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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 5 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided.

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point.

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy.

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings.

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since.

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months.

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped.

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling.

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely.

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent.

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh.

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little.

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach.

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there.

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion.

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress.

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was.

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking.

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched.

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder.

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch.

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one.

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you.

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.”

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.”

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction.

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly.

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog.

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?”

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand.

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered.

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress.

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright.

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl.

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around.

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders.

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back.

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle.

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips.

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave.

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance.

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration.

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you.

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl.

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true.

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly.

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime.

“Herd?” You whispered.

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed.

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol.

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer.

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair.

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand.

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed.

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do.

You were so close to being a mother.

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards.

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath.

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees.

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present.

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure.

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort?

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress.

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers.

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating.

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!”

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N.

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly.

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world.

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it.

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front.

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own.

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too.

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there.

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!”

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.”

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior.

“The head is out!”

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled.

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner.

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head.

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening.

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving.

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head.

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.”

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle.

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one.

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces.

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved.

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting.

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

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irisintheafterglow · 29 days

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in his limited spare time, bakugo katsuki volunteers at the local animal shelter.

cw: brief blood/injury, swearing, much longer than i anticipated (i got carried away) this one's for you @lees-chaotic-brain <3

you were bewildered, at first, when the top-ranking pro stomped his way through the lobby not in need of a pet, but a job. everyone's starting foundations and scholarships and shit, he grumbled when you carefully asked why he wanted to be a shelter volunteer. i don't need any of that flashy shit. just wanna do something that makes a difference. you declined to point out that his job was making a difference in people's lives and wordlessly handed him the clipboard with the signup paperwork.

a few days later, he listens diligently during volunteer training and doesn't so much as wrinkle his nose when he enters the urine-stenched kennels on the walking tour. he stalks around the perimeter of the concrete building, barely flinching when the more aggressive dogs flash their sharp teeth. as the tour moves on to the cat cottages, you linger behind and watch him determinedly take a seat in front of the loudest and largest dog, a 90-pound shepherd mix who was also the longest resident of the shelter.

"she was mistreated, i think," you say as the room quiets until the only dog barking was the one snarling at bakugo. he doesn't look at you but acknowledges your words with a simple nod, looking carefully at the defensive animal in front of him. "i call her daisy."

"how long's she been here?"

"over a year and a half," you reply, approaching daisy's kennel and having a seat next to bakugo. his eyes flicker to you for only a moment before returning to the dog. "i was the one who received her when animal control brought her in."

"she trusts you," he observes. daisy has resorted to quiet growling from the corner closest to you, her fur sticking through the metal frame of the door. she allows you to brush your fingers against it, trembling against your touch while never taking her eyes off of the man beside you.

"we've been here the same amount of time," you confirm. "though only one of us is allowed to come and go," you add with a sad smile, fishing out a piece of bacon from your treat pouch and handing it to her through the bars.

"you ever think about takin' her home?"

"i want to, but i don't have enough space for her." you sigh, slipping her a chunk of cheddar cheese. daisy focuses more on the food than on bakugo, placated for the time being. "and, i need her to at least tolerate men if i want to get her out of this place. i just don't know how." he hums in assent and you don't exchange another word as he follows you out of the building, leaving daisy curled up in her corner.

---

"he's out of his mind."

"is he trying to get himself killed?"

"we're gonna have to put her down if he keeps this up," is the whisper of gossip that snaps you out of your workspace, prompting you to join the crowd at the window.

"what's going on?"

"that pro, dynamight? he's trying to tame that girl of yours," one of your fellow volunteers replies. "took a bag of treats and disappeared into the kennel ten minutes ago." you don't wait to hear another disapproving comment, grabbing a first aid kit and sprinting out to the building where daisy was.

you rush in, expecting to find a mess of blood and volunteer clothes, but the kennel is silent. uncharacteristically silent. he senses you when you enter, turning over his shoulder from his position seated on the floor in front of daisy.

"good, you're here. couldn't find you and all your coworkers were calling me crazy," he informs you as you sit next to him, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. "i wanna help you with her."

"respectfully, i'm not sure how that would-"

"you said she hates men, yeah? but the other day, when you were here with me, she didn't seem to mind if she was getting food in the process. we can use that." you blink at him, stunned at his willingness to train the dog deemed 'untrainable.' because of her size and her teeth, every other volunteer was terrified of even trying to feed daisy. yet, here was a newbie (albeit a very muscular one) wanting to wrestle the goliath in his first week.

"are you sure? it's gonna be a long process and i don't want to interfere with your schedule."

"what do you think sidekicks and interns are for? patrolling and catching random extras isn't good enough anymore," he states, watching daisy watch him through the dog door from the outside portion of her kennel. "i wanna do something that makes a difference."

so, with bakugo's help, you began the process of acclimatizing daisy to men. for the first few days, you would just sit in front of her kennel together for a few minutes and she would be rewarded every time she looked at bakugo without growling. then, you took her out into the yard, and he would gradually get closer as the days went on. soon enough, he could stand a few feet away without daisy so much as glancing at him, too intrigued by the sights and smells around her.

it was time for him to handfeed her.

"you're sure about this? her bite strength could easily tear off a finger," you warn him during the walk to daisy's kennel. you'd become quite the formidable team, working with daisy and efficiently completing tasks together without wasting any time. the kennels were the best they'd ever looked and smelled, and you finally felt like you were helping daisy progress. "i know you literally died and came back to life when you were in high school, but-"

"i can handle anything she throws at me, i promise."

"and you won't get pissed at her?" it was a question that you needed to muster up the courage to ask, one that poked at the back of your mind every time daisy started to frustrate bakugo. he wasn't known for being the most level-headed hero, and you were afraid of an eventual snap where he might lash out on the dog.

"hey," he begins, coming to a stop and facing you. his voice is genuine, his usual scowl replaced with stone-cold determination. "i swear that i'd rather get my heart blown up again or some shit than lay a hand on her."

"everyone says you have anger issues, bakugo. i think i'm well within my rights to be concerned," you point out and he barks out a laugh.

"i have anger issues when it comes to assholes that are purposefully assholes. i know that underneath all that anger, she's just scared," he shrugs. "that doesn't mean someone should give up on her. so, c'mon," he tilts his head in the direction of her building. "our girl's waiting."

one hour and a lifetime of coaxing later, you were sitting in the shade with daisy's head in your lap as bakugo hands her small pieces of hot dog and more cheese. the branches of the tree behind you stretch far above your head, providing shelter from the midday sun and dropping occasional leaves that daisy tried to bite from time to time. you let yourself relax, supervising while daisy continues to let bakugo feed her. every so often, you'll hear him murmur words of praise and encouragement, so soft and out of character that you'd think someone else was speaking them.

you open your eyes after a moment, not realizing that you'd closed them in the peacefulness of it all, and realize daisy is no longer in your lap. instead, she's seated next to bakugo, who lightly brushes the back of his hand against the fur under her chin. to your delight, she nudges his hand with the top of her head, letting him pet her from her eyes to where her collar sat on her neck.

"i think we reached a big accomplishment today," you whisper with a smile.

"all thanks to you," he replies. "if you hadn't believed in her, she wouldn't have been here."

"and if you hadn't have been here, she wouldn't have anyone else who believed she could change." your attention returns to daisy, who has begun sniffing around bakugo's belt in search of the treat pouch.

"oi," he says sternly but playfully. "what do you think you're doing?" for the first time in your history together, you see daisy wag her tail with someone else other than you, and she drops into a play bow in front of bakugo challengingly. "you wanna play, girl? you feel good enough with me that you wanna play?" she barks once, leaping around like a cricket in the grass.

"you heard her," you chuckle and he stands, keeping a respectful distance away from her in case she changed her mind. she doesn't, and begins bounding from one end of the yard to the other as bakugo chases after her. i'm gonna get you, clever girl, he calls after her. but you gotta catch me first, he taunts, running away from her and making her chase after him instead.

---

as with most things, good times could only last for so long.

it'd been six months since you started working with bakugo to help daisy, and a new round of volunteers were coming in for the season. with the new season came new business, and your partner abruptly cut his hours to the point where most of your work with daisy was solo. he'd given you his number on the third day of working together, but you never felt comfortable reaching out to him because you weren't sure if your relationship was at that point. it became a necessity, however, when a nepotism hire decided to undo all the work you'd done with daisy.

you heard the screaming before you registered the stamping of feet filing out of the doors and toward the dog kennels. it wasn't uncommon for a dog to spook a prospective adopter, but your heart sinks when you realize which specific kennel everyone was beginning to surround. by the time you reach daisy, she's already restrained by two large men, eyes wide and saliva dripping from her jowls. she's thrashing against her holders, and begins whining in a panic once she sees you break through the crowd.

"give her to me," you order the two large security guards that you didn't recognize. you vaguely register the idiot new-guy whose hubris told him he could handle the largest dog for an impromptu photoshoot; his arm is dripping red and his thin hair sticks to his pasty face. the guards were probably his, and any longer in their restraint would likely cause trachea damage to the poor girl. "i said, give. her. to. me."

"that dog is dangerous and needs to be put down!" you shoot the man a withering glare and forcibly yank daisy away from the men, holding her shaking body close and backing as far away from the commotion as possible. i know, i know. i've gotcha. it's okay, baby, i've gotcha, you whisper in her ear, tenderly stroking her ears pinned against her head. more men approach, seemingly to take her away, and she snaps in warning at their outstretched hands. you take the opportunity to dash out of the kennels and retreat into the lawn.

swallowing bile and your nerves, you press the call button next to his contact.

"hello?"

"hey, it-it's me from the shelter," you say, trying your best to keep your voice steady. "i-i know it's sudden and you're probably busy..."

"are you two okay? i'm on my way now." you barely hear the sound of him barking out orders and slamming a door, followed by the sound of explosives blasting.

"i-yes, we're okay...i think," you sputter out, the adrenaline in your veins turning to anxiety and leaving you just as shaken as the dog hiding beside you. "she-she bit a new guy. he's a fucking idiot but his parents are big investors in the shelter, so he's trying to get her put down." your voice breaks and you push down a sob, your hand barely able to hold the phone still. "i don't know what to do and they won't listen to me and i don't know how to tell them and-"

"it's okay, sweetheart, just breathe." his voice is calm and collected in stark contrast to the furious sounds of blasting propelling him toward the shelter.

"katsuki, i don't want them to take her away," you whisper helplessly, your eyes following the line of people approaching you in the yard. it's the first time you're addressing bakugo by his first name, and you wish it was under better circumstances. "they're coming to take her away. i don't-i don't want them to take her-"

"i'm here. stay where you are, i'll take care of them," he grunts before you hear the beep beep beep of the phone being hung up. true to his word, he reaches you before your coworkers and the security guards do, hopping a few fences as a shortcut. he slips in front of you like a shield, formidable and intimidating in his hero costume that he didn't have time to change out of.

"mr. bakugo, please stand aside," your boss says, giving you a sympathetic look. "we need to take the dog in for an evaluation."

"and then what?" bakugo's voice is harsh and unforgiving, his scowl unrelenting. "i said," he clarifies when the group in front of him is too shocked to answer, "and then what?"

"psychological evaluation will most likely show that she is unable to be adopted," your boss explains and you catch the muscle in bakugo's jaw clench. "in that case-"

"you're gonna put down a dog that lashed out in self-defense? against an idiot who didn't bother checking that she was male-averse?"

"t-the family is incredibly important to the maintenance of the shelter, and continuing to have the dog would jeopardize our working relationship."

"that's not a fuckin' problem, then, because i'm taking her home," he states. "daisy's comin' with me. end of story." you hear the words of protest climbing out of the group's throats and are quick to back up your partner.

"she's been working with him for half a year now," you interject. "there's no man she trusts more than him. and as the one who's been taking care of her for the time she's been here," you take a needed breath, nodding at bakugo, "there's no one else i trust more, either."

"you can tell the family the dog ran away or something. i'll get her out of your hands and have my legal people clean up your shit." sensing that it's time to go, you give him the leash and daisy nudges her head into his gloved hand. "and if that asshole who disrespected her wants to take away our fucking dog, i'd love to see him try."

"our dog?" you ask quietly, catching his eye as you walk with him out of the shelter complex.

"yeah," he shrugs, his ears turning slightly pinker. "we're a team, aren't we?"

---

"oh, nice. you know that asshole that daisy bit?" you're sprawled out on the living room couch in his apartment, daisy sleeping soundly at your feet. katsuki grunts his assent from the kitchen, muttering a curse as a splash of hot oil prickles his skin. "he and his family are getting investigated for money laundering and exotic animal trafficking."

"serves them fucking right," he replies vindictively. "what about the shelter?"

"coworkers report that they're doing just fine, what with the generous donation from the dynamight agency and all."

"any bigs they're tryna wrangle?"

"not at the moment, no," you say, peeking over the edge of the couch and smiling at daisy's tongue sticking out of her sleepy mouth. "but they promise they'll call us if one arrives."

"that's good. i'm happy with that," he concludes, throwing a potholder onto the coffee table and setting a sizzling pan of something yummy-smelling on top. "how's that look, partner?"

"as good as the one who made it," you flirt, and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. "is the chef single?"

"nope," he remarks with a wink, settling his entire body weight on top of you so that his head rests on your chest. "and i wouldn't want anyone else." daisy pops her head up from the floor and shakes herself, happily licking your boyfriend's face as he squirms away. "okay, okay! you're an important part of my life as well, you silly fuckin' dog."

"you sure she'll be okay at work with you?" your fingers card through katsuki's hair and his eyes flutter shut, relishing in the way your nails feel on his scalp.

"'course she will. she passed the bomb-sniffing test with flying colors. she's smart and she's loyal. she'll do just fine," he reassures you. "and we couldn't have gotten here without you."

"you're the one who practically stole her from the shelter," you remind him teasingly and his laugh reverberates against your ribcage. "daisy," you cautioned as she looks hungrily at the pan of food. "that's not for you. dad'll make you something to eat later. go back to sleep, for now." the dog gives a single woof of reluctant acknowledgement before settling into her plush bed in the corner. "thank you, katsuki."

"you haven't even tried the food yet, you doofus," he mumbles with his eyes shut against your chest.

"i mean thank you for believing in her, doofus."

"duh. it's easy to believe in the people you love."

"people and dogs," you correct.

"mhmm," he smiles, content with the little family you'd helped him form, despite the obstacles. "and dogs."

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thef1diary · 8 months

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Hii can you write an angsty fic with Daniel with these prompts: "Just play along, please!" & "I can't do this any longer, I just can't!"

Play Along | D. Ricciardo

Summary: You were in a fake relationship with Daniel, and inevitably, you started to fall for him. Unfortunately, those feelings weren't returned.

Warnings: angst, Daniel is a sweetheart and an asshole at the same time, heartbreak.

pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established fake relationship)

wc: 2k

thef1diary 1k celebration

Daniel walked over to your side and opened the car door, then extended his hand for you to accept. Once he helped you out, he closed the door behind you but didn't move a step away.

His hand came up to your cheek, the roughness of his palm only making you blush. You were easily mesmerized by simple eye contact, especially whenever he looked at you like you were everything to him.

Then, he slowly closed the gap between you, placing a short but sweet lingering kiss on your lips before moving to your cheek. "Daniel," you muttered, completely confused by his actions that you almost forgot to kiss back.

Bringing his lips closer to your ear, he whispered, "cameras are watching, pretend like you're in love with me."

Of course. That's where the affection sprouted from. You managed to put a smile on your face but you couldn't pretend to love him. It wasn't an act on your side anymore, you had already fallen for him a few weeks ago but he had no idea.

Daniel moved away, but offered his arm for you to hold, an action that only made others think you two were truly together.

Your relationship, or rather the contract, started a year ago. It was pretty straightforward, Daniel needed someone to play the act of his girlfriend, and you needed money. You didn't think much of it when you signed, only focusing on the amount you earned monthly which was more than enough to live comfortably. It was a win-win situation.

Before signing, Daniel took you out for coffee casually as one of his requirements was to at least be with someone that he would get along with. Even though you quickly found out he was one of the kindest and friendliest person you met, you never thought that you'd be the one catching feelings.

It was one of the rules he was adamant on, among multiple others. "You won't fall in love with me right?" He asked making you almost choke on your coffee then burst out laughing.

However, he didn't laugh at all, which was very unlike him. "Oh you're serious?" You asked, composing yourself. He nodded, "we can be friends sure, but I can't give you anything more than that so don't expect it."

"I won't, this is just a contract, a business transaction even," you stated, not knowing how much you would regret those words.

His arm was placed on your lower back as you entered the banquet hall. Truthfully, you had no idea what the event was about, only knowing that Daniel was a respected guest. He had invited you as his plus-one, and frankly that's all he needed from you.

Daniel was introducing you—as his girlfriend—to some of the important people of the night. But all you could focus on was the way his palm rested on your back, the heat noticeable through your dress.

When he spoke your name, you finally focused on the conversation happening in front of you. "Sorry?"

He chuckled at your confusion, "do you want to tell them the story of how we met?"

You two had a good story memorized, exactly for a moment like this whenever someone would ask. But, you started thinking about how different your lives would be if it were true.

"We met at a café, I was just trying to enjoy my coffee but he tripped over his own feet right next to me," you spoke, making Daniel's eyes widen because that wasn't the exact version of the story you agreed upon.

He still laughed and played along, like he always does. "Some could say I tripped just to get your attention." You playfully slapped his chest, "and you say I fell first but you did, quite literally."

"You might've, but I fell harder, quite literally," he let out a boisterous laugh at his own joke and you couldn't help but join him.

For a short moment, you forgot that there were people around you. But then again, the only time Daniel was this flirty with you was around others.

"That's adorable," the person who you didn't remember the name of said. You tuned out of the conversation again as it didn't include you anymore.

Once again, Daniel nudged you but this time the other person walked away but you didn't exactly remember when. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded but he didn't believe it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Daniel, I think I just need a drink." He smiled, "it's an open bar, let's go get one." He didn't focus on the fact that you didn't use his nickname like you usually did.

After ordering the drinks, he stood facing you, a smile on his face but you knew him well enough to know it wasn't genuine. At least not in this fake situation.

A few other people came up to Daniel for short conversations, and as you watched him laugh, you thought of how your last year was spent with him.

Daniel followed through on his promise of becoming friends when he showed up at your apartment one day with takeout bags in his hands, because you mentioned that you were really stressed lately.

While you didn't end up getting any work done that night, Daniel kept you company and diverted your mind away from all the stress. You remember how your stomach hurt the next day with how much you laughed.

Other times, he would spoil you. Despite the fact that he paid you for the act, and that too was a lot of money, he still bought you anything you wanted.

It started with going shopping with him, and he would carefully keep an eye on your likes and dislikes. Once he was confident in his choices, he would send you gifts even if he wasn't with you.

On your birthday, you were surprised with a large bouquet of roses, with various pieces of expensive jewelry. A few weeks before your birthday, you and Daniel went shopping and while you loved each piece of jewelry, you didn't end up buying it.

