I am afraid?” His wings had spread wide, shadows pouring from them steadily as if to snuff the light that surrounded the two of them forever in a sea of darkness. But the female in front of him didn’t cower, didn’t balk at his act of dominance as so many others had.
“I have been alive for over seven hundred years; I know fear when I smell it. And the stench of it smothers you Azriel, whether you realise it or not.”
The hitch of his breath seemed to pull her from the fight she seemed so wound up to have, and she sighed when he answered her with a growl. “Azriel, I am not ignorant to what fae outside these islands may think. But this is the only step forward. If you do not want to help, then that is your choice, and you may leave whenever you want. But do not shut a door you haven’t properly opened yet.”
As she stepped away from him and the wave of shadows around them, turning to begin the walk again, Azriel felt himself torn in two. He was still angry, her implication still stinging fresh, but he hadn’t lost himself enough to forget the rest of her words. So, begrudgingly, he made to follow. Brien had flown back in between it all probably to ensure his masters safety and now slunk in between her steps, chuffing at him as if it was his fault the mood had turned sour. He growled back lowly at the disrespect, but the familiar had already taken to ignoring him in favour of watching a butterfly in the nearby brush.
  
Azriel wasn’t sure what to expect with his arrival, newly announced as it was. For somewhere so disconnected, surely a newcomer would warrant some type of wariness in the form of unchecked violence should the need arise. But, as they reached as small town that she had told him was one of many that sat on the outskirts of the main part of the island, he was met with very much the opposite.
Fae with wings very much like Aodhan’s had come out in groups to get a glance of what they’d heard to be an emissary of the known world. Small children, more than he had ever seen in one place his entire life, huddled in groups or at the legs of who were most likely their parents as he passed through beside her. Their whispers reached his ears quickly.
Gods, look at his wings…
Mom, why do they look like that?
Dad, why does his wings look different to ours?... He’s not fae like us son, he’s a foreigner. What’s a foreigner? Ahhhh, it’s someone who comes from a different place than you do… Oh….
Do you think he can fly in the rain?
Wonder where he’s coming from? Probably the continent, it’s where Danu was last visiting.
He looked to her in question of the last whisper he listened to, “Danu?”
“An honorary title, it’s what most fae will use instead of my given name.” He hummed his understanding, “So should I be using it as well?”
She threw him a shrug as they entered one of the buildings, “If you want, it makes no difference to me.”
The building turned out to be a tavern of a sorts. Bottles lined the shelves behind a counter, and tables with precarious looking stools littered the rest of the floor. But she made for the back of the room, pulling back a piece of fabric to reveal a better looking table and chairs made for those with wings more private than the rest of the place. Danu, he supposed it would be best if he honor her name here for the good graces of the rest, motioned for him to sit while she went to grab the bottle and two tumblers the barkeep had left on the counter without a word.
Pouring what looked to be whiskey for each of them, she lifted her glass in cheers to his and downed it in one go. It burned his throat as fire would going down, hitting the base of his stomach far harder than any liquor in Rita’s ever had and he found himself staving off a cough.
“Uisce thine, one of the best things to ever grace the world of drinking.” Azriel didn’t really agree with her sentiment. If either Cassian or Nesta got their hands on the likes of this, well, there wouldn’t be much to keep the chaos that would ensue from happening. “Perhaps you should keep this on the island.” Their spat from earlier on seemed to be a matter of the past for her as she laughed in understanding. Pouring a second round, she began to tell him more of her home and how to navigate it. “Muintir na Lasrach are an old race, they predate even some families of high fae and our customs are much different to yours.”
He listened closely to how they didn’t believe in the mother creating the known world, and how the phoenix was one of four gods who had given up a single feather to create them from fire, wind and clay. “Like the phoenix, they’re incredibly selfish down to their very nature, so I’d be careful if you decide to venture outside of political connections and who you choose to do that with. Male and females alike are extremely territorial if they’ve claimed someone for themselves, and because you’re an outsider death wouldn’t be too harsh a punishment if you put a foot wrong.” Azriel felt his stomach drop as the memory of Rhys swearing him off Elain resurfaced. He’d made the mistake of coming between fate once before, he wouldn’t do it again. “No mates. Noted.”
Her brows pulled together in rebuttal. “There’s no mates on the island, at least not in your knowledge of the term. Everyone here chooses their partner of their own accord, no fate involved. They’re just extremely territorial is all I’m saying.”
Azriel didn’t know how to comprehend what she’d admitted. Regardless of whether they believed in the mother or not, how could there be no semblance of mates anywhere. “How is that possible?”
