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vase-of-lilies · 11 months

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It's Been a Long Time

❀ WandaNat x Reader (f)

❀ Warnings: SMUT, desperate sex, separation, cannon typical violence, oral (r receiving and w receiving), shmexy toys, use of a strap-on, poly!relationship, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), tattooed reader (just a small one on her chest), nats and Wanda's mommy milkers, overstimulation, body worship, lots of orgasms, this is just super smutty and I hope you like it lol, sadness, tears, angst, captivity (not of reader), mommy kink (not MDLG), use of a butt plug and lube, female masturbation, voyeurism(?), threesome, lots of aftercare, kisses, fluff, and goodness!

❀ Request: SMUT! smexy, depraved smut with lots of overstimulation, body worship, oral, orgasms, and toys, just allll the slutty and smutty goodness 🤤

❀ A/N: I really hope you like this one! I set it after Captain America: Civil War when Nat exposes everything about the accords and herself, and Wanda goes to the prison on the ocean thingy. So they both go home to their girlfriend who just misses them like crazy:(

When you heard the news of the Avengers getting caught, your heart broke. The two women you loved were a part of the team, and their getting caught was the first thing on your list you were worried about, besides them getting killed, of course. Natasha and Wanda had fallen for you when you approached them while they were having coffee one morning. You had noticed that Wanda had dropped her wallet, so you quickly went to return it to her.

Unbeknownst to you, that day would change the trajectory of your entire life. The two women would smother you with their eternal love for you, take care of you when you were sad, love you when you had a hard time loving yourself, and leave you alone when you wished. They understood you, knew you, and just loved you. They showed their love in different ways;

Wanda showed it through words. Telling you how beautiful you are, saying she loves you, holding your hand in public, kissing your head when you woke up every morning. Natasha, she was a little different. Being more conservative and hidden, she showed her love in smaller ways. Protective looks at someone who is looking at you, gifting you flowers she picks from the compound garden, and tickling your back during movie nights.

Unfortunately, both women knew what they signed up for when they decided to join the Avengers. They put the people of their city before themselves. It was heroic, and you loved that about them. They were admirable and inspiring. Even when Wanda made a mistake with her powers, you still loved her. Even when Natasha turned her back on you and Wanda, you still loved her the same as well.

As you were watching TV, an emergency broadcast sounded, and you watched in horror as the Avengers were seen being escorted onto a large plane, going only god knows where. Clutching the shirt-sewn pillow, you hold it close to your heart, silent tears falling down your cheeks. Wanda looked heartbroken at what was unraveling, and Natasha looked defeated as she was escorted into a police car.

You glared red-fiery bullets at Tony Stark, who stands with Vision, Spider-Man, and other people you thought were your friends. They were watching their team get captured, rendering the city in danger as the most powerful of people were locked away. Reaching for your phone, the first person you call is Wanda. No answer. Next, you call Natasha. No answer. In a fit of desperation, you call Tony.

"What the fuck did you do?? Why are you doing this??" You scream into the phone as you hear Tony's smug voice on the other side. He sighs and lets you scream at him.

"Y/n, listen to me. They are a danger to-" You didn't let him finish.

"They are your fucking team, Stark. You are more dangerous than all of them combined! They have friendships that can never be undone, promises that can't be broken, lovers-" your voice cracks and you whimper. "Fuck you, Stark. Fuck you, and fuck your so-called morals." Before he got a chance to respond, you hung up the phone.

The channel changes on its own, and you see Natasha's picture on the screen. A headline below her says, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the assailant behind the escape of Captain America." You shook your head, knowing they wouldn't arrest her if it was on her watch. She would be on the run, and with everyone knowing who she is, she won't be coming home to you.

Wanda, you didn't know where she went or what happened to her. You prayed and begged someone, anyone, to bring them back to you. But nothing, no matter how hard you tried, they were nowhere to be found.

It would be weeks before you showered again. You were staying up late every single night worrying, researching, and calling people, trying to find where your lovers were. You tried looking for the sightings of Natasha, but no luck. You tried finding out where Wanda was by tracking the plane number you saw on the TV. But no luck either; it was military-protected. But one day, an unknown number called you. Immediately you picked up, not caring who it was.

"Y/n? This is Rogers. I can't talk long, but Wanda and Natasha are coming home. I have them located, and they are both safe. Give them time, but soon."

You sighed in relief and responded, "Where are they? Please, I need to know; I need to know where they are!"

Steve was quiet for a second, "I'm sorry, I can't disclose that information right now. Give them a week, and they'll be home, ok?" He waited for a response, but you hung up and threw your phone to the other side of the room.

You were angry and worried about your girlfriends. Steve was a little help with the burner phone call, but it still made you infuriated that he didn't tell you where they were. You knew that he couldn't be tracked fully with a burner phone, but you didn't know what technology Stark would use to capture him again.

Just like Steve said, it would be another week before you would see them. So you cleaned yourself up a little bit. You showered, tidied your room and the rest of the apartment, and decided to cook an actual meal—a simple [enter your favorite easy meal here] dinner for you and your lovers.