Unbeknownst to you, Daniel went back a few hours later to buy every single bracelet, necklace, and anything else you showed any sort of interest in.

After all that, spending time with him, you started seeing him more as a lover than a friend. The day you acknowledged that thought, you knew it would hurt to leave.

It seemed like zoning out was a habit of yours tonight, because Daniel had to call your name twice before you heard him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, showing a hint of worry in his tone. You looked around the ballroom, watching a few people dance while others were huddled together in small groups to converse.

You turned your gaze back towards him, "this is kind of boring, sorry, I'm just not interested anymore."

Instead of judging you, he nodded, "it is, do you want to leave?"

"What?" Your confusion made Daniel look at you with amusement present in his eyes. "We've been here long enough so we can leave. I'm craving fries and a burger anyways." He spoke casually.

Waiting for your response, Daniel brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest on your cheek for a few seconds too long.

"Daniel," your own hand rested on top of his, and when you made direct eye contact with him, that's when your restraint snapped.

"We can stop by that one fast food place you like," he added to convince you but he had no idea of the inner turmoil that you were burdened with, finally becoming too much to handle.

"No, I can't, I'm sorry," you spoke, confusing him but you didn't wait for his response. Moving his hand away, you swiftly walked towards the exit.

Daniel wasn't too far behind, calling your name but you couldn't listen to him anymore. His voice was too sweet, too full of confusion, and you really wanted to go back. But you knew if you continued the act, you wouldn't be able to stop.

As soon as you were outside, under the night sky, Daniel rushed towards you and grasped your hand to stop you. "What's going on?"

You ran your free hand through your hair, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry, Daniel, I can't do this anymore," you started.

"Do what?"

"Act. I can't pretend to be your girlfriend anymore, I know we had an agreement but I'm backing out now," you stressed, and Daniel held your other hand or else you would’ve been pacing back and forth by now.

"You can't leave whenever you feel like it. Just play along, please!" He responded, trying to understand what the reasoning behind your decision could be.

You shook your head, "I can't do this any longer, I just can't."

"Why not?" He finally decided to ask. You hesitated because you knew it was time to tell him the truth. “Because I'm in love with you, Danny, and we need to stop pretending before I think it's real on your end too."

Daniel's mouth opened and then closed, as he didn't know how to respond, "but-" he tried but you were quick to cut him off. "Is it?"

"What?" He asked, making you sigh, "is it real for you too?" You forced the words out, but when he didn't have a response, your heart broke.

This time, it was all your own fault. You knew he didn't feel anything for you, not like you felt for him, and by asking if he did, you were only setting yourself up for heartbreak.

"Exactly," you stated once the silence hung in the air for a few seconds too long. It felt suffocating, but you had to continue, "you told me that I couldn't fall in love with you, but I did. That should be enough of a reason for you to let me go."

Daniel couldn't find the right words, and you assumed it was because he couldn't disagree with you. He couldn't tell you that he loved you, he didn't, so he didn't say anything at all.

"I'm sorry. You're a good guy, Daniel, a great guy in fact, and I'm sure that you'll find someone else who's willing to play along. Someone who won't fall for you."

The harsh wind blew your hair, and perhaps you could lie to yourself and claim that the wind was the reason your eyes teared up. But, you knew better.

You looked at him once more, and right before a tear finally slipped out of your eye, you turned away. You didn't want to cry in front of him, even if he was the cause of it.

He found his voice, and called out for you. "Can I at least drop you home? You're gonna fall sick."

You smiled, but he couldn’t see your face so he didn’t notice how it didn’t reach your eyes, "no, thank you,” you spoke loud enough to the empty space in front of you. Your decision was final.

Daniel didn't watch you walk away, he turned in the other direction once he realized you weren’t coming back. He walked towards his car, as there was no reason to stay at the event without you. There would be too many questions and he wasn't ready to deal with that.

Especially not when he just found out that you were in love with him. He didn't know what to think, so he decided not to think at all.

Turning up the music to an unbelievably loud volume that prevented him from listening to his own thoughts, he drove away. While he wasn’t constantly thinking of you, the thought of you remained in the back of his mind, knowing that it would come forth to haunt him in a few days.

#di celebrates #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #thef1diary fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 angst #angst

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rogueddie · 8 months

Text

Trinkets of Affection T | 700 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is not in the big things but in the small ones

Steve is Eddies first serious relationship. Even when he fantasized about what his future love life might be, he never thought he could get anything even close to what Steve gives him.

He loves with everything he is, Eddie quickly realized. If there's anything he can think of that might make Eddie smile, he does it. He turns up with flowers, or mixtapes, or rings.

One time he'd turned up with a paper rose that he'd made himself. He explained that he had thought Eddie might like things that were made, that took effort, more than expensive things.

He's right, of course.

But it all builds up, and Eddie wants to give Steve things too.

The first thing Eddie thinks to get him is a ring. He's noticed how much Steve's eyes linger on his own, how often he'll start playing with Eddie's rings when they hold hands, how he has favorites.

He can't simply buy Steve some ring he thinks he might like though. Anyone could do that. Eddie wants it to be special.

So, he digs through the tub he uses to organise all his rings. He separates them into two piles; rings he wears, and one he won't miss.

It's almost too easy to find one that Steve will like.

But, looking it over, he starts to doubt himself. Especially because it's not one of the rings he bought- it's the one he made.

The ring is painfully simple, and poorly made. Eddie is surprised it's lasted as long as it had.

It's little more than a a plain silver band with a cool rock he found on the ground stuck onto it. He can't even remember what he used to get it on there.

He had been so proud though. He had wanted to do something, and he did it.

He only hopes that he's right in thinking that Steve is as sentimental as Eddie thinks he is. That, or he also likes cool rocks.

"A gift?" Steve teases, immediately. "Aw, for me?"

"It's not much, it's..." Eddie awkwardly pulls the ring out, keeping it hidden in his fist. "I made it, like, years ago and... that seems like something you'd think was cool. Or, uh, romantic. Right?"

"Very romantic."

"Ok, uh... here."

Steve stares at the ring, dropped onto his palm, for a horrifyingly long amount of time.

"I know it's not-"

"You made this?" Steve cuts him off. He finally looks up at Eddie, with an unreadable expression.

"Well... yeah. I was only, like, thirteen so it's not very... uh... pretty?"

"What? No, Eds, this is- this is perfect."

He shifts the ring in his hands, before trying to squeeze it onto his pinky finger. It only just fits.

"I can get you something better."

Steve snorts, still looking at the ring as he turns his hand so he can see the different angles. "Good fucking luck," he mumbles.

Steve doesn't take the ring off that day, or that week, or ever. Eddie isn't sure he ever does take it off, outside of taking a shower.

"I don't want it to get, like, water damage!" Steve explained, when Eddie asked.

"It's just... isn't it annoying?" Eddie tried. "Wearing it all the time? It's clunky and-"

"And I like it. You made this, Eds. It's not a small thing to me."

"It's just a rock."

"Sure it is."

"Steve-"

"Eddie," Steve's tone is sharp enough that Eddie's mouth snaps shut. "This is something you made. It's your ring, and I get to wear it. Like... I can't tell everyone how much I love you, but this way I can at least show them."

"... oh."

"You get it now?"

"That- yeah. Yeah, I get it."

Steve glances around the shop before leaning in, stealing a quick kiss, before turning to the shelf in front of them. "Good. So, I was thinking this one might fit better. What do you think?"

"Yeah, it looks great."

But his eyes are still trained in Steve. He grins, barely paying attention to what he goes on to rant about, too lost in how his heart flutters when he glances down at his hand, at the ring he still wears.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

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mcsstydia · 2 months

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Faking it - Finnick Odair

prompt: you won the hunger games, now snow forces you to sell your body. your mentor, finnick odair, proposes the both of you fake a relationship so the capitol citizens won’t be interested in you anymore.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

Warnings: mentions of forced sexual labor

word count: 2.2k

Masterlist

You won the hunger games. After weeks of fighting to survive, of hiding, of pure fright, of killing children who were not much older than you, you won the games. Now, a lifetime of glory and wealth awaited you, right?

You could have never been more wrong. You could have guessed that there was a flaw to what was promised to you. Sometimes, before and also after the games, your mentor, finnick odair, would look at you with a kind of concealed sadness, as if he knew there was something just as bad as the games would wait for you once you survived.

Finnick was 19, only two years older than you, but you had a feeling sometimes you could see in his eyes he had already endured a lifetime worth of pain. Turns out, your feeling was right about the amount of pain his heart had to carry.

Two months after you've won the games, when you've returned home, on a late Wednesday afternoon, Finnick rang the bell at your new house in the victor village. As you opened the door, you were unexpectedly greeted with the handsome man that was Finnick Odair. You had had a crush on him for forever, and it had only intensified during the time where he was your mentor.

Your stomach began to turn in nervous circles. Why was he here? Did he come to see you? Spend time with you even? Wait, that was not it. You could see it in his face. You were good at reading him.

His gaze rose from where it had been previously fixed on the ground to meet yours. There it was again, that sadness. ''What happened?'', you asked, scared it had to do with your mother, who was out of the house for the evening. ''Your mother is alright.'', Finnick said calmly, as if having read your mind.

You visibly relaxed and exhaled. Nonetheless, your grip around the edge of the door did not loosen. ''Then what it is?'', you asked anxiously, trying to seem collected, composed. But Finnick knew you almost as well as you did him.

''Can I come inside?'', he asked in turn. You nodded silently, your body began buzzing with anxiety. The pleasant turns your stomach initially performed upon seeing Finnick had now turned into unpleasant ones. Finnick headed for your living room and you followed him blindly. He pulled up an armchair and gestured you to take place on the couch. He placed the armchair so it was right in front of the couch. Both of you sat down, and then he gently took both of your hands into his large, warm ones.

This is how bad it was? Normally, you would jump in the air at the touch of his hands on your skin. Now, you could feel the colour draining from your face and the warmth leaving your hands in dread of what was to come.

''Just tell me'', you demanded. You knew he would search for the best way to tell you, to somehow sugar-coat it. Finnick looked at you, and you knew he could see in your eyes that this was what you needed.

''Snow sells the good-looking winners to the citizens of the capitol. At least their body. And now he wants to sell you.'', he said. For a moment, the information had to sink in. Then, you could feel the remaining control you had had over your facial muscles seep away. All expression fell from your face, your eyes made no effort to conceal the tears that came flooding in, and your hands began shaking in the gentle hold Finnick had on them.

His grip around your hands strenghtened, but stayed gentle. ''No…'', you managed to breath out, shaking your head in disbelief. You could feel all the strength leaving your body. Finnick seemed to notice, or he had anticipated it, because he caught your head as it fell toward him, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face. A thought came to your mind about the person you cared most for in this world. In between ragged breaths, you managed to ask ''Did he do it to you?'' The look in his eyes was all you needed to know it was true.

Loud, ugly sobs escaped your lips and you made no effort to hide them. Finnick made no effort to calm you, he knew there was no point in telling you it was all going to be okay. ''I've got you,'', he whispered into single strands of hair, your head still in his hands.

He rocked your body back and forth in an attempt to tell you he was there, and he wouldn't leave. He had begun to do that on the first night after your name was drawn for the games. You had been in the train on your way to the capitol, as he found you on the floor, weeping. He held you the whole night, until you had finally managed to fall asleep. He had rocked you gently, had promised to get you out of the arena alive.

At this point, you had thought he would tell that to every young girl he would mentor. Now, you came to the tentative conclusion that you meant something to him.

Suddenly, he whispered, ''I have a plan,''. The sentence brought you back to reality. His hands never leaving your face, you managed to lift your head just so much as to be able to look in his eyes. His beautiful face was blurred by the tears still in your eyes, and by your already-swollen eyelids. He looked at you with concern, and care, and suddenly you knew you were anything to him but simply another tribute he had to mentor.

You realised you were more than important to him. His next sentences only proved how much you meant to him. ''I won't let him do that to you,'', he began, wiping away one of your tears with his thumb. You could also see fear in his eyes, but it was fear for your wellbeing, for your life.

''It's risky,'', he continued and breathed in. ''But I would risk it, for you.'', a deeper meaning of his words hung in the air, but it was not important now. ''If we fake to be in a relationship, Snow can't sell you. The capitol citizens would then never want to tear us apart.'', he explained. His word registered in your head, and the word fake sent a painful, but quickly fading, stab into your chest.

''Would they believe it?'', you asked. Finnick allowed himself to smile, and his fingers carressed your cheeks. You thought you could read him well, but you weren't so sure now. His expression screamed 'of course they'll believe us, look at how in love I am with you', but he couldn't really think that. He couldn't. You would know if he had feelings for you, and you were sure he did not.

Something brought him back from his thoughts into the situation. So he said, ''I hope they do. That's why I said it's risky. If they do not believe it, if Snow does not believe it, we would be in a lot of trouble.'' You pressed your lips together, and then nodded. ''Why would you do that for me?'', you asked, and then imeediately wanted to take the question back.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ''Because I care about you.'', he whispered, holding your gaze. ''Once we do this,'', he continued. ''there's no going back. It will be us against the world, probably until we die. Do you realize that?'', he asked.

For once, you hoped he could not read your face, or your thoughts for that matter. Did you realize that? Yes. Was it scary? Of course. But was it scary because that meant you had to spend the rest of your life with him? No. That was the only part of this whole thing that sounded like heaven. Instead of telling him any of this, you nodded as an answer.

The next weeks Finnick and you prepared your 'relationship'. You got to know each other better, to make it seem as realistic as possible that you were in love. Many nights were spent like this, quietly, so as even your mother would not know. Many nights ended with your head in his lap, with his fingers running through your hair. Many nights, in which the both of you fell asleep on your couch, or in his bed, all the while holding on to each other.

When your victory tour began, while visiting the districts, you made apparent that you were a couple. Word quickly got out about the new power couple of victors. On the nights on the train, Finnick often lay next to you, to hold you through your cries. It was agonizing to visit the districts of the children who died in the games you were a part of.

Your new relationship was so important to the capitol citizens, that, once in the capitol, both finnick and you were invited to Ceasar Flickerman's show. So you sat there, with Finnick next you, his hand in yours. You had gotten used to the pleasant feeling that was ilicited whenever he touched you. You had gotten used to having him near, so it was not hard to appear happy next to him. It had never been, though.

The people loved you. Everyone adored the two of you together. So much so, that president Snow let go of forcing you into selling your body to the citizens of the capitol. For now.

For now, you were on your way back home from the capitol to district 4. For now, there was the slight hope that things would stay that way, and it was all thanks to Finnick. On this first night on your way back home, you hadn't asked Finnick to come into your room. He had spent the night next to you for the whole of the victory tour, calming you down, holding you when you cried.

But now? You thought Finnick was tired of taking care of you every night. You thought Finnick deserved a night to himself. After all, he wouldn't get many of those anymore that you were in a 'relationship' with him. So you lay there, on your bed, your hands neatly folded on your stomach, your thoughts almost as loud as the train on the tracks. When the doors to your compartment opened, you sat up in your bed, startled and scared. It was only when you saw that it was Finnick who entered, that you relaxed again. Somewhy, you stood up from your bed out of reflex. Finnick looked agitated, and for a moment you feared he brought bad news again. His mouth stood slightly agape, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes frantically scanned your body.

''I don't want to sleep without you,'', he suddenly blurted out. Shock was an understatement. You couldn't help yourself. ''What?'', you brought out as an answer.

The usually calm, confident Finnick he could so easily present himself as for the cameras was nowhere to be seen. He seemed scared, agitated, and lost all at once. ''I-..'', he began tentatively, and took a step toward you.

''I don't want to sleep without you. I don't want to, and I can't, for that matter, when you are not next to me, when I don't know you're safe, when I cannot feel your body next to mine.'' Although he obviusly tried to explain himself, you were no smarter than before.

Finnick could see that you were not sure what he was trying to tell you. He took a few steps until he stood directly in front of you. He took your face into his hands. ''This,'', he continued, gesturing to the two of you. ''It was never fake to me. I never wanted it to be fake. I love you. I have loved you for a long, long time, and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life.'', finally, he seemed to exhale of what seemed to have been a breath he had held for a long time.

Tears began pooling in your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness. ''Oh Finnick Odair, are you really so blind as to think I ever wanted it to be fake? I am madly in love with you.'', you finally confessed, and a grin so wide he had never managed to fake for the cameras spread across his lips.

''And now, kiss me, please,'', to any other person, this would have sounded like begging. But it was Finnick, and it was you, and you were both so madly in love nothing else mattered.

So Finnick did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he leaned down, and let his lips brush against yours. After that, it was instant. You both were so hungry for each other, so desperate to finally be able to touch each other in a way you had only dreamed of.

Hands were tangled in hair, and roamed the body of the other. Your lips and teeth clashed against one another, but the kissing erupted feelings in your stomach, and heart, and the whole body, really, that you had never thought could exist. When you broke apart, the both of you giggled, caressed each other's skin, and placed delicate kisses here and there.

That night, you fell asleep in each other's arms again, kissing, holding each other. For the first time in a long time, you weren't scared of the future, because you knew either way, you would spend it with Finnick.

#thg #finnick odair #finnick odair thg #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #sam claflin imagine #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark #peeta mellark imagine #finnick odair fanfiction

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crheativity · 2 months

Note

Hi! Thank you for doing this event! This is such a cute prompt idea, I love it! Would it be alright if I use it in the future?

And could I request Ruggie at 11:38PM in the Savannaclaw laundry room?

WARNINGS: None! Very cute and wholesome :D COMMENTS: Hello! Thank you so much! I don’t mind at all hehe, these are fun to write :D I hope you enjoy this, sorry it took so long!!

It had been six hours and twenty-seven minutes since Ruggie Bucchi went AWOL.

Typically, on a busy day like today, he’d send you a short text explaining that he’d be busy for a while and couldn’t chat. He always messaged you as soon as he could after that, so that you knew he was free again.

Only this time, he hadn’t texted you back.

For the first little while, you figured whatever he had been doing was just taking longer than he’d thought. But when four hours had come and gone with no sign from him, you started to get a bit nervous. At five hours, you were checking your phone every couple minutes. At six, you’d put on your jacket and rushed out of Ramshackle.

The night was cold and eerie as you slowly made your way to the Savannaclaw dorm. You kept your eyes peeled for any sign of Ruggie as you got closer and closer, but there was no sign of him.

Upon arriving at Savannaclaw, you carefully made your way to Ruggie’s room, keeping as silent as possible. You figured that in a dorm full of beastmen, they probably knew you were there anyway, but you still didn’t want to disturb them if you could avoid it.

You finally stood in front of Ruggie’s room, thinking hard. What if he’d just forgotten to text you, and was currently enjoying some much-needed rest? You hesitated.

Well, if he didn’t want to be disturbed, he should’ve remembered to text me.

You knocked on the door.

Silence.

“Ruggie? It’s me.” You kept your voice low and quiet as you knocked again.

Still nothing.