She made to pour one last drink for them before they’d go to an inn for the night, “A story for another time. Drink up, and I’ll tell you the rest of what you need to know after we’ve had some stew.”
Pronunciation of words
Muintir na lasrach —> mwin-ter na lass-rock
Uisce Thine —> ish-kah chin-a
Aodhan —> a-dawn
Taglist @mis-lil-red, @justdreamstars, @florencemtrash
93 notes · View notes
cafeinthemoon · 11 months
Text
King - Chapter V
Chapter 5/?
Title The Particle of the Sun
Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok
Previous chapters
1 . 2 . 3 . 4
Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤
Warnings: A not so subtle (and very problematic) threat from Poseidon involving pregnancy
Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)
N. A.: Finally a new chapter!! Yay! I wanted this chapter to be as long as the previous ones, but I thought I've already reunited enough information in these less than 3k words (hope you don't mind). About the story of the Particle: a curious fact about Poseidon that I discovered recently was that he was deity responsible for the Delphic Oracle alongside Gaia before Apollo was even born. I couldn't find many details about this, but my headcanon is that Poseidon still has the gift of clairvoyance, or extended vision, as said by himself here, and this will show in crucial moments of this story. I also found a way to explain the existence of days and nights under the sea and I'm very proud of my work in this :)
Tumblr media
When you opened your eyes, you noticed a slight change in the shade of the curtains: the abyssal black was replaced by a softer form of blue, the same blue of the sea’s surface on a sunny day. There was absolute silence in the canopy’s interior, which only changed when you decided to sit on the bed.
It was strange that you were left to sleep there: you thought you would be sent back to the lodge after the wedding’s consummation, but you were kept in your husband’s chambers for that entire night. You were debating the reason for this when you noticed a tall shadow approaching the canopy’s entry, and a hand showed up between the fabric to open it.
When the curtains were separated, the morning light shone into the space, exposing the messed sheets and the tiny human cradled among them to the eyes of the Lord of the Seas, who kept observing you with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval, as if finding hard to believe that you needed such a long period of sleep.
Well, you had no idea of how long you’ve been there, but you found that absurd.
Does this man know nothing about the human nature? If he wanted me to wake up earlier, he could’ve just called me.
It was when you noticed he was dressed in a formal, bluish attire... and realized it was the first time you saw him properly dressed. That made you look at yourself and pull the sheets up to cover your torso.
Poseidon frowned at this attitude.
– Why are you doing this? There is no need for you to cover up now. I have already seen everything I had to see.
Your reply came in an impulse.
– I’m cold.
He stared at you for a moment, then pointed at the empty space beside him.
– Here.
You tried to leave the bed using the sheets to cover yourself but, once you were under his reach, he pulled them away, throwing them back on the bed and closing the curtains. You crossed your arms before your chest: staying undressed and disheveled in front of a god under the daylight and when he himself was wearing full clothes provoked a new, incomparable embarrassment in you.
– Come with me – he spoke it like an order and, before you could do anything, he took you in his arms.
Unlike you told him, you weren’t really cold, but the absence of the sheets caused you shivers that only ceased when you were on his lap, and for a moment you allowed yourself to relax, leaning your head on his chest. It was curious that, despite the sensation of complete unfamiliarity that surrounded every aspect of your relationship with that man, you were still able to find good things in them, such as this sort of safeness in his grip and the pleasure you experienced in his touch. If this was thanks to some spell or if you were just susceptible, you were yet to find out.
That time, you were carried to a dressing area: your husband stopped with you in the middle of a room with an infinity of clothes, shoes and other female accessories, ready to be worn; on a corner, there was a screen with hand painted illustrations of coral reefs and other marine concepts, similar to the one you had on your lodge and, beside it, an open door that led to a bathroom.
Poseidon put you down and turned to a rack at his left, taking a dress with him and giving it to you.
– Put it on and go wash your face – he instructed – I will be waiting here.
What you heard instead of this was Do not let me waiting.
You did as he said, entering behind the screen to put the dress despite what he said when you cover yourself up with the sheets, then cleaned your face and fixed your hair. When you went back to him, he held your shoulders and made you turn around; you didn’t need to ask what he was doing, for soon you noticed his fingers brushing your hair. After this, he took a shawl and wrapped it around you, then took your hair out of it. You didn’t think he believed when you said you were cold, but the message behind the gesture was clear: as much as he expected you to take his words seriously, he was able to do the same for his wives, so that you had all the reasons to pay attention to the things you said to him.
Poseidon brought his hands to your shoulders again, making you turn back to him.
– Still cold?
You made a negative sign with your head.