That is, whenever they came back to you.

~~~~~~~

You had got through the week Steve said they would be here, but they still did not show. Maybe they forgot about you? Maybe they didn't love you anymore. Those were the thoughts coming through your head 24/7. After the phone call with Steve, you felt something. You felt a spark of hope and were confident they were going to come home, yet they didn't.

But the day came when they finally did—the day started as every other one, in bed, unmotivated to do anything. You had gotten in the habit of staring at the picture of you, Natasha, and Wanda in central park. You were squished in between the two of them, their lips connecting to both of your cheeks as you smiled in the middle of them. It was your favorite picture of you three, as it brought back memories from the "good ole' days."

You had found that showering washed the pain away for a temporary time. The water flowed down your skin with ease and, in turn, felt like you were a new woman. Today was no different. You got in the shower, and like every other day, you continued to pray and beg anything for your lovers to come home. With every bubble that fell through the drain, you counted your wishes. It felt useless trying to hope for them to come home anymore. But you knew you had to keep trying.

After you got dressed, you went to the kitchen for some breakfast. [Enter your favorite breakfast food here] sounded amazing, and once you made it, it hit the spot. You were in your thoughts for a long time before you noticed a small knock at the door. You figured it was a package you ordered, so you answered it.

To your utter surprise, Wanda and Natasha stood right in front of you. In the flesh, alive and breathing. Wanda was in a musty blue jumpsuit, and Natasha looked like she was in hiding, her red hair growing long over her shoulders. You stared in disbelief at the two women in front of you. Not sure if they were real or not.

"I-is it you?" You whisper, tears prickling in your eyes. Wanda smiled, lifting her hand to cradle your cheek.

"It is, sweetheart. We're home." Wanda responded, a sad smile painted on her lips.

You let out a sob and wrapped your arms around the two of them. You hid your face in Natashas' chest as you pulled Wanda closer to you. "Wh-why did you leave? Why didn't y-you come home?" You whimpered, your voice muffled by the soft material of Nats' maroon shirt.

The two women looked at each other, and Natasha took the lead.

"We were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time милая (honey), and we had to go away for a little bit." She said, giving your head a soft kiss as she ran her fingers through your wet hair. You sigh in relief as you feel Wanda give you a reassuring squeeze, and you look up at her as well.

"Are you both ok? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" You ask quickly, pulling away and scanning the two of them, running your eyes over their body and looking at their faces to see if they wince in pain anywhere. You feel lighter as you see them shake their heads, and you grab their hands and pull them inside. Inside their home, where they belong with you.

"I saw it all happen, o-on the news… I wish I could have been there t-to help you somehow. I just f-feel like I sh-should hav-have done something." You cry, sitting down on the kitchen chair you pull from the table.

"Baby, please don't feel that way. You didn't have to do a thing. We made a sacrifice so that you would be safe. So don't you dare take the blame for any of this, do you understand?" Wanda says, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands. Her thumb rubs tender circles on the backs of your hands.

You nod in understanding and look down at your hands in sadness. "I just missed you both so much. I thought you were never coming home."

Your small voice breaks their hearts, and Wanda cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Gratefully and happily, you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck to bring her closer to you. Natasha kneels next to Wanda, and after pulling away from Wanda, you lean over to the redhead, kissing her lips with just as much passion. "My god, I missed you both so much. I was going insane without you two here."

They both smile from below you, and each takes your hand in theirs. "We've missed our baby, and I think we all need a bit of relief from our time away…." Natasha smirks at you and Wanda, and in sync, you both nod. Understanding what she is saying in an instant.

They pulled you to the bedroom, their eyes never leaving yours. They tenderly laid you down on the bed, placing your head gently on a pillow. Both pairs of hands explore your body as if it is a newfound land that no one has laid eyes on before. Your shirt comes off, and you are left bare for them. They both pause as they look at you from above.

Wanda speaks first, "Did you get this while we were gone, baby?" Her soft fingers trace the fine line of a tattoo in the valley of your breasts. The lines connect to make three naked women intertwined together, all holding each other tightly. A heart at the crown of each woman's head and you right in the middle.

"It's beautiful, honey. Gorgeous." Natasha says, leaning down to kiss along the ink lining your skin. "I've missed this body, your scent, just everything about you милая (honey)." She talks, her lips kissing down your belly to the waistband of your silk shorts.

Wanda sits at your side, smiling as she kisses your lips, holding onto your hand as she moves down your neck to your chest as well. She takes one of your perked nipples into her mouth, smiling as a moan escapes your throat. You haven't been intimate in so long, and it felt so good to feel this close to your lover again. "O-oh.." You let out a small gasp as Natasha gently pull your shorts down your legs, a hum coming from above you as Nat looks hungrily at your soaking wet pussy.

"So wet, baby. Is this all for us?" Nat asks, softly raking her fingers over your inner thighs, coaxing your legs open even more. You nod in response, your cheeks heating up at how exposed you are. "I need a taste…." She whispers, and Wanda nods at her.

Natasha lays on her belly, spreading your petals wide open. Slick strings from her fingers as she prods at your hole, and you moan softly. She licks a long stripe from the bottom of your cunt and circles around your clit, making you squeeze Wanda's hand tighter.

Her mouth feels so fucking good on your pussy, and you arch your back, pushing your breast further into Wandas' mouth. She rubs your other hardened nipple in her fingers; like a bud of clay, she's rolling into a perfect ball, and pleasure courses through your body. Your wiggling body makes it hard for Natasha to focus, and Wanda takes note of this, so she moves to straddle your lap, keeping your lower body still.

Your eyes close as both women dominate you, Wanda pleasuring your breasts as Natasha eats you out like she's never before. You grasp the sheets in your hands, your orgasm coming closer and closer until it hits you. As you cum with a shout, Natasha enters two fingers inside of your clenching cunt, smirking as you squeeze her fingers extra tight from not cumming in so long. "So delicious, милая (honey), so fucking good." She whispers from in between your legs, your juices covering her lips.

"Have a taste, my love," Nat says, sitting up and removing her fingers from your pussy, moving them up to Wandas' lips. She closes her mouth around Nats' fingers and moans softly.

"Mmmm, baby, you taste like strawberries and cream…" Wanda says, smiling down at your fucked out face. A thin sheet of sweat covers your forehead, and you return a smile.

"J-just for you, Mommy…" you whisper, your breath coming in small pants. Nat chuckles lightly and crawls to your side. "And you too, m-mommy…." you add, making sure Nat feels just as much love.

"Oh, baby, did you think we were done? No, no, no, we have so much to catch up on." Wanda smiles and kisses your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. While she is devouring your lips, Natasha makes her way to the closet. She reaches for the box marked "toys" and smiles at your messy handwriting. As she opens the box, she takes out your favorite [enter favorite color and desired size] strap, a powerful vibrating wand, and her favorite toy to torture you with; the ruby-like jeweled butt plug that fits your ass like a glove.

She turns around with the supplies in her hands, and to no one's surprise, you had managed to get Wanda down to her bra and panties. Her jumpsuit was discarded on the floor by the bed. With her lips glued to yours, Wanda takes your hands and pins them above your head, wanting all of you under her control. You smile as your noses nudge against each other as she pulls away for a second. You look up at her, and your eyes flick from hers to her lips. "You always take my breath away." Nat smiles at your moment with her and sets the supplies at the end of the bed.

"Alright, it's time for the real fun," Nat says, smiling as she removes her shirt and jeans. You sit up with Wanda sitting next to you, but you are quickly stopped in your tracks as Nat gives you a look that immediately pushes you into submission. As you lay back down, Wanda runs her fingers through your hair, and Nat climbs between your legs once again.

You watch in anticipation as Nat buckles the harness to her hips, the false cock bobbing in front of her. She rubs her hand over your pussy lips again and gently enters your hole with her finger. Stretching you out to make sure that her cock fits perfectly inside of you. As Wanda sits above you, she continues to brush through your hair with her fingers, something she does as a gesture of love while Natasha takes charge of both of you.

Nat smiles and seductively holds up the bejeweled butt plug, and you whimper softly, knowing how much you love it yet loathes it at the same time. Natasha would completely understand if you said no to something and would respect it. But this time, you would allow her to do anything to you.

She gently holds your legs open and puts your ass on her lap, your legs up by her shoulders. She opens the small bottle of lube and puts a small amount on the metal plug as well as your puckering hole. You jump at the slight coolness of the liquid but relax as her warm fingers rub it in, pushing her finger into your ass with ease. You groan softly, turning your head and hiding your face in Wandas' leg.

She smiles at your shyness and tickles your arm to soothe you as Nat works your ass open for her.

"Come on, baby, loosen up for me; you used to take me like a champ," Nat says, pushing her fingers in a little deeper. You moan in response, feeling like you haven't been stretched out like this in ages. Well, you haven't, but it still felt like the first time all over again. "I know you can do it, honey, come on, let me in…" she whispers, gently moving her other hand to the top of your cunt, rubbing small circles on your sensitive button to help you relax.

With a whimper coming from your lips, you relax your lower body in hopes of assisting Nat. With luck, she pushes her fingers to her knuckles and smirks. "Good girl, that's our good girl," She coos and smiles as she pushes her fingers in and out of your tight back hole. "She's so good, isn't she, Wands?"

Wanda hums in agreement, her fingers teasing your nipples once again. "So so good, the best girl." She smiles down at you, chuckling softly as your face contorts into a face of pleasure. You bite your lip and whine at the sudden empty feeling of Nats' fingers leaving you. But you are quickly full again when Nat pushes the plug into your ass, the jewel nestling right between your ass cheeks.

Nat smiles at her work and rubs your skin softly. "It fits perfectly… red suits you милая (honey). My god, you are so beautiful." She looks over you adoringly and leans down to press a kiss to your bent knee. As she kisses closer to your cunt, Wanda slowly straddles your chest and looks down at you with a smirk. "Do you wanna taste baby?" You nod eagerly, and you link your arms around her legs to pull her closer to your mouth.

Her pussy drips right over your mouth, and you can hardly contain your excitement. You pull her down to your and suck hard on her clit, making her moan and grip the bed frame in front of her. She arches her back, grinding down on your mouth with pleasure filling her veins. Lust fills her system, and she reaches back to pull on your nipples again, smiling at the vibration of your moans against her clit.

Natasha leans back as she watches you devour Wanda and smiles as she plays with herself in return. She rubs her clit with her fingers, but it just isn't enough, so she reaches for the vibrator that sits next to her. She turns it on and sighs in relief as she presses the bulb to her aching clit. Throwing her head back in pleasure, she watches the two of you through hooded eyelids, smirking as she matches the movements of Wandas' hips, circling the vibrator one way and then the other.

Once you sense Wandas' orgasm starts to form, you smile as her moans fill your ears like music, and you gently push your fingers in to help her with that final push of pleasure. She gasps, as does Natasha at the end of the bed, both women coming to their high at the same time. The two of them moan loudly as they both cum, and Wandas' hips come to a stop as she takes in a deep breath. "Oh, baby, you were hungry, weren't ya?" She chuckles and scoots down, leaning over your chest to kiss your lips, tasting herself on her tongue at the same time.

"Mmm, you taste so good, Wands." You whisper against her lips, and you smile as you take in her soft kisses in return. As Natasha finishes, she hands the vibe to Wanda, who turns around on your belly, so now she is facing Natasha, who has spread your legs wide so they both have unlimited access to your most intimate parts.

Wanda spreads your pussy lips apart and licks small circles on your clit while Natasha pushes the tip of her cock into your hole. Already being stretched out, Nat knows you can take all of her. She places her hands on your thighs and pushes further inside your wet hole, slowly filling you up to the brim. You moan loudly, and you squeeze Wandas' hips as she straddles you.

You hear the click of the vibrator switch, and you jump as you feel the vibrating against your puffy clit. A loud moan escapes your lips, your legs shaking in response as Wanda circles the vibe in all the right ways. Natasha moves her hips in a smooth rhythm, pulling endless pleasure from your cunt with each thrust. With Wandas' skilled hands with the vibrator and Natashas' cock stretching you out perfectly, you are in a state of euphoria for the first time in a long, long time.

Your first orgasm hits you like a semi-truck, and you see white. Your pussy walls clench around Natasha's cock like a vice, and your clit pulses against the vibrating head held in Wandas' soft hands. And they are far from done, you know that; Wanda knows that, as does Natasha. They continue to push you to your limits, torturing your cunt in the most loving way possible.

Your second orgasm hits just minutes later, and your juices squirt from your pussy and onto the sheets just under you. You let out a loud moan and squirm underneath Wanda. "One more, baby, one more just for us." She encourages and turns the vibrator up to its highest setting. You whimper in response, your red puffy cunt getting its last bit of pleasure. Natasha thrusts in and out of your pussy faster, and you are pushed to your third and final orgasm.

As you are cumming beneath your two lovers, they share their love with a long and loving kiss. Their tongues fight for dominance in the other's mouth. Finally, with gentle care, they move their focus to you. Wanda removes the vibe from your quivering clit, and Natasha slowly removes her cock from your soaking wet hole and gently pulls the plug from your ass. She teases you by pulling it out just a little bit, then pushing it back into its spot again. But finally, she pulls it out and leaves your ass a gaping hole.

Once Wanda moves from your belly, she begins cleaning everything up, the toys, the pillows, blankets, and other things while Nat helps you.

Nat smiles and sighs as she massages the skin of your ass and guides you to calm down. She puts her hand gently on your heaving chest, and you follow her breaths as she silently tells you to copy her. You breathe with her, your senses calming down at the moment until you are fully at peace.

As you lay fucked out, Wanda lifts you into her strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. While Wanda sits you on a towel on the counter, you lay on her chest as Nat fills the tub up with warm, soapy water. Wanda chuckles at your tired look, your slouching body, and your droopy eyes. "We missed you so much, baby. I couldn't stand another day in that stupid prison without you." She says in a soft voice as she wipes your face with a warm washcloth.

You lean into her gentle touches and hum lightly in response, too tired to form complete sentences. Nat chuckles and lifts you into the tub with her, Wanda getting in on the other end and the two women caging you between their entangled legs. "It is so good to be home… to be home with our girl," She says as she holds out her hand for Wanda.

Wanda solemnly agrees and squeezes Nats' hand, and as your head rests against her breasts, she kisses your forehead. "We won't ever leave you again, honey. Never, ever again. We promise." Wanda nods and softly rubs her hand over your leg, soothing you as you hide your face in Nats' chest.

You knew that was a promise your two lovers would keep. It was a promise that would never be broken, despite the challenges that were faced in their everyday lives. They loved you far too much to see you heartbroken, and they swore never to leave you broken again.

Ever.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #WandaNat x reader #wandanat x female reader #Wanda and Natasha #natasha x reader #Wanda x reader #black widow x reader #Scarlet witch x reader #Natasha Romanoff #Wanda Maximoff #wanda x female reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #request #WandaNatasha x reader #nats mommy milkers #wandas mommy milkers #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut

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glamaphonic · 1 month

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i did this for rick so as promised my personal headcanon on the trajectory of michonne's feelings for rick

the most fun thing for me about this is that even though i would say that michonne is generally quite emotionally astute, it actually takes her way waaaaay longer than rick to be able to recognize what's going on between them

rick and michonne are so similar in terms of the things that drive them, that move them, that are most important to them (as gimple said: they have the same soul) and her entire approach to their relationship is basically tied into the fact that she and rick had inverse experiences at the very beginning of the apocalypse. he set out to find his family and did. whereas michonne had her family and lost them.

so she closes it all down, decides to just go away, but she can't really escape who she is, so she helps andrea. and this starts the recurring pattern in michonne's character arc where she repeatedly comes to these decision points where she has to make a choice between giving in to the nothingness or being herself (someone who is loving, compassionate, a protector) and every time she makes the choice to be true to herself, it invariably leads her to rick and their family

so from the moment they meet in s3 she is also viscerally drawn to him the same way he is to her, and like him there is no way she's in a place to even begin to process this. but she sought him out specifically because she was making that choice, to look for connection and community, and she sees who he is pretty much immediately, and so extends him this profound trust over and over again because who he is, what she sees in him, is fundamentally why she wants to be a part of that community.

in 4a, michonne's trauma has her turned every which way. she's already grown attached to rick and to carl and her reaction to this is to keep one foot out the door; to not be fully present for the community. to try to keep her distance even though while she's away she's still obviously thinking about her grimes boys all the time, i.e. bringing them back gifts, etc. and then the prison falls and it seems to justify her caution.

in 4b, she comes to one of those decision points and when she chooses to seek connection and community, it returns her to rick and carl. in my other post i note that this is where rick claims her as a grimes, but this is also where michonne fully commits. she claims them too. she accepts that they are hers. and of course we all know, and danai has even pointed out, the exact moment michonne fully falls in love with rick, when it clicks somewhere inside of her that it's only ever going to be him. but she's still nowhere near ready to consciously face that.

in 5a and through to 5b, just like rick she's not spending time examining what they've become. it just is. that's her family. they belong to each other.

towards the end of 5b, when rick starts to Realize, michonne doesn't because she instead actively sublimates the fact that she is in love with rick, that she has regained what she lost during the turn, into her general dedication to community. she puts everything into trying to shepherd their community without acknowledging her personal stake. which is what leads us to:

the end of 5b and through 6a during which michonne has to have 3 or 4 different people pretty much say to her face HEY YOU GET THAT YOU’RE MARRIED TO RICK AND RAISING CHILDREN WITH HIM RIGHT? YOU GET THAT BEYOND FOSTERING A COMMUNITY ON A MACRO LEVEL YOU HAVE A WHOLE ASS HUSBAND AND TWO KIDS? YOU GET THAT YOU DESERVE TO EMBRACE THIS THING THAT IS FOR YOU SPECIFICALLY AND LIVE A FULL LIFE?

but that final wall is so hard to get past because that wound is so deep, she has to sit with all of that for a good long while (she's working up to it), and it still takes carl basically openly declaring that she's his mother and rick actually making the move before she finally lets herself see, in that moment, what was already long since there.

and it's just very delicious to me personally that from 4a on rick was hers for the taking, honestly. all she had to do was say the word, but she wasn't ready to take him until that moment on the couch.

#talmbout #richonne #twd

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hyunfilms · 3 months

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blue side of the sky (lmh) | twenty one. (final)

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: not much, really just wrapping everything up mainly for these three, some crying, overwhelming feelings of nostalgia and missing someone, two cute flashback scenes

☁︎ on rotation: magic hour - jhene aiko

—a/n: thank you again for coming along on this journey <33 i appreciate you, and the support always means so, so much to me 🩵 i'll be back with chan's fic soon. 🥰

As the days go by, you find yourself feeling better in your own skin than you were a year ago. Despite the troubles you had endured, you feel like you're finally where you need to be. Things feel settled, time seems to be moving slower, your relationships traversing on calm waters. Because the flower shop had been booming with more customers and clients, Mrs. Pak made you lead florist while she hired another part-timer, Bora, who helped in between her classes. You're mainly at the shop, preparing pre-ordered bouquets and setting some aside for grabs at the store; while the other half of your time is now spent traveling to venues to set up for special events. You've greatly appreciated the bump in responsibilities, enjoying that most of your time is spent doing what you love. During nights or weekends that you are free, you occasionally head to the pottery studio to continue creating pieces to add to your collection or sell.

As for Minho, the time felt like it did you well. But in a sense where you were able to say your peace to the past, where you were able to process the highs and the lows in that chapter with Minho. Though things changed the trajectory of everything, Minho has never left your side. He continued to create enough distance until you were ready to bring him closer, always ready to support you in any way that he could. But, there was never any pressure to be more, to be less. Minho let you be and that's because he loved you;

And he loved you enough to let you go.

Loved you enough to let you properly conquer this world without him holding you back.

In the end, you will always love Minho, but you're realizing that loving him as who you are now, as where you are now, as his bestfriend, will always be more than enough. So you let it sit the way it is now, afraid to force something that wasn't meant for the next chapter of your life.

In the end, you will have Minho the way the universe allows you to, and vice versa.

In the end, you'd rather have a part of him than lose him at all.

"Hey." You pick up the call, gathering some last minute items and tossing them into your bag.

"Hey, I'm out front." Minho says on the other line while he shuffles around in his car.

"Okay, I'll be right there."

"Take your time." You purse your lips together before ending the call. You run your chapstick across your lips once more before grabbing your bag and heading out of the door. You walk through the side door seeing Minho relaxing in the driver's seat— scrolling through his phone. Since it's been a good amount of time, your stomach no longer drops when you see him, heart no longer feels like it's beating out of your chest, palms no longer wet and sweaty from anxiety.

And it feels nice.

Refreshing.

Peaceful.

"Hey." He says, turning to you as soon as you swing the door open and settle into the passenger's seat. You give him a tiny smile before buckling in your seatbelt. "All good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Is it too warm?" Minho adjusts the heat slightly.

"No, it's good. It's perfect." He nods, driving off to your childhood neighborhood. "Cafe is okay? Surprised you were able to run off."

"Mhm. Yeah well, JJ's got it, plus we hired another person to help out. It's been pretty smooth lately."

"That's good. Then, you're able to do more for your dance group and the studio, right? Just like you wanted?" He nods.

"Yeah, I am. We're finishing up for our competition next weekend."

"I'm glad you have more time for that now. I'm sure it'll go great."

"How's the shop and Mrs. Pak? Still busy, I'm assuming?" You sigh and let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, it's booming lately. But, Bora's been a lot of help when I can't be around so I'm grateful for her. I was just afraid of Mrs. Pak having to handle a lot on her own again."

"I'm sure she appreciates everything you do for her and the shop." You nod.

"I have to travel next weekend. The client that hired us for the event is about 2 hours away."

"You'll be okay?"

"I'll be okay. I know I can call you guys if anything comes up."

"Okay." He looks at you, content with your answer. And when Minho looks at you, he still sees love, feels love.

He always will.

But, he's also gotten to understand what it truly means to put you first, to put your needs above his own, to be your bestfriend. For a moment, he felt lost when you distanced yourself; no longer by his side like you used to be. He wondered how he could salvage everything and fix the problems overnight to bring you close again. He wondered what he could do differently this time, wondered how he should act, how he should talk, how he could paint himself in a different picture. He felt exhausted from trying to control every single aspect of life, micromanaging every little detail he could.

Then, he realized the answer was in front of him this entire time. He realized how much he was holding you back when you started to smile more, when you started to laugh and move with grace more comfortably; dancing along with the wind, while your eyes held more life than they used to. He realized you needed to shape your own life outside of him, outside of Jisung and your friends, outside of Uncle Adrian.

Create your own version of the greenest grass, the bluest skies, the starriest nights.

This is the unconditional love you needed, even if it was from a distance.

As he continues to drive, he peeks over from time to time, watching as you keep your eyes glued to the surroundings as it passes by. He can't really tell if things are starting to feel familiar, or if you are trying to dig deep within yourself to find that familiar feeling. Overall, you seem to be content, and you don't seem to be regretting your decision of asking Minho to take you here.

When Minho finally drives down a familiar street, he slows his speed a bit; pointing towards certain places while telling you as much as he remembers from his own memory. Although Minho wasn't a part of your life during this point of your childhood, you and Jisung used to take him to this neighborhood pretty often— bringing you to the convenience store you always hung out at, the grocery store your families frequented, the park that had the monkey bars you and Jisung used to fight over. Even though he wasn't there, he felt included. Always.

"You guys took me here quite a few times." Minho points at the convenience store. "We'd go in there and spend our spare change because they had $1 surprise gifts." Minho chuckles a bit. "We'd get a range of things, like random sticker books. Bracelets. Keychains. You even got lucky once and got your favorite pink pencil case out of that." You giggle.

"I still have that sitting on my desk." He nods.

"Yup. We'd spend so much visiting there. They always had our favorite snacks. Sometimes, there would be a hotteok cart nearby. It stopped coming after awhile though." He turns down a road that leads into a residential area. Most of the houses were designed similarly, probably having the same layouts and just enough rooms for families to live comfortably. It's a quiet street, barely any kids playing out front or around on the block. Minho parks his car along the curb, pointing at the park that's a bit of a walk down a path into the middle of the area. "Wanna talk a walk to the park with me?" He looks at you as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

"Sure." He gives you a small smile before heading out of the car, finding his place next to you as you stand and breathe in the crisp fresh air. He digs his hands into his jacket pockets, careful to not walk too quickly. You finally catch wind of a few kids playing around at the park while their parents hang around. Minho chuckles a bit when he hears a child screaming and laughing while their father spins them around on the roundabout; pleading for their dad to go faster.

"Jisungie hated that thing. Even when we'd come here in high school."

"Let me guess, he almost fell off of it."

"Yup." He lets out a breath. "Anyway, you and Jisung grew up at this park. When we came here all together, we'd play around on the monkey bars and wait for the ice cream truck to come. That ice cream truck sold the specific brand of strawberry shortcake ice cream you loved so much. You refused to buy anything else."

"You know, now that you mention it, I haven't had that in awhile." You giggle and kick at the leaves beneath your feet, eyes now darting to the kids chasing each other around the park.

"You loved that ice cream." He walks over to the tree on the opposite side. "We used to play the dumbest games here, like tag. Hopping from bridge to bridge, trying not to step on the ground or else we'd be out." You laugh.

"Everything sounded so fun."

"And chaotic." You watch as he looks at the tree bark, running his fingers across the surface before calling you to his side. "Come look at this."

"Hm?" You hum, walking around to stand next to him. You let out a small gasp seeing your names carved messily onto the bark, the 'o' shape on your mouth slowly forming into a tiny smile. "This was in high school?"

"Yup. We spent a lot of good times here." You look at him. "Ready to walk to your house? It's just down this way." He points towards the ongoing path behind him.

"Mhm." You nod.

The walk is quiet, but it's a comfortable silence that falls between you and Minho. It's quick anyways, especially being that you thoroughly enjoy taking in the fresh air while observing your surroundings. You can hear the birds chirping amongst the trees that line the pathway, the dirt beneath your feet with every step. You follow Minho as he turns down the corner and stops, pointing at a dark brown, ranch-style family home. It's not small, but not the biggest; obvious that the maintenance wasn't a high priority over the years, the paint chipping off in certain areas.

"That's it." You stand and stare, taking in the small, quaint house sitting by itself— a good distance separating it from the next house over.

"Hm." You hum. "It does feel like home." You say, unable to explain the huge wave of nostalgia that suddenly overcame your senses. "I can't put my finger on it, but it certainly feels like home." Minho nods. "I can't believe we were here. This is where I grew up."

"Yeah."

"Wish I could remember it." At this point, an elderly lady comes out— walking onto the small porch with her cane. She notices you two and gently smiles, heading towards the flowers planted along the walkway into the house.

"I don't usually see pretty faces like yours come around. Are you from here?" She asks with a sweet smile, tending to her growing rose bush.

"I, um, grew up in this home when I was really young. I just wanted to come by and see it. I hope you don't mind that we're standing here looking at the house." She chuckles.

"Nonsense. My son bought this house but eventually moved out of the country, then had us move in here."

"That's nice."

"Does it look the same as you remember it?" Minho looks at you, but before he could intervene, you respond simply with a :

"I think so. Feels like it."

"I'm glad." She looks at her door then back at you two. "Do you, maybe, wanna come in?" You shake your head, afraid of it being too overwhelming, too much. Especially for someone like you, who is still learning life and the world.

"Oh, no. Thank you, though. We're going to leave soon. Seeing it from here is enough."

"You sure?" Minho asks quietly. You look at him and nod.

"Okay, sweetheart. If you ever change your mind, please knock. My husband and I are just around in the house."

"Thank you." You give her a small, curt bow before turning to Minho. "Let's go."

"Okay." Is all he says before following you down the path, creating enough distance between you and the house before chiming in again. "You sure you don’t wanna go in, Y/N?"

"Mhm. I'm just afraid it'll be too overwhelming for me, and I won't even know why. I'll have nothing to compare the feeling to.” You pause. “I promise. I'm okay seeing it that way. I think—" You sigh. "I think that feeling of seeing it and having it feel like home is enough. I don't want anything else to take over that."

"Okay." He pops his arm out for you to take and hold onto it. "That sounds good to me. We can make our way to the cemetery at a good time."

"Thanks, Minho."

"Course." The two of you continue to the car, laughing and smiling at the kids that are still playing in the park. You plop into the passenger's seat and buckle your seatbelt, rubbing your hands together to get rid of the morning cold. Minho checks on the flowers in the backseat, making sure they're still sitting prettily before hopping into the driver's seat.

"Good?" You nod. "Ready to go see your mom?"

"I am."

"Mmkay." Is all Minho responds with before pulling away from the curb. The cemetery is close to an hour drive in the opposite direction, and Minho makes sure you're comfortable for the ride over. He keeps it rather lowkey, playing soft music in the background while keeping the heat on. He doesn't really try to make small conversation not only because he's not much of a person for it, but because he can also tell your mind is already occupied. He does ask you from time to time if you're hungry and if you'd like to eat first, but you respond with a soft 'no;' reassuring him that all is well through a smile before leaning your head against the window.

Uncle Adrian was caught up at work, but he lets you know he'll meet you at the cemetery as soon as he's able to slip away and pack it up for the day, telling you to take your time and sit with her for as long as you'd like. You aren't really sure what you're gonna do when you get there though, to be honest. You're not even sure how long you plan to stick around. But, thankfully, Minho doesn't mind. He knows you need this right now, and he'll do whatever he can to help ease this.

To ease the transition in closing this chapter, in moving forward.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

Minho is woken up in the middle of the night when he hears you giving off small whimpers. You're still snuggled against him, enveloped in his arms; though, he feels you twitch every now and then. He looks down at you, brushing the hair away from your face when he realizes you're still asleep and probably having a bad dream.

"Y/N." He says softly with a gentle shake at the shoulder. "Baby." He says a bit louder when you don't budge. He's a little bit rougher with his shake, finally getting you to slowly pry an eye open before the other follows suit.

"Hm?" You sleepily ask, rubbing at your face.

"You were having a bad dream."

"No."

"No?"

"My mom visited me in my dream. I was crying for her."

"I'm sorry, love."

"Nothing to be sorry about."

"Do you remember if she said anything to you?" You nod and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly as you recall the best parts of your dream. Although it was a happy, beautiful dream, you found yourself tearing up at the thought of how angelic and peaceful your mom looked. At least, you could confirm that she was okay and that she was happy— wherever she was at.

"Mhm. She said she missed me, and that she was really happy to see me. She said she thinks about me all the time and that she's always by my side no matter what." You sniffle. Minho lifts your chin with his finger, wiping away at the tears that manage to slip down your bottom lid and down your cheeks.

"I'm glad she visited you."

"I am, too." You begin to cry a bit harder as reality hits you, the thought of not actually being able to physically hug your mom feeling incredibly painful tonight. "I miss her so much, Min. I wish I could hug her."

"I know you do, baby. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just got scared. I wish I could do more to help."

"No, it's okay. Just really miss her. But I'm glad she seems to be happy."

"And I'm sure she's very happy because she can see you doing well and being so strong."

"I hope so."