“I’m coming in.” You paused and waited for a protest. Nothing came, so you opened the door.

Ruggie Bucchi was not in his bed, nor in his room.

He was simply gone.

You felt your heart start to race. Where in twisted wonderland was he?!

You pulled out your phone, scrolling past the slightly embarrassing amount of texts you’d sent to try and get his attention. He hadn’t sent anything to insinuate what exactly he’d be doing.

You thought back on your conversations earlier that day, trying to figure out where he could possibly be. Ruggie had been complaining about all the work that he had to do for Leona. More specifically, he’d been making fun of Leona for not knowing how to even wash his own clothes.

Wait. Wash his own clothes…

You turned and hastily made your way to the Savannaclaw Laundry room, racking your brains for anywhere else he could be.

Turns out, thinking of other options was entirely unnecessary.

Curled up on a pile of freshly dried laundry, Ruggie Bucchi lay fast asleep. His hair drooped messily over his eyes, arms still clutching a half-empty laundry basket. He looked eerily peaceful. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this relaxed before. You pulled out your phone and snapped a quick photo, before shoving your phone in your back pocket and crouching down beside him, looking through the washing.

You grabbed a clean, lukewarm blanket from the pile and gently draped it over him. He, still asleep, snuggled into it with a cosy smile on his face.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

You froze, unsure if he was awake or asleep. If he was awake - or at least, half awake - then what he said could’ve been legit, right…? Or maybe it was just him dreaming of someone he loved, like his grandma or something. It didn’t necessarily mean you… did it? You were suddenly very aware of how fast your heart was beating.

You sighed and sat down next to him, adjusting yourself until you were also comfortable. It was late and you were starting to get tired.

Might as well stay here for the night, you thought. I can give Ruggie an earful tomorrow…

You tossed another blanket over yourself and shifted until you were comfortable. As sleep slowly began to pull you into its warm embrace, you could’ve sworn you felt a calloused but gentle hand take yours.

♥ Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it! ♥

#Rhea's TWST Fics~!#200 follower celebrheation event!#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #Ruggie #Ruggie Bucchi #Ruggie Bucchi x reader #Ruggie x reader #twst fanfic #twst

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hrtbreakanniversary · 2 years

Text

love me low | neteyam sully

Baby, I just wanna kiss you Stay until the day is done You don't even know just how much I need you Baby, I just wanna keep you

summary: y/n is in love with her best friend's brother but he's in love with her sister.

pairing: neteyam sully x f!omatikaya reader

word count: 10k

playlist: love me low - ai bendr, yes to heaven - lana del rey, umaasa- calein, xo - beyonce, cloud 9 - beach bunny, i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys, about you - the 1975, here with me - d4vd, can i - alina baraz & galimatias, moment - lildeath

warnings: aged up (neteyam and kiri are 18 whilst lo'ak and y/n are 17), misunderstanding trope!, jealously, protectiveness, talks of marriage, unhealthy family dynamic, assault, y/n is super hard on herself and cares about others more, blood, war, profanity, suggestive

She knew this was a bad idea from the get go. Despite the Olo'eyktan warnings to not wander out after dark for the sake of safety, his own son had come to her as the orange hue of the horizon seeped through the cave's openings to speak of a new area he found in the forest.

Trying to reject the younger Sully never really worked for Lo'ak was always persistent to take his best friend on whatever not so bright idea he had planned in his head.

Additionally, she would do anything to get out of her home. The constant berating from her mother and calling her every second to do something because her sister's precious hands couldn't bear to get rough from using them.

At first, nothing was wrong. Like always, she would follow the male and the human (a term she learned from Kiri because calling him an alien was far too mean), Spider, as he ran and swung through the trees before they stopped at a place she has never seen before. Vines that hung from the tree branches above. A question formed on her tongue but Lo'ak was already climbing up the trunk, his eyes set on a thick branch that stuck out high off the ground.

It was already too late to back out so she followed, having no idea what the male Na'vi was planning to do but she always knew that no matter what, he was going to shove off his skills as if he were performing for a circus. She didn't know what a circus was but she would always hear Olo'eyktan mumbling under his breath of how much of a complete circus it was whenever something didn't go to plan specifically because of his middle child.

At first, it was all fun and games. Despite the suspense, the fun he spent all night talking was about swinging on the extravagant amount of vines. Screams and laughs filled the air as the three took turns going back and forth on the long vine, the momentum allowing them to go from tree to tree.

They were having a lot of fun.

So she couldn't blame Lo'ak for how she ended up with her head being seconds away from becoming a meal for baby palulukans. While the other two tied the vines around their waist, she decided to be different and tie the rope to her ankle instead. Cheers filled the air once again as she spread her arms out to the refreshing wind. She swung back and forth at least three times. In the corner of her eye, she saw the herd coming from afar that prompted her to stiffen her posture. That would lead to her failure as gravity would take it's course, causing her to be hanging upside down.

Trying to untie the vine from her ankle took a lot of upper body strength that she was struggling to pull out at the moment. The two males atop of the tree too were struggling to pull up her up because of the many factors: how the long rope, gravity, and mind her language… fucking weak they are.

A scream, now out of fear, came out when she felt the snap of thanator jump through the air but missed by a couple of feet as she was still a bit off the ground.

Although there was only a handful of these little creatures here at the moment, she knew she was seconds away from the number of them multiplying by the seconds.

"Hey, hey! Help me up!” Y/N kept doing sit ups midair to avoid losing body parts from her heads. She could hear the bickering of the two from above and the vine budging at every attempt they had to try to pull her up. “You two have 10 fingers each. Use them, skxawngs!"

"I'd be nicer to the ones saving your life!" She didn’t know who did said that but that was the least of her worries since the vine did not shorten, it got longer. The snaps of the animals getting closer to her head. The probability of them taking off her head at 90% possibility now.

She heard their shouts of fear but a hum rang through her ears, cloudiness blurring her eyes as the blood rushed to her head.

In the moment of losing her consciousness, the herd had ran off in the other direction for who knows what reason before another blurred figure jumped into her view. They stepped down and stood in front of her, their face merely centimeters away from hers. Features familiar to the one of the fools that was still struggling to pull her back up.

It was when he sighed when she realized who it was. Neteyam.

From both trying to readjust how she looked while also trying to get her foot out of the stupid vine, she looked even more ridiculous when she fell into the field of grass below her from the vine cutting cut from above. Her legs and arms flared out in awkward positions.

Neteyam ran to her side, pushing back the hair that fell in front of her face and kept his hand on her cheek, “Are you okay?” His other hand quick to adjust her loincloth that went out of place.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Her cheeks feeling hot as she melted into his touch before her head flew to the side from him shoving her head.

“Now, what were you thinking?” Always too good to be true. She didn’t fight back when he helped her up from the ground.

Lo’ak and Spider came down from the tree, running over, “Brother, what a surprise to see you out here!” His shoulders folding back to mock Neteyam’s straight posture, “I see we all had the same idea of taking a late night walk.”

“Are you three insane? Are you asking for a death wish?”

All joking subsided, “We had it all handled. We’re just trying to have fun.”

“Have fun? Have fun?” Neteyam scoffed," This is what you call having fun? Somebody almost died." Lo'ak waved him off which only prompted the older male to continue," You both need to grow up. You're almost 18 and you're going to have to start acting like adults."

Lo'ak rolled his eyes," Then ask yourself why you followed us out here. Surely, you didn't think that Y/N was going to have a near death experience so why are you here, bro? What is that saying that the sawtute always say? FOMO? Fun out when more out?"

"It's fear of missing out." Y/N and Spider whispered to not interrupt the brothers' daily quarrel, eyeing one another in amusement.

Neteyam looked away in defeat that made Lo'ak proud," And we did have it handled. You came right when we had it." And although he said it with such confidence, his eyes diverted away because he knew he was wrong and he walked away before anyone could say anything.

"Handled, he says", Spider elbowed Y/N's side," The only thing that would be handled is there would be no horrendous singing on the way back."

She threw herself forward to jump on Spider but a hand grabbed her back, Spider sticking his tongue out at her before he caught up to Lo'ak. Her heart quickened again. Her eyes wandering from her arm to his hand, up his arm, and to his face.

"He's not wrong. How do you think I managed to find you? I followed where it seemed Eywa was covering her ears." Quick to act as if she wasn't staring at him when he looked down at her, Y/N shoved at his chest that moved up and down from laughter with her free hand with a roll of her eyes. Though he didn't budge, instead moving his hand away to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

She knew the way he touched her meant it no other way than platonic. Talks about the girls who also had eyes for him about how he is not affectionate towards others unless they are apart of his direct family. Y/N has been in this family for longer than she hasn't. Growing up with all of them had put her farther than what could be considered the friend zone but into the family zone.

She also knew that what she felt for him was different. There wasn't a time that she could pinpoint where she started to see him in a different light but it felt like she has forever. That she has loved him since forever.

As he talked to Lo'ak and Spider, her eyes had a mind of her own as she looked back up at him. Watching as the night sky illuminated his freckles.

The ride back was short but felt long. Despite Lo’ak not caring about Neteyam’s lectures, all of them dreaded Jake’s scoldings.

Y/N had to admit that he was intimidating but she knew his rough attitude was for ensuring the safety of all of them even if he tends to go a little too hard on Lo'ak. She was used to it all too. Constant lectures of how she should act and getting in trouble for the most smallest of things. At least him yelling at them was from the good of his heart.

At the moment, all she could do was simply enjoy how her arms were wrapped tightly around Neteyam's torso. Just as she was about to lay her head on his back, he angled his body so she could hear him over the wind that blew through them,"So where's my thank you for saving your life?"

Y/N squinted," Has Lo'ak misspoke? Did you have a need to fill your urge to be such a knight in shining amour?"

All the air escaped her lungs when he leaned back, "Only for you.". Arching his head back, the skin of their cheek skimming each other," I like the look on your face when I do."

"Whatever." She pushed his body back into a straight up position to hide her flusteredness. But the warm feeling had faded when she saw the rest of the family awaiting their arrivals at the entrance of High Camp.

Without a word, the four diverted their eyes away to the ground as they stepped off the ikrans. After Neteyam had helped her down, Lo'ak and him stepped in front of her to block her from the death stare their father help onto them. Of course, Spider had made his way to the front and tried to convince Olo'eyktan that it was his idea but he was quickly hushed by Kiri who was quick to pull him away with Tuk from the high tension area.

Using the boy's heights to her advantage, Y/N tiptoed to the side to try to make an escape and delay the consequences of her actions but a deep clear of Jake’s throat made her stop immediately in the steps.

"I expected better from you", Although he didn't state a name, it was clear who it was directed to. "All this time that you have to be training and finding a mate, you're instead messing around and not taking anything seriously."

"Sir." Y/N finally looked up from her feet but felt instant regret when both Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem had put their attention on her. “It was my doing. I wanted Lo’ak to show me what he’s been raving about and Neteyam only followed to make sure we were safe.”

Lo’ak shook his head, “ I actually really wanted to show Y/N and Spider this place I found so it was my idea to go out into the forest.”

Olo’eyktan sighed, “ I don’t care whose fault it is.” He pointed between the two, “ You both need to grow up. Somehow when there’s something on, it’s always you two and I’m tired of having to say the same thing over and over again especially to you.” He pointed at Lo’ak. He opened his mouth as if he had more to say but Neytiri cleared her throat and it only came out as a huff, “Don’t make me find out you’re out there after dark again. I don’t even want to look at you two right anymore, dismissed.”

It wasn't until they heard their footsteps of the couple stray far away did they look up at one another. Despite the nerves that racked their body when getting yelled at, they could help but snicker at each other's inconvenience.

"Come on, guys!" Spider waved from hut they were huddled in. It wasn't until they raced to the group did Y/N feel the sharp pain on her ankle, kneeling over next to Kiri and clasping onto the raw skin. The vine must've dug into her skin when she was struggling but she didn’t want to make too big of a deal out of it. It’d heal over time.

“What did Father go on a rant about this time? And does it even matter? He says the same thing yet Lo’ak is still going to do it.”, Kiri earned a high five from Spider on the side.

"It's so unfair. All they do is yell at me and when they look at you, they go "Y/N, Y/N, you mustn't spend such time with a delinquent.", Lo'ak mocked his father's brooding tone.

"You are a bad influence." Y/N avoided his swing through the air, making a face at him but also because the movement made her lean down against the wound.

A smirk replaced her pained look as Kiri listed out the multiple occasions in which Lo’ak did not listen to their father and how many times he was always caught.

“Y/N, are you okay?”, Tuk asked from behind, leaning up against Y/N’s back. Oh, ever the so observant. Y/N couldn’t help but affectionally rub her head but the little girl paid no attention to the cooing as she hovered over to the hand covering her ankle, lifting up Y/N’s hand, “ Oh my gosh, you’re hurt!” The girl's eyes widened, Y/N holding a finger up to her lips to shush her. Luckily, Lo’ak moved the topic from complaining about the consequences of his own actions to tease Neteyam who was quietly sitting on the window sill behind all the girls.

“Dad's all like " Neteyam, you've got to find your mate."". He teased, hoping over everyone to poke him on the arm, " Little does he know that all the girls in the village have been lining up for him and yet he doesn't care one bit."

Spider stood on the other side of Neteyam, holding his chest," Maybe he isn't into that crowd."

"Either way, we'll help you out, bro. It must be hard to juggle picking a mate while also being the best son."

"Oh shut up the both of you. And Lo'ak, you said it, not me.", He swatted at them with the cloth he had in his hand. " Besides I've already chosen."

"You've already chosen?" Kiri and Tuk gasped.

"When did you choose? How did you choose so quick?" Y/N propped hers on her knees, Tuk's body falling onto her lap.

"I guess I always knew." He shrugged," Just finding the right moment and way to tell her first. I don't want to tell my parents yet in case they make her promised to me against her will."

"Oh ~ so romantic." Lo'ak wiggled his fingers, Neteyam swatting the cloth at him again.

Y/N noticed that even though his annoying little brother was mocking him with a deep voice and making their other siblings laugh, he was staring out into the air and not even defending himself like his mind was elsewhere. She couldn't help the ache that came with the realization. He must really like this girl if he is hoping not to mess up with her.

I wish you would look at me.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he looked in her direction and she locked eyes with his. Her breath hitching as he smiled down at her instead of looking away,"What?" He mouthed.

She tilted her head and mouthed back," Who is it?"

He playfully shrugged, earning a scowl in return. Right as he was about to get up and walk over to her, Lo'ak stood in front of him with Spider. Their hands were clasped together and they looked out into the distance with starry eyes, "Oh how I love you, Neyetam." Spider spoke in a high pitched tone while Lo'ak deepened his already deep voice," Come with me as we venture into each other's bodies-"

"Lo'ak, Tuk is here." Kiri growled under her breath and rolled her eyes when she heard Tuk asking Y/N what does venturing into another person's body means. "Besides, I wouldn't make fun of him so much. He's managed to find his in a short time while who knows how long you'll take when the time comes." Kiri pointed out which Lo'ak matter of factly responded, " I don't have to worry about that. I've got Y/N. Mates for life."

"As if!" Y/N threw a pillow that Tuk handed to her to hit the male square in the face that erupted the whole hut into laugher again.

The laughter faded when a figure appeared at the opening that caused everyone to stop what they were doing.

Y/N followed their eyes and she felt as a needle had poked her balloon that was her mood, deflating it.

"Jeez, you guys are acting as if I'm a monster." Her older sister, Eyota, stood up. Her braids falling behind her back like waves when she brushed it back. Y/N knew the quietness wasn't because that they didn't like Eyota. It was farther than that. Everyone adored Eyota like how they adored Y/N. Though it was different. While they wanted to be her friend, they wanted to be Eyota's other. She knew Lo'ak's sayings were a joke because the boy has talked about how pretty her older sister is to her face and not that she cared for Lo'ak's opinion, he has never called her pretty and instead resorted to comparing her to a fish he caught the other day.

“Hi Yam." Eyota’s words slurred, making Kiri and Y/N side eye one another.

"Did she really nickname him after a vegetable?" Kiri whispered.

"Hello, Eyota." Neteyam leaned back into his previous position, cropping his leg up onto the frame.

"Hey, Eyota." Lo'ak leaned up against a pillar, attempting to cross his leg over the other but it only resulted it in him losing balance.

"What do you need?" Y/N asked, Eyota looking away from the older Sully brother and pointed with her head towards their own hut," Mother's calling for you."

"You're an embarrassment."

Y/N watched as her mother placed scoops of Teylu on Eyota's leaf, chewing on the outside of the salty seed.

"The Olo'eyktan." Her mother seethed," The Toruk Makto."

Reaching over to grab a handful of teylu from the middle of the table, her mother slapped it away.

"In front of the whole village, he addressed you." She grabbed away the leaf in Y/N's hand before she could retract it away," And you still sit here with no shame as you eat away all of your father's earnings."

"My love, it's okay-"

"It's not okay. She thinks she can run around with that demon and drag along the Sully boys into her troubles. Then doesn't even bother to come home after the Olo'eyktan scolds her." Her face scrunched up into one of frustration, disgust dripping from her tongue," It's because you spoil her that she's turned out like this."

The table remained silent, the sound of the crunching and chewing echoing in the air before her mother asked Eyota how she was doing on finding a mate.

She hated how gushy they sounded and how Eyota is praised for the bare minimum. Call it jealously. Call it envy. Y/N didn't care, she simply wanted to be treated with respect for once.

"I've had a lot of suitors but there's one that I'm planning to take a step further with."

"Whose the lucky boy?", Father butted in.

"Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan."

"Ah the Sully boy?" Mother clapped. Father's eyes widening as he spoke with his mouth full," The future Olo'eyktan?

For the first time the whole night, Mother turned to Y/N and spoke in a civil and sweet tone," Would you help your sister? Your friendship with the children will benefit her greatly."

Hate was a strong word, Y/N loved her older sister unconditionally. Y/N would never feel that way for Eyota but it was hard not to resent the older girl when she was never defending her from their mother and was now planning to court someone that Y/N has always loved.

Unable to breathe, Y/N abruptly stood from the table and sat in the corner with her back towards her family.

"Not even excusing herself from dinner and not answering a simple question. What an ignorant child." Each word poking more and more into the facade she was trying to keep up that she didn't care anymore. Opening a book that was found during one of the raids, the crummy pages of words and pictures serving as an escape for her as her mother continued to ask Eyota about what her plans were.

She didn't know when she fell asleep but the book was laid out flat on her lap and the hut was now quiet as everyone else had tucked themselves away for the night.

The ache in the back of her neck reminding her of the position she slept in. Noticing that everything from tonight's dinner was still left out, she mentally noted to herself to clean up after stretching. Careful to not step on anything or anyone, she pushed past the drapes. Once the night air hit against her skin, her body convulsed into stretches, raising her arms above her head.

A rustle made her crotch her arms down into defense mode and turn to where the noise came from.

There Neteyam stood with a bowl of an unknown substance and the same cloth he was holding a few hours ago.

"Teyam, you scared me." She set her arms down and crossed them over each other to warm herself from the cold. "What are you doing out here so late?"