– No, my Lord.
– Good.
You thought he was going to take you out of that room, and maybe that was his intention, but he gave up on it when he touched your ears, making you flinch.
– They are a bit swollen. What happened?
– It’s probably because I slept upon them, my Lord...
You were going to say that they would stop aching soon, but he went to a vanity and brought a tiny pot of salve with him before you could open your mouth. Stopping in front of you, he took a bit of the product and spread it between his fingers, passing them on your ears, massaging around the earrings.
– It will soothe the ache – your husband went to put the salve back on its previous place.
You nodded.
– Thank you, Poseidon-sama.
His response was a sigh.
– You are so delicate it is impressive that nothing more than this happened.
That time, the impatience you felt bubbling inside you was too much, and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.
– My fragility seems to be an issue for you, my Lord. I’d like to understand the reason I was brought here, if possible.
For a moment, you congratulated yourself for finally speaking out, but as soon as Poseidon laid his eyes on you, you sensed your courage diminishing in an impressive speed: you looked away, your fingers griping on the shawl’s fabric with nervousness; you felt his hand surrounding your jawline, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth.
– It is just something I had to do, dragonet. For my own sake. It is nothing you should be concerned about.
***
You had your breakfast with your husband on a small table placed at the chambers’ balcony, as large as a common, human house, with a privileged view of the white beaches through which you’ve passed to enter the castle and the furious waters that surrounded them, now showing deep, mutable shades of green under the light.
It was something that has been intriguing you since you arrived, but you haven’t had the chance to bring it out in your conversations with Alyssa: when Poseidon brought you to the balcony – in his arms – and you were exposed to that light, the intensity and the warmth of it on your skin were enough to make you think that, if you didn’t know you were under the sea, you could be easily convinced that it was the true sun.
You were sitting on a white chair while your husband took the place before you, having a beautiful breakfast prepared for two, with fruits, tea and bread, everything with excellent aspect just like the food that was offered to you at the lodge. You weren’t sure if you should start eating now or wait for him to do it, but Poseidon didn’t seem inclined in this sense. At the same time, your hesitation was noticed and questioned by him.
– I’m not hungry, my Lord.
– At least take some tea – he replied – It will help you to stay warm.
You obeyed, filling a tiny cup with the liquid in silence. A conversation then took place.
– Are you still cold?
– No, my Lord.
– You don’t seem tired now. Did you sleep well?
– Yes, my Lord. Thank you for asking.
He nodded in approval, then suddenly changed the subject.
– You seem curious about the illumination system of this kingdom. Do you think it resembles the sunlight?
Your eyes widened at this.
Such sharp eyes, those ones.
– Yes, Poseidon-sama. It’s something I’ve been observing since I arrived.
– It is because you are indeed seeing the sunlight – he continued, answering the mystery – This is a story I do not mind telling you. Long time ago, I was the responsible for the Delphic Oracle before Apollo. All my houses were placed upon the waters by that time, but I was planning to bring all of them into one, on the seabed. I offered my connection with the Oracle to him and demanded a particle of the Sun in return, just enough to make life possible for non sea creatures in the depths of the ocean. Apollo accepted the deal and ordered the Particle to behave as if it was still in the skies, and this kingdom have been experiencing days and nights since then.
Poseidon told that story while observing the surroundings, as if talking to himself; he spoke as if all of that happened yesterday, and you were hearing in stunned silence. As someone who wasn’t raised to praise the gods, you knew nothing beyond their names, and cared little about them and their acts; that was entirely new for you. But if there was something you were quick to realize when you met them, specially the one who married you, was that they never did anything without a reason, or without expecting something in return, so that the story of the Oracle made total sense to you. You weren’t sure why Poseidon was telling you something that probably happened in a time when none of your ancestors existed, but it was intriguing that a proud being like him would give up on such an important treasure as an Oracle in favor of another deity, no matter what he would receive in exchange for it.
Since he didn’t oppose to it, you questioned him about it.
– Forgive my ignorance in these subjects, my Lord, but is hard to believe that such exchange really happened.
Contrary to what you expected, your doubts didn’t provoke the slightest sign of irritation in your husband: instead, he held a smirk on his lips, observing you with a sort of pity for the said ignorance.
– You really know nothing about gods, don’t you, dragonet? – and, without waiting for a response, – When I passed the Oracle’s management to Apollo, I was not sacrificing a belonging. Instead, I was delegating a responsibility to a younger god, in a way that his work would increase and mine would diminish. I no longer own the Oracle, but I still have the ability of extending my vision; besides, Proteus, who is a prophet himself, still works for me. On the other hand, Apollo has gained experience over the ages, and with experience came power. The Particle of the Sun that he gave to me will be forever a sign of his gratitude, since I was the one who made him the offer.