"I know so." Minho gives off a tiny chuckle before pulling you close and hugging you tightly. "Let's get back to sleep, yeah? We've got a couple of more hours before we need to be up."

"Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." You whisper against his chest, shutting your eyes in hopes of finding sleep again.

☁︎ END

It's a bit past lunch time when you arrive at the cemetery, and you still don't feel hungry. You do feel nervous for whatever reason, somewhat anxious, even. Minho parks in a free space, shutting off the car while letting out a breath.

"You okay?" He looks at you while you stare out of the window. All you can do is look at him and nod once more before unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car. You grab the bouquet of flowers from the back seat, hoping to rearrange them at her grave. Minho takes lead down the grassy field, stopping a few feet away from the car. He stands above a grave, looking down at the flat headstone before laying down a blanket and turning to you. You slowly approach him, letting him throw an arm around you and give it a soft squeeze.

"It's her." Is all he hears you say before you kneel to the ground and place the flowers down. It takes a moment before you register what's happening, before you realize that you're finally meeting her after all this time.

Again.

You take another moment just to observe, to sit and be still. Then, you look at her picture, and you just cry. You cry, and cry. Because you miss her, because all you feel is overwhelming love for her.

You shakily run your finger down the picture, her smile so beautiful, so calming.

So peaceful.

You wish you could hug her tightly.

"I wish I could hug her." You say softly, and Minho can't help but gently rub your back to help ease your crying. Though, it's nice to know that you aren't alone, and you know you never will be. You do believe that your mom has been here with you, never leaving your side— especially throughout everything that's happened.

"We can stay here for as long as you need to." Minho adds. You quietly begin to arrange her flowers, Minho sitting back after he's added the bowl of oranges to the headstone. He watches as you delicately fix each stem, each flower, helping them stand tall and long.

"Do they look okay?"

"They're beautiful." You give him a small smile.

"Mrs. Pak just got these in a couple of days ago. The baby blue Baby's Breath? They're so pretty."

"They are."

"I hope she likes them."

"I'm sure she does." You sit back contently, hands falling to your lap.

"Minho, I really wish I could remember the moments I've had with her. I think that's been the most upsetting part about everything. Not remembering the times I've had with my mom. Cause I can't get those back, and I can't necessarily make new ones with her."

"I'm sorry, I know. But, I know Uncle Adrian would be more than happy to walk down memory lane with you whenever you're ready. And I know she'd be happy to see you making new ones with him. She's with you everywhere you go, and she's in everything you do. You know that, right?"

"Mm, yeah. I just.. I don't know. I wish I could have a pass to go back in time to talk to her, or see her in my dreams." You sigh. "At least I can talk to her here, though. I hope she hears me."

"She does." Minho responds softly, watching as you stare at your mom's photo. He doesn't interrupt, gives you a moment to let your thoughts be.

To let you hold space. For you, for your mom.

And it's like this for awhile. Minho doesn't mind, especially since the weather has cleared up a bit and gotten warmer.

"Yo!" Jisung suddenly comes up the path, hands dug deep into his jacket. "Sorry I'm a bit late, I got caught up with some work stuff even though I told them I was taking off early today." He lets out a sigh as he sits next to you on the blanket. "You guys okay?"

"Mm yeah. I think so." You murmur.

"You sure, cielo?"

"Mhm. I just miss her, is all." Jisung pulls you into a hug and rubs at your arm while looking down at her headstone.

"Whenever we went on trips, your mom would always buy me bags of my favorite gummies. She'd always take us to get ice cream, or to the local convenience store to buy whatever snacks we wanted. Sometimes, she'd sit outside with us just to get some air and people watch." Jisung chuckles. "Your mom was really like my second mom. She was the nicest person. Always smiling. Kinda like you, I guess?" You laugh.

"Wow, you guess?" He shrugs.

"Twins, for real." Jisung continues to tell you stories about the trips your families have taken together— how she would never let you two be unhappy, always willing to take you two to the places you wanted to visit even if everyone else was tired. She'd patiently wait for you two to finish playing, swimming, whatever it was— as long as you two were happy.

Then, the three of you find yourselves sitting quietly in front of her grave, looking out at the hills beyond it. The sky is bright and blue with no clouds in sight, weather warm with a very gentle breeze. The trees around you are full, showing off their healthy green leaves.

You sit, you breathe, you feel.

You turn to Jisung who is quietly dusting off your mom's grave, picking at the old, tiny, brown leaves that have accumulated in the corner. A small smile grows at your lips when you notice how focused he is on the small, tiny details; finger tracing the edges of the flat headstone. Then, you turn to Minho, who quietly sits by your side, looking out at the distant city view ahead. He suddenly meets your gaze, a smile growing at the corners of his lips. He pulls you into his arm, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

No words being exchanged, no words needed to be said.

Nothing.

You've come to know what the blue side of the sky truly means, what it truly feels like. Because there is so much pain, anguish, hurt in this world, so many grey skies and loud, aggressive storms.

But not in this moment.

In this moment, there is only happiness, comfort, peace. Blue skies and warmth.

In this moment, there is only love.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | EARLY CHILDHOOD

"Y/N." Your mom says as she holds your hand as you attempt to walk in a straight line on the curb. You giggle when you almost lose balance, your grip around her fingers tightening as you regain it. "Y/N love, are you listening to mommy?"

"I am, I am." You giggle and look up at her, flashing her that million-watt smile she adores.

"Okay, good. I just want you to listen to me for a second."

"Okay, mommy."

"You know, the world isn't a scary place, but it isn't perfect either, love." You continue to walk silently along the curb, listening to your mom. "You know mommy is always doing her best to raise you well, right?"

"Mhm, mhm!"

"I don't want you to grow up fearing new places, new adventures, new people. But, I also want you to protect yourself and save yourself for those that really deserve you. Every bit of you. Okay? I'm trying my hardest to raise you to be brave and strong, and I know you will be. But sometimes, you can't be. And that's okay. That's why it's so important to have good people around you. Good friends. People that care about you and love you no matter what. Always surround yourself with love."

"I have friends." You smile at her and she smiles back. "Like Jisungie."

"I know. And Jisungie is a perfect example of a good friend who will never leave your side. But sometimes, Jisungie might not always be there. What are you going to do?"

"Be strong! Because I am strong!" She laughs when you raise your arms to show off your muscles.

"Right, be strong. You're my brave girl. You will always be my brave and strong girl. Life may not always be that kind to you, but I know you'll be able to overcome anything. You deserve the very best, always. Never let yourself believe otherwise."

"Is it because I'm like you, mommy?"

"Yes." She giggles. "Yes it is. You're just like me." She scoops you into her arms before planting a kiss on your cheek and pointing upwards. "You know, if you ever have bad days, or if you ever need a reminder. Just look up at the blue sky." She pauses and taps the tip of your nose. "Because no matter what, that blue sky will always come back after the rain. It'll never let those grey skies completely take over no matter how hard the rain comes down. It will always come back and be there for you."

☁︎ END

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peachhcs · 1 year

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The 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he said it.

Neteyam x fem!reader

Word count: 15.6k 😳

Summary: pretty self explanatory I think, but the 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he finally said it 😌

Warnings: near character death, talk of absent parents, gun & knife violence, blood

ITS FINALLY HERE!! THE LONG AWAITED 15k+ fic I took like a week to write 😭 This is cliche but I haven’t seen anyone else do this prompt before. I listened to the people and put this into one large fic, so I hope y’all like it!! The ending is..a little rocky, but it’s what you get after forcing myself to finish this. There is a prologue in this & I wasn’t originally going to include it, but I liked it too much to delete it from the story LOL

If you guys want a Lo’ak version, I have one in the drafts, but idk if that is something y’all want. My requests for fic ideas are open, so send some in if y’all want! Thanks for all the love!! (ps, not quite proof read so if there’s some spelling or grammatical errors my apologies)

MASTERLIST

PROLOGUE.

It was no doubt that you were an extreme pleaser. Growing up as the eldest sibling to your parent’s five, it was your job to stay in line. Set the example. Follow the rules. Be the golden child. It was the whole reason why you and Neteyam bonded so quickly when you met.

He knew how it felt to be the perfect one. You both carried the same burden, the same pressure, the same expectations set by your parents. All you wanted was to please them and get the praise you desperately craved.

You saw Neteyam for a few weeks now. It started one day in the woods when you were out exploring. Foana and Ni`awtu insisted going out into the forest. You knew being the eldest that you couldn’t possibly leave them to their own devices, so you reluctantly followed after them.

That same afternoon, the Sully kids decided embarking on their own expedition. The clan was so large and spread out in nearly every part of the forest that you hardly knew every single person. You knew of the Sully children and their great father Jake, the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, however you did not know them.

Everything changed for you and your siblings that afternoon when Foana wandered off. You had no idea that a certain Sully boy would change the entire trajectory of your life that day.

You were distracted with admiring the beautiful flora that you didn’t even realize your younger sister disappeared. A tiny tug on your tail made you spin around, hissing at Ni`awtu standing shyly behind you.

“Ni, what do you want?” You answered annoyed that she interrupted your gazing. Seeing her little worried features made you scrap any annoyance you ever possessed in the first place.

“It is Foana. I do not know where she went.” The fear laced through the young girl’s voice. Your eyes shot up, now realizing that the youngest sibling was no longer around the two of you.

To make matters even worse, you only brought your knife with you expecting a quick and short trip.

“Ni`awtu, you were supposed to be watching her at all times. Argh.” You pushed past her, beginning to sniff out any possible trails Foana may wandered off on.

“I am sorry, sister. I swear, I thought she was right behind me.” The familiar wobble of Ni’s voice and her trembling hands told you she was close to tears. Sighing, you collected her into your arms.

“Do not worry, it is not your fault. We will find her.” Being the eldest meant you could not be mad at your little siblings for long. You also could not let them take the blame for things—even if it was their fault at times. That was just what came with growing up as the eldest. You took nearly all the blame.

The two of you walked the tree lines, scanning every possible inch for that little rascal. She hardly knew the forest like you, so she couldn’t have been too far. If anything, she was probably cowering underneath a leaf or behind a tree because she did not know where she was anymore.

Your ears perked up when you heard voices ahead. In a quick maneuver, you shoved your sister behind you incase it was a threat. Not many from your clan ventured this far out into the forest by the old shack. It was forbidden by the Olo’eyktan—so whoever was ahead couldn’t possibly be Na’vi.

There was a tiny laugh, though. It caught you off guard and your defenses fell for just a moment. There came another laugh, louder and one you recognized this time.

“Foana.” You muttered and ran ahead through the brush.

When you came through clearing, you grew surprised seeing your little sister playing around with another younger Na’vi girl.

“Y/N, look! I made a friend!” Little Foana sensed your presence and motioned towards the other little girl. She smiled up at you with a toothy grin.

“Foana, what in Eywa are you doing all the way out here? You do not wander away from me or your sister.” Your mom voice came out, loud and booming. The little one looked down in shame realizing she was in trouble.

“I am sorry, sister. I did not mean to. I just..I saw a flying lizard and had to follow it. I found her on the way.” She stuck out a thumb at other girl. Another sigh escaped your lips knowing she must’ve also strayed off her path and probably had people looking for her as well.

“Tuk! There you are! Why did you wander off?” A new voice entered the scene. She raced past you, scooping up the girl in her arms.

“Sorry, Kiri. I found a friend, though.” Tuk pointed at your sister who gave a similar toothy grin and a wave.

“It is okay, sister. Just make sure you tell someone next time, okay? Neteyam, I found her, it is okay.” You didn’t realized there was entire group behind you now. Two boys, no three boys, stood behind you. Two Na’vi and the singular human boy you knew lived around here.

“Tuk, I told you to keep up with us.” The shorter Na’vi boy went past you to ruffle up her little braids.

You hadn’t moved a single muscle since their sudden arrival. You were too awestruck in the way they comforted the girl. Neither of them showed any signs of anger or annoyance that she wandered off. It was so unfamiliar to you—all of that sincerity and comfort to one another.

“Oh, please excuse us. I am so sorry. I am Kiri. This is Tuk, Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Spider behind you.” The girl that came in first finally acknowledged your presence with a warm smile as she introduced what must’ve been her siblings.

“Oh, no need for apologies. I am Y/N. This is Ni`awtu and Foana.” You did a bow of greeting which your sisters quickly followed after.

“It seems as though our sisters have befriended one another. We were so worried when we realized she had wandered off.” Kiri laughed and pinched Tuk’s little nose. You smiled at the affection.

“Yes, us too. I was glad I found them both unharmed.” You pulled your sisters closer, trying to show a tiny bit of affection like the other siblings displayed.

“Let’s just be glad we didn’t need to call dad in. He would have beaten our asses if we told him we lost Tuk.” Lo’ak laughed and then his older brother smacked him on the head. The unfamiliar terms and use of some English words intrigued you. Not many Na’vi knew English besides the Olo’eyktan—obviously being from the sky.

You began putting two and two together. The five fingers of Lo’ak and Kiri. Lo’ak’s use of English phrases you didn’t quite understand. These were the Sully children. The Olo’eyktan’s kids.

“Oh my Eywa, I am sorry. You are children of the Olo’eyktan. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You rushed out, flushed you had not picked up on it beforehand. You bowed again, urging your sisters to do the same.

“Woah, we’ve never been greeted like that before.” Lo’ak snickered and the older boy hit his head again.

“Lo’ak, stop it. Do not apologize. We are Omatikaya as much as you are. It is really our father who gets bowed to.” The older one spoke to you in a kind tone that had your face heating up in a way it had never done before.

“Well, it is still a great pleasure to meet all of you.” He grinned at you. There was something igniting inside of you just looking at his smile. Something you had never felt before.

“Can Foana and I have a playdate sometime?” Tuk spoke to you, her little voice adorable as ever. However, you were unfamiliar with the term she used.

“Playdate means like a hang out.” Kiri must’ve seen your confusion. You quickly nodded.

“Of course, anytime as long as neither of you wander off again.” You joked some, smiling down at your little sister. She grinned excitedly.

“Perfect, you may bring her over anytime or we can bring Tuk over. She has been so excited to start making new friends ever since our parents allowed her to go out more.” Kiri was so soft spoken and so gentle. Her presence alone just made you feel so warm and welcomed.

“You could bring your other siblings, too. You have two others, right?” Lo’ak spoke up more. You quickly nodded, a bit surprised he even knew that. It wasn’t like your family was well known like they were.

“Tsanten and Naria.” You did not miss the way Lo’ak’s face blushed at the mention of Naria.

“Well, bring them all and even yourself, we love the company.” Kiri beamed and you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

You hardly received invitations out often. You were always busy taking care of your siblings, cleaning up, staying in, following your parents’ orders. It didn’t leave much room for fun and going out.

Neteyam was still glancing in your direction. He just couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from your pretty hair flowing loosely down your back, or the way your eyes lit up when Kiri extended the invitation to you and the rest of your siblings.

He knew of your family through passing here and there. You were the eldest, just like him, yet he never saw you out much. Either you were hidden away in your tent, or out hunting. He knew you were a hunter because Beyral spoke of your name often.

You intrigued him. He liked the way the confusion floated over your face when Lo’ak or Tuk used phrases you didn’t understand. He liked the protective nature you held over every single one of your siblings—similar to him. How you held them close to you. He wanted to know more about you. He wanted to make you smile again because it sent an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in his stomach that he enjoyed.

He wanted more of you. If only the two of you knew what your future held.

ONE.

Neteyam was protective over everything in his life—his parents, his siblings, and now you. Being the eldest, especially to the Olo’eyktan, it was his job becoming the protector when his father wasn’t there.

He fought off anyone who poked fun at Lo’ak or Kiri for having five fingers. He made sure someone was with Tuk at all times when she went out to the forest. He helped his mother anytime she asked whether it was with food or his siblings.

There was no denying how similar the two of you were. It was what drew him to you. You held the same protective nature as him. You took care of your siblings the same way he did. You understood the burdens he carried because you held them high on your shoulders as well.

It was when the two of you were together that he could let go of everything, even if it was just for a little bit. When the day was done and everyone was sound asleep for the night, tucked safely into their tents was when the two of you snuck out to spend time together.

It was more of a private relationship for the time being. Being the next Olo’eyktan in line, Neteyam knew that if he told people he was seeing someone it would spread like wildfire across the village. People would start talking and they probably wouldn’t ever leave you alone once the word was out. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that on top of everything else and if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself just a little while longer.

His feet worked quickly jumping from tree branch to tree branch. The luminescent forest was his guiding light through the night and he took one final swing to his destination. When he got his footing, there you were right where you met almost every night.

Your back was slumped against the tree and you hadn’t noticed him yet, instead, your gaze was focused on the glimmering stars above. Every time, Neteyam was so in awe of you. He knew how stressed you were throughout the day having to do this and that, so seeing you here waiting for him in the most relaxed state gave him a sense of pride.

“Oh, hi.” You finally noticed his looming presence. The boy grinned, walking towards you.

“Hi, sorry I am late. I had to make sure Tuk was truly asleep for the night.” The sound of your laugh made his heart swell in his chest. He snuggled himself in beside you with his head resting on your stomach.

When you put your hands across his back, all of his muscles finally relaxed. The stress slowly dissipated and everything felt right being in your arms. During the day, he was a leader who held no fear. At night when he was with you like this, none of that mattered. He didn’t have to put on the facade for you.

“She never falls asleep on time. I think she is afraid she will miss out on something. Foana is the same way.” He hummed when he felt your other hand begin brushing through his braids.

“That explains why she is always following Lo’ak and Kiri around.” Your stomach rumbled with laughter again and the vibrations were so calming to Neteyam. If he could, he would have your laugh on repeat.

“Your training, how did that go today?” Another thing Neteyam adored about you was how you never failed to ask him about his day. Any detail he told you, you remembered and talked about it the next night. He had never been listened to like that before. It made everything inside of him feel warm and appreciated like he had a purpose.

“It was okay. I think dad is getting mad at me because I can not seem to understand things as fast as he wants me to.” Neteyam sat himself up so he could look at you properly. His back fell against the tree in the same way yours did, still keeping your bodies close.

“You will get it, do not worry. It takes time learning all the ways of the Olo’eyktan. Your father probably struggled as much as you did once.” You clutched his bicep to give it a comforting squeeze. Neteyam’s gaze fell away to the sky, though. His mind beginning to turn elsewhere.

“Yes, but he was already strong when he fell into the position. He was an adult already. I am merely a teenager still.” He heard you scoff beside him.

“You are just as strong, Neteyam. Do not tell yourself you are not. You are learning and your father just wants what is best for you.” You always knew what to say to him to make him feel better. His gaze finally fell back to you, your gentle gaze making his face blush.

“I think my parents are catching up to the fact that I may be seeing someone.” You giggled, looking away as you changed subjects. Neteyam, however, stiffened up at your words.

“What do you say?”

“Well, I just laugh it off and say I am not. They do not ask much more after that.” He could not read your expression because you weren’t looking at him. He didn’t know if you were upset you had to deny it or something entirely different.

He certainly wished he didn’t have to be so private about his personal life, but he was afraid his mother wound disapprove—not that there was anything to disapprove of you. It was mostly the others in the clan. People would start talking. They would start seeking you out. You would have to start learning the ways of Tsahik, maybe (Hopefully in his mind). He wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable to be put into such a spotlight like he was before anything was really said about the two of you.

“Neteyam? Are you alright?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts. You were already looking at him when he met your pretty golden eyes.

“Yes, sorry. I was lost in thought.” He gave you a gentle smile to reassure you.

“About what?” You loved to pick his brain though. His expression twisted and he found the need to place his arm around you and pull you closer towards him. Your head fell absently against his chest.

“It is not important.” He had this thing where he would sometimes hide his emotions from you. He did not want to burden you with this one right now.

“I feel like it is, though. I will not make you tell me, but you can if you want to.” Another feature he absolutely adored about you. You never pried, but made it known that he could tell you anything. He squeezed you a tiny bit closer as if there was anymore space left between you two.

“Are-are you..upset that our relationship is not..for the entire clan to know?” He blurted and then avoided your gaze so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“No, not necessarily. I like the privacy.” You answered honestly, but Neteyam wasn’t sure if he believed it yet or not.

“Are you lying?” You sat up more to look at him. He was gnawing at his lip, worried that you were lying.

If he could give you the world, he would. He wanted to give you everything. He wanted to show you off and take you on dates that weren’t in the dark. He wanted to hold your hand and kiss you in front of people so they knew you were his. However, he could not do any of that in fear that someone would be mean to you or say rude things. The entire clan was kind, but there were few who said things when they did not approve. Neteyam only knew because he heard the things people said about his father when he became Olo’eyktan.

He is demon blood. How would he know how to lead a clan?

Can we really trust him with our people?

What does she see in him?

Those children, they are demon blood. Five fingers.

They are not true Na’vi.

He could only imagine the things they could say when he announced his possible chosen woman. He wanted to keep you out of that. He wanted to protect you from it as much as he could.

“No, I am not lying. Why would I lie?” You gave a small chuckle; however, Neteyam was still not eased.

“Right, sorry. You would not lie about that.” He looked down, embarrassed he even thought you would lie to him. A gentle hand cupped his face and directed his attention back to you.

“What is going on in that head of yours? Tell me, it seems to be bothering you.” You observed his entire face and Neteyam was flushing under your intense stare.

He took your hands in his, squeezing gently and blowing out a long breath.

“I want to give you the world, but I can not. I only do not tell people about our relationship because I am afraid they will say things we do not like. I do not want them to hurt you and say things like they do about my father and mother. That is the only reason I have kept us from them. Not because I am embarrassed or anything of you.” Neteyam spilled his entire heart to you right then and there. He watched your face for a reaction and subconsciously prepared for a negative one.

Instead, you just grinned and stroked his hand with your thumb.

“I did not think you were embarrassed of me. I know you have a lot on your mind all the time. You do not need to explain yourself to me. I do not mind keeping our relationship private.” Your head tilted to the side, still grinning.

“I just want to make sure you are completely ready to have every eye on our relationship when and if we tell people. It is a lot of pressure and people will be talking. I do not want to just push you into that if you are not ready.” Neteyam continued.

“I am ready whenever you are ready. You worry too much about me.” You laughed and Neteyam’s head fell against your chest. You cradled the back of his head with a smile.

“So you are sure you are ready to handle it? You can tell me no.” He looked back up at you, scanning your face for any possible secret resentment you weren’t telling him.

“You forget I have thick skin. I grew up with parents who were perfecting my every move. If I can take them, I think I can handle being your girlfriend in public.”

It was then that Neteyam knew you were it for him. You held no fear in your eyes that he seemed to be harboring deep down in his depths. You were ready to be by his side under any circumstance.

He brought your face into his hands so he could pull you forward for a kiss. It was everything he could not say and everything he wanted you to know. The night was young and so were you two in that moment.

TWO.

Tonight was a big night as Neteyam ran around the hut like some mad person. He was shoving Tuk’s toys away, cleaning every single space, forcing his family to be on their best behavior—especially Lo’ak.

You were joining his family for dinner so they could properly meet you. Despite all of his siblings already knowing you, it was his parents who did not have much knowledge about you. It was mostly just name in passing, but one they never asked much about.

When Neteyam told his parents he was even seeing someone in the first place, their reactions were pretty priceless.

“Hey, mom, dad?” The eldest Sully walked into their hut while his parents worked away at their own separate projects. They turned his way at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, what it is ma son?” Neytiri questioned. The boy was flushed and picking at his fingers, unsure of how to even approach the subject.

It wasn’t that his parents were against him dating around, but he had never shown much interest beforehand, so he wasn’t sure how they were going to react now.

“I..I um-well, you see, I met this girl a few weeks ago. She is very kind, strong, intelligent, a hunter. I-I would like you to meet her one night over a dinner, maybe?” He carefully watched for their reactions.

His mother, wide-eyed, looked over at her husband. They exchanged a few glances, probably speaking with their eyes, but Neteyam had no idea what they were silently saying. He worried it was bad things.

“Oh! Yes, yes, of course. We would love to meet this girl. Who is she? Is she Omatikaya? Does she live around here?” His mother stood, embracing him while asking the hundred questions she had. His father sat back with a tiny, proud smile on his lips.

“Her name is Y/n. She is just a few huts down. She is a great hunter and warrior. Beyral speaks of her sometimes.” Neteyam explained your background as best as he could. Both of his parents were beaming widely.

“Yes, I have heard that name a few times before. She sounds wonderful, I am so excited to meet her. I had no idea you were seeing someone.” Neytiri was the most enthusiastic for her eldest. He had nearly reached all of his requirements that would make him one of the People and it was only a matter of time before he would begin looking for a future mate.

Tuk went on all day about her excitement that you would be joining them tonight. Neytiri worked all day preparing a great meal with the help of Kiri.

“Bro, I can’t believe you never told us about dating around with Y/n.” Lo’ak snickered as he helped with some of the cleaning. He earned a slap on his head for that comment.

“Well, it was not much of your business, was it?” Neteyam retorted and the younger brother only shrugged.

“I knew you were sneaking out late at night. I could just never have proof.” Another snicker and another slap. Lo’ak finally let up on his annoying teasing.

“Tuk!!” A little scream broke the boys from their conversation. Nearly everyone in the hut looked over to see a little Na’vi girl run in. Tuk was smiling widely, bringing her friend in for a hug.

“Foana! What did I say?—“ Suddenly, you appeared, grabbing at your youngest sister. Neteyam noticed your other three siblings just behind you. You met his eyes before darting them over to his parents who were glancing your way. Your entire face flushed.

“I am so sorry. Foana begged me to bring her to say hello to Tuk and then..well, I could not leave everyone else out.” You quickly explained yourself in small embarrassment. Neteyam rushed to greet you.

“Tsanten, Naria, what’s up?” Lo’ak happily got up to greet your other siblings. Ni`awtu stood shyly behind your back.

“I am so sorry for them.” You whispered to Neteyam when he was close enough. He only grinned.

“Do not apologize.” He kissed your cheek and then stepped aside for his mother who approached.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Y/n. I have heard many things.” Neteyam watched the exchange, still a tiny bit nervous for his parents approval of you. You smiled, nerves also evident behind your eyes.

“It is so nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Sully. I have heard so many things about you.” You bowed your head using the I see you gesture.

“Please, call me Neytiri. It is so nice to meet all of your siblings, as well.” She grinned again at the other little kids talking with her own children.

“Oh, thank you. They will not be staying, they just begged me to bring them to say hello.” You rushed out, eyeing each one of them to make sure they were being well-behaved in the home of the Olo’eyktan.

“Oh please, we have so much food. They can stay.” Your eyes shot to Neteyam. He only gave you a small shrug, ultimately it being your decision. He figured it would be easier to get your siblings’ introductions out of the way now too.

“Oh, no, you do not have to do that.” You shook your head, but Neytiri was persistent.

“It is no trouble. I insist.” She gently touched your arm. Neteyam could tell you were not used to such hospitality. He also touched your arm and you glanced his way. He nodded, saying if his mother thought it was okay, then it was okay for them to stay.

If anything, it would hopefully keep Lo’ak out of trouble or saying things he shouldn’t if he had other people to talk to that he liked. That was Neteyam’s biggest concern of the night, really.

“Okay, thank you, really.” You thanked Neytiri by bowing your head once more. She grinned and then walked away.

Jake came next to greet you. Neteyam knew you were worrying about him more than anything. He was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto after all and it was the most important to get his approval.

“Hello, Y/n. I am glad to finally meet you.” You bowed to him which he did the same back.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Neteyam watched as you urged your siblings to bow before his father as well. They listened to you, doing as told.

You held such power over the little ones, but not in a bad way. Neteyam wondered if they listened to you more than your own parents. You had told him many stories of you becoming the main parent for your siblings growing up. Your parents were very absent. They were always on hunting trips, so it often left you caring for them. The eldest Sully could tell it wore you down—slumped shoulders, tired eyes, callouses on each of your hands, cuts, and bruises.

“Please, please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Our hut is your hut.” Jake ushered all of you in further. You smiled at him, not quite understanding the phrase, but you knew it was a kind one by his tone and expression.

“Y/n! Y/n! Guess what I did this week?” Tuk grabbed at your arm. You smiled down at her and crouched to her eye level.

“What did the mighty Tuk do this week?” Neteyam smiled at the way you ruffled up her hair.

“I caught my very first fish!” The little girl jumped up and down in excitement.

“That is amazing, Tuk! I am so proud of you!” You squeezed her tightly.

“Tell her how big it was.” Neteyam encouraged. His little sister held out her arms wider than herself. Your eyes widened.

“No way. That is bigger than you!” She giggled in excitement.

“I know! Everyone was so excited for me.”

“I certainly hope they were. That is a great accomplishment little Tuk.” You stood and Neteyam beamed at you. He saw your face flush a bit.

“You know she adores you, right?” He reached up to push some of your hair away from your eyes. You were wearing it loose like usual and some of it was pinned back with little petals hooked into it.

You blushed again. Neteyam loved how he could always make you blush like that.

The night went on just the way Neteyam planned. His parents asked you and your siblings many questions which you all happily answered. Just by the smiles and exchanges, Neteyam knew his parents loved you already which relieved him. He was worried something would go wrong. Lo’ak even managed to keep his comments to a minimal and mostly because he didn’t want to look like some fool in front of Naria.

Later, after helping his mom clean up, Neteyam went looking for you. He stopped short when he saw you sitting with Tuk, Foana, and Ni`awtu. You were playing some game with some sticks with them. There was a large smile on your face as you laughed at what Tuk would say. Even your sister, Ni`awtu, was smiling despite how shy she came off as.

Neteyam felt a hand come around his back. His mother appeared next to him, also watching the scene unfold. The sun began to set and eclipse was near. The forest was illuminating around you four. It was the prettiest sight Neteyam had ever seen—you with his little sister playing her games she always made up.

“She is a wonderful woman, Neteyam.” He smiled, glancing his mother’s way for a moment.

“So you like her?”

“We love her. If you do decide one day, she will make a great mate.” A small wave of relief washed through the older boy. He was so glad his parents approved of you.

Now it was just a matter of telling the rest of the clan. He knew most of them would be as supportive as his parents, but there was always the handful that had something to say. Neteyam would do his best to protect you from those who would say things.

Although, for now he would just enjoy the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep the warm feeling bubbling up in his chest for as long as possible. You were utterly perfect in his eyes.

“Neteyam! Come join us!” Tuk had noticed his presence. His mother squeezed his arm before letting him go. You made room for him to join the circle. The two of you exchanged a glance, knowing exactly what the other was saying.

You were definitely a keeper.

THREE.

Neteyam knew you were an excellent fighter. You were the best in the age group every time you went for trainings. He was always so in awe anytime he watched you skillfully use your bow and arrow to hit the targets on the ground from above. Or, your stealth as you dodged in and out of the trees. He knew he could never be as great of a fighter as you were.

However, with that also came the fear he held every time you left to go on missions. This one in particular was an especially dangerous one. His father appointed you to the head and it even shocked Neteyam a bit when he was told to hang back on this one but you were going.