He held up the materials in his hand and looked down at her ankle that she had completely forgotten about. But now that it was mentioned again, she started to feel the pain searing up her leg. "Oh this thing? It'll heal."

"When? After it gets infected? Go ahead and sit down." He jumped down so he was on a lower level, Y/N sitting down on the wooden ledge. Her body betraying her again as her heart began to race from his touch. However, it was replaced when the cold ointment met with the gash. Hand reaching out to squeeze his shoulder as she hissed in pain.

"Drama queen." He nudged," You know it's kind of crazy you came out right as I was coming."

"I have a sense of when idiocy comes around."

"It must go so crazy when you look at yourself."

He caught her ankle when she moved it out to try to kick him. She kicked again in efforts to get out of his grip but gave up after a while, allowing him to finish cleaning and put Mo'at’s medicine on.

A comfortable silence blanketing over them with the exception of some hisses from pain. An unknown amount of time had passed before the cloth was wrapped around her ankle, Neteyam’s thumb running along the closing to ensure that it was secure before he began to massage the area.

“Did you like the book?”

“It was good. A bit hard to get through because there’s a lot more words than there are pictures but I like it a lot more than the other ones you brought back.”

“Wasn’t my favorite ending.”

"Really? I liked it."

"Is that right?" He took the spot besides her, sitting close enough that their thighs touched, her heart beating once again beating harder than it should be, "Care to explain?"

"I mean sure, I wished the couple should've stayed with each other till the end. But it was extremely realistic that they didn't. Sometimes happy endings are meant to be."

"I beg to disagree."

"Oh, is that right?" She mocked his previous tone," Would you care to explain?"

Neteyam scooted closer than they were before, leaning his arm behind her," I believe that even if the world is against two lovers being together, there's always one path that brings them to a happy ending."

Is there a way for them to be together? Even if her parents were going to be against it because her sister had verbally stated her want for him first. Even if she was considered to be family by his and isn't mostly likely not seen as anything more by him? Will she have the happy ending he speaks of if she were to voice her feelings to him?

"Teyam, who are you planning to court?" She held her hand up in defense," If you don't mind me asking."

"I'd like to keep it as a surprise." He nudged her side," In fact I think you'd like her. You'd probably know her the best out of everyone."

"Interesting. Is she cute?"

"So cute."

"Even cuter than me?"

He cupped her cheeks with both of his hands and squished them together, making her lips pucker out," Now who could ever be as cute as you?"

Scrunching her nose in an attempt to shake off the jittery feeling. It didn't help that when she looked at him all she was was flowers and a bright light that illuminated around him. She didn't know it was her pure imagination or Eywa was working to create a show for him.

He then lowered his tone and slid his hands down onto her shoulders, "Now that we're on this subject somewhat. What does your sister think of me?"

And it was as if someone reached in and squeezed her heart. The tightness in her chest overwhelming every sense in her body. Why did it have to be her? Why does it always have to be her?

The signs were so clear in front of her. The special nickname she had for him and how quick she was to choose him. The fact that she knew her sister the best out of everyone and how he would get quiet like Lo'ak would in case he would say something embarrassing that would ruin her perception of him. Neteyam too cared about Eyota's opinion.

When she hoped he was talking about her, he was talking about her.

It’s been a week since that night. Her father had stepped out and interrupted the conversation so she didn't have to go on a spiel of how Eyota liked him as well because that would have honestly taken away all of her digniity. Managing to escape the question, she bid Neteyam a good night without looking back and had a sleepless night.

Neteyam's bullshit interpretation of the book was not about her and him clearly. The two main characters are Eyota and him. For she was only a side character to their love story.

If the question wasn't obvious enough to fix her narrative, when returning back with the buckets of water that her mother had requested, Neteyam stood with Eyota in front of their hut with flowers in his hand. Talks that she's heard when she spends time with other girls in the clan about how flowers tend to be the first part of the courting phase.

Now she wasn’t going a downhill spiral where she was going to let herself fall claws of depression. No, she couldn't sit around and mope about it. If the two wanted each other, she couldn't stop because in the end like Neteyam said, if two lovers are meant to be together, they are mean't to be.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t pain her to have to talk to him, knowing that he does not return the same feelings to her and having to watch him court her sister.

At first, it was as simple as trying to be as touchy as before. Refusing to ride on his ikran together or walking with Kiri and Tuk when she ventured out into the forest. But all failed the day they went out for a swim and Neteyam had beat Lo'ak to offering her hand back onto the solid grand, his arm wrapped around her to spare some of his warmth on the way back home.

For the past two weeks, she’s been walking out of any area he walks in before he approaches her after a specific amount to not make it obvious. Thought it’s been enough times so for it to be. She’s been declining Lo’ak offers to go out into the forest because she knew in the end that Neteyam would be there. She only went when she knew Neteyam would be going with his father on another raid.

It was dumb but she had to do it to protect her heart.

There had been a time when she came close to ending whatever she was doing but when she walked towards the Sully’s hut, Eyota’s hand was running up and down Neyetam’s arm and he wasn’t budging to move it, leaning against the hut as they engaged in conversation. That pinch in her chest reminding her of why she needed to take this time to heal.

She did occasionally make her rounds around the Sully's hut but not as often as she used to, finding things to occupy her time.

She was able to avoid interacting with Neteyam easily that didn't garner much questions from anybody except for maybe Lo'ak who was used to the girl dropping everything to be able to spend time with them.

Neytiri had offered to her to come over to learn how to make this dish that Y/N had previously stated a loving for. As the two sat crouched over several cut up ingredients, Neteyam had walked in to grab a cover for Tuk which was an excuse to come in and invite Y/N to chat outside. Unintentionally, Y/N made eye contact with him. His hand coming up to wave at her but Y/N turned away and asked Neytiri what kind of plant she held. A frown formed on the boy, bundling up the cover in his hands. He stood for a good second to see if Y/N would look back up but he walked out in defeat when she didn't.

Unknowingly to them both, Neytiri had saw it all and looked over at Jake, widening her eyes as if she was questioning the interaction but he could only shrug.

The morning after, Y/N decided it was time for her to learn how to make baskets as the ones her family has were starting to wear out from use. Though it sucked when her fingers were quite cooperating, "No, 'evenge, you must go under and then over." Mo'at grabbed the straw basket out of her hands and fixed the uneven pattern that Y/N had created.

"Sorry, Mo'at." She beamed at the older woman who only humphed. Propping herself onto her knees to watch her do correctly, she hadn't noticed the two other beings surrounding them.

It wasn't until the air in Spider's mask exposed the two did Y/N looked over in annoyance," Can I help you?"

"Want to go hunting?"

"I'm busy."

"Please." Lo'ak clasped his hands together.

"No." Mo'at handed the basket back to her with the correct pattern and tightened one.

"Pretty please."

“Kiri is going." Spider included but it didn't help much since Y/N shook her head again.

"Well that's one too many for you to bother now."

She successfully folded in a one and proudly held it up for Mo’at to look at who only shook her head and fixed it again.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

“I’m too lazy.”

Lo’ak groaned and began to go on a whole rant about how even if he says that he’s tired, he still has to go. He shut up after Mo’at sent him a stare. It didn’t stop his pleas for her to go, Spider joining in. Though they sounded like whiney babies, it was all white noise to her as she tried again to weave the same pattern but instead failed.

Mo’at grumbled and snatched the basket away from her, “ Go. You are not helping and these two are hurting my ears.” She shooed them away with a wave of her hands and didn’t stop until they were out of sight.

“Cmon, Y/N.” Both of their arms wrapped around her shoulder with Spider falting off her a bit because of his shorter height, Lo’ak joked,“You’d never be a lady if you tried.”.

Just as he said that, she saw Neteyam and Eyota together besides an ikran, the comment striking harder than she usually let it. Huffing out a deep breath, she crossed her arms together with a frown as they made their way to their own ikrans.

The large group gathered around their instructor. Much to some people’s annoyance, specifically the ones with the same last name as the teacher, their instructor today is Jake.

The group gets divided into two with one in the ground and the other in the sky to cover as much area as they can. It's done with a team leader picking out who they want in their groups but with Jake, he tended to put his family with him and several others in his group and then the remaining in the other. He knew he could trust the others to do their job but with all of his family sans Tuk participating, he'd rather keep a close eye.

"As last time, we'll be-"

Y/N rose her hand, bowing to apologize for suddenly interrupting," May I be excused from the sky team today and stay on the ground today? I'm not feeling all that well.". The reality was that she rode with Neteyam last time and she was feeling sick at the thought of being in such close proximity to him. She couldn't be feeling those butterflies when he was going to be betrothed to her sister.

Kiri was surprised, nudging her on the side. "There's no way you're leaving me with those losers."

"That's fine, Y/N. Make sure to stay close to the group in case something goes wrong."

With a close lipped smile, she stepped back and Jake continued to state his plan, most of the group's attention and ears on him except Lo'ak and Spider that were groaning and whining to Y/N on switching teams which ended with Kiri telling them to shut up and leave her alone even though she mumbled under her breath that it'd be no fun with only boys. Y/N giggled out a "sorry" that didn't at all sound sincere, missing Neteyam's hard stare on her.

“Has Y/N been acting strange at all to you?”, Spider asked.

“Yeah, kind of.” Lo’ak twirled a stick in his hand, “Like she stills spends time with us but she also doesn’t. I don’t know… she’s been kind of distant.”

Kiri scoffed out a laugh, “Maybe she found out she can do better than hang out with you all day.”

“You know the "you" includes you as well, right?”

“Did you forget that Y/N and I are girls which means we have a different connection which means … we talk amongst ourselves… especially about you all."

While the two boys pestered Kiri about what kind of gossip the girls do, Neteyam took front and moved large branches and leaves out of the way for an easier walkway. Though on the outside, it seemed that he could care less about the topic at hand and was simply alert on his surroundings. His mind was else where like it's been for the the past month, no, for the past two years.

His thought were interrupted when he heard a familiar giggle come from below. Rushing to the source, he leaned over the ledge and saw Y/N. Not alone though but with another boy, Zakum, that he always found a bother because of immature he is and now he was 10 times annoying when Neyetam saw how his hands were placed on her waist and the other on her arm as to position her to aim the arrow towards the stream.

The others had joined him and watched as the arrow was wasted into the water, missing the fish. Y/N pouted back at Zakum, Zakum patting her head affectionally before they both returned back into the prior position to try again.

“Isn’t Y/N a perfect shot?” Spider frowned.

Neteyam nodded. He knew because he was the one who taught her. He was the one who had his arms around her to get a perfect stance and the one who taught her the secrets of having perfect aim.

“See what I mean? There's something wrong because if she can easily get her target, why did she miss?�� As if lightbulb had switched on above his head, “Oooh.”

They then all collectively placed it together with Lo’ak and Kiri ooo’d teasingly in spite of their friend knowing how to flirt but stopped when they looked towards Neteyam, his face stoic and his jaw clenched.

The voice of their father caught their attentions through the throat microphone that they were getting off track, the regrouping for the flyers occurring a while ago.

“Let’s go.” Neteyam threw himself up from the ground and refused to look at anyone, roughly pushing away anything in his way.

After a successful hunt, all the members of the clan gathered around to celebrate the winnings of the day. The meat of the strumbeest and fish grilling over the fire, families happily with one another as they fed each other. Some engaging in some indecent behaviors that involved kava and its disastrous effects.

Y/N held onto Tuk's hands as the little girl guided her around the dance line. Now instead of following the traditional dance, Tuk was making her own moves and moving her feet in a different way that made Y/N trip over her own feet when she attempted to follow her.

Tuk groaned out of frustration," Y/N, you've got to get yourself together before you fall on me."

"Come on, Tuk Tuk, slow down then! You're a much better dancer than I am."

She stuck her tongue out," I know that." She proudly grinned. She dragged Y/N around the fire to follow the others in the dance line. Even though Tuk did take the dancing quite seriously, the child would never miss out on the chance to be lifted up in the air. Y/N twirling her around in the air before the both of them got dizzy.

Stumbling to an empty spot, they both fell back onto the soft cushion of the ground. Tuk rolled over to lay on her side, her head laying on Y/N's arm.

"Y/N, I'm glad that Neteyam chose-"

A small shadow that stood over them, Tuk quickly sitting up and regaining her composure. Y/N lifted her head to find a little boy holding his hand out for Tuk to take. The blue of Tuk's ears fading into a light blue. Tuk's hand reached out for the boys but quickly retracted it when she realized that Y/N was besides her. Her eyes looking over for permission.

"Go ahead. I'm all worn out."

Tuk didn't think twice before running off with the boy.

Damn, even Tuk was having a better love life than her. She scoffed to herself. Maybe she can wallow in her self pity now. As she was in the process of laying back down, something caught her off guard that made her sit right back into position.

Eyota's legs over another person, her lips close to his ears to whisper unspeakable things. And that other person was someone that surely was not Neteyam.

Fury burned within her. She didn't think twice about her actions and if anyone was going to stare at her, the trail to her older sister almost leaving behind smoke if she had faster than she did. "What the hell are you doing?"

Eyota widened her eyes and immediately stood up, the male besides her obviously intoxicated by the way he missed her arm when he reached out to pull her back down.

"What is that language? Is that what you learn when you-"

"Shut up." Eyota and Y/N both equally stunned but Y/N continued on," Why are you being touchy with another boy? Aren't you close to having a secure mate? Like Neteyam."

"Ughh." Eyota's scowl returned, "I never confirmed that I wanted him. The whole point of finding a mate is to explore and why would I stay put with one?"

"You told Mother that Neteyam was the one you wanted to take a step further with. Isn't it working out, why are you-"

"Y/N, can I not interested in another people too? Sure, he's cute and a good warrior but I'm young, let me have fun. And when have you ever been so interested in my life? Is it because yours is so disappointing?"

Y/N brushed away the last comments, "Neteyam is my friend, you shouldn't treat him like he's some kind of toy." Y/N felt her body shaking from such anger.

"Ach! Then you can have your friend! All he does is talk about you anyways. It's insufferable."

He talked about her? Y/N's face softening at the thought, unaware that Eyota was staring at her little sister weirdly, stepping back to sit back to sit with the drunk Na'Vi.

A hum ringing through her ears as if time stopped, eyes trailing around the crowds before her eyes landed on him. His gear still on from today but paint decorated his face. He talked amongst his friends, his hands motioning a ikran flying through the air. As if he could feel her stare on him, he momently looked up and then back up, interlocking his eyes with hers. The sound of her heartbeat thumped in her ears when he didn't break it.

"Y/N!" Zakum appeared from thin air, his arms wrapping around her. A tug to pull her in the direction of everyone else. "Dance."

"No, I'm okay." Looking back in the direction Neyetam previously stood, he was no longer there.

"Cmon! It's tradition. It is the way. Dance!"

"Zakum, I am quite busy." Trying to squeeze her body out of his grip but he only kept a tighter hold.

"For a quick second, I promise and then you can go on as you please."

"Go with the boy, Y/N!" Eyota claimed, tossing her head back to take another large gulp of kava.

Seeing as there was no way out of this, she stopped struggling and let him lead her to the large crowd, his hands on her hips so tightly that she could move in the other direction if she wanted to. As everyone stood in a line, Zakum faced her and mirrored the others in line.

Typically Y/N is able to keep up but her mind wandered else where, unable to concentrate. The sound of everyone's voices and the hot air of the fire being all too much for her at the moment. All she wanted to do at the moment was talk to Neteyam about what Eyota said last.

Zakum's hot breath radiated down her neck, his skin clammy against hers. His hands running from where their hands were linked to his hips. Lower and lower he went until-

"Don't touch me like that." She pushed him away, a face full of disgust clear on her face. A stunned look on Zakum's face as he tumbled back. Taking this as an opportunity to walk and finding a breath of fresh air in an empty space away from everyone, she felt herself being pulled back around to him by her arm. Both of his hands now holding a tight grip on her.

"Where's the Y/N from earlier today? The one who was practically begging me to touch her."

The Y/N earlier only acted in that way to prove Lo'ak and Spider wrong that indeed she could be seen as a woman even though it was down in a way that didn't make her feel comfortable whatsoever. When she heard the group that hide behind the bushes rushing away, she moved out of Zakum's touch immediately. Apparently Zakum didn't get a hint that she wasn't interested when she was extremely annoyed by his flirtatious ways before and after the act.

"Get off of me."

"Come on, you wanted me earlier. Change of heart?"

A pain felt in her wrists when his grip on her grew tighter and tighter each time she budged. He used his tall height as a advantage to push her back until she felt the stabs of scratchy bark of the tree.

"You think you have better options? I'm the best you have. I can prove it to you right here. Nobody's around."

Disgust ran through her veins and clung to her skin, bile rising up her throat. Frustration causing tears to brim at the corners of her eyes. Though, she didn't stop her fight against him. Spreading her firsts to push with her palms at his chest. "Leave me alone, you perv."

"Stop fighting." He gritted through his teeth, pushing both of her arms against her chest. The pressure making it hard for her to move and breathe.

Y/N shut her eyes tight. Wishing constantly in her head that he'd magically go away and hoping that a good idea would appear into her head.

Silence.

His sweaty palms being replaced by a familiar warm embrace, the beaded bracelet pressing against her skin confirming exactly who it was. Her vision blurry at first when her eyes fluttered open, leaning into Kiri's arm.

She saw silhouettes of the two men in front of her, one pushing back the other.

"Neteyam, leave him. Let's get Y/N home."

Though he didn’t listen. Everything happened so quick but in the moment, it felt as if it was in slo-mo.

The way Neteyam threw his arm back to land a punch square in the middle of Zakum's face, the blood trickling down from his nose. Zakum threw himself toward’s Neteyam’s torso to push him on the floor but Neteyam held his place, placing another hit to his face. Zakum returned the hit with one to Neteyam's side that fell weak against Neyetam's move to knee Zakum's stomach. The blow making him fall to the ground, Neteyam hovering over him. How he kept going back in, his knuckles landing each time on the other boy's face.

The two were split up suddenly by a taller male. "Stand down.", Jake's strong voice ringing through the air, his body sandwiched between the two to hold his son back from the other. Neither of them had even seen him approach the commotion, Lo'ak clearly out of breath from trying to get his father in time before the fight escalated any further.

Neteyam didn't care though. A spine chilling look in his eyes. An emotion none of them had seen before. Sure, she's seen him annoyed and upset but this was rage. A look clear and evident that he wasn't done with Zakum.

"Can't even fight his own fights without Daddy stepping in." Zakum spat, Neteyam stepped forward with his fist up but Jake blocked him.

"You best shut your mouth before you find yourself in more trouble than you already are." Jake glared at Zakum before turning back to the others in the area. "Kiri, take your brother..." His eyes softening at the sight of the blue skin of Y/N's wrist turning a light purple. As if he was starting to get a clear understanding of what had occurred not more than five or so minutes ago," and Y/N to get their injuries checked."

Not wasting a second to avoid Jake's scolding of another member of the clan, they were quick to walk away from the scene. The last thing Y/N had saw when she looked back was Zakum's parents standing, their forehead creased from their frowns and the sound of yelling being loud for them to hear from where they were.