Gratitude? Was he trying to teach you a lesson about this? But why?
You chose your words carefully.
– I understand you have a reason to tell me all of this, my Lord. But I fail at perceiving it.
Poseidon opened a genuine smile of contentment, and that was the most unsettling moment you had with him since the wedding: though you were now dressed, you were still feeling exposed, too close to him to try and escape, whether with your words or your feet. You observed his expression and realized it was the first time you were seeing the natural light touching your husband’s figure, a vision that enchanted and scared you at the same time: the rosy shade on his cheeks and lips, the golden shine of his hair, the blue of his eyes glowing between those long, white lashes, all of this on an impossibly proud, young face, that has been like this since the oldest past and would stay the same in the furthest of futures. To you, it was inconceivable that someone could be so beautiful yet so menacing.
But not only this was possible through his looks, but also through his words, given what he said to you next.
– Good girl, always saying the right things. But I would like to know if you are just as grateful. So, tell me: have you already thought of how you are going to thank me for granting you my favor last night?
Since you took too long to understand what he was talking about, Poseidon didn’t mind explaining.
– I did you the favor of not making you bear a child right in your first night as my wife, though I still think it is a strange thing to ask, not to say foolish. This is what I want to know: what will you do for me in return?
You swallowed. In fact, your husband’s agreement with such an uncommon request came too quickly even for you, who didn’t know him so well. Of course such generosity wouldn’t come for free.
You opened your mouth in an impulse, but held your tongue just in time, granting yourself a moment to think of a wise answer.
– I... What do you need me to do, my Lord?
Poseidon still had the same content smile on his lips, to which you felt some relief.
He’s still having fun with this. And, as long as he stays like this, I’ll be safe.
– That you are very clever, I already know, and your talent with words might keep me entertained for quite some time. It would be a waste if you would just stay with the common duties of a secondary wife, so I have a task for you: since you will not use your time to bear and raise any child until the next year, you will have entire days to go to my children’s training area and observe each of them. You will figure out each one’s most efficient technique and find weaknesses in them. Once you do it, you will develop a solution for that. Given you are a smart girl, I believe it is something up to you.
You had your hands on your lap, holding each other with all the strength they had to avoid trembling, but you had no guarantee that the same nervousness didn’t raise to your face. Yes, you wouldn’t become a mother, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t have any contact with your husband’s children – that was the trap he has been preparing for you. And, by asking him what he needed you to do for him instead of thinking of something to offer, you easily fell into it.
I tried to examine the territory before making my offer, just like my father told me. But I should have known that what usually works with humans would be just useless while negotiating with a god. How stupid of me.
– What you will do to accomplish this is also up to you – he continued – Though I must warn you about the deadline: you will be given one year for this, nothing more. The counting will start tomorrow, by the morning, and will end in the next year, by a morning as well. By the end of this period, you will have to show me the results of your work. I will evaluate it and, if it is satisfying, your current condition, that is, of not bearing any children, will remain. However, if you show to be unable to fulfill this task…
Your heart ached, as if held tight by cold fingers, fearing what would follow those words. The table’s size was such that it allowed you to reach each other by touch, and that was precisely what your husband did: he stretched his arm over it to touch your face, making you startle despite the warmth of his skin. He brushed your hair behind your ear and you breathed deep, not daring move away.
– I still have to think of how things will be for you, dragonet – his voice was now a whisper; you looked at him and noticed an increase in his cheeks’ blush – But I cannot help thinking that you would look pretty with a rounded, swollen belly under your dress.
There was no need for explanations this time.
This offer, that sounded more like a threat, was absurd – not to say terrifying. But it was not the end for you: it was the beginning of a year full of work and discoveries, just like the ones that preceded it. And if you’ve already gone so far – entering that domain and staying alive, making a human friend where you thought you’d never see another human beyond yourself and managing to have your offer accepted by the Tyrant of the Seas – thinking of giving up didn’t make sense now.
I’m already in the bottom of the sea… What should I fear now?
You did your best to stand Poseidon’s gaze. He still had his hand close to you: you put your own upon it and turned your lips to his palm, giving it a soft, docile kiss.
– I will not disappoint you, Poseidon-sama.
And I will not disappoint myself either.