You sat on the ground between his legs as he worked separate little braids into your hair for you. The only time you ever wore braids was for these missions or when you went hunting.

Neteyam did not want you to know he was worrying and playing every single worse case scenario in his head, so he kept quiet as his fingers worked quickly through your hair. However, his leg was bouncing right beside your head and that was hard for you to keep ignoring.

“Neteyam, are you alright?” You placed your hand over his knee. He realized it was bouncing and quickly stopped.

“Yes, I am fine.” You twisted your head around, pausing his braiding for a moment. The look on your face told him you didn’t believe him.

“Liar. What is wrong? Tell me.” You urged and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep being quiet anymore.

“I am just worried is all. It always happens when you leave for missions like these.” He admitted, forcing a smile so you didn’t see all of his worry. You frowned a bit.

“You know you have nothing to worry about. I am a warrior. I always have been. When have I not come back from one of these?” Your tone was more of a “duh” tone. It didn’t ease Neteyam’s fear though.

“You never know what can happen, though.” He quickly make his defense. Instead of meeting your eyes, he just continued to work away at your hair.

“I suppose I do not, but you trust me, right? You trust your father. He would not send me into something dangerous.” Of course, Neteyam trusted both of you. It was the Sky People he had no trust in. He had seen them fight and the way they always had the upper hand with their crazy machine guns.

“Of course, but I am even not going. Is that not saying something?” He made a face and you were unsure what to say.

Neteyam finished off the last of your braids. The ends jingled together with the beads he added in. They were some of his own and he smiled at the fact that you two were going to match.

He turned you around and dipped his fingers into the bowl of paint beside his leg. You stayed still as he traced it around your face. He thought how jealous Lo’ak would be that you got to wear the war paint he didn’t on missions.

The two of you were silent. The feeling in the air changed ever since you didn’t know how to respond to Neteyam’s last statement.

You stood to look at yourself in the mirror when your face was done. The blue and yellow streaks went down your cheeks and around your eyes.

“Here, do not forget these.” Neteyam stood with your riding visor. He gently reached up to hook it around your ears.

You never flew with a riding visor, but then Neteyam made you one because he was worried about the wind drying out your eyes. You had happily accepted his very thoughtful gift and ever since then, you never rode without it.

“I am a warrior. I will make it back.” He felt comfort in the way you squeezed his arm. Your gaze was on him with a reassuring expression.

“I know you will. I just worry about you.” He cupped your face into his hands, bringing you towards him more.

“I have been doing this my whole life. I have my transmitter, too, so you will be able to listen in.” You placed the collar just above your necklaces and then hooked the earpiece into your ear. Neteyam remembered how thrilled you were when Jake gifted it you.

“We’re off in five minutes, everyone. Be ready!” Jake spoke through your ear. You glanced towards the opening where others headed out to their ikrans.

Neteyam brought your forehead against his. He closed his eyes, breathing you in and savoring every single detail about you just in case.

“Good luck. Be safe.” You smiled at his Earth phrases and brushed your hand along his cheek.

“I will see you soon.” He brought you in for one more kiss. His lips worked a bit rough like it was the last kiss he would give you. He was worrying that much.

You were the one to pull away, knowing you had to be out there very soon. He leaned into your touch when you kissed his cheek and then hurried out of his grasp. Neteyam hurried outside of your hut to watch you take off.

His dad took the lead as he dove off the cliff first. You were quick to follow, disappearing from his view almost immediately. Others in the clan who stayed behind clapped for the war party. Neteyam’s worry was only piling higher in his stomach, already anxiously awaiting your return.

—

Hours felt like days in his mind as he paced around his own hut. Tuk was in the corner playing with her toys and Kiri eyed on her older brother as he paced.

“Brother, you need to stop worrying so much. You know she will make it back. Y/n is very strong.” Kiri tried reassuring the anxious boy in front of her.

“I know, I know. This mission was a dangerous one, though. Dad did not even let Lo’ak and I go, yet he had Y/n go?” The logic still didn’t make much sense in Neteyam’s head. He wasn’t trying to discredit your abilities, but if you were going, he should’ve at least came along too.

“You have to remember that Y/n has been a warrior her whole life. Even when she was a kid. She was out hunting when she could walk. This is in her nature. Your father knows that and he knows she is a very useful asset to this mission.” His mother piped in from the other side of the hut. He didn’t even known she was listening to the conversation.

“Yeah, what mom said. She’s been fighting like this her whole life. She knows how to handle herself.” Kiri added on.

“Yeah, plus, she doesn’t always need you at her side and call.” Lo’ak had piped in now and Neteyam glared at him. Since when did his whole family become involved in this conversation.

“I am just trying to protect her.” He said in defense to what his younger brother said. Lo’ak just shrugged.

“Ma son, I know it is scary to not know what is happening, but we need to trust the Great Mother and everyone on that mission. They know what they are doing.” Neytiri squeezed Neteyam’s arm for comfort. The boy sighed, but nodded.

As if on cue, people started shouting outside of their hut. In the distance, ikran calls filled their ears. Neteyam instantly knew what that meant—the war party was returning. Everyone in the hut ran outside to greet them and check for any major injuries if any.

Jake’s ikran landed roughly atop the rocky cliff. You flew in not a moment later. The crowds were thick around the edge and it was hard to truly see what was going on. Being as tall as he was, Neteyam still could not see that well past the others trying to get a closer look.

He did not know where you were. You must have gotten down from your ikran, because it’s back was empty and there was no sign of you. Neteyam tried to push through some of the crowd, but it wasn’t much use because no one wanted to move.

“I heard it was bad. Many people were injured.”

“I can not believe he let that little girl go on such a dangerous mission.”

“This was one of their toughest missions yet.”

The words floated around his head as he heard people muttering to one another. He tried not to picture the worst for you. You had made it back, he knew that, but were you severely injured? Neteyam’s heart was practically beating a hole in his chest trying to find you.

Finally, he caught sight of some familiar braids and war paint near the edge of the crowd. He recognized Tsanten and Ni`awtu at your side hugging you.

“Y/n!” He finally was able to break out of the group. He hurried to you, joining in on your siblings’ group hug. He felt the way you clutched the back of his head with one hand and the other held onto his arm with a firm grip.

“Are you okay? Are you injured?” Neteyam pulled back to back to examine your face for any injuries.

Despite the minor cuts and scrapes, nothing looked too alarming to his knowledge. You had a pretty large gnash on your back, but it wasn’t bleeding out profusely or anything.

“No, I am not injured. Just scraped up.” You gave him a tiny smile. He was glad he got to see that again as he cupped your face and placed a quick peck onto your lips.

“Come on, I am sure Mo’at has medicine for these cuts.” You let Neteyam lead you away from the crowds and back to the huts. He sat you down on the ground and then disappeared to find his grandmother.

When he returned he had a handful of herbs, creams, oils, and bandages in his arms. You giggled at the sight.

“I did not think you were much of a healer.” He dropped everything at your side and then kneeled down to your level.

“Well my grandmother is the Tsahik after all. I happen to know one or two things.” Neteyam argued, his lips dancing with a tiny smile.

He gently worked to take your visor off and then wiped away the war paint. He knew you didn’t like to talk about the missions right away, so he enjoyed the comfortable silence between you two instead.

Neteyam’s hands were gentle as he rubbed the special herbs against your skin. You would occasionally hiss when it hurt a little bit more and he would mumble something about how he was almost done and you were doing so well.

He certainly wasn’t a healer like his grandmother or Kiri who had a special hand at medicine, but it meant a lot to both of you when he would heal your wounds for youor, when you would heal his after a long hunting day.

“Many, many people got hurt today.” You spoke after some silence. Neteyam hummed behind you.

“It was that bad?”

“Their machines are just so powerful. We are no match with our bows and arrows sometimes. They had to have known we were coming because they attacked back at us so harshly.” You shook your head some and Neteyam knew there was vivid images replaying in your mind.

“It is so hard to understand why they want us dead. If they were just a bit kinder then maybe there could be more peace worked out.” You continued on with your little rant, frustration becoming set in your body language. Your shoulders fell tense under the Sully boy’s hands.

“You know how hard they have tried with us. Someone always gets hurt. I suppose after all the failed efforts they have no other choice but violence, unfortunately.” Neteyam knew all about the schools his mother once attended in her earlier years. It seemed like the Sky People tried making an effort, but nothing ever held permanently.

“I know, it is just so frustrating. Tsanten and Naria are growing to that age where they will be old enough to go out on their own. I worry for them and what those demons could do to them.” A scowl sat on your face. Neteyam turned you around, cupping your face in his hands.

“I know how terrifying it can be. I worry for my siblings everyday, but you are very strong and you will be able to teach them well.” You smiled, but it didn’t stay for long as you casted your gaze away from him.

“I just wish I was not the one to always do it. My parents pay no attention to them anymore. They are always away. It should not be my job to teach my siblings every single life skill they will ever need.” You pushed yourself up from the ground, leaving Neteyam’s grasp.

He watched you wander to the entryway where you stared at the people moving about outside. Many were still tending to those who were wounded more worse than you.

Neteyam wasn’t a complete open book, but when he was with you, he felt comfortable enough to share the things bothering him the most. You, on the other hand, had a more harder time opening up to him. He knew you trusted him, but he couldn’t pull everything from you. He knew you parents were strict and absent people, always being away, which is why you held so much responsibility and burden. However, he didn’t know much more than that. You always closed it off.

Hearing what you were saying now, though, it was more than what you would usually say. Neteyam got up to join you at the entryway.

“You are right, it should not be your job, but unfortunately it is. You do a great job at teaching them and raising them.” His hand fell against your back. You leaned a tiny bit closer to him while your gaze was on Foana and Tuk a few feet away.

“I worry that they think I am too hard on them, but I am really just trying to help them survive on their own.” In that moment, Neteyam realized something. His whole life, his parents taught him how to hunt, fish, make kills, but their biggest motto was “Sully’s stick together.”

While yes, he was learning things on his own, he was also learning that he wouldn’t have to be alone because his family would always have his back. You did not have that.

You were the one who would always have your siblings’ back, but they wouldn’t always necessarily have yours. You were teaching them to survive on their own, not to depend on one another like he was taught growing up. Independence was a key feature of your family dynamic. Dependence was the key feature of his family dynamic.

“You are not too hard on them. You are doing what you know and hoping they will learn it too. It is a great feature to know you will always be dependable for them. However, you can always depend on me if you ever needed something.” You met his gaze and Neteyam smiled warmly at you.

“Your words are too kind. Thank you, my love.” Neteyam’s ears perked up. He had never heard that nickname before from you. You giggled upon seeing his surprised reaction.

“No, thank you, pretty girl.” He engulfed his arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest. You chuckled and he knew you didn’t quite understand his nickname he gave you, but it didn’t matter.

He thought that maybe you going out on these missions weren’t so bad as long as he was the one to patch you up afterwards—and he always was going to be the one patching you up every. single. time.

FOUR.

Neteyam ventured out on a day-long hunting expedition with his father, brother, and even your own little brother. You remembered how excited Tsanten was when Jake approached him one night to ask if he wanted to tag along to get some pointers from the older guys.

It warmed your heart to see Neteyam’s family being so welcome to your own. Tsanten didn’t have your dad to take him out like this, so being able to finally go out was like a dream come true for him, especially with the Olo’eyktan.

You had a pretty slow day considering Neytiri decided to take Tuk, Kiri, and your other three sisters out for what she liked to call a “girls day.” She extended the invite to you, but you figured with everyone out of the hut was a great opportunity to get some cleaning done.

With a job that would usually take hours, it only took about two and you were done by noon. Toys were put away; the rug was cleaned; things were put back where they belonged—the entire hut looked spotless.

You ended up venturing over to the Sully residence to see if Neytiri and the girls returned yet. You thought it was empty approaching since it was practically silent until you saw Mo’at sitting near the back grinding some of her herbs together.

She caught your eye before you could walk away. You had never really spoken to the Tsahik before. Most times, you would send your siblings in if they had gotten hurt and waited outside for them. You knew she was a woman of few words despite being so highly respected within the clan.

You bowed to her.

“You must be Neteyam’s…oh what do they say..girlfriend?” The older woman cracked a tiny smile causing you to flush.

“I suppose so, yes. I apologize for interrupting you.” You nodded to her bowl of herbs. She waved you off though, beckoning you inside.

“I come here sometimes to get away when I want to be alone. There is always someone bursting into my hut needing fixing.” You smiled a bit, sitting down beside the older Na’vi.

“I understand. It is always nice to get away sometimes.” She smiled, glad you understood her.

You felt a bit strange being in Neteyam’s home without him there. Ever since the family dinner, you had only been over a handful of times, so being here alone with just his grandmother was definitely different. The usual organized chaos that filtered through his home was replaced with tranquility as the day grew shorter.

“You are a hunter and warrior correct?” Mo’at spoke up again. Flushing that she knew that about you, you nodded.

“Those are very useful skills to have as a Na’vi like you. I am impressed, especially with how much my grandson tells me about you.” She waved her finger around. You were sure that if Neteyam was here he would be embarrassed she had said that.

“Thank you, Mo’at. My parents grew up that way, so they raised me the same.” Your parents had always been die-hard warriors, so it was practically in all of your blood to become just like them one day.

“I do not see your parents around as often as I used to.” Who knew the Tsahik knew so much about your family. You scratched the back of your ear to find some excuse that didn’t sound horrible to tell her.

“They are always on hunting trips. They like to travel a lot.” Not a complete lie, but not exactly the entire truth.

“I see, I see. They always seemed to be very ambitious people.” You nodded. Yes, ambitious was certainly one way to describe them.

“It is mostly just my siblings and I around the hut. They like to take very long hunting trips.” Mo’at nodded once again.

“Yes, Neteyam says that you are the main caretaker of your siblings.” You flushed again. How much was Neteyam actually talking about you when you weren’t around? A lot, apparently.

“That task can be rather daunting, but he says you handle it very well. All of your siblings seem like very respectful people.” She continued before you could respond. You smiled. That compliment meant a lot coming from Tsahik of the village.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.” She grinned at you while continuing to crush and grind away in her little bowl.

“Would you like to try?” She looked down at the bowl. You flushed realizing she was asking you to help grind up her herbs.

“Oh, sure.” She switched places with you and you began doing exactly what she had done. You crushed them down into tiny little bits and pieces.

“This could be your job one day.” Mo’at eyed you as she added in another handful. Your entire face deepened into a darker shade of blue.

“Oh..I do not know about that. Maybe?” You liked Neteyam a lot, but you two were teenagers still. His selection for a mate was still so far away and he would not become Olo’eyktan for quite some time.

“You like my grandson, no?” For a woman of few words, Mo’at seemed to have a lot to talk about with you.

“Yes, I do. He is a lovely young man.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw her grin from the corner of you eye.

“I do not know much about..what does Jakesully say..teenage love, but I know my grandson likes you a lot. He talks and talks about you so much. I know it can be scary stepping into that kind of love, but I usually do not steer wrong when I watch my children fall in love. I was not wrong about Jakesully and my daughter.” Hearing all of this coming from Tsahik meant so much to you. You held a lot of respect for the older Na’vi and now she was sitting beside you giving you advice about relationships like you were one of her own.

“Your hunting and warrior skills matched with your caretaking skills would make a wonderful Tsahik one day if that is what happens.” She squeezed your arm and everything in you felt so warm and comforted. No one had ever said things like that to you before and hearing it from Mo’at made it even more special.

“You are too kind. Thank you.” You flushed for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. Mo’at grinned once more.

“I know a kind soul when I see one. Eywa would not have brought you and Neteyam together if she was not wanting you two to be together in that way.” Obviously, Mo’at would know best when it came to Eywa. You smiled, glancing back down at the herbs.

Maybe one day this would be your fate.

—

Neteyam returned from his day-long hunting trip exhausted and ready to collapse into his hammock for a long nap. His mother was there to greet him with a kiss to the cheek and to his surprise, his grandmother was sitting inside eating her bowl of food.

“Hello, grandmother.” He bowed to her and she nodded back.

“Hello, my grandson. How was the trip?” Neteyam shrugged some, dropping his belongings to the ground for now. It was as best as it could be with Lo’ak being his usual self plus an added friend along for the ride.

“It was very informative. Father gave us great tips.” That part was not a lie. Jake always gave his sons great pointers for making their kills.

“That is great, I am very glad. I had a nice visit with your Y/n today.” Neteyam’s eyes widened a bit.

“You did? When?” He suddenly worried his grandmother told her embarrassing things about him or exposed how he would talk about her all the time.

“She stopped by here looking for you, I think, but I was here instead. I offered inside and we had a very nice chat. She is a wonderful young woman.” Neteyam couldn’t help but smile hearing that. You were amazing. He was glad to hear his grandmother liked her as much as he did.

“She would make a very wonderful Tsahik one day. She has nearly every skill necessary without even having much training for the position.” Mo’at eyed her grandson. Neteyam’s entire face flushed, but he also felt a sense of pride. You were great at nearly everything, he wasn’t surprised Mo’at thought that.

“Well, I hope one day it will happen. We are still young and—“

“Tsahik knows everything, son. It will happen.” Neteyam watched his grandmother beam at him widely. He flushed once more and then tried to hide the smirk forming on his lips by looking away.

In his head, he knew you were the one for him, but that was never definite. Hearing his grandmother basically confirm it was enough for him. You were it for him. Through and through.

FIVE.

You hadn’t snuck out during the night in awhile. Neteyam suggested it would be a nice way to get your minds off of things and just be with each other for a bit since your siblings were always interrupting or needing something.

Neteyam swung along the oh so familiar path to the tree he had taken so many times before. Eclipse had just begun and every time he was so amazed at how the forest lit up around him. It made Pandora that much more magical.

Like always, you had beaten him to the spot. Except this time, you weren’t alone. Your ikran was perched a few feet away and you had your riding visor on. Neteyam grew suspicious, but you only grinned at him.

“I thought we could go for a ride. We haven’t flown during Eclipse in so long.” You freckles were glowing and Neteyam could see the large smile on your face and your eagerness to fly.

“I did not bring any of my things and I only have my—“ You cut him off by revealing your hands that were hidden behind your back. You held his riding visor in your hands.

“I knew you would say that, so I planned ahead.” Neteyam could only smile at you. You always thought of everything.

“What if we get attacked or something?” Neteyam was still skeptical. He loved riding at Eclipse with you, but he felt under prepared if anything happened while you two were out.

“Nothing will happen, I promise. If it makes you feel any better, I have my bow. Come on, we have not ridden in so long.” You were tugging at his hand and he couldn’t resist your pleas. He took his visor from your hands and smiled.

“Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” He would do anything to be able to make you smile like you were right now. He called for his ikran while you hopped up on yours.

Once you two were both on, you exchanged a glance. There was a playful smirk on your lips as you pushed your visor down. Neteyam grew curious of the look.

“Last one to Ayram Alusing loses!” And then you were off before Neteyam could even process what you had said.

He quickly took off with you already five paces ahead of him. He had no idea how you gained so much speed already while he struggled to even pick up momentum. The wind blew against his face, making it burn some of his skin that was not protected. It was definitely not working in his favor tonight.

“You are losing, Neteyam!” He heard you call from ahead of him. He growled some and focused all of his energy into catching up to you.

He was finally able to catch up to your side. He smirked over at you.

“Who is losing now?” He teased and pushed ahead ignoring the harsh breeze as best as he could.

The two of you soared through the sky, the Hallelujah Mountains just ahead. Neteyam had the lead, but you were just on his tail, literally. If you reached out, you could probably touch the end of his ikran.

You had a competitive spirit, so there was no way you were letting yourself loose to Neteyam. From his peripheral, he saw you creeping up on him.

“You can not win everything, Y/n!” He called over to you, but there was something in your eye telling him you were definitely not losing this round.

He tried focusing through the bond to get his ikran to pull ahead as the first two mountains came up. However, you blew right past him like magic and crossed the imaginary finish like. Neteyam sighed in defeat as you pumped your arms up and down for another victory.

“I told you I would win. You do not win against me.” The eldest Sully still smiled nonetheless, enjoying seeing you so happy. He would lose a hundred times to you to be able to see you as happy and carefree as you were right now.

“My apologies, I should have known I had no chance.” Neteyam held his hands up in surrender. The little smirk continued to dance on your lips as you took off to keep flying around the mountains.

The boy stuck close to your side, the two of you smiling widely as you weaved in and around the large rock formations. You would occasionally dive over the larger branches hanging out to make it a game.

Neteyam felt like his parents where he knew they still snuck out at later hours of the night to do this. It was so thrilling, yet so relaxing at the same time. The breeze had finally died down and it no longer felt like bullets pelting his skin as he rode.

“You want to rest here? There is an open spot.” You pointed up ahead at a clearing in one of the mountain tops. Neteyam nodded and followed you to the landing.

You jumped off your ikran, taking in your surroundings. The entire area was glowing its bioluminescent glow. Each flora, leaf, tree moss, everything was shining bright acting as the light in the dark night.

“That was easily the best ride I have had in awhile. What about you?” You flipped your visor up and turned to Neteyam. In a swift move, he snaked his arms around your waist to bring you closer.

“That certainly was a great ride, but maybe next time you will lose the race here.” He grinned and earned an eye roll from you.

“In your dreams. You may be future Olo’eyktan, but you can never win against me.” You shook your head and Neteyam only chuckled.

“And you may be future Tsahik one day, so that competitive nature may need to die down a bit.” He smirked and your face flushed. You broke away from his grasp to look up at the blue-purple sky.

“Your grandmother speaks of the same thing.” You smiled, thinking about your time with Mo’at a few weeks ago.

“Is that what you two talked about that one day?” Neteyam questioned, always wondering what his grandmother could possibly be saying to you when he wasn’t around.

“She is a very kind lady. She knows what she is talking about.” You laughed some. Neteyam cringed knowing she definitely embarrassed him during that conversation.

“Did she say anything about me?” He had to ask even if he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, so many things. She loves you.” You found a comfortable spot against one of the trees to stargaze. Neteyam joined you.

“Anything embarrassing?” Your tiny giggle told him all he needed to know. He internally face palmed.

“If I told you, it would ruin the fun.” You grinned and Neteyam knew that Mo’at definitely embarrassed the shit out of him. Wonderful.

“Well, I am serious about your future Tsahik fate. Just think, you and I head of the clan one day. It would be perfect.” Neteyam threw his arm around you and you giggled at the image appearing in your head.

The Sully boy pictured it too. It looked very similar to his mother and father right now. You would still be a warrior while also caring for the people when they needed it. He would wear the large feather chest piece and headpiece his father wore—planning hunting trips, war parties, overseeing the entire clan. The future was so close yet so far. He knew it would be before him soon.

For now though, he wouldn’t worry about that and enjoyed the time he was spending with you by his side. It was enough waking up in the early hours of the morning, spending hours on specific skills, he didn’t need to wish it upon himself right now.

“Well, if it does happen, at least the people seem content with your choice of..me.” You giggled at your wording. Neteyam smiled.

“It is a miracle no one has talked much. I think they know my father will be at their throats considering I am their son if they did say anything about you.”

“I knew it would be fine. You worry too much sometimes, you know.” You poked at his chest, making him squirm away from you.

“I am merely just caring about you. It is not worry.” Neteyam attempted to defend himself, but it was clear he had a weak defense.

“You also worry. Do not be afraid to admit it. It is charming knowing you worry so much.” Another grin came from you.

“Well of course I am going to worry and care. It is who I am.” You pulled him back towards you so he could cuddle into you.

“And I love who you are.” You cradled his head, pulling your hand through his pretty braids.

He almost said it. He almost had the courage to tell you.

Jake taught Neteyam the phrase when he once asked what it meant after hearing him tell it to his mother. Jake explained how it was much more intimate than I see you. It was something the Sky People would tell those they cared deeply for.

Neteyam had been wanting to say it you for ages, but he never thought it was the right time. He didn’t know how you would react. Would you freak out? Would you say it back? Did you love him? He for sure loved you, but he wasn’t sure if you reciprocated his feelings that much. He didn’t want to scare you with such a meaningful phrase. It seemed like the right time, but it also didn’t at the same time.

Instead, he nuzzled his head further into you and breathed you in. He savored the way your hair smelled—somehow it always smelled like fresh flowers. He listed to your heartbeat, nearly putting him to sleep. The moment was taking him over. It was complete bliss and comfort being in your arms.

THE ONE TIME HE SAID IT.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

You planned a cute little picnic in the forest for you and Neteyam. He was dragged out of his hut with instructions to keep his eyes closed or he would ruin the surprise. Your grip on his hand was tight as he was dragged through the forest, occasionally knocking his head against a low hanging branch you forgot to push out of the way.

“Y/n, that was the third branch. Where are we going?” He laughed trying to figure out where he was, but it wasn’t much luck considering he was blindfolded.

“Just be patient. You will love it.” You hoped he would love it. You worked to put it together all day yesterday, so if he didn’t like it you’d be damned.

Trusting you, Neteyam kept accepting hits to the head and scratches to the arm knowing it had to be worth it in the end.

When you two finally arrived at your destination, you pulled the cloth from his eyes. He squinted, not used to the bright light, but when his vision finally leveled out, he was in awe of what he saw.

The little clearing had been decorated with numerous vines that wrapped around each tree branch. Flower petals were scatted along the ground. It looked like something from his dreams.

“Surprise! What do you think? A picnic in the forest.” You held your arms out, excitement bouncing across your face. Neteyam was still speechless at the effort that must’ve been put into all of it.

“You did this all for me?” You nodded, leading him further in.

“Of course I did. I had some help from Kiri and my sisters, but you deserve it after all the work you have been doing.” You turned to him, grinning widely. Neteyam cupped your face trying to find the words to express his gratitude.

“You are the best person ever. Thank you, my love.” He pecked your lips and then went to see what you had packed for your picnic.

You joined him on the blanket Neytiri let you use while Neteyam immediately began eating anything he saw. You laughed at his actions.

“Someone has not eaten yet today?”

“Oh, you have no idea. I have been out since the eclipse ended training with my father.” You grinned, glad you could feed him.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Since it was a spur the moment surprise, neither of you thought to bring any weapons with you besides the knives you always carried. It was a part of the forest only Na’vi went. There was no possible way danger could lurk around the corner or behind a tree.

“If you could come back as anything you wanted, what what you want to come back as?” Neteyam laid across the blanket staring up at the clear sky. Your head was beside his as you laid the other way. Your stomach’s were full of food and now you were just relaxing in the sun.

“Anything?” That was a hard question. There was so many things you wanted to be.

“Anything.”

“I think I would want to come back as an ikran. They are so beautiful and just imagine being able to go anywhere you wanted basically. Flying through the sky with your rider. It sounds like such a dream.” You adored your rides with your ikran and being one would be a whole other level you would want to experience.

“I think I would want to come back as one of the good scientists like Norm or Dr. Max.” Neteyam’s answer surprised you and even himself. Sky People were evil and even some didn’t fully trust the good scientists who stayed behind, but he wanted to know what it felt like to live as human.

His father told him and his siblings countless stories of his time being apart of the Sky People and it always intrigued Neteyam.

“I know it sounds crazy, but my father told us so many stories as his time as one of them. It just seems so interesting to me.” He continued his reasoning when you didn’t respond.

“I understand it. I think it would be interesting to live as them for a day.” It was strange to Neteyam. Sky People could live like his people whenever they chose to, but he could not live like them. There was no science to make human bodies for Na’vi people who wanted the experience.

He got a lot of exposure from Spider, but it wasn’t really the same. Neteyam wanted to see it, feel it for himself.

“I have just always felt human because of my father’s blood. Even though I do not have the five fingers like Lo’ak and Kiri, I still have half of his blood in me.” Neteyam tore his gaze to his hands. His long, thin fingers that were just like his mother’s and Tuk’s.

His parents liked to say he took on more of Neytiri’s genes while Lo’ak gained Jake’s.

“It is okay to wonder and want to feel it, Neteyam. You are half human, half Na’vi. It is good you are curious.” You reached up to caress his cheek and the boy leaned into your touch.

“It just feels wrong, though. The Sky People are demons. They hurt us. Why do I want to wonder more about them?” In a sense, he also felt guilt. He knew how much his mother despised those people and even sometimes Spider because he was one of them. Why should he want to know more when all they did was hurt people?

“Do not feel guilty for wondering. Your father was them once upon a time,” He grinned at your english phrase you used. Him and Lo’ak were definitely rubbing off on you. “And he is a good human. You can still wonder and want to be like them and still be good. Norm and Max are good Sky People. It is your blood, your ancestors. Do not feel bad for wanting to wonder.” Neteyam liked the reassurance you were giving him. He was worried he sounded crazy or something.

He was about to respond when his ears twitched for a second and he suddenly got a random chill across his arms. A faint rustling noise floated into his ears. He quickly sat up.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so alarmed, but the way his skin started to crawl told him it wasn’t some animal lurking.

“Neteyam? What is wrong?” You sat up seeing his quick change in demeanor.

“Shh, be quiet for a second.” He held his finger to his lips. His eyes bounced around the area you two were in and he grabbed for his knife.

The rustling noise continued and it got closer to where you guys were. Neteyam grabbed your arm, making you stand up with him. His actions were frightening you because you didn’t know what was going on.

“Someone else is here.” He whispered to you. He felt his heart beating a bruise into his chest at the idea of someone else lurking close by.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

A noise and then an arrow was flying just above your heads. You screamed out of instinct and fear. Neteyam’s hand was back on you about to hide behind a tree. When he spun around, two larger hands with a much stronger grip grabbed ahold of the two of you.

You screamed again. Neteyam hit them with his knife causing a minor distraction. He spun away from the prying hands, until four more people emerged from the bushes, large guns in their hands. He suddenly stopped, knowing he couldn’t take them with just a knife.

“Well, look at what we have here. Looks like we crashed someone’s date.” Neteyam knew it wasn’t a true Na’vi by the way they wore full clothes and spoke in english to him. It was Avatars.

The one, tall with a buzz cut haircut, crouched down to be at his eye level. Neteyam hissed at him as he scanned his entire face with his eyes. He held his knife out for defense.

“I heard you talking a few moments ago. You said your father was from the..Sky People. Your father doesn’t happen to be Jake Sully, does it?” With the English Neteyam did understand, he knew this guy was bad and clearly had his dad on his radar.

“Oe rä’ä tslam nga.” (I do not understand you) Neteyam growled out. The avatar looked at him, quirking his eyebrow and exchanging a glance with his accomplices with him.

You continued to struggle in the hands that held a tight grip on you.

“If you tell me where your father is, I’ll let her go.” He nodded towards you. Neteyam only hissed at him once more, knife high, ready to strike.

“Or we can do this the hard way, it’s up to you. You are definitely your father.” The avatar man grabbed Neteyam’s hand. He examined his fingers, raising his eyebrow once more.

“Sure didn’t get his genes though, that’s for sure.” The others snickered around them. Neteyam pulled his hand back, unsure of what to do. If he went for a hit, they wound shoot and he didn’t want that to happen.

His eyes gazed over at you. You met his gaze, the same unsureness resting in your look. If you were scared, Neteyam couldn’t tell because you hid it well.

He couldn’t call in his dad because that would just lead this guy right to him. He was out of any good options.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

“All you have to do is tell me where your dad is and no one will get hurt.” Neteyam thought of an idea.