No words were exchanged. She knew purely from the way her mother was refusing to look at her that she had messed up tonight.

Her father helping her apply the medicine Mo'at had given to her before she was pulled away by her family to their own hut. She did want to stay with them to assure that everything was okay especially since she was the one that was at fault and caused this commotion to happen.

"Did he..." Her father's eyes watering, his body completely shutting down and refusing to even finish the sentence. Y/N placed her hands over his and shook her head. Cries racked through his body as he with his forehead pressed down to her hands.

Towards the side of the room, her sister was sound asleep underneath a blanket, the smell of the liquor she drank radiating off of her. Their mother hovered over her, a hand reaching out to smooth out the older daughter's hair.

Oddly, Y/N didn't feel the green envy that she typically felt when she saw her mother caring more for her sister. Despite what had happened to her, her mother still repelled any sense of worry to her and only cared for the simply drunk sibling. So it wasn't worth feeling.

Maybe it didn't matter what she did. It didn't matter how much she cared for her family. It didn't matter that she sacrificed her heart for her sister in hopes that her mother would be proud of accomplishing such a task. Nothing worked.

Maybe if she realized this long before, she wouldn't have gone through this effort to distance herself from Neteyam and potentially ruined the friendship they had.

The chance to talk to him seemed to pass her every time. After having breakfast with her family and taking care of the aftermath of what the kava had done to her sister who woke up with a shooting headache and had projected vomited everywhere, she was stopped by Zakum who was accompanied by his father to apologize for how he acted last night.

Quick to forgive with her mind only focusing on what Eyota had told her last night about how all Neteyam had done was talk about her. She had made to their hut but she was a few minutes off as both Lo'ak and Neteyam had gone with the war party. She used that time to apologize for the events that occurred last night but Neytiri was quick to tell the girl that it wasn't her fault while Kiri reproached her for even considering that she was.

It wasn't until later that that day when night had fallen did the opening of her family's hut swished open, the youngest Sully standing in the opening. All four pairs of eyes startled and all watched as Tuk ran over to Y/N to pull at her arm, her chest heaving up and down from what seem like she had ran here.

"Tuk Tuk, what's wrong?"

"You have to come." Urgency dripping off from her tongue," It's important." She didn't look at anyone else in the room except for Y/N, her small hands barely wrapped around the circumference of her arm. Tears streaming down her face, using all of her weight to try to pull Y/N up.

"Tuk, wait. What's wrong? You have to calm down and explain to me what is going on."

"The sky people attacked." Her words jumbled as snot and tears ran down into her mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with Neteyam. Norm took him and I didn't even see him. He was bleeding so much, Y/N."

Not only Y/N but everyone in that hut stood and ran with the child to where people were returning back. It wasn't an exaggeration to say this was the worst they have seen so far. Usually people would return with as much as a scratch but the skin of several people that were being lifted past her were almost close to falling off. Bubbles littered several other people's skin, Mo'at handing off medicine to others to be able to care for as much of the injured as she can. Several people huddled together as cries were heard among the chaos hinting that there were losses this time or they had gone missing.

Her eyes surfed the crowd to find Lo'ak and his father stood towards the opening. From their posture and the veins that popped out from Jake's throat, he was yelling at Lo'ak. That she would question later but she could get a sense that Lo'ak may have been partly to blame for what had happened today.

A breath of relief to see them both standing, she was quick on her feet and followed Tuk to them. Colliding her body to Lo'ak's, not caring if he wasn't finished getting berated. Lo'ak's returning the embrace as he wrapped his arms around her torso quickly. Hearing him whispering reassurances that he was okay, she remembered that one person was missing and circumstances Tuk had told her.

"Lo'ak, how's Neteyam?" An obvious strain in her voice as she thought of the worst.

Lo'ak's heavy sigh and the look in Jake's eyes making her heart drop to her stomach, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as tears immediately came streaming out.

"Y/N!", Kiri called for her just as her knees were about to give out from underneath her. Neytiri trailing behind as they ran over to Y/N. "He's refusing help." Neytiri spoke through dry heaves. "Norm was able to take the bullet out but he's not letting anyone touch him to clean his wounds or look at any other. There's still a lot of blood."

"He's asking for Y/N." Kiri pointed. "He keeps saying he wants her and chanting her name like she's going to appear."

So he is alive. Resisting the urge to hit Lo'ak in the stomach for scaring her but she figured he knew as much as she did about what was going on.

She quickly wiped her ears as Neytiri walked over to her and placed a hand onto her shoulder. Plead in her eyes,"Y/N, sweetie. I don't know what's going on between the two of you but I beg you to forgive him or forgive yourself."

Y/N immediately agreed, finding no strength to say no to Neytiri who bowed her head as a thank you. The two guided her the box that was full of pods for avatars, all the metals in the room shining in her eyes. Kiri handed her a mask to help her get better control of her breathing from the toxins from the air inside. Her feet feeling cold against the floors and her body full of nerves as she inched towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

Silently she entered the room with medicine that Kiri claimed would sting less compared to what Mo'at was giving everyone else, the boy hunched over with his body facing the wall. She could tell he knew he was in the room by the way his ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. A white bandage was wrapped around his upper torso but the rest of his body still full of open wounds.

She walked around and stood in front of him, eyeing the large blood spot where the bullet had entered. Cautiously she brought her hand up and placed it carefully on the gauze. Feeling his stare on the side of her face, she refused to look up in fear of how her calm facade would drop and instead moved her hand down to the much gnarly scratches that littered the open skin.

With still no words spoken between them, she set aside the bowl and instead grabbed a discarded towel that she believed was being used to clean his cuts before he became troublesome and everyone had given up.

Right as she was placed the towel onto a bloody wound, Neteyam hissed in pain. She tried to go slower and dab it instead of rubbing but he continued to groan. verbally letting out grunts of "ows.".

Deciding there was no way to ease the pain, she continued to clean off the blood less carefully and pressed down on one that was still leaking out.

His hand shot up to grab at her arm, making her finally look up at him to see that he was crying.

"Wow, I didn't know you were such a baby."

He obviously didn't find that funny as he blinked away the water that gathered at the linings of his eyes, his eyes rolling when he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"You try getting blown up and shot at and not cry."

"I'd rather not."

Usually they'd laugh but the tension that filled the room stunted their chance to, only resorting back to the static silence. Y/N looked back down at the seeping wound and began to dab at it again.

"You know you're all I could think about."

She stopped. Only for a moment before she continued to clean the cut as if she didn't hear him. Not because she wanted to avoid confrontation but she refused to believe what he said was real.

"When I felt the bullet go through me, all I could think about was you. Wondering what the hell I did to make you to so upset that you couldn't even have talked to me. And I got so scared because I thought I was going to die out there without finding out what I did wrong and how you refuse to even look at me in the eye" He grabbed at her arm again but this time by her wrist and pulled it away from she was doing, her attention as well. Goosebumps running up her arm when he inched her closer to him, peering down at her even though he was seated," Especially when you have always told me to be honest about my feelings so why is that when I am, you're upset with me? Remember thinking, is what I did so bad? If I had known you would've acted this, I wouldn't have done so."

"That’s not the point, Teyam. You say that now but you would’ve resented and I couldn’t bear have you be upset with me.” Y/N pushed his arms away from her, cautious to not be too rough. "Teyam, I just needed time to get over it."

"All you had to do with me was be honest with me. Because I wouldn't have cared. I could never risk not having you in my life."

He wouldn't have cared. It felt as if everything had shifted two steps back when they were moving one step forward.

"Then what’s the point?” She threw the towel to the side. The fury ran strong through her veins, not expecting him to be this cold about how she felt for her. “ You’re such a fucking asshole.”

"Excuse me?"

"You wouldn't have cared? Well guess what, Neteyam, people have feelings and while you couldn't care, I'd still have to sit there with my feelings for you and watch you be all lovey dovey with my own sister. And I know my worth and I'm not going to sit there and act like I’m happy for you two and watch you try to make her yours."

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion," Wait what? Your sister? What does Eyota have to do with this?"

"Gosh if I had known how bad you are with girls, I would've have gone for Lo'ak. But of course I'm one of the many fools that has to be in love with you" She scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "First of all, skxawng, if you like Eyota, why would you talk about me so much? That's why she's moved on from you so fast. "

A offended look on his face appeared on his face,"I'm bad with girls? I'm far from being bad with girls. If anything, I've tried every- Wait... you're in love with me?" A smirk replacing the grimace on his face.

"Yeah. Not that'd you care or anything." She huffed," I swear, Neteyam, get that look off your face before I smack you because you're really hurting my feelings."

"Oh I'm hurting your feelings? Y/N, I've been waiting for a response from you for what seems like forever. I was wondering when you would flat out reject me."

Now it was her turn to be confused," But I saw you giving her flowers. And you asked that night before what she thought of you."

"I was giving her flowers for you. Fucks sake, they even were your favorite ones. Your mother was there as well. And I asked her what she thought of me because I was going to be courting her sister so I had to make that she saw me in a good light. And before you get confused, you. I wanted her approval so that I could pursue you."

Though the picture was perfectly drawn for her and the tie of the knot becoming unraveling and untangled, she couldn't believe it. Not when her whole life, Eyota was always first choice. She couldn't accept this reality because it simply couldn't be true, " No." She shook her head. "No, there's no way you could be choosing me. Because everyone likes Eyota more. I'm the friend and you're confused but we all know that-"

"I do not want Eyota."

"You say that because she decided she didn't want you. Because you messed up your chance with her.”

A soft pair of lips cut off her rambling, Neteyam's arm wrapping around her to place his hand on the small of her back to push her closer. His other hands brushing against her cheek. Their bodies pressed against one another like two puzzles pieces fitted together.

It took needing a breath out of their masks to break them apart, her lips parted in shock.

“What does that tell you?”

“Nobody ever sees me-"

They buzzed when he leaned back in and pressed a swift peck on her lips, using his thumb to press down on the middle of her bottom lip.

“Do you get it now?”

“Maybe just one more.”

Neteyam exhaled out a laugh, standing up and picking up Y/N by the waist with no struggle. Except a grunt of pain when she hit his shoulder and warned him of his injury. He sat her down onto the edge on the bed and leaned down again to connect their lips together for a quick second, "Oel ngati kameie, Y/N. Always and only you."

She could feel her cheeks getting hot, getting embarrassed when she knew that her face had to be all purple. Everything was so overwhelming, her mind forcing her to look at other parts of the room. What deemed as impossible of happening was happening.

He brought her back when a thumb softly pushed her chin back down, forcing her to make direct eye contact with him. His eyes so full of love and a plea that hoped that she returned his feeling and it was in that moment that she knew he was being sincere. That what he was saying was true to his heart.

"Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam."

⋆*̣̥☆·͙̥‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥ ⋆

a/n: omg thank you so much for reading this. i kind of struggled to finish bc idk i dont like how i've been writing cuz repetivity and also writers block. but my love for neteyam pulled thru hehehe. hope you liked it and plzzz give me criticism bc i shall learn from it!

#neteyam #neteyam imagine #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #neteyam series #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam scenario #neteyam imagines #avatar x y/n

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rekino2114 · 2 months

Text

Gifting the chainsaw man girls a plushie of themselves

A/n: I'm still on vacation and wanted to do a smaller post while i'm free so i saw this prompt around and thought it was adorable, I'll probably do it with more fandoms let me know if you wanna see it

Makima

Thinks it's amazing and will treasure it forever, she specific keeps it on a shelf in her office (most of her subordinates are very confused to see it just sitting there around the paperwork)

She will 100% give you a plushie of yourself to repay you

Might ask you for a pochita plushie to replace the real one since she doesn't want it anymore.

"Oh, It's adorable darling you're so talented, how about I make you one of yourself to match?"

Power

She is confused at first and asks what power (lol) you used to make a mini her but quickly grows to love it.

It's soft and cuddly just like meowy whenever you're not near her you can bet she'll be cuddling those two things to fall asleep.

Definitely brags about it to denji and aki. Where are their small and fluffy versions of them uh?

"*gasp* is that an idol of the great power? Very well I will accept this. T-thank you"

Himeno

Thinks it's the cutest thing ever and immediately hugs you and peppers you In kisses as thanks

Will always keep it on her shoulder or in view in general hoping that someone asks her about it so she can start ranting about how wonderful her partner is

You have found her multiple times passed out drunk hugging the plushie and mumbling about how much she loves you

"Oh my God! Is that me? Thanks so much it's soooo cute, well not as cute as the original of course~"

Kobeni higashiyama

An incredibly blushy mess whenever you give her the plushie but thinks it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her.

It kinda becomes a comforter for her. Whenever she's more nervous or sad than usual, she hugs the plushie and thinks of you, and it makes her feel at least a bit better

She feels kinda bad about not giving you anything back so she'll probably save the small amount of money she has to buy you a plushie you like.

"O-oh, that's really cute. w-wait, is that m-me? I love it a lot. Thank you so so much"

Quanxi (and her harem)

You immediately got tackled in a hug by 4 of your girlfriends when you showed them plushies of every one of them, quanxi just looked at hers for a while before smiling and joining the group hug

Might genuinely stab someone if they say anything remotely negative about the plushie

She works hard with her girlfriends to make you a plushie of yourself since they thought it wasn't fair that you were the only one in the relationship without one.

"Eh, it really does look like me, you did an amazing job on the girls too, don't worry I'll keep it close at all times"

Asa mitaka

Genuinely can't fathom that you would put effort into making something so cute of her out of everyone and the fact that you gifted her that makes her fall in love with you even more

Always keeps it with her mostly in her bag at school, similarly to kobeni it helps calm her down whenever she's having a bad day, it's a reminder that there is someone willing to love her this much

Yoru once tried to draw the scars on it to make it a plushie of her (just to mess with asa) but thankfully she took control in time

"Wait, seriously? That's....for me? Wow, i- I don't know what to say. Just thank you so much"

Yoru

Acts like she doesn't care that much but actually thinks it's really cute, asa often wakes up finding herself hugging it, courtesy of yoru not being able to sleep without it and taking over during the night.

Definitely brags to asa about it (not realizing it's technically a plushie of both of them)

Might ask you to add some weapons to the plushie to make it more interesting

"Hm? What's that? a plushie? I guess it does kinda resemble me, thanks it is kinda nice"

Fami

She might seem as indifferent as usual but genuinely loves the gesture and thinks it's adorable

She brings it with her whenever she eats (which is most of the time) she even puts a little bib on it, it's really cute to watch

Feels really bad when she gets it dirty (mostly when she's eating) so she'll try cleaning it even if she has no idea how

"I see, so it's a plushie of me. How cute. Thank you, you did a great job"

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impyssadobsessions · 7 months

Note

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

#dpxdc #dp x dc #superdads + Jack #jack fenton #clark kent #bruce wayne #asks #dc crossover #dp crossover #impyelam #fanfic #fanfic by someone else #<3 #supersons + 1 #dcxdp

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lis-likes-fics · 9 months

Text

Lab Rats

Pairings: professor!Jonathan Crane x student!Reader Word Count: 8.2k words Prompt: Sex Pollen Warnings: NSFW, smut, dubcon, professor/student relationship, sex pollen, oral (m!receving), fingering, edging, multiple orgasms, dumbification, name calling, degradation, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie... A/N: This is a day late, but I got it done! I hope you enjoy this filthy piece. Dr. Crane is so much fun to write for!

The call of your name stalled you from packing the rest of your items, your fingers tingling and your ears burning at the sound of your name breaching his lips.

“Could you stay after class, please?” Professor Crane asked, looking upon you with a set smile.

You remained calm. He would read any unnecessary excitement in the way you breathed.

You nodded, trying to sink back into the rest of the class, packing their bags to leave. You pulled the zipper of your bag closed. When enough people left the room, you made your way to the front with your bag on your person.

You had taken a certain fascination with Dr. Jonathan Crane the first moment you stepped into his class. He was handsome and charming, he knew how to teach and he always managed to pull you in.

He wasn't soft on anyone, even his favorite student usually didn't receive much special treatment. On the first day of classes, he told everyone that 50% of the class would be walking out of the door by the end of the week, and he was right. Better for you, that just meant less people to steal his attention away, less competition when it came to acing his tests and projects.

You loved his class, not just for the topic—obviously. Over the past couple of weeks, you felt his shift. His usual objectivity had switched and he seemed to point you out a little more. He praised your work, he accepted all of your input in class, he would even email you personally (sometimes talk to you after class) on your work to tell you how well you were doing.

You knew your attraction toward him would never amount to anything, it would never work out. But your fantasy was enough to quench your hunger for his attention and affection.

“Yes, sir?” you asked as you walked up to him.

Crane smiled at you. “I have a few matters I would like to speak with you privately… Could you spare the time?”

The strength of your heartbeat was extra hard for a few moments as you took in his words. You nod, “Of course, professor.”

“Step into my office?” he asked, gesturing toward the door with his name on it.

You took the first step, walking toward the door as he followed behind. You were suddenly very self-conscious of the way that you walked as you opened the door.

He moved around you when you were both inside, allowing you to shut the door as he took his spot in front of his desk. He leaned back on it, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands in his pockets.

You knew this one. He was presenting his body language to seem more relaxed in order to ease you from your guard so he could properly manipulate you into agreeing with whatever he said.

He sighed, taking a moment to look upon you. “I would like you to know that I admire you and your work greatly,” he began, “and this is what allows me to ask this of you so freely.”

You blinked, anticipating his offer. “Yes, professor?”

He smiled, almost slyly. “I am conducting an experiment of sorts, a scientific breakthrough that I would like you to be the face of.”

You stared at him, your eyes wider than you meant for them to be as you slowly recovered. “I… Me?”

He nodded. “As part of a selection of students.”

Your heart sunk slightly at that. One of a group, but his first choice, at least…

“Oh,” you nodded. “Alright, uhm… Why—What, uh…” You reprimanded yourself for your lack of eloquence. “What is the experiment? What kind is it?”

“Unfortunately,” he breathed in deep, letting out a long sigh, “that must be kept a secret until I come to a close. It's not quite done—a few last minute tweaks need to be made…” He looked off slightly, thinking to himself for a split second. His attention turned back to you, looking at you a little closer, bringing you in.

He spoke slowly, leaning off the desk to stand. He moved a little closer, and you felt his hand brush your elbow. “But I would like to know that you would be willing to drop everything at a moment’s notice when I do contact you for it.”

He took another step forward, closer now to you. You knew this one, too. He was making it personal, making you compliant. You knew this trick, it was Psychology 101.

But it worked anyway.

“Oh,” you licked your bottom lip: your own trick. “Okay.”

He smiled, raising his brows, “Yes?” he nodded.

You returned the nod. “Yes, sir,” you smiled. “I…would be honored to.”

He held your eye contact, not letting go as he nodded. “Excellent!” he exclaimed gently. He leaned in a little, close to your face, too close for a professor talking to his student. “You really are my greatest student.”

You smiled, perhaps too much. You feel too giggly. “I'm…so glad.”