201 notes · View notes
meowzfordayz · 5 months
Text
when the war is over; will our ghosts dance together, or will we ourselves dance hand in hand
Tomioka Giyuu x Reader
Word Count: ~700
CW: canonical violence, death content, depression, implied self harm, PTSD, traumatic references
Emergency Request Fulfilled: I am, I’m just feeling tired my work is so draining emotionally, mentally, physically and I know I’m burnt out because I’m just apathetic. (...) I want someone to take care of me; like I took care of the people I used to know. I feel like I’m spent and I have nothing left to give. It’s so hard for me to make friends again because I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know how to carry on a conversation anymore, if it’s because I’m scared or what or if I’m tired and I know things are going to end soon. (...) I want to let out the frustrations on me instead of someone else… I’d rather be hurt instead.
I hope this makes sense..? I am feeling like this again and I’m just tired ya know. You can pair it with any character you like, it’s all free reign for you. A comfort angst I suppose.
He knows how you feel
Recognizes the glimmer of defeat
In your soft gaze, so intent on pressing into his chest
Defeat has an odd shine to it
A sense of finality, of strength, at the end of a
Sea of doubt, longing, emptiness accepted in place of
Warmth
Tumblr media
Sometimes, he wishes he could ask you
“How are you feeling?”
Oftentimes, he’s afraid your reply will be
“Fine. And you?”
How is he supposed to answer such deflected pain?
How can he reveal his own lonesome while trying to fill yours?
Perhaps this is why they say
You must love yourself before loving
Others
You must look out for yourself before looking out to
The One
Tumblr media
Recovery is a fickle creature
As numbing as it is freeing
As quiet as it is difficult to ignore
Screaming in one’s head day in, day out
Etched into one’s skin, the drag of a blade
The shiver of a downpour
Puddles of blood seeping into moistened ground
Why does rain so frequently shed itself on the battlefield?
Tumblr media
But he can tell
The lingering taste of war, of death
Is not your sole accompaniment
You are similar, but not the same
Walking a pace a step faster than his, sunken in a different weight of anxiety
Of dread
As he is
He wants, craves, a connection with you
Fixing, helping, someone else
But how?
And what?
And why?
He’s never thought of himself as a savior
A victim, more like it
And is it truly so grand, so honorable, of him
To desire a caress with heroism for the sake of healing
Of selfishness
And not necessarily out of curiosity, compassion, for your haunted tremors
Tumblr media
He still remembers the one time you came to him
Well, really, he was the only soul around
“Tomioka-san. How do you tolerate it?”
And he had frowned, unable to meet your shaken stare, blue eyes glazed from an evening of ash and maroon, sunrise an unwilling accomplice in fulfilling his duties
“I don’t,” he’d deadpanned, turning from your telltale scars, so similar
So different
From his
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Tumblr media
He wonders, too
Of course he does
Wonders what he would do if he ever caught you
Caught you in your act of hatred and denial
Physical rendition of the song that’s been on repeat in his head
Wonders if the lyrics are identical
Underlining his every thought, just as they overline your wrists
He likes to imagine he would comfort you
Would be able to tug you into his arm, cool and solid, unfaltering and steady
But he thinks, in fact, that he’d be angry
Upset
Disappointed
Arm crossed, tight, unwelcoming, as his demons fraternize with yours
Lips pursed in desperation
Come here, I promise I won’t hurt you
Stuck beneath loathing
Tumblr media
“Do you miss them?” you murmur, village sprawling out below the damp, thatched roof
Stars twinkling, teasing, dancing among the slivers of cloud above
“I do,” Giyuu confesses, inhibitions low, fingers cold with grief, “I’m grateful for this new world, but I fear my existence ceased along with the old one.”
“Tomioka-san,” you smile faintly, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“We barely know each other,” he mutters
“And are we to blame?” you chuckle, the sound brittle and forced, “It’s always been safer for us.”
To not get attached
“I wish I knew how to live.”
Me too you almost admit, head drooping with fatigue, elbows propped on your knees, legs hugged to your sternum
“I wish I knew how to live for myself,” he clarifies Everyone that mattered is gone
Sleep claims your response, limbs gradually relaxing, the rough fabric of his haori tucked around your shoulders before he leaves
Tumblr media
“How about this…”
You glance at him, hesitant
Hopeful
“I’ll care for you. You’ll care for me.”
“You don’t already?” you tease gently, giggling when his eyes widen with alarm
“I-”
“I’m teasing, Tomioka-san,” you quickly assure him, “I appreciate your company.”
“I would like to walk beside you.”
He is shy
Sweet
A realization that
This is what could have been
“Okay,” you nod slowly, “But my pace isn’t consistent.”
“That’s alright,” he shrugs, “As long as we keep walking.”
77 notes · View notes