He slowly raised his hands in means of surrender. The guy looked at him, curious. Neteyam set his knife down by his feet and then slowly moved his hands to where his transmitter sat on his neck.

He pushed into the buttons and began speaking in Na’vi since these guys clearly didn’t understand it as well as he could speak it.

(Let’s pretend this is Na’vi because I can’t translate the entire conversation 😌)

“Dad, we’re under attack, I need help.” Neteyam glanced warily at the man standing before him who watched his moves carefully.

“Neteyam? Where are you?” His dad came into his ear, urgent and worried.

“In the forest where the open clearing is. Avatar men with guns. We’re surrounded.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Y/n and I. We need your help.” The guy wasn’t exactly picking up on what Neteyam was saying which was good. His plan was working so far.

“Okay, we’re on our way.” And then he was out. Neteyam knew two things after that: one, his father was a much better fighter than these guys were. He was Na’vi, he had years and years to adapt. He could take these guys out easily. Two, his dad wasn’t going to give himself up to this guy and if they could defeat him, it wouldn’t even be in the question.

“He is coming now.” Neteyam spoke in english so the guy understood. He quirked his eyebrow once more, almost surprised.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” The others chucked around them. Behind his back, Neteyam made a small hand signal to you that he hoped you would understand.

Suddenly, there was a screech. You had bitten the arm that was holding you. Neteyam used that distraction to grab his knife from the ground. He went for the guy’s leg.

You wrestled out of the grasp. The others went for you, but being the skilled warrior you were, it was easy to take them out. You swung your leg around, taking one out with your foot.

Neteyam slashed the leg of the guy and went for his gun. His father had taught him and Lo’ak how to use one, so he knew exactly where to go to blow the amo out of it.

He used his knife to slash another one’s arm. It was pure chaos. Blood sputtered every which direction and the others were trying to fire their guns at you two. You were quicker than them, though. You knocked them from their hands and kicked their legs out.

One particular cut Neteyam made went across the entire face of one of the avatars.

“Quaritch, we need to fall back. We can’t take this many losses right now.” One of them urgently spoke to the one Neteyam slashed the leg of.

“I need Jake Sully. I am not leaving without him.” He argued bitterly.

“We’ll come back when we’re better prepared! At least we know they’re close by.” He seemed to finally give in. He called something Neteyam didn’t understand and all of his accomplices began retreating back into the forest where they had come from.

Relief flooded through Neteyam. They were leaving and the both of you were still safe. However, his relief didn’t last for very long.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

He turned to you, a smile spread across his lips until he saw the way you clutched your stomach. Your hands were trembling as they slowly revealed what was happening. Your knife handle was sticking out and blood was dripping from your skin.

There wasn’t a smile on his face anymore. His relief disappeared and was quickly replaced by fear.

“Neteyam..” You sputtered, swaying on your feet. He was quick to catch you before you hit the ground.

“No, no, no, no, Y/n. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Look at me. Look at me. You’re okay.” He was sputtering, clutching your arm and staring at the way your knife was lodged into your stomach.

“Why am I so warm? Is it warm?” Your entire face was losing color by the second. Neteyam, even though he tried not to show it for your sake, was panicking.

“You’re fine. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Help is coming. They’re coming to help us.” He knew better than to pull the knife out, but you were practically pouring blood everywhere.

“Am I dying? Is this what it feels like to die?” The blood loss was making you go into shock. Neteyam was cradling your head, trying to stay calm for you and himself.

“No, you are not dying, my love. You are going to be okay. You are not going to die. I will not let you die.” If he had his bow and arrow, maybe he would’ve been able to take down those other guys easier. If he had a better weapon, anything other than a knife then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

You were not dying.

Your breathing started becoming rigid. It was broken into heavy pants and you were sputtering again.

“If-if I don’t..If I don’t make it..Can you-will you take care of them for me?” Your siblings. Neteyam visibly shut his eyes for a moment. How would he explain this to Foana? Who would take care of them if you..no you were not dying.

“Do not say that. You are going to take care of them because you are going to live. My dad is coming. Everything is going to be okay.” It was mostly just so Neteyam would believe himself too. Everything was going to be okay.

His ears twitched and perked up when he heard sounds of ikrans coming. His father’s ikran came into view along with his mother’s. They landed and then rushed to where you two were.

“Dad! Someone put her knife into her. She..she is losing so much blood.” Neteyam’s voice broke that time. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Shit, shit.” Neteyam watched as his dad gently flipped you to your side. Luckily, there was no exit wound, but the blood kept coming.

“I-I do not feel very good. I-I-“ You were heaving at this point. Your eyes were glazing over and your entire skin had gone from a deep blue to an entirely lighter shade.

“Y/n, you need to stay with me. Please, please stay with me.” Neteyam cupped your face, trying to keep your eye contact with him.

“We need to get her to the village. To Max and Norm and Mo’at.” Neytiri had a look of pure horror on her face seeing you like that.

Your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer. The blood loss was becoming fatal. Neteyam began shaking you when he saw your eyelids drift closed.

“Y/n! Y/n!” He was in too much of a panic to even check if you were breathing or not still. He could not lose you. Not now.

“We need to get her to the village, right now. Neteyam! Are you with me?” His father was practically yelling at this point. However, his eldest son fell into what was his own shock.

He did not and could not move seeing your almost lifeless body in front of him. He didn’t process it as his dad lifted you up to his ikran. His mother had to pull him to his feet, trying to snap him back into attention. Nothing worked, though.

All he could think about was you. You, you, you. You were in love. His future woman. His future mate. You were the sister to his siblings. The sister to your siblings. You were their care taker. Who would..who would take care of them now?

He should’ve told you. He should’ve told you the other night on your night ride. It was so close on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he find the courage to tell you then? What if he never got to tell you ever now?

Your body became so lifeless in his arms. Pale skin, gone eyes, blood nearly everywhere. This couldn’t be the end. There was so much life ahead for the two of you. Your future plans. He couldn’t possibly do it all without you.

His mother somehow managed to get him onto her ikran. She flew quickly through the sky after her husband who clutched your body tightly.

When they landed, you were rushed directly to Max and Norm. Mo’at was brought in to give you a heavy sedation medicine so they could pull the knife out without damaging anything serious. It was near chaos. No one but Mo’at was allowed where they were inside the labs.

Neteyam chewed on his bottom lip. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness, everything at once was eating him up inside. He figured he should be the one to tell your siblings what happened, so he did.

Their faces were enough for him to finally break down right in front of them. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. The phrase repeated in his head like a broken record.

All five of them sat on the ground of your hut hugging one another close. For a moment he hated your parents for not being here in this moment. They had no idea what was happening to their daughter right now.

Neytiri offered their hut to your siblings without hesitation to stay in.

Hours were ticking by it stated to feel like days to Neteyam. There was no word on the progress or your condition. It was merely a waiting game at this point. The knife was lodged deep and you lost a lot of blood.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Mo’at finally emerged after what seemed like almost six hours where a large group had gathered outside of the lab doors—Neteyam and his family included. All of them deeply concerned about your well-being.

“The knife has been removed. She is stable, but she is sleeping still and will be for a few days.” A tiny bit of relief washed through Neteyam knowing the operation was at least successful.

—

The days went by and you had finally awoken. Once visitors were allowed, your siblings were the first to check on you, of course. Neteyam hung back, a bit anxious and nervous to see you again.

He felt so guilty for what happened. He could not protect you after saying countless times that he would at any given moment. His failure caused him to hang his head low and avoid looking people’s way when he went out.

Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak were the next group of visitors. Neteyam still hung back. Maybe it was fear that was holding him back?

Could he possibly look you in the eye again after seeing you with a knife lodged into you? Not really. His fear made him feel upset in a sense. Why could he not face you? You were his love, yet he could not find himself to step foot into the lab.

A few more days passed and eventually the doctors and Mo’at agreed to move you back into your hut for more comfort. Neteyam avoided the entire village that day, in fear that he would see you.

What was wrong with him? One minute he could not stop seeing you and now he was afraid to even make eye contact with you.

It made him feel even more guilty.

One night, he sat outside by one of the drop-off spots. His head pounded and every single thought he ever had was swirling around like a school of fish.

He didn’t feel another presence until he caught sight of his mother sitting down beside him. She had began recognizing his absent behaviors and his avoidant gazes anytime he was around people. She knew how hard this was on her son.

“Have you seen her at all?” She crafted her words gently. Neteyam shook his head.

“I cannot. It pains me and the guilt is eating me alive.” He grabbed his chest like something was actually messing with him in there.

“Well, she is asking for you. She is confused why you have not seen her yet. You should go see her, Neteyam.”

“I can not. Every time I look at her I remember the horrid images of the knife deep in her stomach as the blood seeped through. It was the worst part of everything. I promised her protection and I can not even do that anymore.” He wanted his mother to understand, but he knew she wound not. Not completely, at least.

“Neteyam, this is not your blame. You did everything you could and no one is blaming you. I promise you, son.” Her arm outstretched to bring comfort to her son. She rubbed his back, trying to get him to understand.

“Then why do I feel so, so guilty like it is my fault?” He pleaded for an answer. His mother tried to come up with as best of an answer as she could.

“When you care for someone as deeply as you do, whatever happens to them begins to feel like it is your fault. It is not your fault, though. You take the blame because you think there is no where else to place it. My son, you did everything you could. No one is upset at you or mad or angry. Y/n is not upset with you. Do not think that.” Neteyam’s head hung low.

“I think it will fix a lot of things if you go see her. You will begin to realize this was none of your doing or fault.” Neytiri urged once more and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep refusing. He had to be mature. He was almost Olo’eyktan and he couldn’t even face his own injured (almost) mate.

“Okay. I will go see her.” Neytiri smiled, giving her son a nod of encouragement.

The Sully boy stood and turned in the direction of your hut. He started bracing himself—for insults? Anger? Sadness? Frustration?

The closer he got to you, the faster his heart would beat against his chest. From inside, he could hear your siblings talking and at times arguing with one another.

He tapped on the wood before pushing aside the flap that covered the inside. Tsanten and Naria looked his way.

“Neteyam! You’re here!” Foana was at his legs, hugging him much like Tuk did. He smiled down at the little girl.

“Hello, Foana. Tsanten. Naria. Ni`awtu.” He bowed before them. Their looks told him they had never been greeted that way before.

In the corner, Neteyam caught sight of your figure. You were sitting upright carving something when you finally noticed his presence in your home.

“Neteyam, hello. Come in, come in.” You urged him in further. He slowly went to you and your siblings filtered themselves out knowing you two probably needed some space.

“You look so much better. How are you feeling?” He questioned taking in your skin that returned to its usual blue shade. You smiled some.

“I am definitely feeling a lot better. How are you?” You took ahold of his hands. The questioned seemed silly to him considering he wasn’t the one who got stabbed.

“I am doing okay. I am not the one who got stabbed, though.” He stifled a small laugh. You rubbed at his fingers and he was just glad to be able to feel your hands in his again, not the lifeless feeling they once were.

“Well, I have not seen you yet, so I was making sure you were okay.” Neteyam grimaced just a bit. He felt guilty for not visiting you sooner, but he just couldn’t bring himself to face you in the state that you were in.

“Yes, I am okay. I am sorry I did not visit you sooner. I..I just felt guilty about all of this and I was being selfish with myself.” His head hung low, ears dropping. You grabbed his chin though, shaking your head.

“There is nothing to feel guilty about, Neteyam. You did everything you could. Eywa gave me life again because she knew my time was not over yet. This was not your fault.” Your words were reassuring. He forced a small smile.

“Plus, you forget how strong I am. I have thick skin. Literally.” You laughed this time. The joke was corny, but it made both of you smile.

You allowed yourself to pull Neteyam closer and he situated himself so his head laid in your lap. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers raking through his braids. It was a familiar feeling he had grown to miss while you were recovering.

“Hey, Y/n?” You turned your attention to the boy in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Neteyam’s heart was pounding, nervous for your reaction. He wasn’t sure if that was an Earth phrase you knew or understood, but he hoped it was.

A tiny smile danced on your lips. You caressed his cheek, leaning down to kiss it.

“I love you.”

The rest of the evening was spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

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hashtagloveloses · 11 months

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if you know me, you know that i love sailor moon. i love it more than a normal person, i know almost everything there is to know about it. it has been with me at every stage of my life so far, been a part of who i have become each step of the way. as the final sailor moon movie comes out, covering the stars arc, i’ve been thinking about its overall message. if you know the overall story, it is a space opera, of cyclical war between light and dark, creation and chaos. and in the final arc, a very far future version of sailor moon herself comes back into the past to try and convince her past self to end it all before the cycle gets worse. she idolizes her past self, eternal sailor moon, her powerful yet still teenage self. and young sailor moon still refuses to destroy it all, the whole cycle, because life is worthwhile, even with darkness and sadness. she convinces her future self not to regret her past choices, and inspires her to keep going.

reading that as a teen was impactful, but rereading it now, and viewing it whenever i can see the new movies, i understood, maybe, where naoko takeuchi was coming from. to write a whole series rejoicing in the difficulties, the joys, and the power of being a teenage girl, and to end it with that girl comforting and inspiring her future adult self, being reminded not to regret who she was and what she valued.

there are so many times that i wish i could go back and change certain things i did that would’ve changed my whole life trajectory and saved me from some hardships i feel like now i cannot escape. i want to go back and talk to younger me and guide her and protect her. but when i read sailor moon, i think that maybe she would remind me i was enough. i made the right choices with what i had at the time. i was powerful then and i am powerful now. i was enough then and i am enough now. i didn’t lose her potential, and her talent. she got me where i am today, she is here with me, just like eternal sailor moon is to sailor cosmos. and i think that’s a message a lot of people need sometimes as we grow up and compare ourselves to our younger selves.

#sailor moon #sailor moon cosmos #sailor stars #eternal sailor moon #usagi tsukino #just some thoughts i had #original post

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petrapalerno · 4 months

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✨Free Monster & Alien Smut✨

Hi, I'm Petra Palerno and write filthy otherworldly smut. I mostly dabble in novels but have recently decided to give erotic shorts a try here and on my patreon.

Pretty much all content on this blog is NSFW. Minors do not engage. For TW/CW check individual stories.

✨MASTER LIST

✨Submitting to the Alien Barbarian

You sign up for an Alien breeding program, and the fact that they're brutal barbarians is icing on the cake.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging and violence.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Like my writing? Support me but reading my other works!

✨Love on the Korlyan Moon

My current patreon serial---new chapters posted on Fridays!

A bubble babe is unknowingly dropped into a mysterious ocean by the Deenz transport ship. Lena, a tattoo artist from the twin cities, is sure she's going to die as the bubble she's in sinks deeper and deeper. She's rescued by Kitaico, a color shifting tentacled alien, and unknowingly takes his mating venom. She must cycle through heats all while trying to resist her attraction to Kitaico.

✨All I Wanted Was Sushi but I got Abducted By Aliens Instead*

Book #1 in the Bubble Babes Series

Opal is trying her best in the Midwest after the sudden death of her parents. Everything comes to a crashing halt as she's abducted by aliens and forced to work as a human dancer for extraterrestrial enjoyment. A chance encounter with an alien prince while stuck in a traffic jam might just change the trajectory of Opal's new life in space.

✨All I Wanted Was To Become A Scientist But Now I've Got An Alien Boyfriend*

Book #2 in the Bubble Babes Series

“Sometimes I think it would have been easier if I hadn’t accepted the free shower at the hot alien’s apartment.”

☆JESSY

For the past few years, my life has kind of blown. On Earth, I dedicated my entire existence to science, even if my peers dismissed me as a pretty face. When I got abducted by aliens, I was forced to dance in a bubble for extra-terrestrial enjoyment.

I can’t get anyone to take me seriously even in space.

When I escaped by crashing my alien captor’s bus, Gra’eth saved me from drowning and even offered me a place to stay. He keeps telling people I’m his mate, even though I keep telling him the human word for what we are is roommates, but he refuses to say it that way. Sometimes I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious—and for my very literal neurodivergent brain, that’s a big problem.

☆GRA’ETH

I never expected to have to save Jessy, and I certainly never expected for this strange human to be my mate. Her idea of fun would be to take apart my data pad only to see if she could put it back together again, which sounds like torture to me.

I’ve convinced her to stay in my apartment as what she calls a roommate. The mating bond won’t let me let her leave, but humans can’t even feel it. I don’t know how to keep things friendly when just the smell of her hair is enough to send me into a mating frenzy.

I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I can’t keep fighting the pull of this bond. This little speckled human will be the death of me.

✨All I Wanted Was a Glass of Vino but an Alien Duke Kidnapped Me Instead *

Book #3 in the Bubble Babes Series

The Bubble Babe series continues in this standalone novel.

Will an aquatic alien duke be able to reconcile the fact that his fated mate is a small, mouthy, human woman who can't swim? Will that human be able to love him despite his scars and the fact that he's keeping her captive?

☆MARTA

The reality of being a mob boss' daughter is anything but glamorous, despite what one might think. In the absence of true freedom, my only companion was my loyal dog, Bruno. When he passed, I felt like my life had hit rock bottom. But when aliens abducted me from my pity party in a local wine bar, I realized how wrong I was. As if things couldn't get any worse, I woke up in an alien duke's closet, forced to rely on a giant alien pleasure toy as my only means of defense. All I know is that the gaudy duke can’t stand me…and the feeling is mutual.

☆RAF’ERE

Throughout my dukedom, I have dedicated myself to restoring the fi'len species to their natural aquatic habitats. How in the goddess's name am I supposed to do that when this human is my mate? Despite her mouthiness, the tiny human cannot swim. Did that stop me from stealing her cryopod from a crashed ship and locking it in my closet? Absolutely not. I also didn’t expect her to wake up and demand answers, either. But I can’t expect my people to look at me to lead if a human stands beside me, despite how much my body burns for hers. The dilemma arises: should I prioritize the goddess's wishes or grant her the freedom she deserves, joining the other human refugees?

This erotic alien romance is part 3 of the Bubble Babes series. It can be read as either a standalone or as a continuation of earlier books. This book features a 5’2” plus sized Italian-American female male character and a 7’6” aquatic alien duke as the male main character. Tropes include Kidnapping, size difference, enemies to loves, reformed playboy, alien romance, fated mates, and forced proximity. This full-length novel (67K words) ends with a HEA.

#monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster smut #monsterfuqqer #monster romance #monster lover #smut #terato #aliens #i love aliens #alien romance #alien x reader #alien x human #alien

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talesofadragon · 4 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬

Synopsis: Receiving wind that Hydra has successfully managed to awaken another wave of winter soldiers, Captain America appoints his two best avengers, Bucky Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N, for the job. But aside from Bucky’s trepidation at reliving his worst memories, there’s something else rooting him in his place–the fear of inflicting harm on the woman he loves the most. Between her encouraging words and his violent past, what will happen when Y/N is forced to encounter her boyfriend’s alter ego?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Angst | Fluff

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 Masterlist | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄. Ironically, considering his service as a soldier during World War II in the 107th Infantry Regiment. One might assume his story followed the typical trajectory of a veteran—a man who had served and preserved, giving his all until he had nothing left to lose nor gain.

Bucky faced wars in waves, losing his sense of direction as he battled the currents. Maybe the placidity he yearned for was because of the instabilities and perplexities he'd witnessed, though the peace he needed went far beyond that. From the moment he was reborn into this world, all he ever wanted was to find solace within the hurricane that had upended his life.

Bucky sought peace, yes. Peace within the chaos of his fractured realities.

The sky lit up, a white veil enveloping the night's somber hues. Its brilliance lingered for a fleeting moment before the darkness regained its dominion. Sometimes, Bucky wondered if the storms were a remedy or a curse. When the sky, such as tonight, wailed and bled, and when the clouds tore themselves up to bits and pieces, was the chaos some twisted form of peace? Or was it his fractured mind pitifully attempting to shroud the truths with another veiled deception?

Rain dropped down in fervor, droplets finding themselves on Bucky’s skin. A part of him told him to move away and give the sky some space to grieve. Another rebutted that he should stay to remind the heavens that they’re not alone.

He raised his head, feeling the water droplets on his face, allowing them to delicately trace his features. The storm was ravenous, tumultuous, mutinous—everything a winter turbulence should be, everything the winter soldier in him was.

And yet, the damned poets he’d read about weren’t too far off in their exuberant analogies, comparing a winter storm to a peaceful spring. As polarizing as it was, there was a certain peace to its violence—a peace that Bucky could experience extrospectively but never conversely.

“James,” he heard behind him. This voice, perhaps, was the nearest semblance of personal tranquility he could reach. It permeated his skin, nestled in every nucleus, exuding an air of calmness and hope. He cherished it when she called him by his name. It was her personal term of endearment. To the world, he was several things: Sergeant Barnes, Bucky, and The Winter Soldier. But to Y/N, his precious Y/N, he was James. And he loved her even more for the simple yet profound reminder.

“I’m scared,” he admitted in a shy whisper, playing with his fingers. Truths came easy with her, despite how he grappled with them in his solitary battles. “Going there… going there will trigger a lot of bad memories. It might even trigger him, too.”

Y/N stepped closer, placing her palm on his left arm. His metal arm. She didn’t miss the way Bucky shut his eyes, which is why her thumb traced invisible shapes on the prosthetic. “You don’t have to go there, baby. You don’t have to do anything if your heart’s not in it.”

“But you’ll be there. I can’t…. I won’t for the life of me let you wander around in that monstrous prison world without me. Especially with all those people there.” Bucky’s lower lip trembled as he spoke. His blue eyes harbored a thousand emotions. Peace, fortitude, courage… they all fought waves of anguish and despair. But love, concern, and fear all remained afloat.

“James,” Y/N whispered delicately, framing his cheeks with her gentle hands. Bucky nuzzled in her open palms, his lips brushing against her skin. His eyes captured her in an everlasting glance, filled with so much devotion. “I don’t want you to relive your worst nightmare because of me. Yes, you are our primary knowledge hub when it comes to Hydra, but you’re also a part of our family. We would never want to harm you. I would never want to harm you or cause you despair.”

“You could never,” Bucky answered, his hands falling from the railing and finding their place on her hips. He suddenly became aware that she was wearing no more than his Henley and a pair of pajama bottoms in the middle of this storm. So, he pulled her closer and buried her face in his chest.

“I can go with Steve, maybe even Nat. You don’t have to do this. You–”

“It’s not the memories I fear most, angel.”

“Then what is it?” Y/N asked, raising her head to meet his eyes without stepping out of his embrace. “Is it those soldiers they have created?”

Bucky stared at the falling rain, realizing that the two of them had drifted away from the sliding door’s overhang, which shielded Y/N. He tried to step back, but she must’ve falsely interpreted it as his attempt at fleeing because she tightened her hold on him.

He brushed a strand of her damp hair behind her ear, his thumbs tracing her pink cheek. “What if he comes back?”

“Say his name aloud,” Y/N encouraged. “It’s okay, baby.”

He gulped, closing his eyes for a moment. “The Winter Soldier.” Heaven knew he didn’t want to, and maybe that’s why this whole storm had assaulted New York this evening.

Y/N, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think the same. Calmly, she lifted herself on her toes to kiss his beard, nestling her head in the junction between his neck and shoulder. “The Winter Soldier is what you make him out to be.”

“He’s a murderer,” Bucky spat, his hold on Y/N tightening as if the simple mention of the Soldat would breathe him back to life.

Y/N shook her head. “He’s you.”

“He’s not me, Y/N!” Bucky pried himself away, giving her an indignant look. “He’s a homicidal menace that will not hesitate to rip you apart without a second thought!”

Y/N tried to step closer, but Bucky flinched. He involuntarily retreated back, his cerulean eyes rimmed with despair and hurt. Y/N shook her head, locking her eyes with his. “The Winter Soldier is James Buchanan Barnes. A man that has never stopped fighting, not even for a second. He may be bruised, erratic, and damaged. But he’s not a monster. Not in my story.”

“Y/N,” Bucky all but growled, keeping as much distance between himself and the girl. “You have no idea how twisted these words sound. You won’t even have a chance to take them back or change your mind when he all but attacks you and rips your heart out of your chest like some goddamn fucking prize without even taking his eyes off yours!”

“My heart is his for the taking.” Bucky’s mind spiraled out of control. “As much as it is yours. He and you are one. What I feel for you, I feel for him.”

“Don’t, Y/N.”

Ignoring his comment, Y/N took his hands in hers before he had the chance to run away. “If you cannot see your true worth through your own eyes, James, then see it through my own. Every part of you is worthy. You and The Winter Soldier are heroes in your unique ways, each fighting different battles to find a missing piece of yourself. So, if you’re so afraid that being there will trigger the worst parts of you, then I will whisper to you both all the truth you need to hear until you find your way back to me. Back home.”

“You’re my home,” Bucky whispered, caressing her cheek. He dipped his head, his nose caressing Y/N’s. A second passed, and he allowed himself to bask in her warmth, losing himself in the ardency of her love. His lips delicately traced her berry-flavored ones, claiming them against his own. “I love you,” he almost cried, fearing he might lose her. His mouth wrapped around her lower lip, sucking it fervently and inhaling in all the devotion he held toward his girl. “You're my sanctuary, my peace. And I don’t want my own violent dispositions to threaten the home that I’ve built with you.”

“James,” Y/N mumbled breathlessly, tears on the edge of her lashes. She pressed one more fervent kiss against his lips, resting her hand on his heart to remind him once more that he could feel. That he was human. “I love you in all your nuances and dispositions. No matter who you are or who you think you ought to be, you'll always be my home."

Bucky smiled endearingly, taking Y/N’s hand in his. He kissed her knuckles, one by one, before planting his lips on her wrist. With a final glance at her eyes, Bucky led her inside their shared bedroom, relishing in the feeling of her between his arms.

He closed his eyes with the images of her in his mind, forgetting all about Hydra and The Winter Soldier. It was tomorrow’s nightmare, but Y/N was tonight’s dream, and that’s all that mattered.

BUCKY IS BACK!!

I have so many ideas for this man, and we're starting with this short little series. If you're a fan of hurt/comfort and The Winter Soldier coming out to play, welcome to this maze of truths!!

All-Works Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 2 - CHAOS - here!!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #winter soldier!bucky #winter soldier relapse #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction

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firefirefruit · 5 months

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Steel in Her Veins | Table of Contents

Read On: AO3

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Synopsis: Your name is Kozuki Raya, but no one calls you by that name anymore. Using the alias of Tenguyama Raya as advised by your grandfather, you are the descendant of the legendary swordsmith Kotetsu and a distant friend of the Shimotsuki clan. Following in your ancestor’s footsteps, you dedicate your life to the mastery of sword crafting, wielding, and learning. With much of your life being taught by gramps Sukiyaki, you realise that the dormant power, ancient knowledge and ancestral secrets that thrum within your veins start to play a very important role in the way the future world is shaped. Meeting the Straw Hats was not written anywhere within your blueprints, but – most importantly - meeting Roronoa Zoro wasn’t supposed to change the trajectory of your life either.

Table of Contents:

Prologue

Chapter One: What Happens When a Swordsman Meets a Swordsmith?

Chapter Two: All Goop and No Blades

Chapter Three: The Golden Medallion

Chapter Four: A Cyborg, A Skeleton and A Lot of Limbs Walk Into A Shop…

Chapter Five: Oh, Ohara...

Chapter Six: It's Awful, Do It Again.

Chapter Seven: BWING!

Chapter Eight: The One-Eyed Marimooo

Chapter Nine: The Niece of Oden

Chapter Ten: Fight, Flight, Freeze

Chapter Eleven: The Bushido Code

Chapter Twelve: Read Me, But Don't Weep

Chapter Thirteen: A Line in the Sand

Chapter Fourteen: Enigma

Chapter Fifteen: Did You Watch Your Spine Run Away from You, Too?

Chapter Sixteen: Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Chapter Seventeen: Onigiri

Chapter Eighteen: Burn, Demon, Burn

Chapter Nineteen: Daemgar

Chapter Twenty: Minks and Vivre Cards

Chapter Twenty-One: Polar Twwwang

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Doctor Just Pinched Me

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Children of the Beyond

Chapter Twenty-Four: You Want to Come Over and Touch Me, Too?

Chapter Twenty-Five: One More Sword

Chapter Twenty-Six: Simple. Practical. Easy

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Alcohol. Love It or Hate It

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sugar and Spice and Everything... Sooty

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stupid Fucking Plan

Chapter Thirty: Fuck You, Too.

Chapter Thirty-One: Rubber

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Thorned

Chapter Thirty-Three: Sharp Metal, Be Damned

Chapter Thirty-Four: Aragnus

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Surly Monster

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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gevivys (beauty) │ Chapter 2: Meeting

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 │Chapter 9 │Chapter 10 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Daemon returns to King's Landing after ten years in exile, intent on rekindling his affair with Rhaenyra. He wasn't expecting you - the revelation changes everything.

Welcome to the second chapter of my rework! Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs, my slap daddy Ange, for reading through this chapter for me!

TRIGGERS: incest, purity culture, objectification of women, age gap.

For the first time in a decade, Daemon and Rhaenyra sit together and talk.

She pours him wine, and he drinks in the first true taste of home he has had since arriving. Ah, Westerosi strongwine. None of that watered-down Pentoshi shit. She snickers gently at his expression, watching him as he swills the dark liquid around.

“Is it to your liking, Uncle?” she asks teasingly, glancing towards the cradle as she has been over the past few minutes. It is truly a miracle the boy had not stirred while they were engaged in their battle of wills.

“Hm.” He smiles wryly at her. She does know him well, he supposes. “It’s good.”

The brief moment of levity passes. They stare into their cups for a time, not knowing how to move forward. It is Rhaenyra who makes the first move.

“So,” she begins. “That happened.”

He snorts. He has missed her brazenness. “Quite.”

He takes another swig of the wine, relishing in the fullness of the flavour as it bursts across his tongue. It is unlike him to be so reticent, but he is unsure of what to say, how to possibly put into words what he is thinking.

When were you replaced by a stranger, niece? Where is the girl I used to bounce on my knee at feasts? The girl I used to race across the skies, laughing? The headstrong, haughty creature that I would have once called the other half of my spirit?

When did you leave me behind, Rhaenyra?

Where his thoughts are trapped in his mind, swirling fruitlessly with no hope of release, hers are not.

“I think it’s safe to say that won’t ever be happening again,” she says, looking over at him inscrutably.

He sighs, finally making eye contact with her. “No. I suppose not.”

He expects she is right. But it burns him to have spent so long wishing and hoping for something that would never live up to his dreams. There is an adage there, he thinks to himself, about being careful what one wishes for. It seems the fantasy he had conjured up would only ever be that.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. But we aren’t the same people we once were. And I think you know that.”

“I do.” He takes in her appearance almost wistfully.

She really is beautiful. But life had changed their trajectories irrevocably now. She had made a family for herself, had become a mother, had become something more than he’d ever thought her capable of—and he cannot say the same for himself.

“Does he treat you well?” He has to ask her; has to know she is satisfied with her life before he can let her go once and for all.

“Which one?” Rhaenyra laughs suddenly, wickedly. She knows he knows of the rumours, it would seem.

It shocks him from his stupor, and he guffaws lightly in response.

“Either,” he says. “Both.”

She smiles, looks over at the babe again. From what he can see, the boy is a handsome one, dark hair and pale skin and as bonny as any babe fresh to the world is.