He moved his hand from your elbow to raise a finger, shaking it gently at you. “Remember,” he teased, “at a moment’s notice.”

You nodded definitely. “Of course.”

He offered you a charming smile before stepping out of your space, breaking the spell. He tilted his head toward you. “You may go.” Just as you were lifting your foot, he held out a hand toward you. “And thank you very much.”

With one last nod, you stepped back. “Not a problem, sir.”

You stepped out of his office, closing the door gently behind you. Gently biting your lip, you unsilenced your phone as you left his classroom.

The shrill ring of your phone cut through the late night and woke you brutally from your slumber. You gasped as you reluctantly blinked through the dark to direct your eyes to the abusive light emanating from the phone. The clock next to it on the nightstand read far past midnight. You moaned deeply, speaking but only forming actual words toward the middle of your complaint.

“...’f i’s ‘nother sp’m…” You wiped your face and covered your eyes as you answered the phone, not quite awake but too tired to deal with waking up.

“Hullo?”

The voice on the other end woke you up just a little more, not quite clearing the fog in your brain but allowing you to put more effort into sounding a little more awake.

“It's time.”

Time for wh—Oh.

You suddenly remembered Dr. Crane's experiment, the one he wanted to test with you. Your gut clenched and your heart picked up and startled you awake. It was time.

“Oh.”

You pressed your finger into the doorbell, checking the address of Dr. Crane's house out of nerves a fifth time and the time for the twentieth. You wrapped your coat tighter around you, the chilly breeze persuaded by the winter air of Gotham so close to Christmas time. They would be letting you out for the break soon…

The door opened, a little crack and a creak to allow you entry.

“Just go along with whatever happens.”

You thought back to his instructions on the phone, vague instructions you briefly considered not trusting. But he was your professor. He had your best interests at heart, surely.

You reached your hand toward the knob, timidly reaching. He wasn't at the door. Should you actually go in?

“Don't waste time asking questions. Everything will be explained when you get there.”

You pushed the door open and walked inside, shucking your coat off as you nervously looked around the house. You shut the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack by the entrance and leaving your shoes next to the ones by the door.

You swallowed thickly as you looked around, stepping further inside. “Uhm…” you cleared your throat. “Dr. Crane? Are you still home?”

You were met with silence as you continued to quietly step through the living room, the air so still that you could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest. You were so nervous, your blood was pumping and you were bordering on scared as you tried to keep your breath level. Your flesh raised with goosebumps. It was too quiet.

You almost didn't want to speak again, afraid to break the silence and disturb something unknown lurking around the corner.

“Dr. Crane?” you called again, suddenly feeling very warm and very frightened. Where was he? “Professor?”

“In here.”

The voice was distant when he spoke, giving you some reprieve from the silence but feeding your anxiety, fueling your fight-or-flight.

“Where?” you wondered aloud, stepping past the archway that led into the hall.

“Just a few steps more…”

Could he see you? Was he taunting you on purpose? Perhaps part of the experiment?

The anxiety curled in your stomach, kept your footsteps slow and your breath shallow and a scream ready in your throat in case you needed it.

You were reluctant to speak. “Sir?” You pressed your palm along the wall of the hall and began to peer around the corner, into a room on the left. Maybe Dr. Crane was waiting there…

A strange, strong mist invaded your senses as you turned the corner. Raring up the scream, you gasped and your eyes stung, resulting in a heavy cough that took a moment to die down. You braced yourself on the wall, holding yourself up as you tried to clear your eyes, clouded by tears from both the coughing and the mist burning your eyes. You watched the mist clear, breathing in desperately for air.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Dr. Crane's voice came, then his hands on your shoulders as he pulled you in and guided you into the room. “That's good,” he bid.

He held you steady as you blinked rapidly and steadied your breath. “I took the liberty of testing my hypothesis that it would work faster if the patient is already running on adrenaline.”

You wiped the tears roughly from your eyes. “Professor, what–?”

“Hush,” he cut you off, bringing you to the bed. “Sit here,” he said, lowering you down.

He pulled up a chair, sitting across from you before handing you a handkerchief. You took it greedily and began wiping your face. You sighed deeply into the fabric, holding your head in your hands as you adjusted.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “Now that's done…the substance you've just inhaled is an aphrodisiac of my own design.”

You stilled entirely, looking up at him tentatively as your eyes widened. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to organize your thoughts. It was an… an—“Aphrodisiac…” you muttered.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Aphrodisiac.”

You were suddenly dizzy, processing his words too slowly as you put together what this meant. An experiment with an aphrodisiac… and you were the “face” of it all?

“The word itself comes from the Greek name ‘Aphrodite’, which—I'm sure you know—is the Greek goddess of Sex.” You looked up at him as he began explaining, rolling up the sleeves of his white button down and dusting off his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses on his nose, he continued, “As far as the function of the substance is concerned, it affects hormone levels and accelerates blood flood, increasing chemicals in your brain like—dopamine, glutamic acid, nitric oxide, oxytocin to enhance sexual arousal.” He sounded like he was reading straight out of a book as he spoke with his hands, illustrating the drug to you to paint pretty pictures for you to apply to what was happening to you, in your own body.

It was getting warm, the physical exertion from the adrenaline, likely. The suspense and anxiety from before, along with the shock of Dr. Crane's mist had thrust you into an adrenaline rush. That was surely all it was.

“It relaxes smooth muscles,” he continued. “Stimulates erections, increases arousal.”

You fought the urge to clench your thighs at the idea of it. He was your psych professor and you were his student, and he was testing aphrodisiacs on you and telling you how it made boners and stiff nipples and fucking arousal.

“Professor,” you muttered.

He stopped you, raising a finger. “Please hold. I'm not finished.” He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Where was I? Aphrodisiacs are commonly found in natural foods or herbs, though the change in sexual desire is usually unnoticed when these substances—like chocolates, most commonly, or oysters and figs and strawberries—are consumed.”

You clenched the handkerchief in your hand, rubbing your palms against your thighs roughly. “Professor Crane.” You felt like your head was beginning to spin.

He sighed at you, seemingly disappointed. “I hope you're interrupting me for a good reason.”

You stared at him straight on, nearly glaring as a thin layer of sweat began to form over your skin. “It's hot,” you huffed.

“Well, that's to be expected,” he shrugged. He looked you up and down, smiling with a gentle chuckle. “How rude of me. How are you feeling?”

You brought the handkerchief to your forehead, breathing uneasily. “Hot.”

“As you've already stated.” He waved his hand dismissively. “What else?”

You didn't want to say: considering the heat was spreading through your body and scouring your nerves with a flush of lust. The last thing you wanted to do was explain that you were horny to your professor.

He tilted his head at your hesitation, noticing the way you turned away, closed yourself off. He raised a brow. “Come on,” he bid. He didn't sound like he was encouraging you, he sounded like he was taunting you. “Don't leave any details. This is an experiment, might I remind you. If you leave anything out, it could hinder the research.”

“Um,” you struggled, your voice trembling a little. You felt like your whole body would soon follow suit. You felt shaky, like you’d fall if you tried to stand. “Uh.” You couldn’t figure out what to say—it was humiliating to say the least, looking at your professor and forcing your eyes to stay on his face, because fuck…you wanted him so bad.

He raised a brow, waiting expectantly, “Well?”

You couldn’t. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “It’s just hot.”

He reached his hand out and pressed the back of his palm to your forehead. The coolness of his skin against the heat of your face was like a salve to a cruel burn. You leaned into him, stifling your moan as best you could as your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt so good.

“Mm,” he hummed, pretending not to notice your weakness as he shifted his hand to your temple. “You’re burning up.” You knew he was taunting you when his hand slipped down to your neck, pressing against your scorching skin and sending goosebumps through your body. Your heart felt like it would leap out of your chest any time soon.

When he pulled his hand away, you felt like you could die on the spot as the fever-like heat came back immediately after. You tried to remain impartial, shaking your head to gather your thoughts enough to speak.

“Why couldn’t you have just performed the experiment on your own?” you questioned, wiping your forehead roughly to be rid of the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. “I don’t see how an external test subject was necessary.” Remaining as professional as possible seemed like your best course of action. Insanity or not, this was still a test—you were sure of it—and there was no way you would fail a personal test with Professor Crane and risk falling from such high esteem with him.

He reached behind him where his suit jacket lay neatly on the back of his seat. He removed a second handkerchief from an inside pocket with a dramatic whip, taking his glasses off to clean them as he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “If my theory is correct, the test must be performed with another person present. The substance works by increasing adrenaline. It’s quite similar to my fear toxin.”

You shook your head, “Fear toxin–”

“The adrenaline builds and builds,” he continued, cutting you off with little regard for you, as he glanced through the lenses, “increases the heart rate so much that—if left unresolved—the subject would experience a heart rate so high…” He finished polishing them off before replacing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and directing his analytical gaze toward you once more. With a lurking smile full of sadistic amusement, he spoke in a low voice, “...your little heart would burst in your chest.”

The anxiety curled in your chest until it began its fast evolution to fear. All these emotions mixing within you wasn’t good for your health—and, apparently, neither was this toxin he had infected you with. “...What?” you said. It was the only thing you could manage to say.

He shrugged, tilting his head with a slight roll of his eyes. “Well,” he began to correct himself, “not literally, of course. It’s highly improbable. But your heart would just…stop.” His eyes seemed to darken as he explained it to you, staring too deeply into your own anxious gaze as he seemed to enjoy every minute of this. With a breath, he began again. “And while my toxin has an antidote, there is only one way to reverse the effects of this aphrodisiac.”

You swallowed thickly. “Which is?”

He smirked, though he tried to hide it. “Sexual gratification.”

If you weren’t burning up, your blood would run cold…and then you’d run just as hot as you were running now. Your head was definitely spinning now, images of forbidden desires—which you had pushed down, down to the depths of your mind—flooding to the surface. So many fantasies, so many urges, being unlocked once more as you thought about…reversing the effects.

But, for the millionth time, he was your professor. It didn’t matter how many times you’d fantasized about him having you on your knees, his hands in your hair, his lips all over your body…it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen.

You tried not to clear your throat. It would make you more guilty than you already were. “W-well–” Damn it, you cringed. “–even if that’s true…gratification can be…achieved through…”

He raised a brow, happy to mock you. “Through?”

You took in a steadying breath, looking down at your legs to avoid looking up at him. Your skin was burning, your nerves were tingling with an increasing desire “Through self-pleasure. Masturbation. Couldn’t it?” You were already this far, there was no use in being shy.

But even then…

He tilted his head, sighing. “Unfortunately, no,” he said. “You see, once it has been ingested in any form, only another person's hormones can slow the process—which is why you’re still so in control right now–” you didn’t feel in control, “–but even that isn’t enough. In males, sexual gratification can only be achieved by the release of semen when mixed with a woman’s arousal. Likewise, for a female subject, gratification can only be met through insemination.”

He said it so quickly, so nonchalantly. You had no time to process as you blinked rapidly. “Insem–”

“Therefore, a partner is necessary for the experiment, and only a partner of the opposite sex is truly effective, so…I suppose that’s a loss for the homosexuals, hm?” He shrugged, amused by his own joke.

Pain spasmed in your stomach, a sharp stab in your gut and a stinging sensitivity to everything your skin came in contact with. “Fuck,” you sighed, folding over slightly just as a growing migraine became present enough to matter.

He sighed. “Language, please.”

You rubbed your palms harshly against your eyes, forcing your fingertips against your temple in a useless attempt to ease the pain roaring in your head, sacrificing the stabbing in your gut. “It hurts.” It took everything not to sob.

He turned his head. “What kind of pain?”

“All of the above,” you said impatiently, your voice breaking. “It hurts.”

He hummed and leaned forward. “And where does it hurt the most?” He gestured to your general body. “Or is it just about the same everywhere?”

“It's…” you hesitated, “everywhere.”

Crane tilted his head, looking at you with a glow of disappointment. He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them to the side and directing his attention entirely on you.

“Now, my dear,” you shuddered at the name, “This doesn't work if you aren't being completely and entirely honest with me. I am quite content to sit here and watch you succumb to my little toxin.” A wash of shock overtook you, your palpitating conflicted between beating too fast and stopping all together.

He continued, a taunting grin curving his lips as he gave you his cold stare. “Without me to help you,” he shrugged, “you have no way of reversing the effects. I'll say you came down with a sudden fever, one you just couldn't fight.”

The hair along your arms stood tall. He couldn't be serious, it was a joke… But when have you known Jonathan Crane to joke?

“But…” you fumbled, trying to decide what to say, “But I've been perfectly healthy. Why would people believe you?”

He tilted his head, looking at you like you were just the cutest, dumbest little thing. “This is Gotham, sweetheart.” He shrugged dismissively. “People die every day, and no one fucking cares.”

Breathing heavily, you put a hand over your stomach and let out a pained moan. You thought to yourself, over his words. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes.

“Cramps.”

He raised a brow questioningly. “Hm?”

“The pain,” you stated. “Stomach cramps, tender nipples and…and clitoris. Even the fabric of my clothes is too much. It hurts.” You ignored the heat in your face. It didn't matter now—the insecurity, the awkwardness. It was strictly scientific. Of course, it was.

“Very good,” he grinned, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Tell me more.”

“Tunnel vision, dizziness, migraine, short breath. It's like… it's almost like a panic attack.”

“Is that all?”

“It's really hot,” you huffed, another pained moan escaping through your unsteady breaths. “I'm really hot.” It didn't matter. “Fuck, professor, I need you.”

“What's that?” The fucker was getting off on teasing you like this, mocking you like it was his only pleasure in life.

“I need you,” you urged, trying not to sound as whiny as you feel.

“Is that so?” he raised a brow, smirking. “Have you told me everything then?”

“Yes, everything. Please.”

“Are you certain?” he pushed.

You felt the wet on your cheek and realized your need and the pain had reached your eyes, the tears welling along your waterline and dropping down in one streak down your face. “Please, I'll do anything!”

He paused slightly. “What's that?”

You reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling them into your lap. There was only one way to ease the pain, the heat, the desire. And you were set on it.

“I'll do anything! Just please, fuck me. Please,” you gasped, pushing through the pounding in your head and the fire in your core.

“Well,” he sighed, pulling his hand from your grasp to check his watch. He tsked to himself, thinking before he hummed. “I suppose I can do that.”

You could have cried—you were crying. “Thank you,” you sighed. “Thank you.”

“But,” he pointed a finger at your face, as though you were a dog being disciplined, “you must do as I say.”

You nodded urgently. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” You shuddered at his words, the praise washing over you like a wave swallowing you whole as you lay on the sandy shore of a beach.

He snapped at you, indefinitely grabbing your attention as he pointed to the space in front of him. You stood from the bed in a moment, your weak legs barely holding you up.

His hands landed on your waist, and you nearly melted at the contact. He turned you around in his hands, looking you up and down with an appreciative moan. “Let's see what we're working with,” he said. “Strip.” The order was plain and simple.

You did as you were told, trying not to be shy about it. He didn't care about shyness, and it didn't matter anyway.

You began peeling your clothes off, moving faster with each inch of skin revealed. Once you were bare in front of him, you fought the overwhelming urge to cover yourself. He wanted to see you, to see what you had to offer.

He hummed to himself, snapping again. “On your knees.” Again, you did as you were told.

Moving to your knees, he took your face in his large hands. You melted against him, your eyes fluttering shut as a deep moan escaped you. His hands felt so cool in comparison to your burning skin. If you weren't so desperate for more of what he had to offer, you would be perfectly content with sitting here and having him hold you like this.

When his hands lightly smacked your cheeks, your eyes snapped open as you brought yourself out of the sticky feeling of the subtle pleasure. “Keep your eyes open. And open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his thumb between them and pried your mouth open wide. He set his thumb on your tongue, pulling it over your bottom set of teeth and pushing his thumb farther into your mouth. Your breaths blew over his skin as he felt the softness of your cheeks, your tongue.

He surprised you when his hand was suddenly between your thighs, his fingers stroking through your folds as you gasped. “Jesus, you're fucking dripping.” He ran his fingers along your lower lips and the insides of your thighs where the arousal was smothered halfway down your thighs.

You whimpered and whined when he shoved his middle and ring fingers inside of you without warning, delving them into your hot, dripping, tight pussy. You tried not to squirm at the way his fingers wiggled inside you.

“Yes,” he sighed. “This'll do nicely.”

He pulled them out of you, shoving those same fingers between your lips to make you taste your arousal. “Suck,” he commanded. You obeyed.

You suckled around his fingers and felt another rush of molten arousal wash through you at the way he stares at you, his eyes dark and primal. You needed him.

“Strip me,” he said, pulling his hand away. From your knees, you unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, letting your hands press against the expanse of his chest and soothe you the slightest bit. You unbuckled his best and shoved his pants down his legs, removed it from his body like undoing ropes tying him to a chair.

You stared at his briefs, his half-hard erection tenting them as he enjoyed the sight of your mindless struggling. He placed a hand in your hair, gripping a fistful and holding you securely. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

You pulled his boxers down without hesitation and only faltered as you saw him for the first time. This was absurd. You never thought you'd find yourself in this situation—staring at your professor’s erection, long and hard and flushed with his own lust for your body, about to wrap your lips around it.

You gripped him in your hand and he stifled a grunt at the feeling of your insistence. You stroked him a few times before sticking your tongue out and licking a long strip up the underside of his cock, tasting his precum beading at the tip and immediately becoming addicted to the taste. Whether it was him or just his toxin, the taste of him was mesmerizing, and you would do anything for more.

You wrapped your lips around him, suckling around the tip and taking him deeper. He let his head fall back just a bit, still watching you as his thighs clenched and his hair gripped your hair tighter. He did not guide you or push you down, he didn't think he needed to. You surprised him as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, taking him farther and farther down with each trip back and forth until he was filling your throat with his length and making you gag.

He grunted as you suckled some more. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for any kind of pressure as your clit pulsed and your walls fluttered. You ran a hand down your body, dipping between your thighs to try and ease some of the tension. You pressed down hard on your clit one time, a moan coming from your throat and shivering through his spine.

He pulled you by your hair off of his cock. “Did I say you could touch yourself, sweetheart?” You shook your head pathetically. “Then why are you doing it?”

You couldn't win this, you knew that. Using your desperation as regret, you frowned and whispered, “Sorry, sir.”

He loosened his grip enough to let you get back to work, still holding onto you as he leaned back again. Your lips found his cock once more, addicted and able to ignore the burn for now, a short escape from the pain.

You swirled your tongue around him, suckling as you went along. Crane stared at you with a dark gaze as you sucked him off. You flattened your tongue against him, going farther down his length with each swallow around his tip. Sticky white precum continued to seep from his slit and onto your tongue. You were drunk on the taste of him, taking him as best you could.

Crane looked like a dream, his head tilted back and his lips parted as you brought him closer and closer to a great release. Both his hands were tangled in your hair by now, holding on to you and his remaining control.

He was right about the hormones. Being this close to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, the scent of his skin swirling around your head, was easing the searing desperation.