“Laenor is a good man. He has never once begrudged me Harwin; sees him as part of us, even”—she narrows her eyes at him as he snorts at her mention of the Strong boy’s name—“and he treats the boys as his own. Calls them ‘fine Velaryon specimens’. You’d think he actually sired them from the way he goes on.”

Daemon’s curiosity and a twisted desire to indulge in self-flagellation prompts him to ask. “That’s all very well and good, but how does he treat you? ”

“He’s my best friend.” Her voice is soft. “I trust him—more than I’ve trusted anyone. I love him, and he loves me, though it is not the love you’d expect between a husband and wife.”

“I’m glad.” He is, though he smarts at the boy’s new designation as his niece’s prized confidant. He had once taken that role in her life, after all. “And the other?”

It surprises him to see his unwavering niece colour bright red. The part of him that loves her purely is warmed to see such delight cross her visage.

“He is good to me.” Her grin as she glances over at baby Joffrey again tells him all he needs to know. “He loves me, Daemon—and I love him, too.” It is as though she is beseeching him to understand why she had forsaken him.

He does not begrudge her for finding love, not after the way he’d left her so bereft. That’d be too cruel, even for him.

“I’m happy for you.”

Though it is a bitter loss, he can find it within himself to be pleased for her. He senses she has something else to add, but that she is hesitant to broach the subject. Searching for a means with which to tease it out of her, he continues the line of discussion.

“Say—did I not hear something about the Strong lad wedding our very own cousin?”

He is taken aback when the flush on her cheeks deepens further, and he leans in anticipatorily as he realises he has struck upon the correct line of inquiry. There’s something suspicious about her shiftiness, about the glow of her skin and the way she cannot hold his gaze for long.

No… It couldn’t be—

“How is Laena?” he asks, prodding, relishing the look of discomfort on her face.

“She is… well,” she replies hastily, “and is preparing to welcome a third child.”

He baits her to the finish, knowing all too well the reason for her prevarication. “Ah—I’m sure your Strong man is pleased.”

Had she not reddened in his own company, once? Had she not fluttered her lashes and smiled with closed lips in that kittenish, secretive manner whenever he dared step too close? Had she not been incapable of staring back at him, flicking her eyes to his for a moment before departing, face flushing ever brighter with each attempt? A Rhaenyra in love is an easy thing to spot, it seems, even after all this time.

He goes in for the kill. “What of you? Equally as delighted?”

“What?” Rhaenyra’s head snaps up, her tone startled. “What does that mean?”

“It’s merely a question, niece; no need to get so upset.” He pauses, gives her a moment to collect herself. “How long have you been bedding her, then?”

He can see that his niece knows there’s no chance of hedging. She sighs, rolls her eyes.

“None of your business” she says, shaking her head as he laughs his victory.

He had not been expecting her to be quite so adventurous, taking man and woman both as her lovers. But then, he is realising ever more clearly that he doesn’t know this woman before him.

What did I awaken that night in the brothel? he wonders.

Suddenly, the door clatters as someone knocks, startling the babe in his cradle. He begins to cry, and Rhaenyra sighs as she makes to get up.

“‘Nyra!” a man’s voice calls through the wood. “You decent?”

She is now, Daemon thinks wryly. An hour ago, perhaps not—he’d had to lace her into a new gown after the mess he’d made of the last.

“Yes!” She is already taking the child in her arms and bouncing him softly to soothe him. “Come in!”

“Do you have any idea where I can find Luke? Or your si—”

Laenor’s speech halts as he takes in the scene before him and the guest he has found in his wife’s chambers.

“Daemon!” He laughs, striding forward to clap him on the back. Daemon rises and does the same, looking over Laenor as he returns the greeting. The past ten years had served him as well as they had served Rhaenyra. “I had wondered where you’d gone!”

“Merely reminiscing with my niece.” Daemon glances over at Rhaenyra. She wears a look of fond annoyance, and he wonders if this is the normal dynamic between them two.

“Try the library—she took him for his lessons earlier, remember?” Rhaenyra answers Laenor’s previous enquiry, returning the now-soothed baby to the cradle. “And really, Laenor; do be careful with that fucking door. You woke Joff up again.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Laenor reaches over the cradle to brush light fingers along the babe’s head.

Daemon is struck by how practised the scene before him is. The realisation that he has missed more than he can possibly comprehend settles in further and further with each moment that passes, with every word that is spoken between his niece and her husband.

Then, he catches up to the conversation properly.

He frowns. “Who took him?”

“My sister,” Rhaenyra brow wrinkles. “You know—your other niece? You’re getting old, Uncle. Your memory’s terrible.”

“I remember her, you silly woman,” Daemon says, arms folding. How the fuck am I supposed to know that was what she meant? “Small thing she was, when I left.”

I will miss you, Uncle. Even now, it twinges.

You had always been small—too small, he’d thought as he held you for the first time, your tiny body nearly lost in the crook of his arm. You were a slight waif of a child, calling to mind the stories of magic and mystery from the shores of times past, from the very fount of Old Valyria. You were his ‘fairy girl’, ready to depart the lands of Westeros for your enchanted homeland at any given moment.

Such irony, it is, that it had been he to leave you.

Laenor cackles, the sound slightly deranged as he shares a glance with Rhaenyra. Daemon frowns, insulted, though he’s unsure what part of his statement is the source of the Velaryon boy’s amusement.

“Believe me, my Prince”—Laenor shakes his head sardonically—“what I would give to hear men call her that and only that, nowadays.”

“Oh, stop it, Laenor.” Rhaenyra smacks his arm chidingly, moving over to refill her goblet of wine. “If you keep that up around her, she’ll find somewhere else to hide and it’ll be that much harder to coax her out.”

“Our little princess not enjoying her royal matchmaking?”

He is intrigued by the facet of knowledge gleaned about you, his precious baby niece, his sweetling. Ah, but how like you to find the notice of others so unsettling, to be so overwhelmed by an influx of attention that you’d slip your minders to seek a place of temporary respite. He assumes the conversation has turned to the news delivered in that last letter, of the fact that you are seeking out a husband—or rather, being made to, as it now seemed. Ire tics strident along his jaw, threatening to grind his teeth into dust.

“Oh, do call her that,” Rhaenyra seats herself once more. “One more patronising pet name and she’s sure to ride off on that great beast of hers, never to return.”

Laenor is laughing once again, sitting in the seat at the head of the table and grimacing as Rhaenyra shoves his feet off the table. Daemon’s focus is drawn by mention of a beast. Last he knew, you’d not yet claimed a dragon.

“… and when you’re older,” he tells you, hand engulfing your own much smaller one, “you’ll go to Dragonstone and find yourself a hatchling, or a young dragon, or perhaps even one of the larger ones.”

“Like you and Caraxes?” you ask, head tilted up to him as you walk, seeking his assurance. “You got him when—when you were thirteen?”

He grins down at you. “That’s right.” Warm fondness wells when you wiggle happily at his approval. “And I’m sure that when you’re of suitable age, you’ll have your own chance.”

“But—but ‘Nyra got Syrax when she was seven,” you protest, stumbling over your sentence. Gods, does he miss the way your small self had pronounced ‘r’ as ‘w’, an adorable lisp that had lent unwitting comedy to all that escaped your mouth. It is strange to hear the words so carefully uttered, the slow shedding of babyhood made evident through speech. “And I am—I’m nearly four. So I have t—”

“So you have time, riñītsos.” He grows weary of your slow pace and hoists you up suddenly. Little girl, he calls you, and you are so, so little in his hold. You squeal at the motion, clinging onto his neck with tiny arms. “Don’t go rushing toward the future just yet.”

Don’t grow up, he wants to say. Don’t lose what makes you so precious to me.

“But I wanna ride a dragon just like ‘Nyra!” you chirp in his ear, high sugared voice ringing like a bell. “I want to be like you!”

He laughs, squeezing you to him. “One day,” he promises. “One day, you’ll claim yourself a mighty beast, and we’ll go flying together—how’s that?”

“Yeah!”

Unease blooms like first frost along the back of his neck, raising the hairs at his nape. Is there no vow he has broken to the girl you had been? What must you think of him now? To have found a dragon without him…

He pursues this line of conversation, eager to learn more.

“Yes, an awful-tempered wild thing she’s named ‘Afizar’ or some such—do get her to pronounce it for you, because I cannot.” At his befuddlement in expression—what does she mean, ‘wild thing’?—Rhaenyra adds, “I’m sure you would have seen it coming in on Caraxes. He’s usually menacing the skies at that time of day.”

The goliath from earlier. “That’s her dragon?” he asks incredulously. “The bastard nearly tore Caraxes from the sky!”

He cannot imagine his shy, guileless little niece claiming such a savage creature as her own mount. Perhaps he’s underestimated her.

“Sounds like him.” Laenor snorts. “Can’t believe she got that fucker to follow her here from Dragonstone. The Cannibal, if you’d believe. Nearly killed the King with fright when she landed it on Rhaenys’s Hill. Thought he was going to lock her up for the next five years.”

“He nearly did,” Rhaenyra says. “Except, after the beast ate several Dragonkeepers, the only one who could get him to calm down was her.”

The Cannibal? Seven fucking hells. So few had gotten close enough to see the beast in any detail, so it’s no wonder he’d not recognised the dragon earlier. He wonders idly if he can persuade you to introduce him. To be so close to such a force of nature…

“Well.” Laenor stands, pressing an absent-minded kiss to the top of Rhaenyra’s head. “I’d best be off—Luke has training before it gets dark.”

He heads to the door, straightening up his doublet, which has rumpled from the slouch he had been sitting in.

Rhaenyra calls to him as he shuts the door. “Make sure that those boys don’t beat him around like they did the last time!”

He makes an affirmative noise as it closes; his niece sighs at the firestorm Laenor has taken with him as he departed, leaning her head onto the back of the chair and closing her eyes.

He sees now what she has made here, the laughter that has brought lines to the corners of her eyes and the love that pervades the interactions she has with those she cares for. His heart clenches in mourning for the life he missed, the life he will never have with her. They were once reflections of each other. Now, they are strangers, memories to take forth into a new existence. He wants to be bitter, angry, resentful—but he just feels drained. Carved out. Empty. All those years wasted…

“I’d best be going,” he says softly, feet already carrying him to the door.

She murmurs something at him, too low for his hearing to pick up. He turns to face her. She’s smiling at him, though it’s a sad, wistful thing.

“I’ll see you around, Uncle.”

His mouth twists up dryly, accepting the closure as given. She’s beautiful in her wisdom, her maturity, but she’s not his—not anymore.

“I’ll see you around, niece.” He shuts the door on her. On the past.

It is an ending. He can only hope that a new beginning lay somewhere around a nearby corner, waiting to give him a reason once more.

Well—when he said he was looking for something new, he wasn’t expecting it to smack him clean across the fucking jaw quite so suddenly as this.

Daemon spends the next days idly wandering the halls, lost in thought as he considers all that had transpired between him and Rhaenyra. He wars at times between white-hot rage at what has been lost to him and the melancholy of knowing that it—she—was never truly his for the taking in the first place. It strikes him that he might relieve the strain that pulls at his mind and stiffens his joints by frequenting one of his old haunts; but then, he’s not entirely sure he has it in him to sustain his lusts long enough to spill his seed in some nameless whore’s cunt.

A royal gift for the commons to mark my return. The notion amuses him.

Today is much the same—same old bejewelled sycophants looking for leverage with the King and Council, same old perfumed halls barely concealing the ever-present stink of shit, same old serving girls and page boys darting off at the very sight of him, like he is a plague to be outrun—until it is not. The endless monotony is interrupted when he catches the metallic glint of a finely polished breastplate in the sun.

Speaking of shits…

Squinting, he looks across the way to see the staid figure of Ser Cole, Crispin or Colin or whatever his name was. Beating in a knight’s head at a royal wedding wasn’t enough to get the man exiled? he wonders, dubious. The man is standing at the entrance to the garden, staring watchfully in at its occupants, and Daemon can hear the sounds of light chatter and laughter. What the fuck?

Daemon is striding toward the Kingsguard before common sense can rein him in.

“Still here, Cole?” he asks, enjoying the look of thinly veiled vehemence on the Stormlander’s visage. “I’d have thought you’d be an exile after the little stunt you pulled at Rhaenyra’s wedding.”

He relishes in the further lines of tension that spread across his face. Perhaps the only enjoyable part of that day had been watching the knight slay a royal guest during festivities, in front of all and sundry. It was remarkably transparent of him—what man didn’t desire his eldest niece? He wonders if she’d bothered to let him into her cunt, or if he was still pining pathetically.

He refuses to consider the potential that such a thing would make them more similar than different.

“The Queen was charitable enough to advocate for my continued presence, my Prince.” The knight narrows his eyes at him. “Unlike some, I was seen to have use yet.”

Daemon cannot help it. He laughs, impressed and infuriated and enraged by this juvenile upstart from some little-known region of Westeros. Who does he think he is?

“And indeed, you are! A fine guard, truly—of a tree.”

“I am the Princess’s sworn shield,” Cole says hotly before catching himself, reining himself in. The man exhales and returns to that vacant, accommodating stance that had first tickled Daemon with enough amusement that he felt it worth venturing over to have fun.

“How interesting.” Daemon steps closer to the man, forcing him to look up into his line of sight. ‘Tis an exercise of dominance if there ever was one. “I seem to recall you had sworn yourself to the elder one, not the younger; Rhaenyra is safely up in her chambers now.”

For whom else could Ser Cristian mean if not you, his little girl?

In three days, he had yet to encounter you. Always there is an excuse presented via messenger to the expectant ears of the King at mealtimes. Whether it be tutoring, minding your nephews and littlest brothers, or simply nowhere to be found, you are a whisper on the wind, a person in name only. If it were not for the frequent mentions of you made in casual conversation across the Keep, he would think you did not exist at all.

Cole smiles tensely. “Allegiances change.”

Daemon quirks a brow at the admission, not having expected such a sentimental acknowledgement from the knight. A change of loyalty, eh? Well, he shall have to see what it is that has turned Caradoc’s head so. Stepping away from the guard with a mocking little twist of the lips, he treads forward into the garden.

What had long been a place of silent contemplation is now alight with the sound of merriment. A group of young ladies all sit about on laid-out furs, giggling over grapes and sweet-wine. It is an endearing display of girlish delight that would have made any other man smile at the scene before him. Daemon is not other men. Staring upon the scene, he wonders darkly at just how many of them he could persuade to let him slip a hand into their smallclothes, to pry apart their coltish thighs, to wet his cock on their maiden’s blood and hear them scream.

He snorts at the thought. Knowing King’s Landing, I’d wager at least half of these girls have already trysted with some man or another.

He rolls his eyes at the sight of that crotchety old Septa—Marlow, was it?—the very same wretch to have ruled Rhaenyra’s childhood household with an iron fist and stern voice, sitting undercover with a silver-haired girl. At first, he thinks this is you. But upon looking at her closer, he sees the Hightower bitch pasted over Valyrian colouring, limbs too long and spindly, not as comely as your little-girl self had promised to be.

Wrinkling his nose slightly, he realises this must be the smaller one. Helen? Helaenys? He cannot think of her name, and nor does he care to know it. Casting his eye across the landscape, he frowns as he fails to see the form of a second silver-haired girl.

“Your Highness!”

Ah, fuck, his mind supplies. The old sow has seen me.

The hag’s eyes are upon him disapprovingly, and it pleases him wryly that he can at least count upon her to remain unchanged by time. Septa Marlow had never liked him, had constantly reproved Rhaenyra for being taken in by his gifts, his attentions, his flattery. He supposes she was right to be so concerned for her naïve charge.

“You have returned.” She sounds disappointed.

“Septa,” he says, bowing to her, though he’s sure the derisiveness of the movement is not lost upon her. There it is—her eyes narrow, lips pursing as she glares at him disfavourably. The young one tracks the interaction with a tilt to her head, wondering just who had come to disturb the peace of the afternoon. “It is truly a delight to see you once again.” Old cunt.

“Hm.” She turns back to the young girl before her.

No doubt proselytising about the dangers of letting a reprobate like me see so much as a slip of an ankle beneath her skirts, he thinks scornfully.

Once it is clear that is all he will get out of the old bitch, he wanders further into the garden. He smirks in an affectation of gentility as the girls whisper to themselves, staring at him, likely plotting their way into his line of sight.

As he passes the shade of the tree, he receives his first glimpse of you in ten years.

You are laid outstretched on the bare grass in a pretty summer gown of pale violet, so like the gown you’d worn that night, the night he’d left you, and your legs are folded at the ankle. He can see the limbs twine through your skirts, the barest hint of calf and thigh contoured by the dip in the layers of silken fabric, and your wild pale hair—that same untameable mess, artful now where it had been unsophisticated once—spills carelessly in a halo about your head. Your eyes are closed, your smile tipped up to the warming sun, your once-cherubic face lengthened, defined. He tracks the familiar slope of your nose, the arch of newly unveiled cheekbones and plumped lips, a red-mouthed nymphet of a girl become a woman in his absence.

Fucking—fucking fuck—

He cannot stop himself from studying you, tracing the curve of your bared neck—and why is the sight so obscene, gods help him—the spill of your tits regrettably encased in the cut of your gown and the way your little hands clasp together in chaste repose under your bust, highlighting the blooming of your body.

The sight exhilarates him. It devastates him. Who the fuck is this—this Maiden come to life, this princess-shaped, doe-eyed dream of a girl? Certainly not the child he had left behind, for there is nothing gangling or babyish about you now. He is utterly annoyed with himself at having expected some flat-chested, androgynous approximation of that little girl grown up.

He calls your name, and your startled head whips to face him directly. Your eyes open and widen in shock and confusion, a quizzical furrowing of brows disturbing the peace that had smoothed your expression only moments before. You sit up further as he advances towards you, making no move to leap up from your place situated below him. ‘Tis a place for gullible girls with pillow-soft lips and pink little tongues held out in prayer, begging to lap up his milk—but you only stare up at him, an utter lack of comprehension on your face. It is then that he knows, as only a man who’d stolen the virtue of half the ingenues now selling their wares in the Street of Silk could know.

How could he have stayed away for so long when an unspoiled prize such as you awaited a conqueror to snatch her up, to teach her what pleasures could be found in defeat?

How could he have stayed away when you—his littlest princess—awaited your beloved kepa?

“Hello, sweetling,” he says, crouching down beside you.

He feels a vicious sense of satisfaction when your brows uncurl, wet posy-petal lips unfurling into an open-mouthed expression of awareness as you recognise the sound of him, take in the ashen hue of his hair and the long-forgotten features that comprise a familiar face.

“Uncle Daemon?” you ask softly.

Uncle Daemon… you promised. Two images are affixed in his mind’s eye, the you of the past and the you before him now, warping and blending confusingly. It alarms him—excites him—to feel the twitch of his cock in his breeches. How can he debase an affection so pure as the one he bears for you?

And yet—as he looks upon you—how can he not?

Self-reproach stirs in his gut as he takes in the slow-dawning smile upon your face, the look of a little girl who’s favourite long-distant uncle has finally come home.

“I did not know you had returned!” you breathe.

Daemon shifts to sit before you properly, gaze roving. He takes in the tumble of Valyrian-white spilling from your crown, the dusky lavender-bruise of your eyelids, the cinch at your waist and all that damnable skin begging for hands to map its surface.

How did you not know? he wonders. It is surely all the city had been gossiping of since his homecoming.

This is not what he chooses to say. “I did not announce my arrival.”

You nod an acknowledgement, humming gently. Then, your eyes—deep lilac, soft, the same as they had ever been—flick to his. “You have been gone for so long, Uncle.”

A wistful sort of sadness, wrenching, steals the insistence from your voice. All at once, your expression is an echo of the forlorn girl he’d all but abandoned in the chill of evening, wide wet stare and trembling bottom lip and flushed nose, though the present display incites an unnerving pulse of—something—in his lower back, in his groin.

Your words speak to a greater loss than just his absence. Who has taken care of you since I left, my girl?

There is an ever-growing inkling taking shape in the back of his mind that you’ve been as terribly isolated as he has been all these years. Any other possibility seems daft upon reflection. With naught to yourself but a sister and father with their own new families and an old Septa to punish your desire before it is even allowed to spring into fruition, how could you have been anything other than bereft?

“It seems I have.” Though Daemon rails at the injustice of it, of a world in which you had not received every little thing you wanted, his taste for debauchery rules him. Helplessly, his scrutiny falls again to the figure below the face. He spies the hint of a collarbone as it peeks out from under an irritatingly high neckline, the darling swell of tits playing at the game of adulthood before they have been invited to the gathering, the flare of hips shrouded in damnable silks and satins. “You were a little girl when I left. Look at you now!”

At that, you laugh. “I still am.” You smile. “I am not so changed, really.”

He cannot resist but to picture that very same smile, lips wide-stretched and exhilarated as your downy-soft cheek nuzzles between his legs like a cat seeking cream. Little girl, little pet, you could be as guileless as you’d like on your knees, wide-eyed ‘kepus?’ as he tugs his laces undone to reveal his—

Fuck’s sake. He swallows, yanks back the tidal wave.

“Surely not.” His eyes rove again over you, uncontrollable, his hand reaching out to tuck the hair behind your ear before he has truly thought it through. “There’s not a trace of ‘little’ before me, talītsos”—the old pet name springs out unbidden—“but a woman grown!”

The turn of conversation—the turn in his behaviour—makes you uncomfortable. He can tell from the way your shoulders stiffen and your spine straightens, from the way you break eye contact with him and shift away ever so slightly, from the pretty peevish set of your rosebud mouth.

“You know, then? What I have been asked by Papa?”

In this, he sees Rhaenyra—the unwillingness to hedge, the direct line of pursuit—though the uneasiness is new. So too is the lack of delight at the pronouncement; it is the greatest wish of all young ladies to be perceived as mature, coveted, worthy of the attention of men. He knows this from experience. And yet, it seems you crave existence of another kind, a wish for anonymity most unlike the spoiled haughtiness of the highborn.

Strange.

It is frustrating, too, to be countered so early in the game of desire. He’d never had to coax out a maiden for long, the allure of his exterior qualities and his princely title and his roguish charm making even the most pious of virgins a willing whore without much work. He had certainly never had to lead Rhaenyra much, for she was all too eager to follow him to the darkness.

A small part of him is raging at the larger, how could you disgrace her so, how could you ply her with your cad’s tricks, but it is growing ever easier to ignore it. The temptation is too great.

“He mentioned it,” Daemon chuckles at the twitch your eye makes at the knowledge. This is different, a concrete evolution that helps ground him in reality, helps him resist the call of memory and the child you’d been. “Why—are your suitors so terrible?”

You sigh, looking down, twisting your hands in the skirts of your dress the way you did as a child. Like it had been when he’d first set sights on your elder sister, he finds that the comparison is becoming less and less disturbing. A moment to grow accustomed to the idea, he thinks, that is all. Child become woman become lover—it is practically a rite of passage for Targaryens to find their way into the beds of their own kin.

Could I? Dare I? As he stares at you, he finds he knows not.

You glance down at your lap. “I do not thi—”

“Princess!” the Septa calls, interrupting you.

Daemon’s gaze settles on her, the drab crone herself, face like thunder as she watches you both from the path. Her hand is out, ushering you forth. Like a marionette whose strings are being jerked, you stumble to your feet, brush the grass from your skirts—revealing the shape of your arse, and if that doesn’t set off a fresh round of depraved musings—and make for your minder, heeding the call as faithfully as any hound.

Then, you turn back. “Oh!”

You look to him startled, as though something has just occurred to you. You plod back up the hill as if on tiptoes, dainty, dropping to his side. Before his foul thoughts have the opportunity to register such a boon, you press your lips to his cheek, a whisper of “farewell, kepus” and the faint scent of rose oil heralding your departure.

In your absence, his head hurts, catastrophic in the wake of such momentous overhaul. He slumps on the grass, staring off into the distance, disoriented by the revelation of you.

Well. Fuck.

Read the story on AO3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42100623/chapters/105793659

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exhuastedpigeon · 5 months

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it hurts to hope for more

Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz Mature || 15k

“I’m never - I’m never going to be a dad,” Buck sobs into Eddie’s shoulder. “She didn’t want kids. Why do I keep dating people who don’t want the same things as me? Is- is the universe telling me that I don’t deserve it?” “Hey, no,” Eddie pulls back from the hug and Buck lets out a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. “The universe doesn’t do that. The universe doesn’t scream and it definitely doesn’t get to tell you what you deserve, because you deserve everything Buck. Everything.” OR Buck wants to be a dad, it takes a couple break-ups and a major non-romantic heartbreak for him to figure out that maybe he already is.

2023 was a weird year for Buck. Maybe one of the weirdest years he’s had in his 30 plus years on earth, if he’s being honest with himself. He died, he lived, he delivered a baby that was biologically his but not his in any other way, he pulled most of his team - his family - out of a bridge collapse, and he finally met someone who he can see himself with long term if things keep on their current trajectory.

Natalia is the first woman that Buck’s dated since Abby that makes him feel seen, that makes him feel like a better version of himself. But unlike with Abby, Buck has other people in his life that also make him feel loved and seen, so he’s less dependent on Nat for all of his emotional support. If he’s being honest, he’s kind of avoiding relying on her for too much emotional support since he doesn’t want her to think he’s needy.

Honestly, for a guy who was dead for just over three minutes four months ago, he’s doing fucking great.

He’s doing so great that getting a picture of a tiny baby laying on one of those mats with ‘one month’ circled and a gummy little smile wearing a tiny firefighter onesie that he’d given them as a gift, it doesn’t break his heart. In fact, the picture from Connor just makes Buck grin at his phone.

Continue on ao3

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie 911 #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz #TW abortion #discussions of abortion

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bunnakit · 5 months

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last twilight ep 7 thoughts, feelings, etc

ALRIGHT i ran my errands, caught up on pit babe and playboyy to relax, and now i'm doing my speedwatch. i took some notes while watching the first time and they're a fucking MESS but hopefully they help me remember everything i want to comment on because without fail i always forget something.

you'll all be glad to know this week's meta bullshit from me is far, far less romantic and wistful than last weeks. you've all been spared by my adhd brain not being able to piece together a single poetic thought.

i kind of knew from this moment the trajectory the episode would take. Day is clearly nervous but not defensive - this isn't out of the realm of something Mhok would do for him but with recent context it probably feels fairly intimate. i think this was a really good indicator of what we're in for.

there's a collection of sunflowers in Day's room, tucked away in the corner, not unlike Mhok tucking away his feelings for Day's comfort. the poor things are shrouded in shadow, away from the light. the pain is unending and forever.

Day's flashback to the kiss has me curious. his eyes are closed so he's not even thinking back to seeing what he can of Mhok up close. as he reminisces about this kiss is he simply remembering the sensation of Mhok's lips on his own? how his hands curled into Mhok's jacket? and i'm sure we've all seen the post but - was he thinking of the way Mhok tasted like cigarettes? this isn't to romanticize his disability, i'm just genuinely wondering what exactly he's drawing on here in this moment, because it's clearly something significant to him.

Porjai just keeps getting prettier every episode and it's making me insane. i just think i should be allowed to take care of her.

"I'm jealous of Day's ability to make you smile."

this makes me think Mhok's smiles have been few and far between, and maybe Porjai has been looking to bring out that smile for a long time. does she ever worry that maybe someday Mhok could end up like Rung? does she worry about finding him too?

oh i so very badly want the context for this, i want to know everything. but also, it's really not that surprising. not when we've seen the things Mhok has done for Day. Mhok lives his life in extremes; anger, kindness, protectiveness, his work, etc. everything Mhok does he puts his whole self into it and it's nice to see his love is no different, because why would it be?

i'm once again in awe of what P'Aof has done with Mhok and Porjai, though. they live together so easily and naturally. there's nothing strange or awkward about it, just two people surviving life together. it's such a breath of fresh air.

Day just cannot catch a break when it comes to August. this has to hurt so fucking badly, the pity has to feel amplified by 1000. not only was August trying to force himself to like Day back because he's blind, but also because he was thinking of leaving. Day is a stronger man than me because i would be frothing at the mouth pissed.

but once again, Mhok doesn't let Day stew in his fish tank. he encourages him to go out and resolve his feelings, even if that means screaming at August and letting out all his hurt and frustration. he's seen what happens when Day lets his hurt fester and he won't let it happen again, not while he's around.

"He's a lot stronger than I thought. It's me who's so weak that I let him down."

as much as August pisses me off, i do think this is him realizing his pity was misplaced, and he failed Day in that way, so he gets some redemption points here. (still think he's a stinky bastard man tho)

the immediate distance Mhok puts between himself and the group never fails to hurt my heart. i get it, he's there for a job, but their relationship has progressed past that - now even moreso, and i cant help but wonder if this is his attempt at keeping a distance, curbing his expectations, reminding himself that while his role is to be by Day's side it's only in a professional capacity.

i love that Gee acknowledges him with a little head nod, occasionally looks in Mhok's direction as if to include him, she's just - ugh - i love all the women in this show so fucking much. i just wish someone would invite Mhok over sometime, encourage him to join the conversation (like they did back at the party.)

sometimes Mhok really is the embodiment of a shadow - both of Day and of his former self (for good or bad.)

(he looks so fucking sexy leaning like that with his shirt tucked into his pants tho, whew.)

Gee also becomes one of my favorite people for asking Day to take the photo of all of them. she just gets it, she includes him, she doesn't act like he can't do things, she even insists he can, she's just !!! the women of all time in this show i swear!!! I LOVE WOMEN!!!!

also the "you don't drink coffee, girl spill the tea" from Gee is just so good. she knows a diversion tactic when she sees one.

i want this expression framed, she's so cute, HELP.

i wish i had the time and energy today to make gifs for this week but ugh. the journey Mhok's face went on here to end up at quiet resignation. because he did figure. someone like Day? with someone like him? because we know Mhok's opinion of himself isn't great, largely influenced by his incarceration and reintegration into society, i'm sure, along with his guilt. but there had been that little bud of hope, a little sunflower seed that had bloomed just a little too far, reached for the sun a little too much. it must feel like a weed in his chest.

the way Day says 'here' so softly, with so much vulnerability made me feel like screaming. he doesn't know what his feelings are for Mhok yet (you can't tell me he doesn't feel anything) but he knows he doesn't want to lose Mhok and the sudden idea of it is terrifying. Mhok is the only person that really understands him, one of the only people he's comfortable around anymore, and he can't lose that. he doesn't want to go back to the dirty fish tank.

i also think this was an indicator to Mhok that maybe Day doesn't know how he feels, and maybe he can get away with flirting in tiny, subtle ways because from here on his secret flirting game is in full effect and it's so fucking cute. he's careful not to completely push past Day boundaries, but to test them in gentle ways.

THE SHOES MY BELOVEDS. we all know what i feel about these shoes after last week and i'm so glad to see all of my stupid babbling confirmed here. i love that Mhok constantly mends things instead of throwing them away. the sentimentality of items means something to Mhok and we love him for that.

we also got a proper 'sweet dreams' this episode, finally!! thank you subbers!

so many shots of feet this ep tho and lemme tell you as someone that HATES feet, this was rough.

oh you are so smitten. Day realizing Mhok is warm, warm in his own way, warm in such a gentle and understated way. UGH. you would've thought he knew after everything they've been through but sometimes people need a reminder and maybe something to drive them to pay closer attention. our boy is BESOTTED. kicking his feet and giggling. i think this is the happiest we've ever seen him.

so here's where i'm probably going to wax poetic the most. Mhok is finally opening up to Day in such an incredible way. he brings Day to his home with no fear of pity or judgement. he brings him into this sanctuary created by him, his sister, and Porjai and he cooks for him and cares for him and in letting him in Day sees even more how impossibly warm Mhok is.

what's even greater is there isn't a single moment where Day is jealous or questions Porjai being there. Mhok has told him she's expecting and he's never weird about it, just kind and understanding and it's all so normalized, it's fucking beautiful. Day even takes the time to encourage Porjai, to share about his mom, and about the strength it takes to be a single mom. P'Aof i adore you.

Mhok has planted jasmine simply because he knows Day likes it, and maybe now he likes it too. and he brings Last Twilight home to practice reading (i'd always wondered how he managed to read without stumbling over himself lmao) and he's done it so much that now Porjai wants to name their child Mee, wants to create this connection to Day forever.

and once prompted, once Day knows enough to ask, Mhok opens up about Rung, talks about her more. Day comments on the warmth of the house, something started by Rung and cultivated by Mhok. it would be so easy for the house to feel cold and clinical, especially knowing what happened here, but Mhok has kept it a home - warm, inviting, comforting - all the things Mhok has been to Day.

the noises took me by fuckin' surprise tho, i genuinely looked around my house like who the fuck is making all that noise and then i was like OH THOSE ARE-- OKAY--

and I know people are like haha P'Aof has a scent kink but like. idk. maybe it's just me but scents are something i'm drawn to. i remember the way someone smelled more than i remember their face. i recently took a shirt out of my closet and immediately started crying. it smelled like face powder and perfume. it smelled like my grandma. the leather jacket pushed to the side smells like cigarettes and horses, like my dad always did.

scent is such an ingrained memory, something that is so hard for our brains to let go of. every time i get a familiar smell it knocks me on my ass, and i'm so glad to see some of this represented in these shows.

this absolutely warmed my heart. whatever is going on with Night and Day is clearly more on Day's side than anything else. Night clearly loves his brother and i'm just fucking DYING to know what is going on that is causing Day to drive a wedge between them. sure, Night hasn't been perfect, but there's love there and that counts for so much.

and what exactly are you doing here??? this is a charity run for blindness - does he know someone that is blind other than Day? did meeting Day inspire him to participate? has he spent time talking to Mhok about Day and maybe the difficulties of his blindness? i am filled with questions but i love this character so much, he's just so kind.

Day's hesitation to cross the finish line was also something i found so interesting. it felt long, possibly too drawn out, but Day needed to think, needed time to understand that if he crosses that finish line, if he accepts Mhok's request to be his boyfriend, their lives will never go back to how they were. things between them will change forever, whether the relationship is a success or otherwise. it's an incredibly mature thing of Day to do, even if it felt a little lengthy for us, the audience.

i strongly believe that in addition to Mhok Porjai is going to be a big driving force in Night and Day's reconciliation. i would love to see Porjai gain Night's side of the story, Mhok gain Day's side of the story, and the two of them working together to see how they can reunite these brothers.

also if i had a nickle for every time P'Aof paired Mark with a pregnant woman in his shows i'd have two nickles, which isn't a lot but it's interesting it has happened twice.

while i, like everyone else, hope the mock proposal is a parallel we get to see later i want to focus more on this moment.

i forget who said it, it's long gone to the depths of my dash by now, but someone commented that disabilities do not stop for love, and fuck is that so true. i love Mhok's concern, his immediate reaction to soothe, and the way he seems to feel Day's fear as his own. and poor Day, he can't even enjoy this moment of bliss with Mhok because of course, of course something like this had to happen. it's so fucking real in the way Last Twilight has been this entire time.

the constant excellent representation of disabled living has been incredible to see, i've seen so much of myself in this show (even though my disability is so very different) and it's been like a warm blanket put over very single comment: you're too young to be disabled, you aren't THAT disabled, you're being dramatic, etc.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you P'Aof and team.

tag loves: @benkaaoi @callipigio @infinitelyprecious (as always tell me if you want to be added {for LT only or all meta} or removed!)

#bunn meta #last twilight #last twilight the series #mhokday #morkday #userjamiec #im soooo fuckin sleepy after making this but i still have to work #someone come make me tea and gimme a little kith

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thefallennightmare · 3 months

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Fika-Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson: 1/2

*made by @madomens. check her out!*

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Joakim 'Jolly' Karlsson x OFC.

Warnings: some angst, swearing, lots of fluff, smut, mentions of death.

Summary: To appease her dying father’s wishes, Astrid takes over the family coffee shop: Fïka. Plans to restore it to its former glory: setting her dreams and ambitions aside- that is until she meets an unexpected stranger. This very stranger changes the trajectory of her life.

Authors Note: Ok what originally was a 26k word one shot is now a two parter! I have the link to part two at the bottom of this one! Enjoy my lovelies. I hope you all enjoy my first time writing Jolly. Oh, make sure you all pay attention closely to this 😏 It took me a month to write this btw.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @somewhere-diamond @concreteemo @ladispo0p @to-be-written @lilmonster218 @whenthesummerdies @lizzieseveride @blackveilomens @malice-ov-mercy @lma1986 @klutzy-kay24 @baddestomens @cncohshit @jilliemiw86 @cookiesupplier

ASTRID

“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled while struggling to carry the large and heavy box from the stockroom up to the front area of the cafe.

Another curse fell from my lips as I nearly tripped over the discarded and broken coffee machine that I seemed to have forgotten was lying on the floor. Then when I walked past the break room where two of my employees were enjoying their break, one of them waved me over.

“Yes?” I grunted while pausing for a moment, still carrying the large box.

“The turbo oven is doing that thing again where it either burns the food or doesn't cook it at all,” Jessica said with a frown. “Any idea when the new one is supposed to come in?”

I nodded towards the box. “Two steps ahead of you.”

As I went to push myself through the door that encased the back of the cafe from the front, my other employee, Sean, yelled after me.

“The front door is getting stuck again! Can you WD20 it again?!”

“IT’S WD40!” I yelled back.

Pushing my way through the door, I felt the box beginning to slip between my sweaty fingers and I quickly walked over to the front counter, letting it fall onto it with a loud thud.

Curious eyes from the few customers landed on me and I smiled sheepishly while shrugging. “Sorry.”

“Uh, Astrid?”

Whirling around, I brushed away strands of my white hair to see another one of my employees standing in front of me with an apologetic face.

“Oh no,” I shook my head. “What’s broken now?”

“The sink in the restroom is slow to drain and we’re running low on cold foam,” Tori said with her hands behind her back.

“Low? How?! We’ve only been open a week and that stock was supposed to last us at least three!” I exclaimed with a high squeaky voice; one that only showed when I was stressed.

“Sean doesn't understand the measurements,” Tori sighed. “I’ve gone over the sheet with him like four times but he still doesn’t get it.”

Running my hands over my face, I let out a deep and calming breath, which seemed to help until the front door rattled before being thrown open, almost smacking against the black brick.

“Jeez, you should really get this door checked out.”

Whirling around on my heels with a low scowl, I was ready to lay into this person because frankly, it was one thing after the other and I’ve fucking had it. But when I took in the appearance of these two guys, I quickly shook my head, heart dropping into my stomach.

“You guys aren’t supposed to be here until after closing!”

There’s that high-pitched voice again.

“Yeah well,” the guy carrying a bucket and paintbrush shrugged. “We finished our other job early so we thought we could get started here.”

I hired this local paint company to paint the tallest wall inside the cafe only because I didn’t have a tall enough ladder to reach the highest point. I painted everything else but didn’t want to bother with this one; it was right in the middle of the cafe lobby.

“No, that’s not going to work,” I walked around the counter so I could stand face-to-face with this guy. “I have customers and I can’t have you paint while they’re in here.”

“Listen, lady, all due respect-.”

I craned my neck to the side and let out a low hiss. “I fucking hate when people say that.”

The two painters shared a look before the one who seemed to be in charge raised a brow. “What?”

“Typically when people say all due respect, it’s rarely followed by a respectful remark,” I said with my arms crossed.

“Did you want us to paint this wall or not?” The guy who had been silent spoke.

I snapped my eyes over to him. “Do you want my money or not?”

That seemed to have shut both of them up but my hands were still shaking as my heart was hammering hard in my chest. Ever since we opened this morning, it seemed like it was problem after problem.

Why the fuck did I agree to take over this place?

Because it was your father's cafe and his father’s before him. You promised you’d take care of it when he passed.

Running a tattooed hand through my long hair, I let out a deep breath. “I closed at nine. Can you come back then?”

The one painter shook his head. “Nope. We don’t work that late.”

Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was barely one in the afternoon, and with less than eight hours left, I had to make a decision quickly.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I eventually nodded. “Fine, you can start now. But please, be respectful of my customers.”

There were only three customers in here currently, a total of six since we opened at nine a.m., but I didn’t dare let them know.

Leaving them to do their work, I let the heels of my combat boots thud against the aging wood floors as I walked back behind the counter to go over the mental checklist of my list.

Unclog the bathroom sink.

Order more cold foam.

Personally show Sean the correct measurements.

WD40 the front door.

Set up the new turbo oven.

Quickly tying my hair into a braid, I set to work on the list. Had I known the amount of work and updating this cafe needed before I took it over from my father, I would have said no. I was twenty-five years old and had the rest of my life ahead of me, I didn’t want to be stuck trying to keep this place above water.

Fika first opened sixty years ago when my grandparents came to the United States for an opportunity for a better life. From day one it was a music-themed cafe where they had live music nights every Friday. It succeeded well after they left it to my father when they retired. He hated the live music nights so as soon as he took over, he axed that idea.

However, when my father got sick about five years ago, that’s when everything went to shit.

I grew up inside of these walls and saw the stress it brought on my parents until they divorced when I was twelve. My mother wanted nothing to do with this place, claiming it was cursed, so she left.

My father did his best to raise me solo while trying to run this cafe full-time. I would help out when I could; be here in the morning before school then here right away after school until closing. I would sit in the corner booth in front of the window to do my homework in between bussing tables. It was like that every day until I turned eighteen and went off to college.

But any weekend I could, I’d be right back here to help my father out. Then when he got sick five years ago, I dropped out of college so I could stay home full-time to take care of him. He was in this place every single day until the day he died a few months ago. It didn’t make a lot of money the last few years so not only did he leave me the cafe, he also left me all of the debt. I wasn’t drowning in it, I still have a decent amount in savings to at least update it but not enough to create a living.

So that was why I had put the word out that it was for sale if anyone wanted to purchase it. I needed the money to pay off my father's debts and at least survive the next few years until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.

With a groan, I stood slowly from my crouched position as I finished fixing the front door and smiled in victory when it didn’t stick. It was after three in the afternoon and peering over my shoulder, I noticed that the painters were finishing up the now black wall and I had to admit, I felt giddy when I saw my vision slowly coming to life.

I had a red neon sign that read Fika and I planned on hanging it up on that wall and then hanging a bunch of different guitars around it; my grandfather’s favorite on full display.

Yes, I did have plans to eventually sell the cafe but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy getting it to where I envisioned it.

Wiping my hands on the back of my black jeans, I set to work on reading the manual for the new turbo oven, wanting to make sure that I understood every aspect of it to show my employees.

“Hi! Welcome to Fika!”

Jessica’s cheery voice greeted a new customer who stepped inside, the little bell that hung above the door ringing. It was a special bell, my grandparents brought it with them when they moved here. It hung up in that same spot for the last sixty years and I planned on taking it with me if this place ever sold.

I paid no mind as I focused on now setting up the turbo oven in its new spot on the back counter.

“Uh, Astrid?”

My shoulders slumped at hearing Jessica’s wavering voice from behind me. I didn’t bother turning around; not yet. Maybe it was a simple fix that she could handle on her own.

“Yes?” I answered while wiping down the new oven.

“The credit card machine isn’t working,” Jessica now stood in the side of my vision so I had no choice but to turn towards her.

“I swear if my hair wasn’t already white, the stress of today would have given me gray hairs,” I joked with a faint smile as I turned toward the register.

My eyes were cast downward to the small white credit card machine, not bothering to gaze up at the customer.

“It’s working fine,” I showed Jessica. “You just have to remember to type in the total before hitting payment.”

“OH! Makes sense,” she squeezed my arm. “Sorry.”

I waved her off. “It’s fine. It’s a new machine so it will take some getting used to. I’ll ring him up if you want to start on his order?”

With a nod, Jessica scurried off to make the drink as I finally gave the person on the other side of the counter my attention.

“Hi, it’ll be $3.25.”

However, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of the man in front of me. Dark amber eyes shined back at me, long strands of even darker hair cast around his face, and his pink, plump lips curled up into a faint smile. The facial hair that encased around those lips made my stomach twinge in the best way and when I caught sight of the small nose ring, I nearly fell to my knees.

It wasn’t until I saw the black card in front of my face that I snapped out of my ogling and took it with a blush covering my cheeks.

Ringing him up, I handed back his card with a slight waver in my hand but ended up dropping it on the counter before he had the chance to grab it.

“Shit,” I cursed as I went to reach for it but ended up knocking over the small tip jar, coins spilling over the counter.

“Fucking perfect!” I groaned while throwing my head back.

Could this day get any worse?

An older couple that was sitting on the stools at the bar a few spaces down from me gave me an ice-cold glare.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to curse,” I apologized with a fake smile.

Even though I never watched my mouth around anyone, I couldn’t risk scaring off customers because of my vulgar words.

I made fast work of picking up the spilled change and placed it back in the jar before looking up at the man through my lashes.

“That will be up soon,” I cleared my throat.

The man smiled, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of my face. “Thank you.”

Oh fuck.

Those two words alone made my cheeks deepen even more in a shade of crimson because there was a hint of an accent to them. I couldn’t place it but it sounded heavenly to my ears.

Turning swiftly on my heels, I scurried to the back, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of him anymore.

About an hour later after catching up on all the office work I had, I ventured back up to the front of the cafe when I was told the painters had finished and were waiting for a check.

“We’re all finished, ma’am,” the older painter said with a thin-lined smile.

My own matched his when I handed him the check. “Thank you. It looks great.”

He went to leave but slowly turned around. “Fika? What does that mean?”

I broke out into a genuine smile when the memory of my grandma telling me why she named this place came creeping into my mind.

“It's Swedish. It essentially means coffee break,” I answered while pulling my black cardigan closer to me.

As the painters left, I turned to my right to look up at the freshly painted wall and kept smiling.

“Looks good.”

Looking over my shoulder, I nodded to Tori. “I’m just glad they managed to stay out of customers' way.”

“Speaking of customers,” Tori smirked while pulling me closer; she was fresh out of high school and any chance she had to gossip about something, she took it.

“That guy in the far booth hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked out here,” Tori whispered low in my ear.

I raised a brow. “Who?”

She rolled her eyes, the color matching the blue apron she wore, and turned my chin to face behind me where I saw the man from earlier, perched in the corner booth; exactly like she said.

He had a laptop on the table in front of him and a notebook next to it; the pen scratching quickly against the paper. As if he felt me staring, his eyes bounced up from the notebook to land on my face. Our eyes locked in such an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us gave up yet. With the way he was watching me, it brought a heat to my insides and I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly running dry.

“You should go talk to him,” Tori pushed me a little his way.

I dug my heels into the ground. “You should get back to work.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” she giggled while throwing a hand over her shoulder as she turned to head back to the counter.

With one final glance over to the man in the corner booth, I bit my lip when I realized he was still watching me with curiosity in his eyes. I felt this unknown pull in my heart, dragging me over to him, and as my foot took one step in his direction, Sean’s voice called from the back.

“UH, ASTRID! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!”

Son of a bitch.

ASTRID

“Wait-what do you mean delay? I was told the sign would be here last Friday,” I groaned into my phone.

“I’m sorry, miss, but with all the shipping delays it might be another week until you receive what you ordered.” The sales rep said.

I pinched my eyes shut and sighed. “I need that sign. It was for the outside of my cafe, right now I have a dingy one that has been here since my grandparents opened and the ‘A’ is barely hanging on so now all it says is FIK so imagine my horror when people keep saying “Oh my, fik is a terrible name, dear.”

I was rambling on to this complete stranger on the phone because of my stress and nerves. When I first took over the cafe a few months ago, the outdoor sign was old and broken so I ordered a new one but I had hopes that it’d be here before I reopened.

Wrong.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. We’re hoping to have it for you by the end of the month.”

“THE MONTH?!” I nearly screeched as I came to a halt in the middle of the cafe lobby; curious eyes landing on me.

Sean furrowed his brows while making a drink. Waving him off, I turned my attention back to my phone. “Is there any way you could put a rush order on it? Please.”

“No,” the sales rep deadpanned.

“Gee thanks,” I grumbled before hanging up the phone, stuffing it angrily into the pocket of my olive green jumpsuit.

Running both hands through the long strands of my hair while I muttered a few curses. It seemed as if the last week had continued problem after problem.

The sink in the bathroom ended up having to be replaced.

Torri accidentally dropped a stack of brand-new coffee mugs, breaking all of them, so I still need to go out and buy some more.

The new employee I hired last week didn’t show up for their third shift this morning, meaning we were down a person. When I texted them, they never responded.

There was a family of raccoons living next to the dumpster outside. Sean wanted me to call animal control but I immediately declined. They weren’t hurting or bothering anyone so they could live there.

“What are we, a wildlife rehab?” Sean asked with disbelief.

I raised a brow while crossing my arms. “Sean, are you afraid of a couple of raccoons?”

He scoffed. “Please. Those things just eat trash and cause havoc.”

“Well, they’re staying. If anyone doesn't like it, they can come to me with their complaints,” I pointed my finger playfully at my employees.

With a sigh, I busied myself for the next little while cleaning up tables, talking with guests, and helping out my employees with anything they needed. I was a hands-on owner and boss, always helping when I could. Anything to make their lives and jobs easier.

Every so often, when I mingled with the guests, I let my gaze drift to the empty corner booth; where the mystery man sat every day for the last four days. He never came at the same time but when he did show up, I managed to always be busy with front-of-house things or stuck in my office. But when I wasn't in my office, our eyes would catch every so often. However, it was my nerves that stopped me from going to ask him if he needed anything else or to strike up a conversation with him.

Flirting in general was easy for me but with this man, his dark yet bright eyes locked me into place with a swollen tongue every time his gaze struck me.

“Astrid, my dear!”

Pausing from refilling the straws, I glanced at the open door and smiled at one of Fika’s regulars from when my father owned it; an older man named Phillip.

“Hi, Phillip. How are you?” I helped guide him to a table against the black-painted wall; still empty.

I haven't had time to hang up the variety of guitars that were slowly overtaking my office.

“Fine, fine,” he patted my hand as I slowly helped him into the seat. “Just here for my usual honey tea with-.”

“One piece of lemon so you can squeeze it yourself and two cannolis,” I finished for him with a nod. “Coming right up Phillip.”

Turning on my heels, I peered over to the counter ready to tell Tori about the order but raised a brow when I noticed no one standing behind it. Glazing at the clock on the opposite wall, I cursed when I remembered that Tori’s break was now and Sean was busy watching a safety training video in the break room.

As the door above the bell rang, indicating a new customer, I glanced down at Phillip while tapping the table. “Give me a bit and I’ll hand deliver it myself.”

He paused reading the newspaper to give me a warm smile. “Of course, dear.”

“I’ll be right with you,” I then called to the tall man standing at the counter but froze when our eyes met.

His usual long hair was pulled back into a low bun, showcasing the hardness of his jaw, and I absentmindedly licked my lips. He wore a simple gray hoodie and black jeans but something about this casual outfit made my stomach flip. Since his hair was pulled back I was able to see the small piercing in his left ear.

“Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush,” the mystery man smiled while holding onto the strap of his bag; the same bag that he brought in every day.

I’ve come to notice that it held his notebook and laptop, with the occasional book he brought out to read every so often.

“Th-thanks,” I stuttered while rushing behind the counter to get started on Phillip’s order.

As I was pouring the tea into the cup, the phone from the cafe rang and I quickly answered.

“Thank you for calling Fika. This is Astrid.”

“Astrid!” The cheery and younger voice ran in my ear. “It’s Laura. I’m bringing in my study group, we’re a party of seven so I wanted to give you a heads up in case you didn't have the space.”

Glancing up to the farthest corner of the cafe, secluded away from the rest, the two long sage-green couches were currently empty.

“The loft is already booked for a private event for tonight but your usual spot is open. I’ll reserve it for you guys. Thanks for the heads up, Laura! I appreciate it.”

“Oh please, Astrid. You’ve done so much fueling our late-night college study sessions. We’ll see you in a bit!”

Hanging up the phone, I placed it on the counter while grabbing the tea mug in one hand and the two cannolis and slice of lemon in the other. As I passed by the tall mystery man, I gave him my best smile.

“I’m sorry for the wait.”

He peered up from his phone. “No need to apologize. I’m very patient.”

Ignoring the way my skin pricked and burned at the accent in his voice, I gently set down Phillip’s order with shaky hands.

“Oh, why so nervous, dear?” Phillip commented.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “No reason. Enjoy.”

Before I could leave, he gently grasped my elbow. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m sorry to hear about your father.”

My body went rigid at the mention of my father. It was rare that a customer would bring him up because they were all new so there was no need to talk about my father which I’d been thankful for since it was still raw. The occasional regulars, like Phillip, were the ones that did.

I swallowed thickly. “Uh, thank you. We knew for a while how sick he was but still, it was a shock.”

“And you were the one that found him?”

Out of the corner of my eye, the mystery man turned his head briefly my way but I kept my attention on Phillip doing my best not to let the tears win.

“Enjoy your tea, Phillip. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I tapped his shoulder while making my way over to the two couches in the far back of the cafe and flipped over the RESERVED sign then made my way back to the register.

“Thanks for waiting,” I smiled up to the mystery man. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee with two scoops of sugar, please.” He smiled while handing me his black credit card.

“Any sweets?” I teased, already knowing his order.

According to Jessica and Tori, every time he came in he ordered the same thing.

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar.

They tried to upsell him into something different or add a sweet for his side, but every time he politely declined.

The man’s eyes sparked as he looked at me and just as I was about to prepare myself for giving him the total, he surprised me.

He hummed low. “What do you recommend?”

Tapping my fingers against the edge of the counter I peered at the display case of all the homemade desserts I baked this morning.

“Depends. What do you like?” I asked, giving him a small smile.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes ghosted over my entire form, lingering on my tattoos. First, flowers and a crescent moon chest piece that was visible thanks to my thin straps and the low cut of my jumpsuit. Then he looked at the tattoo on my left forearm. It was of four crows flying away with their feathers falling. Then to the sleeve on my right arm, I called my Witch arm; it had different witch theme designs.

When I scratched my cheek, I noticed the way he tracked every movement of it, seeing the Medusa head I had tattooed on the back of my hand. I had more tattoos that were hidden underneath my clothes but the thought of him stripping me to trace over them with his tongue made my face burn and I shifted on my feet.

Finally, he shrugged. “Surprise me.”

Pursing my lips, I grabbed a plate and the tongs, deciding on two small pieces of my grandma’s famous Kanelbullar. She passed down the recipe to me in hopes I would continue to sell them at the cafe.

“These are a huge hit with everyone. My grandma’s recipe,” I said while handing him the plate.

“Oh?” The man raised a brow as he looked down at the plate on the counter.

Suddenly my palms began to sweat as he assessed the dessert. “They’re called kanelbullar; a famous Swedish desert. Otherwise known as cinnamon buns. Some people are turned off by it at first because of how it looks but I promise, they’re delicious. I made them myself this morning. All of these desserts are made fresh every morning. ”

Now the man was smirking. “Swedish, huh?”

I nodded. “My grandparents were born in Sweden and moved here to start their dream of opening Fika. When they retired, they moved back.”

“Are you Swedish?”

I cringed. “Fifty percent but don’t ask me to speak it because I’ll butcher it.”

“How much?” He asked with a laugh while pointing to the plate.

I waved him off while ringing his total up on the credit card machine. “I’ll charge you just for the coffee, in case you don’t like the kanelbullar. But, it’s a one-time thing.”

I playfully pointed a finger at him, one he chuckled at before taking his card back.

“That’s very sweet of you, thank you,” he gave me a smile that made me weak in the knees.

Clearing my throat, I brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and reached for a cardboard cup. “Can I have a name for the order?”

“Joakim.”

I paused mid-writing. “Uh, do you mind spelling it? I don’t want to be the kind of a barista that messes up people's names.”

“You can call me Jolly,” he chuckled.

“See,” I pointed the marker at him. “That I can spell. Joakim is an interesting name though.”

I began pouring the coffee into his cup but nearly spilled it when his next words shocked me.

“It’s Swedish.”

“Wait,” I set down the pot and cup before turning back to him. “Are you telling me you let me ramble on about a Swedish dessert when you fully knew what it was?”

The man, Jolly, was full-on grinning now as he popped one of the kanelbullars in his mouth, licking off the sticky cinnamon syrup. I had to force myself to bite back a moan at the sight.

“Du var söt så jag sa inget,” Jolly said, then took a drink of his coffee when I handed it to him.

With my furrowed brows of confusion, he chuckled. “You have no idea what I’m saying do you?”

“Not a fucking thing,” I giggled while scrunching my nose. “I was born here in California and my grandma only taught me the basics but those are long forgotten.”

“How long have you owned the place?” He wondered.

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “A few months now but I only recently reopened. When I took it over after my father, it needed a lot of upgrades and fixes. Which it still does. But I plan on selling it once it is ready.”

Jolly raised a brow. “You’re going to sell?”

“Uh, yeah,” I rubbed my elbow nervously. “Owning this place was never my endgame. It’s been in the family for years, yes, but the potential of the money if I sell would help out a lot.”

Tears gathered in the corner of my hazel eyes when I knew deep down the real reason why I wanted to sell; it reminded me too much of my father.

“You’ve created a nice place here,” he admitted while looking around at the place. “The plants add a nice touch.”

I had a variety of different plants littered all over the place as a way to bring life and color into the dull lighting.

I hummed. “Here I thought it was the coffee that brought you in every day.”

“Oh, it is, however, I’m more into the barista who made it today,” Jolly winked.

My cheeks burned all the way to the tops of my ears. “Oh, well. That’s very sweet of you.”

With the cup in one hand and plate in the other, Jolly winked. “Thank you, Astrid. I’ll be coming back for a refill.”

“I’ll be here to help with that,” I rushed out a bit fast and mentally cursed myself for sounding desperate.

But then I realized he said my name and the way it sounded on his lips made my core itch with desire.

“You know my name?” I asked while twirling my fingers.

“I’ve heard it quite a lot the last week from your employees needing something,” he joked.

I playfully rolled my eyes while making a new batch of black coffee so he could have the fresh stuff when he needed it. “I love them. It’s not their fault this place is old and falling apart.

Jolly sat in his typical booth that was near the ride side of the counter, in front of the window. “Do you know the meaning behind your name?”

“I know it’s Swedish,” I answered with a shrug.

He nodded. “It means divinely beautiful.”

Now my entire body was inflamed with how Jolly was staring at me, his dark eyes devouring me, but before I could respond, Sean and Tori emerged from the back.

“Alright, boss. Where do you want us?” Tori clapped her hands.

Her break was over and Sean must have finished his training video.

“Tori, you’re working the private party. They should be here by 3 so can you make sure everything in the loft is set up?” I asked.

She nodded with a wide smile. “Of course. Who’s it this time?”

When I took over Fika, I noticed there was this huge, unused space upstairs that I could use for either extra seating if we got too busy or for private events. Tonight, there was a local book club that rented out the space.

“LA’s Book Ladies.”

“Again? Weren’t they here last week?” Sean asked.

Nodding, I handed Tori the box of supplies she would need to set up the loft before ushering her away. “They're interested in renting out the space every Thursday for their book club.”

The bell above the door indicated a new group of customers; Laura’s study group.

I motioned Sean over to them. “Jessica will be here in five minutes. She can help you prepare their order once you take it.”

Once Sean scurried over towards the group, I darted my gaze over to where Jolly was sitting, noticing that he had headphones on as he worked on his laptop, the plate empty.

Before I could bring him another round of coffee and kanelbullars, my phone rang and I immediately recognized the number.

“Hi, mormor,” I smiled into the phone.

“Min älskling,” my grandmother’s old, frail voice made me smile even wider. “How are things?”

With the sudden commotion from the study group settling in, I decided to take the rest of my phone call in my office.

JOLLY

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

Snapping my eyes up from my phone, I watched Astrid with a small smile as she stepped onto the small ladder to hang up a guitar, only to be a few inches short. She’d been working on hanging up guitars on the black wall for the last ten minutes, something I watched with intent and curious eyes.

It had been a few days since our first conversation and since then, we shared stolen glances anytime I was here and she was working up front. We talked when she wasn’t busy but it always pertained to the same topic.

“How's your coffee?”

“Would you like a refill?”

Astrid did try to deter me from my usual order but I always stayed the same.

Black coffee with two scoops of sugar. I did, however, let her decide on my sweets. Today it was something simple; baklava.

Another thing she baked herself.

When Astrid slid over the coffee to me this morning, I curled a brow at the mug she had given me. She merely shrugged with a coy smile before busying herself with going about and watering all the plants in the cafe.

I snicked while grabbing the white mug that had ‘Jolly’ written across it and sat in my usual booth in front of the large window. The green velvet of the bench seat and the oak wood of the table I sat at became a sense of familiarity.

Out of the corner of my eye, I marveled at how her ice-white hair was pulled back into a tight bun, showcasing her defined cheekbones and bright hazel eyes. Astrid’s leg was exposed due to the long slit in her long black skirt and I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her shin; a moth, a rose, and a half-crescent moon. She was covered in tattoos and I couldn’t ignore the voice in my head that begged me to find out if she had any other ones hidden.

When I was walking downtown a few weeks ago and saw the opening soon sign on the battered door of Fika, I was curious about who was taking over. I used to stop in every once in a while when Astrid’s father ran the place but ever since my life and work schedule with Bad Omens took off, I came in less and less.

But that day when I saw Astrid’s faint figure covered in a type of green paint as she painted the walls, I was transfixed. The vision of her took my breath away and I stopped to watch her for a few seconds. The few times I stopped in when her father owned the cafe, I never noticed her. So when I heard that she was the one taking over, I decided to make more of an effort to stop in when I could, however, I never expected I’d be here every other day.

Noah called me out last week about how often I came here and told me not to “fall in love”. I had no intention to, not wanting to get into a relationship with how often I was gone on the road, but the second my eyes met with hers, I knew Astrid would consume every part of me.

“I chose the wrong day to wear my fucking vans.”

Shaking from my thoughts, I peered over to Astrid as she now stood on the tips of her toes to try and hang up a guitar on one of the highest hooks.

“Need some help?” I asked while rising to my feet.

She was only a few feet away from where I’d been sitting.

“Oh, no, Jolly. I don’t want to bother you,” Astrid said, waving me off.

I shrugged while brushing the hair away from my face; opting to leave it down today.

“I mean this is the nicest way possible Astrid, but you’re shorter than me. I could reach that hook with ease,” I informed.

She playfully gawked with a hand over her heart, the other clutching the guitar. “My, I thought you were one of the sweeter ones.”

I chuckled and motioned her to step off the ladder. “Get off of there before you hurt yourself.”

“I’ll have you know,” she came down the three-rung ladder, “I did every single update in this place. Without hurting myself.”

I took the guitar from her with a raised brow. “Are you sure about that?”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe I tripped over a bucket of paint and cut my finger while setting up the new coffee machine but that’s it.”

“For now,” I joked while taking a tentative step toward her.

“Oh, someone thinks they’re funny today,” she crossed her arms but the smile on her blood-red lips told me she was loving our banter.

With mere inches between us, Astrid peered up at me through her long lashes and swallowed thickly.

“Well, I must say. You are taller than me,” her voice was quiet but yet loud enough just for me to hear.

My fingers itched with the want to brush away the loose strand of hair that hung in her eyes. When her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, I internally groaned at how seductive that simple action was and I almost had to force myself to take a step away from her. One of my hands was still holding onto the guitar, and the other was hanging to my side, so close to Astrid’s that I could feel the heat radiating off of her. Our eyes were locked with each other, my dark ones paled in comparison to her bright hazel ones. They burned deep into my soul, in the best way, and I found myself swimming in their depths. I was hypnotized by her gaze that I didn’t realize our fingers brushed against one another, sparks shooting through my entire essence with the simple touch of her skin on mine.