You felt him twitching on your tongue and suckled around him a little more. He was close, you could feel it. You didn't know if it was his toxin or not, but the idea of him spilling all over your tongue drove you crazy with lust.

He began to tense and groaned. “And that's enough of that,” he huffed, pulling you off of him by your hair and keeping you back, even through your attempts at licking the precum spilling from his tip.

“My, my,” he breathed. “Such a desperate little thing.”

You caught your breath as you spoke, your lips swollen and your eyes hooded as you did. “I need you,” you begged, gripping his thighs tight.

“Well,” he stood, snapping and gesturing for you to stand as well—you obeyed. “You'll have to be patient, sweetheart. I'm not through with my tests yet.” You whined. “Lay down.”

You did as told once again. He looked over your body, running a finger down the center of you, from your collarbone to your pelvis. You shuddered and whimpered but said nothing.

“I don't have any cuffs in here, so a tie will have to work.” He found his jacket draped along the back of his chair and pulled the tie neatly tucked inside of it out.

You held your breath as he reached for your hands, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. He put them around the bars of the headboard and, with more skill than you expected, tied them together to keep you bound there.

He gave a content sigh at the sight of you, smiling to himself. His eyes found yours as his fingertips grazed your side “Now, you can be as loud as you want. No need to hold back. We're all alone in here.”

He stood over you as his palm smoothed along your skin, reaching further down until he found your mound, slick and hot and waiting for something to slip inside it.

Your breath quickened in anticipation, waiting for him to make his move as his fingers played with your skin. Holding eye contact, he slipped his finger inside of you, parting your folds and burying itself in deep.

Your head lolled back as you moaned, the sound sticky with lust. He sank in deep, inch by torturous inch. You held your breath in your, feeling each little bit disappear, knuckle by knuckle, inside.

A second finger joined the first, spreading you open for him. They thrust and curled inside you. You moaned and found yourself grinding your hips into his palm. You needed more, more of him, the bliss of his fingers spread through your body to ease the fire and feed it all at the same time.

“Professor,” you whimpered. “More, please.”

“Hm?” he taunted. “That's not enough for you? You need more?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped.

You clenched around his fingers, feeling him pumping his fingers in and out of you. He curled them against a sweet spot deep within your dripping cunt, exploring your body and becoming familiar with each little nook and cranny. Your back arched and your moans were loud in the space of the bedroom. You had never felt so good before, just by his hands alone.

When his speed increased, you thought you would cry. The dizziness was eased by his pleasure, the headache had waned enough for you to see, and the pain in your stomach had simmered to a dull ache. But his fingers stuffed inside only seemed to heighten the heavy pulse in her veins.

You pulled at the tie wrapped around your wrists as you whined. “Professor, please,” you huffed. “I can't take it. I—fuck—needa cum.”

Letting out what seemed to be a disinterested sigh, he shrugged. “Since you want it so bad…” His thumb pressed against your clit and your back arched slightly at the contact.

You cursed breathily, seeing stars as the pleasure grew and grew and grew at the expertise of his hand. You thought you were going to explode, reaching your peak far too quickly as a knot began to build in your stomach. You tensed, clenching around his fingers as he spread them and curled them and pumped them in and out of you.

“Fuck, can I cum?” you moaned. “Please, professor, I need it so bad.”

He didn’t answer you, rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles as he felt you flutter around his fingers, he listened to your unsteady breath and felt your trembling thighs. You could feel yourself reaching that point, on the verge of finding that bliss…

You whimpered meekly when he suddenly stopped. Watching you with a dark smile, he chuckled as you squirmed and tried to move your hips against his hand. A tear slipped down the side of your face as the pain returned, sharper this time and spreading through your body like you’d been shocked.

“Dr. Crane, please,” you cried, squirming like a worm on a hook.

He laughed at you, looking your body up and down as he disregarded your need and spoke. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Another tear joined the first. “Please, I can’t.”

He tutted, shaking his head. “Ah-ah. Answer my question or I’ll stop completely.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Please, it hurts. So bad, everything hurts.”

He nodded, “Good girl.” He rewarded you with the movement of his hand once more, filling you back up with his fingers and thrusting them into you.

You were blinded by the pleasure and continued to ride it out, unknowingly that he was beginning a cycle. He would have you crying, breaking down in tears and so desperate to cum all over his hand, only to rob you of such pleasure every time you got close to tasting it. And it hurt. All of it hurt, like you were being burned alive. The imaginary flames licked at your flesh and threatened to sear it off your bones.

You didn’t know how many times he’d done this cruel act upon you, how long you’d been laying there with your legs spread open wide and his fingers shoved inside of you, too caught up in the pain and the ecstasy of it all. “C-Crane,” you muttered, your lips and your tongue lazy with dissatisfaction. “Please.”

You could tell how fun this experiment was for him, and not even in just the sadistic way. He watched you closely, his eyes hooded and dark and his cheeks pink. His cock was still hard, maybe harder still in a painful way that your useless sounds helped him to ignore.

He hummed deeply, considering another dance with desperation. But he let out a deep sigh and shrugged. “I suppose,” he said, his thumb, which had been lazily rubbing too-slow circles on your clit, picking up once again.

And you were so scared it was a trick, that he would pull away and leave you to sob again at the loss of stimulation. The knot built, the dam overflowed, and as you reached your breaking point, you gasped when it all came loose. Your back arched, and you went blind as the pleasure crashed down on you like nothing you’d ever felt.

You cried out his name—or some garbled version of his name that came with not being in touch with your own body. You moaned, breathing too fast and dizzying yourself with your harsh breaths as you did. Crane smiled as he watched you, coaxing you through it as he noted just how good this orgasm must have felt for you.

“Look at you go,” he smiled, still rubbing your clit as he watched the last spasms of pleasure shoot through you. You were so pretty like this, writhing in bed as you came on his hand for the first time, whimpering and whining like a dog.

He pulled his hand from you, darting his tongue to lick the bottom lip of his wolfish grin.

As you began to settle, you let in a deep breath to fill your lungs, laying back lazily as you were offered a moment of stillness. All the pain from before was gone, the thumping in your heart calmed to a slightly quickened ut otherwise rhythmic beat. You could breathe.

Crane was staring at his watch, looking between you and it as he seemed to time something. You paid him little mind, soaking up the calm for as long as you had it.

It was all too soon that the pain began to slip back in, first as a distant sting in your head, then as the dull ache in your stomach. As your breath sped again at the slowly increasing ache, so too did your heart once more. Then the sensitivity of your skin, the burn of your goosebumps rubbing against the sheets or clashing cruelty with the air.

Unable to take so much, you began to cry. “Professor,” you spoke shakily. “Fuck, it hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. I can't—I can't, I can't.”

“Two minutes and seventeen seconds,” he stamped. “It took two minutes for the aphrodisiac to kick in again after the first orgasm has been reached.”

He stared at you, rubbing his bottom lip and sighing with a distant smile. “Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he mumbled. “To make you cum over and over and over again until you're,” he sighed longingly, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching with an urge he tried to conceal, “sobbing, trembling in my hands, begging me to stop.”

You shuddered, wanting it so badly but also dreading the opposite of this torture, where you would never stop shaking, never be able to calm as he pulled an orgasm after you one right after the other.

He shook himself out of his daydream. “But, I'm not sure how long you've got. That's an experiment for another day.”

You wanted to say something, but you were at your point in desperation where words were harder and harder to form unless the adrenaline really kicked in.

He positioned himself on the bed, his hand smoothing over your sides. “I bet you need me now, don't you?” Whining pathetically and not caring anymore about sounding decent, you nodded. “Yes, you do. You need me to fuck you, hhh? Take you nice and rough from behind. You need me to fuck you nice and deep, little slut?”

You nodded again, crying, “Please.”

He stood on his knees in front of you, taking your body in his hands and flipping you around, not caring for a moment that you were still tied to the bed frame with your arms now crossed.

He pulled you up on your knees and put your ass on display for him. His hands slapped down on your ass, rubbing harshly on the skin as you whined.

“Be a good girl and beg me to fuck you, sweetheart,” he breathed.

Had you not begged enough? You couldn't count the amount of times you'd told him “Please, professor, please,” and been denied for the sake of his sadism?

Still, you were desperate and you could care less at the moment about his urge to humiliate you. So you did beg, your pounding heart squeezing tears out of your eyes.

“Please, Crane,” you sobbed. “Please, I need you so fucking bad. It hurts, please.”

You were about to continue pouring your heart out when he cut you off. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “Calm down. It's not that serious.”

He took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a couple times as he spread your folds for him. In one push, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your tight pussy. He groaned roughly as you clenched around his cock and moaned.

“So fucking tight,” he sighed. “You've been needing this, haven't you?”

You moaned deep in your throat, melting at the feeling of him buried so deep. He chuckled, high off the sight of you so weak. He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that burned at your nerves until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. You lost your breath, your lungs squeezed tight at the pleasure.

He grunted, doing it again and again and again as he just kept holding you tighter, pulling you back to meet each thrust. The smack of his hips against your ass was loud and followed in quick succession as he gave you no time between each thrust to recover.

You felt like your brain had melted, reduced to. a pile of mush in your head as you let yourself be devoured by the pure ecstasy of each thrust staving off the pain of the toxin burning you out.

You gripped the sheets, clenching and unclenching and trying so hard to keep it together as he split you open on his cock.

Crane was hardly keeping it together himself, gripping your waist as he fucked into you from behind. His hair had fallen over his eyes, which were dark and crazed. He had you in his clutches—you, his prey and he, your predator, his teeth and claws in your flesh and bone.

“Is this everything you imagined?” he huffed, bringing a hand to wrap around your throat and pull you up.

You clenched tighter around him and felt your limbs going weak—if he hadn't been holding you up, you would have fallen against the bed again.

“W-What?” you gasped, small and pathetic.

He laughed darkly. “You think I didn't know? What, you thought I couldn't see the way you stared at me during my lectures? You thought I didn't see your glances at my crotch, wondering how big my cock was? Huh? How good it would feel if I fucked you?”

You just kept moaning, unable to hold in your pleasures sobs. He fucked you a little harder, pulling more and more out of you as he did. “Why do you think I chose you, huh?” he taunted, laughing again. “You were perfect for the role. My cock hungry student who would do anything to impress me. Fuck, you were practically begging to be the subject of this experiment.”

It was hard to listen to him when you could barely focus on your own pleasure. Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, coating you in slick. He just kept fucking you, drunk on the pleasure.

“N-Need,” you stuttered, trying to form the words as your tongue was not your own. “Mm-fuck, needa cum.”

He didn't say anything this time as he pressed his finger to your clit. You went limb, letting yourself fall onto the bed as you whined pathetically.

“Look at you,” he smiled, his head tilted back as he relished in the squeeze of your cunt. “My little fucking whore. Does it feel good?” He laughed again, rubbing your clit a little faster. “Are you gonna cum on my cock like a pathetic slut? Hm?”

To answer his question, you did. You let out a choked cry when you came, your eyes rolling back as you went blind with the pleasure that crashed down on you. Your whole body shattered, and your thighs shook at the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” he huffed as you began tighter, your pussy fluttering around him and only bringing him closer to his own longed-for release. “That's a good fucking girl.”

Your head was filled with white-noise as you floated in that space between orgasms, where your whole body was numb to everything else going on. As he kept fucking you, it didn't last long. You came to and found yourself thrown into another dance of lust.

You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave to you. “You like that? You like being ruined by me? Hm?” he breathed, still rubbing your clit, even as you squirm.

You didn't respond, overcome by whining moans. But that was more amusing. “I know you do,” he said. “You liked being fucked dumb, don't you?”

His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher. His finger on your clit continued to build you up, higher and higher.

“Are you gonna cum again?” he asked, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he kept fucking into you. “Yeah? You're squeezing my cock like you are.”

You managed to nod your head and nothing more, the knot building again in your stomach getting so tight, so close to another blinding release. You braced for it as it grew closer.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, too,” he breathed. “Gonna cum—so deep inside you. You'll be dripping with me, sweetheart.”

You mewled, closer and closer to–

A loud cry tore from your throat as you came again, blinded and devoured and reduced to nothing but a sobbing mess as the pleasure shook through your body like a rattle.

Unable to hold himself in anymore, he moaned roughly as he spilled so deep inside of you. He gripped you roughly, pulling you back against his cock as he buried himself deep, grinding into you as he fucked his cum inside so you were stuffed with it.

“Fuck, I love this tight little cunt,” he huffed. “Perfect for me.” Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tight as you squelched and gushed around him.

You lay limp against the sheets as the blood roared in your ears. After a moment, when he'd caught his breath and came down from his high, he pulled out of you and let you fall against the bed.

He breathed, letting out a deep sigh. He looked down at you, your spent body still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. He picked up your leg, pulling it apart to see your pussy, stuffed and leaking his cum.

He could have cum again at the mere sight of you, your messiness, your exhaustion. He dropped your leg and sat next to your limp body.

“Now,” he said, another breath leaving his lungs. “How do you feel?”

You just lay there, letting out a tiny moan after a while as your only response as you tried to recover. All the pain had disappeared, and all that was left was the heaviness in your limbs and the sore muscles to come.

He hummed a laugh. “I bet.” He reached for his glasses, putting them on the bridge of his nose once more and adjusting them.

He stood, walking somewhere in the room as your eyes followed him. When he picked up a camera hidden in the corner capturing everything that just happened, you couldn't do anything but think about how you wanted to watch it back and see just how much he'd wrecked your body.

He stopped the recording, setting the camera down with a smile. He looked at you again, kneeling in front of the bed as he rested his chin on his hands. “So many things for us to do, so many experiments to run. And now I've got you,” he chuckled, “my own personal lab rat.”

You watched him lazily, the exhaustion pulling at your system. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, moving as much as you could as your lips melded together. It breathed life into you, more life than it should have.

He pulled away all too soon, standing up and turning away from you as he left the room. You laid there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the night. His own personal lab rat.

You smiled.

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyism @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bernelflo @dragonslayersupremacy @alurafairy @pietroxreader @darkcastle167 @neonpurplestars89-blog Tag yourself here...

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader smut #dc scarecrow #batman begins #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane fanfiction #batman begins fanfic #fanfic #fanficiton #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

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peakyswritings · 1 year

Text

Too young to love you

Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: They said she was too young to love him, that he wasn’t good for her. But they were wrong, right?

Warnings: age gap (Tommy’s in his 40s, she is in her 20s), this goes a bit dark at the end if you squint, tiny indirect reference to smut - again, if you squint, but nothing graphic.

A/N: I wrote this for @jomarch-wannabe ‘s celebration, and I chose the prompt “They say I’m too young to love you”. Congrats again, darling🤍

Dividers credit

Tommy stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching as his wife finished getting ready for the soirée waiting for them. The ivory silk dress he had bought for her gracefully hugged her body like a glove, enhancing her figure without being overly revealing. He knew all eyes would be on her, and his chest swelled with pride at the thought that only he would be the one to take her home.

He walked up to her with slow steps, giving her the time to put on her earrings. Then he placed his strong hands on her naked shoulders, slowly trailing them up towards the base of her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure for her to relax under his touch. She leaned with her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, lowering to bury his nose in the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, relishing her scent. “You look beautiful.” He whispered, feeling her quiver at the sensation of his hot breath brushing her skin. Tommy couldn’t hold back a grin at her reaction. He loved how sensitive she was, how easy it was to make her melt into his arms. But as much as he wanted to let himself get intoxicated by her perfume and her touch, it was not the right time.

“I’ve got something for you.” He murmured in her ear.

(Y/n) turned around to face her husband, her eyes shining with curiosity as a smile made its way on her face. “What?”

“Close your eyes.” He instructed, taking a few steps back. “No peeking.” He raised his eyebrows, pointing a warning finger at her. She let out a chuckle, doing as he said.

Tommy took a bracelet out of his pocket, one he had bought just a few hours prior, when he was looking for a gift to surprise her. He enjoyed spoiling his wife with jewels, lingerie and dresses probably a bit too much, but nothing compared to the feeling he got when saw them on her. The intricate design of dainty flowers made of small gems caught his eye immediately at the jewellery shop. It was delicate. It made him think of her.

He gently grabbed one of her wrists and clasped the bracelet around it, watching as she furrowed her eyebrows. He held her wrist in his hand, slowly caressing her velvet skin with his thumb. “You can look.”

(Y/n) opened her eyes, and for a few moments she was completely speechless. She shifted her gaze from the jewel to Tommy, the look of surprise not leaving her face. It was clear that it was probably more expensive than anything he had ever bought her.

“Tommy, it’s beautiful.” She mumbled, glancing at the bracelet again. “But you didn’t have to. You spoil me enough already.”

Tommy gave her a soft smile, bringing his other hand to her cheek to tenderly caress it with his knuckles. Little did she know that the fact that she never took his gifts for granted was one more reason for him to keep on coddling her. She wasn’t with him for his wealth, or his power, or his name. She loved him. The least he could do in return was to give her everything he got.

His hand found the back of her head, and he brought her forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “You deserve it, love.”

Tommy closed his eyes as she snuggled against him, the feeling of her frame against his strong body bringing him a comfort he thought he’d never be able to feel again. He held her in his embrace, one hand cradling her head, the other digging in her waist, eager to feel every inch of her body pressed against him. And her behaviour during the past few days told him that she needed that just as much as he did.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, moving away a bit so that he could look at her.

“I’m nervous.” She admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Why?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “My family will be there.”

Tommy stayed silent, a way to encourage her to go on. She pressed her lips together, taking her time to find the words. “I’m nervous because I know what they say.” She carefully said, fidgeting with her fingers. “What everyone says.”

He placed two fingers under her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. “And what does everyone say, eh?” He squinted his eyes.

“That I’m too young to love you.” Her voice was just a little more than a whisper as she repeated what she had been told too many times. What they had been told too many times. What people whispered behind their backs. “That you’re not good for me.”

“Do you believe it?” Tommy brought his face even closer now, his lips barely brushing against hers as he breathed out those words.

“No.” She uttered, her eyelids fluttering.

“Then it doesn’t matter, alright?” His voice got hoarser as his fingers trailed down her neck, before going up again to cup her jaw. “They can go fuck themselves. What do they know, mh? It’s me and you, (Y/n).”

Her eyes shut close, and Tommy was sure that if it weren’t for his hold on her, her knees would give out.

“Look at me.” He ordered, tightening his grip on her face. “It’s me and you.” He reiterated as soon as his eyes met hers.

However, there was a voice in the back of Tommy’s mind telling him that maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of truth in those words, even though he never dared admit it to himself, or to her. She was young, and good, and pure, and she had chosen him. And he knew that it was just a matter of time before he tainted her, before the blood on his hands stained her beautiful skin, before the blackness of his soul devoured every drop of her light. Would he still love her, then?

His train of thoughts was interrupted by her soft voice, along with the feeling of her fingers tracing the scar on his cheekbone. “It’s you and me.”

A shock of desire swept through him, and he couldn’t restrain himself anymore from crushing his lips against hers, all his doubts leaving his mind. All he could think about now was her, her scent, her touch, her sounds.