“How many do you have left to hang up?” I cleared my throat, breaking the sudden sexual tension, and held up the guitar.

“Uh,” Astrid blinked. “Just two more. I have to run to the back to grab the last one.”

With a nod, I let her run off to grab the last guitar as I took the two steps up the step ladder, hanging up the guitar I had on its designated hook. Once back on my feet, I took a few steps back to admire how the guitar wall looked. The bright red, neon FIKA sign was in the middle with one unused hook underneath it.

“Here we go!” Astrid smiled as she came back to the front of the cafe. “Please be careful with this one. It’s an old one and means a lot.”

For once, she didn’t have my full attention. It was on the guitar in her hand.

A blue Teisco Del Rey ET-312. Otherwise known as a sharkfin guitar. Something I made known.

“You know guitars, huh?” she asked as I gently took it from her.

“Yeah, I know a thing or two,” I kept my answer simple, not wanting to give too much about me away. It was clear she had no idea who I was outside of the cafe and I wanted to keep it like that for a little while longer.

As I gazed down at it, Astrid told me the story behind it.

“It was my grandfather's. He absolutely loved playing it when he wasn’t spending all of his time here. I remember he let me play it one Christmas when I was 7. I was terrible and my parents vowed to never put me into any lessons to save their ears,” she ended her story with a light chuckle.

“He didn’t take it back with him when they moved back to Sweden?” I asked, remembering she told me her grandparents moved back a few years ago.

“Nope. He gave it to me. I’m not sure why, though. I never learned to play. Hopefully, he won’t be so mad that I decided to hang it up.”

Ever so carefully, I went back up the step ladder and placed it on its hook. It wasn’t until I was standing next to Astrid again that I gave her a wicked smile.

“This looks pretty badass, Astrid. I love how it turned out,” I admired.

She smiled, eyes sparkling as she looked at it. “Me too. Thank you for your help, Jolly.”

Astrid bumped her shoulders with mine and not only did the sparks return but so did the fluttering in my stomach.

The bell above the door jingled, making her jump slightly before turning around, her voice raising an octave to greet the customer.

“Hi, welcome to Fika!”

I didn’t miss the ‘woah’ under her breath and with furrowed brows, I turned on my heels but rolled my eyes at who walked in the door.

Noah took one look between Astrid and me, how close we were standing next to each other, and the corner of his lips curled up.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“What can I get you?” Astrid asked as she walked over to the register behind the counter.

“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” Noah declined politely while holding a hand over his chest.

“You sure you don’t want some mochis? I hear they’re pretty special,” I teased.

Noah shot me a glare, one I ignored by packing up my things. He must have finished his therapy session early and we're going to head to rehearsals for the next two days to prepare for the upcoming week-long festivals Bad Omens were set to headline.

“You two know each other?” Astrid pointed between us.

“He’s my roommate,” I answered before Noah could.

He picked up on how rushed my answer was but knew with my pleading eyes not to say anything else about how we know each other.

“I’m Noah,” he extended his hand towards her.

She smiled while shaking it. “Astrid. Owner of Fika.”

“I’ve heard great things about you. And this place. It’s one of Jolly’s favorites,” Noah said.

Astrid’s eyes glinted as we looked at each other and I swore all of the oxygen left my lungs with how intense her gaze was.

She hummed low. “I’m starting to realize that.”

Hiding my burning cheeks beneath the length of my hair, I cleared my throat and patted Noah on the back.

“We should go.”

He nodded at me before turning back to Astrid. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe next time, I’ll join Jolly.”

“Sure,” she nodded, still wearing that beautiful smile. “Oh, here. At least take some coconut water for the road!”

Astrid bent down to reach into the fridge and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her. Noah snickered next to me which in turn, made me smack his chest.

“Fuck, man,” he grunted while rubbing it.

“Here you guys go!” She handed us the two bottles of coconut water and my fingers grazed hers yet again when I grabbed mine.

This time it was Astrid who seemed affected by it with the way her breath hitched and quickly stuffed her hands in the pockets of her long skirt.

“What do I owe you?” Noah asked while reaching for his wallet.

“On the house,” she said.

“Now I can see why Jolly likes you,” Noah ran a hand through his hair.

The new shorter length was something not only he but I was getting used to. As long as I’d known him, Noah had some sort of long hair.

Before I could retort, one of her employees came rushing up behind Astrid, needing her attention for something.

“Sean, they’re just raccoons. As long as you leave them alone, they won’t bother you,” she laughed.

The noise made my heart ache in my chest, wanting to be the only one to be the reason why she laughed like that.

“I’m telling you, Astrid. There are at least six of them now. How am I supposed to throw away the trash if they’re living in the dumpster?”

With a deep sigh, she excused herself from us with a small wave and that was my cue to pull Noah along as we stepped out into the late Los Angeles afternoon air.

He took a long drink of his coconut water as we walked towards his car which was parked down the block.

“So that’s Astrid,” he noted with a hum.

“Don’t start,” I grumbled while putting on my sunglasses.

Noah held up his hands. “She’s cute, Jolly. I can see why you spend a lot of time here. Though it doesn’t seem like she knows who either of us is.”

I shook my head with a thankful breath. “No, she doesn’t. Although you seemed to take her breath away when she saw you.”

He snorted. “You don’t have to worry. I only have eyes for-.”

“I know, I know,” I waved him off before he finished his sentence.

It was clear who Noah only had eyes for. It took a long time for him to finally realize that.

We reached Noah’s car and as he stood in front of the driver's door and me on the passenger side, we both rested our arms on the hood of the car. Noah’s almond eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses but I knew they were assessing my face.

“Do you plan on telling her who you are and what you do?” He wondered.

“If I’m being honest, it’s been nice not having her know or treating me differently.”

Noah nodded. “I understand that. But take it from me, not communicating the truth can delay things. And it’s not healthy.”

Understatement of the year.

“I’ll tell her; soon,” I said.

“What is she going to think when you’re gone for 9 days and don’t show up for your daily coffee?”

“We should go, you know how Matt gets when we’re late,” I said, changing the subject, and opened the door to slide into the passenger seat.

Noah tapped the roof of his car before he followed my actions.

ASTRID

“I don’t know what to do, mormor. One guy put in an offer, it wasn’t great but enough to keep me afloat for a while if I do decide to sell,” I spoke into my phone as it was perched between my shoulder and ear, hands busy stocking the cafe.

“Astrid, I sense there’s something else stopping you,” my grandmother observed.

I shrugged with my free shoulder. “If I’m being honest, I like running Fika. It keeps me motivated to get out of bed every morning. My employees are great, same with the customers. I have a lot of regulars that tell me I should keep the place; keep it in the family name.”

One especially lingered on my mind always. His long brown hair, ever darker brown eyes, and that nose ring that seemed to accentuate his face perfectly.

“Min älskling, it’s whatever you decide. We left Fika to your father who in turn left it to you because we trust you. Don’t feel as if you need to keep it for us. We don’t want to see you do something with regret.”

I finished stocking the straws and went to work stocking the sugar packets. “I know. I do wish you and farfar could come visit and see what I’ve done with it.”

My heart sank when I thought of my grandfather and knowing the real reason why they couldn’t leave Sweden right now. My grandmother was still young and healthy enough to travel but she couldn’t leave my grandfather in case something happened to him.

Alzheimer's had slowly been deteriorating his brain, making life difficult for both of them. It was the same disease that took my father months ago.

My grandmother sighed. “Someday I’ll come visit. But your farfar-.”

“I know,” I said suddenly. “It’s alright.”

We talked for a few more minutes before I said goodbye and pocketed my phone into my jeans. Rolling up the sleeves of my orange cardigan I busied myself with more work. It was Saturday afternoon and Fika was busier than normal; the sunshine and cool LA weather brought everyone out.

Well, not everyone.

For the last week, anytime the bell above the door jingled, my head would snap up expecting to see Jolly, but every time my heart would drop when it wasn’t him. I had become so accustomed to seeing him almost every day that when he stopped coming in, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I had done.

Maybe he finally grew sick of your coffee. And you.

Shaking the thought from my mind, I went about mingling with some of my regulars. The cool air slipped inside as someone walked in through the door, tickling the exposed skin of my stomach because of the black lace bralette I wore.

Deciding to head to my office, I was in my head thinking about what I possibly could have done to make Jolly leave for a week, that I didn’t see the body I collided with until it was too late.

Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, large hands gripping the small of my back, as my hands sprawled out on the thick chest. Peering up through my lashes, I drank in the sight of those dark eyes.

“H-hi,” I stuttered while swallowing thickly.

“Hello,” Jolly smiled as his hands absentmindedly rubbed at my back.

The feeling sent a shockwave through my veins and I reveled in his touch, desperately needing it all over me.

His hair was hidden beneath the hat he wore, the hood of his black sweater pulled over that. There was a new look of exhaustion in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. It was as if the usual light behind them had dulled since our last encounter.

However the longer we stared at each other, I could see the light returning. I so badly wanted to ask him where he’d gone the last nine days but didn’t want to make it seem like I noticed. Even though I did.

I also found myself missing his presence after the third day he didn’t show up.

“The usual?” I asked after a beat of silence.

Jolly gave me a warm smile, hands still wrapped around me. “Have I worked myself up to a usual kind of guy?”

I playfully patted his chest. “It's easy when I can make your drink in my sleep.”

“I like what I like,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine as he did.

Silence fell between us as we continued to stay in each other's embrace, neither of us ready to break apart. Until Tori’s voice broke through the small bubble Jolly and I created.

“Astrid, there’s a Jackson on the phone for you.”

Shit.

Slowly removing myself from Jolly, I cleared my throat. “I have to take that, but give me a few minutes and I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Turning my back to him, I took the cafe phone from Astrid while ignoring her smug smirk as she watched Jolly walk to his table.

“This is Astrid,” I answered the call.

“Astrid, this is Jackson Hewitt, I’m calling about that little coffee shop you own on the corner of W. 9th Street. Freka.”

“Fika,” I corrected with a stern voice.

This was our third conversation and he still couldn't pronounce the name correctly; either he couldn’t or didn’t bother enough to care.

“Right,” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m calling to check in to see if you’ve thought about my offer.”

Staying on the phone with him, I poured the black coffee with two scoops of sugar into the white Jolly cup and plated two chocolate chip cookies.

“You only sent the offer the other day, Jackson. I need longer than that to think if I accept or not,” I said as I made my way over towards where Jolly sat.

His usual booth in the corner by the large window.

“Or not?” Jackson repeated my words. “Come on, Astrid. This is probably the best deal you will get for that place. It’s better if you take it now because I can’t promise it will be the same amount next time I make it.”

I set the plate and coffee down on the table in front of Jolly with a bit of force, not meaning to, so he glanced up at me.

“Listen, Jackson. With absolutely no respect, I’m not interested in selling my place to someone who’s going to turn it into a chain restaurant. If I lose money, so what? At least I kept my dignity and didn’t sell out.”

I placed my hand on my hip, still standing in front of Jolly who watched me with a slight smirk.

“Woah, Astrid. In no way are you selling out. I just have great plans for that space. I know how hard it has been keeping it afloat after your father died.”

My body went rigid as a low scowl pulled on my lips. This asshole knew absolutely nothing about my father or how well Fika had been doing. The first few weeks were rough but I found a good rhythm and soon, we began to flourish. The income had been steady for everything and everyone involved.

Plus, I hadn’t smiled or felt this good about my future in a long time.

“My father and his passing have nothing to do with my decision. You’ve never stepped foot inside of Fika, so don’t pretend you know how my business is doing,” I did my best to keep myself composed in front of the customers, especially Jolly.

“You know what, I’ll give you another day to think-.”

“No, I’ve made my decision. Fika is no longer for sale, thanks for your interest but please do not contact me again.”

Before Jackson could respond, I hung up the phone and pinched my eyes shut; the ongoing onslaught of a migraine creeping its way into my head.

“You’ve decided not to sell?”

Jolly’s soft voice made me jump slightly and when our gazes met, it pulled me in to sit across from him.

“Yeah,” I nodded while tapping my fingers against the table. “I’ve talked with my grandma a little bit about it. She supports me no matter what I decide but I couldn’t imagine letting this place go. It has too many memories behind it.”

“It’s a great place, Astrid. You should be proud of what you’ve done here,” he said.

I smiled. “I am. I’ve slowly put myself into this place so I can’t let it go.”

“Well,” Jolly took a small sip of his coffee. “I’m glad you’ve decided to keep it.”

I rested my chin on my palm. “Me too. It helps that the clientele have been so wonderful.”

A low rumble emanated from his chest as he pointed to his coffee. “Does anyone else get a special cup with their name on it?”

“No, those are saved for the real special ones,” I winked.

Something dark flashed in Jolly’s eyes as he leaned farther back into his chair, extending his long legs on the right side of me, locking them at his ankles. My eyes dragged up the length of them until my gaze landed on his eyes, a playful gleam behind them as he caught me staring at him.

My cheeks burned as I shifted in my seat.

“Nervous?” Jolly questioned with a sudden darkness in his voice as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

We were so close now, that I could feel his warm breath across my face.

“N-nope.” I did my best to remain calm and poised but was failing. Something he immediately picked up on.

“Are you sure about that?”

Licking my lips, I parted them to speak, something Jolly tracked with intense eyes. My pussy was aching with such a force of desire I was afraid he would be able to smell my desire with how close he was to me. There was this sudden pull between us that made me lean up towards him, Jolly’s lips meters from mine. I almost missed the intake of his breath, the sound muted with the hustle and bustle of the cafe.

“Astrid, the delivery truck is outside!”

Jumping away slightly from Jolly, I cleared my throat while looking towards the counter, Sean waving me over.

“I should-.” I threw a thumb over my shoulder when I looked back at Jolly.

He nodded, adjusting the hat on his head. “Of course.”

With one final glance, I stepped out of the booth and spent the next long while putting away the respective boxes from our weekly delivery. It was a bit larger than normal so by the time I finished, it was nearing 4 in the evening and when I emerged up the front of the cafe, the large groups that were there earlier dwindled to only a few.

“How have things been?” I asked Jessica.

She was wiping down the front counter and shrugged. “Not too bad. A steady influx of customers. But one managed to stay the entire time you were busy.”

“Almost as if he was waiting for you,” Tori popped up from in front of the counter as she was cleaning the glass of the dessert display case.

I crossed my arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sean snorted from his spot in the little kitchen to my left. “Astrid, this guy has been in here almost every single day and stays for a few hours all while looking at you. Take it from me, this guy is interested.”

While they were a few years younger than me, I didn’t brush off their observations yet.

“Jolly is a regular,” I started to defend.

Tori’s eyes widened. “That’s why you’ve been giving him his coffee in that cup!”

I hushed her with a wave of a hand when other customers peered over at us. Thankfully, it seemed as if Jolly had his headphones in as he clicked away at his laptop.

“You should give him your number,” Jessica suggested.

“No,” I shot down with a shake of my head.

Although the prospect of giving Jolly my number did make my heart flutter.

“Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen? He ignores you?” Tori wondered.

I placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t you guys have better things to do than worry about my dating life?”

“He’s here almost every day and I hate to break it to you, but it’s not because of the coffee. He can have simple black coffee at home but he chooses to come here,” Sean said once he finished cleaning one of the ovens.

“I’m going to see if he needs anything else,” Jessia piped up, quickly scurrying around the counter.

Her name fell in a hushed tone as I watched her walk over to where Jolly sat. Their conversation couldn’t be heard from my spot in the cafe but when he smiled politely at her with a nod, my stomach fluttered with those damn butterflies. Every part about Jolly made my skin buzz with electricity and heat. Jessica returned to the front counter with a sly smirk.

“Jolly said he will take a coffee for the road and a dozen of you famous Kanelbullar’s. Oh, and a pack of those chocolate mochis. Something about a friend of his loving those. But Tori and I can’t make his order because we have to clean the loft.”

“We do?” Tori asked with confusion which made Jessica smack her arm. “Oh, yes! Right. We do. Sean, can you take care of Jolly’s order?”

“No can do. It’s time for my break,” Sean said as he walked into the back.

I playfully narrowed my eyes at all three of them. “You guys think you’re so slick but I know what you’re doing.”

As the three of them dispersed, I went to work on getting Jolly’s to go order together. With my fingers wrapped around the togo cup, I mewled at my decision for a long moment before internally saying fuck it. The worst that can happen is that he ignores my texts.

And break your heart in the process.

Choosing to ignore that thought, I scribbled down my number with the letter A on the cup, then filled it with black coffee and two scoops of sugar. As I was bagging his desserts, Jolly came up to the counter with his card in hand.

“Tell your friend these mochis are a favorite here,” I smiled.

“I’ll make sure to let him know. He kind of has a weird obsession with them,” he chuckled.

Ringing him up for everything, I handed back his card then hesitantly his cup and bag of goodies. Jolly gave nothing away that he saw my number written in black ink on his cup.

“So, see you tomorrow?” I asked, not being able to hide the hope in my voice.

He ran a hand over his jaw. “I actually have this party that will have my attention all day. But I’ll be back on Sunday. Can't go too long without these Kanelbullars.”

The front counter stood between us and with the way he smiled, I wanted to jump across it into his arms.

Instead, I decided to remain professional and nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure to have a fresh batch for you on Sunday.”

With a wink, Jolly raised the cup to his lips to take a small sip of his coffee. “I can’t wait, Astird.”

The way my name fell from his lips nearly made me moan in pleasure and I wanted to hear him say it again; the accent doing wonders for it.

With a gentle wave, I watched him walk out of the cafe before busing myself to help close up the cafe. Every so often I would peek at my phone to see if there was a new message from an unknown number and every time, my heart would sink when I realized there wasn’t.

Just as I was about to give up hope, my phone buzzed when I was locking up the front door and walking to my car parked across the street.

Unknown: Hi, it’s Jolly. Apologies it took me a while to text you. I noticed your number on the cup the second you handed it to me. But with work, it pulled me away from my phone. So now that I have a minute, hi.

I grinned as I read the message over a few more times before plopping into the driver's seat of my car. I debated on how to respond for a few minutes.

Me: Hi :) how did your friend like the mochis?

As I finished saving his contact, Jolly responded.

Joakim: Loved them. Ate half of the Kanelbullar as well.

I giggled at the next message that came in; a simple frown emoji.

Me: Well, I’ll make sure to throw in a few extra just for you next time.

Joakim: I’m looking forward to it.

With the smile still plastered to my face, I plugged in my phone to my car and for the first time in a long while, enjoyed the drive home after a long day's work.

ASTRID

I opened Fika about two hours ago, a slow steady stream of customers coming in as soon as the door opened, and I’d been carefully watching to see if Jolly would show up. We texted for a little while yesterday since I was home sick in bed and when he sent me a picture of the outfit he wore to his party, I had to pause my movie to stare at it. Black jeans, black long sleeves, and a black jacket on top.

With the large mirror I had leaning against one of the cafe walls, something I set up for people to take selfies in front of with their coffees, I brushed away any lint on my black sweater dress and adjusted my tights. I made sure not a strand of hair fell out of my French braid and smiled to myself.

“You know what they said about Narcissus,” Sean chuckled as he caught me giving myself another once over.

“Ha, ha,” I narrowed my eyes while resting my hands on my hips. “Shouldn’t you be bussing tables?”

“Waiting for a certain someone?” He teased with a raised brow before he went to work cleaning up the tables.

Before I could retort, the bell above the door rang which made me turn swiftly on my feet. My heart rate picked up at the sight of Jolly as he walked in with two other guys on each side of him. His hair was falling to his shoulders in chocolate waves and when he took off his sunglasses, his dark amber eyes immediately found me to scan every inch of me. I felt frozen but hot under his gaze and pulled at the ends of my sweater dress, suddenly feeling as if it wasn’t perfect enough for him.

“Hi,” Jolly smiled.

The two men he came in with watched us with curious smiles, the one of Jolly’s left I recognized as his roommate that came in here a few weeks ago.

"Hey you, the usual?" I asked.

He smiled with a slight nod. "You know me so well."

I peered over to the two others, pointing to the one I recognized. “Noah, right?”

The heavily tattooed man nodded while adjusting the hood of his sweater and that's when I noticed the writing along the front of it.

“Oh, shit. Hereditary! I love that movie,” I exclaimed.

Noah's eyes brightened. “Yeah?”

“A24 has made some phenomenal films. Although, the ending kind of fucked me up,” I admitted with a laugh.

As I looked over to the other man who wore glasses, I missed the look that Jolly and Noah shared.

“Hi, I’m Astrid.”

“Jesse,” he held a hand against his chest. “Jolly’s other roommate. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about this place.”

“Oh,” I gazed back over to Jolly, never taking my eyes off of him. “All good things, I hope?”

Jolly licked his lips. “Definitely.”

It seemed as if time slowed to almost a stop as we stared at each other and there was a pull deep within my soul that made me want to step into his embrace, letting him wrap those arms around me.

Clearing my throat finally, I motioned to the coffee machines. “What can I get you guys?”

Already knowing Jolly’s order, Noah and Jesse gave me theirs and I went to work getting it ready while they sat in Jolly’s regular booth. When Tori came in for her shift, I asked if she could carry Noah’s and Jesse’s drinks while I carried Jolly’s and the large plate of a variety of sweets for them.

“The one in the black hoodie is cute,” Tori nodded towards Noah.

I tilted my head towards her. “Oh, what happened to Tyler?

“Ugh, don’t say his name. I want to forget the last two weeks of my life with that man,” Tori stated.

“Fair enough,” I nodded firmly and chuckled.

“Besides,” she shook out her long red locks, “I seemed to have found someone else to occupy my mind with.”

“Tori,” I warned as we walked over to the guys’ table.

“Here you guys go,” she all but ignored Jesse while smiling down at Noah as she gave him his drink.

Noah kept his attention on his phone, only briefly giving Tori a smile of thanks before he went back to typing away on his phone. Her confidence deflated but she still kept that brightening smile on her face.

As I set down Jolly’s cup and plate of fresh kanelbullar as promised, he gazed up at me with a smile.

“Thank you, Astrid.”

I shivered at the way he said my name.

“Of course. Do you guys need anything else?” I asked all three of them.

“Actually,” Noah spoke up while giving me his full attention. “My girlfriend is meeting us here and asked if I can put her coffee order in.”

Tori faux sighed before retreating to behind the coffee counter. Jesse watched her with raised brows.

“Tori will be fine,” I chuckled. “What does your girlfriend want to drink?”

“Medium chai tea iced with oat milk, please,” Noah smiled warmly as he rattled off the drink; almost as if he was remembering a memory.

“Oh, a girl after my own heart,” I joked. “What’s her name?”

After Noah told me her name, I tapped the table twice before stalking back to the coffee bar, feeling a set of hot eyes on my back the entire time. I was quick to make the drink, all while humming a soft tune to myself, and as I turned back to bring the drink to Noah, the bell above the door rang. I watched as a brunette walked in, eyes gazing almost over every inch of my space with a faint smile before she noticed the guys. Quietly, she tiptoed over to Noah and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Just watching how the two of them interacted and all the love in their eyes, as they stared at each other before Noah cupped her cheek to lay a kiss on her lips, made my heart yearn for love like that.

"Sorry I'm late,” the brunette apologized as Noah pulled out the seat next to him. “Chase and Malcolm wanted to catch up after the album release party.”

"Order for Y/N!" I called out with a smile.

The brunette, Y/N, went to stand, but Noah was quick to force her gently back into her seat. “No, angel. Let me get it.”

My eyes locked with Jolly’s and he quickly waved off his friends. “I can do it. Sit.”

While he walked towards the counter, I noticed Noah mutter something in Y/N’s ear, her giggling widely.

“Could I also get a few mochis?” Jolly asked as he reached me.

I nodded. “Of course. Any specific flavor?”

“Whichever is fine. Y/N and Noah have a weird connection with them.”

My brows furrowed as I went about to plate a few of them. “Really?”

“That’s his nickname,” Jolly smiled as I handed him the plate of mochis and Y/N’s coffee.

“A nickname, huh?” I wiped my hands on the sides of my dress before leaning my elbows on the counter to rest my chin in my palm.

“Don’t tell him I told you, he gets uptight.” He chuckled while leaning down towards me.

I peered up at him while fake-locking my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Have you,” Jolly’s fingers grazed over one of the tattoos on my arm and I shivered under his touch. “Have you ever had a nickname?”

His tattooed fingers brushed back the long strands of hair as I gazed upon the sharp features of his face, the defined cheekbones, and the facial hair that surrounded his perfect, plump lips.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been given a nickname," I answered truthfully.

“Oh well that’s just a shame,” Jolly shrugged.

His confidence gave me some of my own and I gazed up at him through my lashes as he continued to stand on the other side of the counter.

“It is," I tucked a strand of my white hair that somehow fell from my French braid behind my ears. "Any suggestions?”

“Käraste," Jolly said almost too quickly, as if he thought about this before.

My cheeks burned as I locked eyes with him. Hearing the unknown word fall from his lips made my stomach flip and pussy clench. I squeezed my legs together to curb the itch.

“What? Too much?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

I quickly shook my head to reassure him while standing straight up on my feet. “No. No, I- I like it. What does it mean?”

With a smirk, Jolly tapped the counter before grabbing the cup and plate of mochis. "I think I'll keep that to myself."

I chuckled while shaking my head and watched as he walked back over to the corner couch, where his friends waited for him.

For a while, I was busy running the front counter while Sean and Tori worked the kitchen area. There’d been a slow steady stream of customers that kept us all busy but I knew that at some point I needed to slip back into my office for management work. However, before I did that, I brought the pot of black coffee and a small jar of sugar over to Jolly to refill his cup and then set down the sugar.

“Hi, I’m Y/N!”

Giving her a bright smile, I shook her extended hand. “Hi, I’m Astrid.”

Y/N motioned to Jolly. “I’m glad I listened to him about coming here. I’ve been wanting to for a while now, my therapist is right next door, and every time I walk past, the smell of the sweets gets me.”

“Oh, Dr. Poulos! She comes in every day before her two p.m. appointment and gets a small cup of Greek coffee and baklava to go,” I informed.

Noah spoke next. “You know, I noticed the to-go bag in her office one time but never put two and two together.”

Y/N linked her fingers with his to rest them in her lap. “Well, it’s a lovely place you have here. The mochi are delicious.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Well, I won’t bother you guys any longer. If you guys need anything else, let Tori or Sean know and they’d be happy to help you.”

Before I could walk away, Jolly’s fingers grazed over mine and I peered down at him.

“Thank you, käraste.”

My cheeks burned as I squeezed his hand and slipped away from them, into the confines of my office to enjoy the way the nickname set every fiber of my being ablaze.

Since it was Sunday, I always closed Fika at 5 p.m. so I could enjoy the rest of my evening at home. So for the next few hours, I spent time in my office to finish my bookwork. By quarter to five, I dismissed Tori and Sean, sending them home, and walked up front to start closing up. Nearly tripping over my feet, I was shocked to see Jolly was still sitting in his booth.

“You’re still here?” I asked, coming to a stop in front of his table.

He shrugged while closing his laptop. “I know the shop is closing soon and wanted to make sure you’re fine closing up by yourself.”

I quickly shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that, Jolly. It’ll be a while before I’m ready to leave and I can’t ask you to stay around and wait for me,”

“You didn’t ask. I offered,” he smiled while rising from the table, and going about to help me clean up.

We worked in silence as I shut down the machines and when I was shutting off the lights, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, I let Jolly lead me out the front door so I could lock it, not before setting the alarm.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Jolly asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I bit my lip and nodded.

The setting sun cast him in an orange hue, with pinks, and purples emanating from behind him and I sucked in a breath and how gorgeous he looked. We began walking step by step to the back alley where I parked my car, Jolly’s fingers grazing over mine and it was just enough contact to make my heart hammer loud and hard in my chest.

“Your friends seem really nice,” I said, finally breaking the silence, as we came to a stop in front of my car.

Jolly smiled. “They are. I love them, they’re my family.”

My lips pulled in a tight line. “It must be a nice thing to have. I’m the only family I have here.”

He picked up on the way my voice faltered with my words but didn’t want to press the issue. Instead, he lifted a hand to brush away a strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers were on the side of my neck and I let my eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“You’re welcome anytime with us, Astrid,” Jolly’s voice was hushed.

Now his fingers were wrapped behind my neck to tilt my head up towards him. Opening my eyes, I sucked in a breath at how close his lips were to mine, his warm breath fanning over my bottom lip.

“I’d like that,” I admitted with my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

His eyes scanned my face. “We’re having a small party tomorrow night. A little housewarming thing. I’d love it if you’d come.”

We were so close now, that I could almost taste his lips.

“You would?” I questioned.

Jolly eyes told me his answer before his words did. “Definitely.”

When I first opened Fika, I told myself not to fall into bed with the first handsome customer I met because it could spell disaster if things went sour. I needed to focus on my business, not let a pair of dark almond eyes distract me. And yet, here I was sinking further deeper into the abyss of those eyes.

“Sure, I’ll be there,” I said while my hand gently played with the strings of his sweater.

One of his hands was still grasped behind my neck while his other rested on my hip. “Käraste, kan jag kyssa dig?”

I blinked up at him, confusion etched on my features, and I shook my head in his grasp. “What did you say?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jolly’s voice dropped to a dangerously low level and it made my insides burn. My stomach flipped a few times over as he repeated the question in Sweden again and throwing out all the negative thoughts on how this could be a bad idea, I stood on the tips of my toes to close the small distance between us finally.

His lips were warm with the bitterness of his coffee but the sweetness of the kanelbullars. At first, we stood frozen, unsure who would make the next move, but soon Jolly’s tongue brushed against my bottom lip in a way to ask permission; one I immediately granted. His tongue glided over mine and it swallowed my moans when Jolly walked me back against my car, locking me in place with his hips.

What started as a slow, passionate kiss, suddenly became one with force. Teeth scraped against each other before biting into the flesh of lips, hands grasping at anything they could touch. Jolly's mouth never left mine as he focused solely on making every one of my senses ignite with a blaze that shot straight to my core. He held me in place with his large hands on my lower back while I ran my hands through the long strands of hair, reveling in the softness of them.

His scent engulfed my senses, making me dizzy, and when I fell into him Jolly made sure to hold me tighter. I felt the hardness of his cock pressed against my clit and dropped my head back against the car to let out a moan, one he quickly hushed by finding my lips again; almost as if he didn't want to let them go.

To let me go.

“Astrid,” he muttered against them, pressing his hips into me once again.

I was nearing release by his kiss and the gentle brush of his cock against me. My body was sensitive to his touch as rough fingers dragged down the sides of my face to pull me closer to him. Our tongues danced together in perfect harmony and I nipped then sucked on his bottom lip just before he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“Woah,” I whispered while bringing my fingers to my lips.

Jolly brushed his mouth over them in a feathery peck. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

I giggled while wrapping my arms around his back. “I’m glad we feel the same.”

We began to lead towards each other for another kiss but were interrupted by my phone going off. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Jolly to grab my phone from my purse, only to stare down at it with puzzled eyes.

“Everything alright?” Jolly asked while brushing a finger over my cheek.

I smiled into his touch and nodded. “Yeah. It seems like the cafe’s alarm is going off.”

With quick fingers, I disarmed the alarm from the app on my phone and then gazed up at him. His cheeks were flushed still from our kiss and his eyes were pure black now, pupils blown wide from his own desires.

Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to jump into the backseat of my car with him. Ride out the now fading high against his thigh.

Shaking my head at the thought, I motioned towards the cafe. “I should go check it out. Just in case.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I quickly shook my head. “No, it’s alright. I probably didn’t pull the door shut all the way so the sensor tripped. But I will see you tomorrow night?”

Jolly’s eyes lit up. “Of course. I’ll be busy helping the guys set up for the party so I might not make it in for my coffee.”

I made a show of rolling my eyes. “How will I ever survive without you?”

The corner of his mouth lifted with a smirk. “I’ll send you the address. Can you let me know everything is fine with the alarm then once you're home?”

My heart jumped into my throat at his request. “Of course. Do you need me to bring anything tomorrow?”

Jolly brought my hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “Just you, käraste.”

CONTINUE TO PART TWO HERE

#joakim jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson #jolly karlsson x ofc #jolly karlsson fanfic #joakim karlsson

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