It was him and her.

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic

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ravencincaide · 11 months

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Desperate times call for desperate measures

Summary: You leave your small twins with Dazai and Chuuya and hope the two of them can manage their fatherly-duties while you take an hour of much needed ‘me time’. Scratch that, you just needed long enough to take a shower in order to feel human again before going back to being a mom.

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 8: Napping together

Warning: Cursing, hints at depression/ postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents.

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You were going to kill Chuuya.

No, you decided as you paced back and forth around the house, rocking the fussing twins in your arms. You were going to kill Mori for dragging your Chuuya out of his parental leave to deal with whatever shit Dazai had gotten himself into. You had thought the suicidal maniac of a lover would have gotten more efficient on missions- or at the very least more considerate. Nope. Still, somehow, if one part of twin dark was sent on a mission, he’d get in sufficient shit to need the second one's assistance.

Responsible adults, your ass.

You sighed as the wailing continued with no amount of rocking, hushing, singing and pacing doing much to ease the tears. You were also silently cursing Chuuya for getting you pregnant with twins, why couldn’t it have been one to start with? Though you admitted as you looked down at the two crying balls of ginger, they were adorably cute; both took after their father in appearance,inheriting Chuuyas ginger hair and stunning blue eyes. With the only seeming resemblance to you being in their chins and petit nose.

You definitely picked the short straw you mused bitterly as another loud cry made your ears ring.

The ginger haired girl was crying and waving her doll around every now and then, getting it tangled in your hair or hitting you on the head with it with a surprising amount of strength. Her twin, an almost identical copy of her with slightly fluffier hair and larger eyes, was just gripping onto you and crying. He wasn’t wailing as loudly as his sister but the teardrops that rolled down his cheeks were larger, almost comical.

There was no doubt in your mind that they were setting each other off. And all this mess because you got distracted and missed nap time.

God you could feel yourself reaching your limit. What you’d give for just a little bit of time to yourself- a few hours was all you asked for. Something you hadn’t seen much of- if any after giving birth. As soon as the twins were born you got to spend a month in the hospital recovering before you and the babies were allowed home. Then it went downhill from there. First the wonderful nanny that you had picked out had to leave your services. The agency you hired her through was quick to send a replacement, but that woman got killed in an unfortunate plane crash. Getting another replacement was proving more challenging. Then almost directly after, despite being barely at home Dazai pulled from parental leave due to ‘emergencies’; first several back-to-back abroad missions where he’d only come home for a few days tops and then his last one for which he left over two months ago. You had Chuuya but even he had to go back into the office several times a week.In the best case. If that wasn’t making your existence miserable, suddenly Dazai needed backup out of the blue, forcing Chuuya to leave without warning in the middle of the night.

For the last two months you were completely alone.

You had to do everything; from childcare to household chores, to different parenting classes and doctors visits with the two. In the evenings after putting them to bed you’d be sitting and going through reports and reviewing mission statements to keep your lovers workload manageable and the department not at a standstill. It became your job to ensure subordinates were still sent out on missions and nothing critical, that couldn’t wait until their return, got missed. Then you’d get a little cleaning and food prep done, shower if you managed to do that before the babies woke up for their nightly feedings. When you’d crawl into bed you’d shut your eyes for twenty minutes at a time, plagued by nightmares of your partners drying and being a failure as a mother. When you’d finally calm your demons, the twins would get hungry again so you’d be up to warm the bottle for them before changing them and rocking them back to sleep. Sometimes you’d fall asleep right on the soft carpeted floor with both of them cuddling to your chest, sleeping a few hours longer than in their own beds.

Those mornings were your salvation.

You let out a loud groan, looking up at the ceiling as you felt tears sting your eyes. You didn’t know if children were meant to scream and cry so much. You didn’t know if you were doing this right or wrong. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You just wanted them to be healthy and happy- why couldn’t you do that? You brought them closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “ Mama’s trying her hardest” you muttered as you continued to rock them “Mama would really really need a helping hand though.”

It seemed gods took pity on you just this once.

You nearly broke down crying or screamed out in joy when you heard the car pulling up to your driveway. Then silence before a key pushed into the lock followed by the door swinging opened.

“ Sweetheart we’re back!” Chuuya yelled as he kicked off his shoes. You heard Dazai’s voice muttering something to him, the bickering overshadowed by the twins' cries. You made quick way towards the hallway. The moment Chuuya and Dazai came into sight, new screams filled the house; excited cries of “ Dada” and “ papa” which bounced off the walls, a bitter reminder that you children were never this excited to see you.

You could see Chuuya chuckling, a bright expression on his face full of love and happiness. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the yelling- if anything it seemed to fill him with contagious happy energy and an eagerness to get his damned coat off so he could come to the children. Dazai, dressed in completely white attire, which resembled something between a prison uniform and the dresscode of asylum patients seemed less happy about the screaming. But even he had a smile playing on his lips as he hurried towards you at the same time as Chuuya, who had given up on hanging his coat and just threw it on the ground. The two were practically tripping over each other, with each ‘papa’ and ‘dad’ cry getting more and more eager to get to you, limbs frailing; hands, arms and snappy remarks at each others inability to get out of the others way.

Finally they seemed to remember how to walk and the bottleneck in your hallway was replaced by two adult men rushing towards you.

“ How are my loves?” Chuuya cheered looking far too happy as he hurried pressed a kiss to your children's heads. First the boy then the girl. Dazai did the same in the opposite order, both ignoring you and your puckered lips.

For a second a pang of jealousy hit your heart. You hadn’t seen your partners in over two months and before greeting you, their attention was on the children. Picture perfect fathers. Shitty lovers. And the second the thought entered your head you felt your heart drop to your stomach with guilt. In what sane world was a mother jealous of the attention her babies were getting? You should be happy and proud that both of your partners- not only the biological father- cared so deeply for the balls of joy you created. Though, you added almost bitterly, right now these two brought you anything but joy.

“ Here” you stated in a slightly bitter tone as you pawned over one kid per partner “ Do everyone a favour and act like fathers for longer than 30 seconds. I need some ‘me- time’ before I murder someone”

Chuuya and Dazai shared a look of bewilderment between each other as you stepped away from them. They had expected kisses, hugs and a warm dinner but got a kid each and a blank stare in return. Dazai stared at your retreating form with agap mouth for a moment before he stretched the little girl towards Chuuya; “ Here Chuuya be a good dad, me and Y/N have some catching up to do.”

You pretended to ignore what he said, the same way he ignored your comment about ‘me time’. Though you wondered if you should at the very least make them dinner before taking out that ‘me time’ moment.

“ Heeh stop being so bitter and just hold her, Mackerel.” Chuuya snapped trying to get the boy to settle in his arms “if your swimmers could actually swim they’d be your kids”

“ Don’t be such a slug about it” Dazai declared as he turned his attention away from Chuuya as the boy began sobbing again making Chuuya curse before attempting to pacify him. Zero attention to either Dazai or the girl in his arms.

In the process the girl-child who had just settled down, amusing herself by pulling on strands of Dazai’s grown out hair, turned her attention away from him and towards her crying brother. Seeing him cry, her eyes began to water.

In seconds Dazai’s attention was back to you; “ Ohh Belladonna you’d not be so cruel as to demand your newly returned partner whom you haven’t seen for months to be a father without sleep or proper meal “ Despite his dramatic words he shifted the girl to his other arm so her back was to her brother and began rocking her more quickly. His second hand was trying to keep her attention on the doll she had abandoned in favour of his hair. The very doll she had been hitting you with not even ten minutes earlier. Scratch your earlier thoughts. They were adults and older than you- they knew how to order in or warm up leftovers!

You sighed heavily before you went towards the kitchen and the fridge. “ Then you boys are in agreement that we stop at two right?” You questioned when you returned with a cold rattle for the boy. He was quick to grasp it in his hands before beginning to chew on it. The relief it brought was sufficient to stop the tears.

For now.

When you got no reply, you motioned between the two of them and then to the children in their arms. If you weren’t so tired you’d have laughed at the look of horror drawing of Dazai’s face as he realized you were serious, and then the very hurt expression at the mere idea of not having any children of his own with you. That look melted a piece of ice around your heart. “ Or can you manage to look after them for an hour while I take a shower in peace?”

Your lovers nodded eagerly, both giving you a salute before shuffling off towards the baby proofed living room with toys, a playpen and floor covered in soft playmats. Your eyes lingered long enough until they were out of sight before you headed upstairs to your bedroom. Once there you dragged yourself towards the chair by your make up table which had a thin layer of dust over your make up palettes. Serving as a bitter reminder of just how ‘much’ time you dedicated towards yourself in the past months. The thought plastered a bitter smirk on your face; no wonder you didn’t get as much as a kiss-hello from either Dazai or Chuuya.

You dropped in the chair with a heavy sigh and buried your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand where you were making mistakes; how could other mafia women manage to do so much more? More time with children, more work, more chores- many would even visit headquarters to spend lunch with their husbands.

Husbands- the word brought a bitter taste to your mouth. How long have you three been together already? How many milestones have you celebrated? Missions, promotions, twins. Plans for extending the family with at least one more kid- Dazai’s. And still your ring finger remained bare. In fact after the icy greeting today you doubted your relationship would ever move anywhere positive from this standstill.

You heard steps outside your bedroom, irritated and heavy before the door to your bedroom swung open with Dazai’s usual dramatic appearance “ Ahh my sweet Belladonna my heart-”

You didn’t need to turn around to know the look he was wearing.” One hour” you stated “ Or no more kids. Your choice”

The door closed as quickly as it had opened.

The peaceful silence didn’t last for long. Though you didn’t know how long you were sitting in your thoughts, salvaging a moment of being alone, you knew it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes before you were interrupted again. This time the footsteps outside your door were calmer and more confident. Their owner opened the door very gently. You closed your eyes biting back the frustration as you heard Chuuya’s half hesitant whisper “Sweetheart..”

“ What is it, Chuuya?” You still didn’t have it in you to face him.

“ If you want to soak in the bath, it's ready any minute now” You nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cold to him. Especially when he went out of his way to do something nice for you. “ Also, do you know where the nursing bottles are?”

There it was.

“ There are some prepared bottles in the fridge; just place them in boiling water for a few seconds until they’re body temperature. Not too hot.” You rubbed your temple as you spoke, fighting off the want to cry and scream much like the children downstairs. These were things he as their father was supposed to know. Or at least be able to figure it out on his own. He could lead an entire faction on his own, why couldn’t he handle a baby or two?

After your reply you heard Chuuya linger in the doorway for a few moments. You pictured him opening and closing his mouth, hesitating as he thought over what to do. A hopefully side of you hoped he’d come in and wrap his arms around you and just hold. Just fucking hold you for a moment without the children being present. Then another cry from downstairs and he was gone; the door shutting quietly behind himself.

You waited for a moment, gathering your strengths before leaving the safety of your room, rushing quietly through the small hallway, trying not to waver at the sound of the children's cries. Once in the bathroom you closed and locked the door before leaning your back against it. Why did no one tell you that when you’d become a mother you’d become so alone while constantly surrounded by others?

Shaking your head you stripped before climbing into the baths. You let out a low moan as the feeling of bath salts soothed your skin. Then salvaged the moment of humanity as you dipped your head underwater with the realization you didn’t need to watch anyone while you washed. Then you reached for the shaving blade and shaving cream, getting rid of the hair on your body that annoyed you more than you’d ever wish to admit.

When you got out of the bathtub and showered off, you felt human. Like a sliver of being a woman was returned to you. Dressing in clean clothes only reinforce that. Now then you were feeling more ready to tackle the rest of this cursed day.

Coming out of the bathroom you noticed how quiet it was. The silence filled you with dread; anyone with children knew that the only time they were quiet was either when something was wrong or they were up to something, while anyone acquainted with Dazai and Chuuya were very aware that the two together were constantly either bickering or yapping.

Silence like this filled you with dread.

Throwing your dirty laundry carelessly to the side you rushed downstairs, heart in your throat. When you made it down the stairs you stopped, shocked as the sound of snores reached your ears. More carefully you made your way towards the livingroom being cautious to remain light on your feet.

Once there you leaned against the wall, your eyes falling on the heartwarming sight before you. All four of them were on the soft playmat. Chuuya was lying stretched out on his back on his coat, an arm dropped over his eyes and loud snores resonating around the room. On his chest lay your daughter with his hat covering her head from the light. His hand was on her body keeping her close to himself. Dazai was lying curled up into a ball on his side, beside Chuuya. His messy head on his thigh. Your son laying in his arms, held close to himself through a make-ship baby-carry out of his bandages. Although he wasn’t snoring you could tell he was fast asleep by the rise and fall of his shoulders.

Going over to the couch you picked up the warm covers before gently placing it over them. You saw Dazai stir, a sleepy eye opening just long enough to register that you weren’t a threat then he shifted slightly, creating a space between him and Chuuya for you. “ Don’t be a stranger Belladonna” he whispered as he beckoned you to lay down between them.

Once you did, he wrapped one arm around you, the second one still holding your son in place, before he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath in and out, his hand finding yours and squeezing it once before interlocking your fingers together. “ I’ve missed you” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness “ Lets rest now and when we wake up I wanna give you a proper greeting Bella”

Before you could answer he was fast asleep. Which was probably good because it saved you the embarrassment of explaining why his one sentence brought you to tears.

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Author note: Craving part 2?

Check out We need to talk for the sweeter version, and Happy Unhappy home! For more angst.

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#dazai x chuuya x reader #soukoku x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya #sweetober #new parents #desperate times call for desperate measures

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lulublack90 · 5 months

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Prompt 1 - Accidental Eavesdropping

@wolfstarmicrofic May 1, word count 706

Remus curled into his favourite hiding place. Behind a tapestry, up a corridor and around a bend in a small chamber and above that chamber, there was a ledge with a window that looked out over the black lake.

It was quiet, and few knew of its existence, so sometimes, when things were getting on top of him, he liked to come here and hide out for a few hours with a good book.

Remus had been there only about ten minutes when he heard the sound of footsteps echoing off the corridor walls. Damn it, he thought as he shuffled closer to the window. Please go past. Please go past. He silently willed whoever it was using the shortcut. Please don’t know about the chamber.

But the pair did, and they entered through the obscured doorway, casting silencing charms as they did in case anyone walked past when they should have been more concerned with the six-foot seventeen-year-old trying to make himself as small as possible above them.

“The dreams are getting worse, Prongs. Last night, I dreamed we were in the shower, and it was all streamy, and then there was soap, and things started happening, and when I woke up, things had, you know, happened. James, what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” Merlin, James and Sirius had come to chat privately and there he was listening in because he was trapped on a window ledge.

“I mean, I think it's gone past simply fancying now and turned into a full-blown crush,” James said unhelpfully. Sirius groaned into his hands.

“I need you to help me, Prongs,” Sirius pleaded. “What should I do?” Girl trouble, Remus rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel bad about hearing what they said any more. The amount of times he’d heard about Sirius's latest girl crush. He went back to his book, blocking them out.

“Well, do you like him enough to ask him out?” James asked. Him? Sirius was interested in boys!!! Remus put his book away and crawled as close to the edge as he could without being seen.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way, Prongs? What if he tells everyone? I don’t think I’m ready for everyone to see that side of me.” Remus could hear the panic and sadness in Sirius’s voice and wanted more than anything to wrap him in his arms and--

“He’s your best mate. He’d never do that to you. We’ve known him since we were eleven. Have you ever known him to be that cruel?” James had clapped a hand on Sirius’s back.

“I suppose so,” Sirius snuffled. “I need to get him on his own. Test the waters and see if he feels the same way. Will you help me, James?”

“Don’t be daft, of course, I’ll help you. Right, first things first, let's take a trip to Honeydukes.” James said brightly.

“I don’t need to go there, James. I need to plan what to say.”

“Right, and we can do that as we’re walking. Trust me, if you get some chocolate and give it to him. Remus will stay in the same room as you for at least five minutes, and you can make your move then.” Remus froze. Had James really just said Sirius wanted to ask him out? Sirius’s mystery crush was him. Remus wanted to fling himself out of his hiding place and launch himself at Sirius, confess he’d had the same feelings for so long. But the way Sirius had seemed so worried stopped him. He decided he’d make his way back up to the dorm room and wait there for him.

He waited for the sound of their feet to fade away before he unfurled himself and dropped to the stone floor. He’d never rushed so quickly up to Gryffindor tower as he did just then. He washed his face, combed his hair and made sure he had his softest jumper on.

A tap at the door alerted him to Sirius’s return.

“Hey, Remus, I got you something,” Sirius said shyly and held up Remus’s favourite chocolate bar.

This was it. Remus took a streaming breath and waited for what he’d dreamed of for years to finally, finally begin.

Second part

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Wednesday, December 23rd

The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials.

At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day.

And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right?

“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends.

You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite.

“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.”

“Well, does he colour his drawings?”

You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.”

“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?”

Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.”

“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.”

“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.”

“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches.

They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available.

“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.”

“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette.

“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?”

“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?

“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?”

You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.”

“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled.

“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?”

“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.”

“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile.

“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over.

As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.”

“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box.

“Would you like me to call you a cab?”

You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”

The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited.

When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?”

No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room.

There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak.

We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.

You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room.

That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire.

“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney.

“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?”

“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.”

“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.”

You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed.

Thursday, December 24th

There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.”

“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles.

The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people. Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative.

“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed.

By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.”

Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.

“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”

You frowned at that, that had never been your intention.

“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–”

“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you.

“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”

“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile.

“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.”

You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.

“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued.

You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.

When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof.

Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on.

“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.”

“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?”

“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.”

“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question.

“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.”

“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.”

“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”

Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.”

“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.”

“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way?

You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love.

When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether?

“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”

Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.”

“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”

Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks.

You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water.

Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime. Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still. Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast. Your bestest friend, James P. PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff. PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius.

James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.

You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning.

You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’.

It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites.

And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.

When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him.

You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read.

You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all.

Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’.

Friday, December 25th

You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl.

“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again.

You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments.

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?”

The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been.

Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left.

Merry Christmas Star Seeker, Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended! Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.

You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours.

Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play, Love, The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha.

You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny.

You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it: “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable.

And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh.

When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting.

You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles, dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily

You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open.

You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions.

There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while.

It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?”

You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note.

Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder. You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts. AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it. Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas! Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend, Prongs.

You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant.

After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first.

You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself. Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.

You laughed, he’s not wrong.

Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean. As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter. You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want. All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift. Love, Sirius

See the letter here

You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered.

There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel.

There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French:

À l'étoile la plus brillante. Amour,

And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you.

Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that.

You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting.

Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift.

As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter.

Hey there, Little Witch, Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that. I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he? Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own. Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes. There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too. Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it. Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true. Love, Moony. PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.

See the letter here

By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made.

He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.

“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve.

You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to.

You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents.

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case.

You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck.

One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room.

“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room.

You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings.

“We’ll take the floo?” you asked.

Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle.

“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party.

“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.”

The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx