#and that leaves like.... four more? so everyone gets to fight to the death for those i guess. kokomi gets at least one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riordanness · 5 months

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tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark x reader fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfic #suzanne collins #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird

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screamingfromuz · 7 months

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People have tried a few approaches to get through to you. I'm going to try another. Why do you think this attack was such a surprise in Israel but not to anyone else on earth? When I ask people I know IRL (In the UK) about this, they say, "I'm shocked by what Hamas are doing but what did Israel expect to happen?" Outside Israel it's clear to everyone that the Gaza Strip situation was going to lead to something like this. You've known about Gaza your whole life, you've know that situation was festering for decades, so why the surprise? How did you think this would end?

i'm emotional, so you won't get a good well researched and structured answer, but an emotional ramble. but you don't want a well researched and organized answer, you want me to cave in call israel a monster colonizer and praise the "brave palestinian freedom fighters". fuck you. or say something you can use to prove how bad all israelis are and how good all palestinians are.

do you know what happened back in the 90s when the news of peace talk broke? the amount of attacks against Israelis grew, the death toll grew. in the four years after the accords the death doll doubled. Palestinian authorities celebrated that "israel gave so much without getting back like fools" and "the only good thing that came out of the accords was the intifada".

so I turn the fucking question to you? what is Israel supposed to do? who are we to talk to to reach peace? or should it dissolve? turn power on my life to people who stated they would like to kill or expel all the Jews? give more resources to a terrorist group? you saw where they put the money they get.

why the fuck do you think Israel exist? because we learned that we can never be free nor safe to be ourselves under the control of others. do you know that between 1948-1951 about 300000 MENA Jews became refugees? and the only reason nobody cares is because Israel took them in, while the whole arab world was happy to leave the Palestinians to rot. do you want a fucking list of every atrocity that was made during this conflict? because both sides have a very long one and the big difference is that Israel fucking won the 1948 war!

and of-fucking-coarse we knew something big was gonna happen! it was in the news for months! people have been screaming at the assholes in charge for so long! it doesn't make it less horrifying! it doesn't matter that we knew that Hamas are stealing all the recourse to make missiles and are going to take advantage of the chaos in israel, it doesn't matter that our extremists are feeding their extremists, cause IT DOESN'T MAKE IT FUCKING RIGHT! we knew Hamas will do some horrid war crime but didn't want to think that people will take whole cities hostage and kidnap and murder hundreds! nobody wanted it to become a fucking war you piece of condescending shit!

we wanted the sane people of both sides to take over and work together! we were hoping to use the near municipal elections to get people who support cooperative living in to the city councils so we can change stuff for the better and fight the anti peace movements of both sides! and maybe gain enough power so in the next parliamentarian elections we will get some decent people that would kickstart the peace process and support palestinian communities into the cabinet! do you know how hard we worked to support Israeli-Palestinian lists for the municipal races? how much effort is put by people to try and make things better?

so i'm gonna ask you again, what was Israel supposed to fucking do?

and If you say "to stop existing" I want you to know that you just exposed yourself as a supporter of genocide.

#israel #jumblr #ישראבלר #palestine #ישראל #antisemitism #I do not support all of isral's actions #but sometimes you have to understand why those choices are made #i am so tired #some of you are just...#stupid #tw war #tw war crimes #refugees #tw genocide #8/10/2023 #steal swords #2023 war

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clarks-letterman · 11 months

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jump in the line | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — i know i said this was coming ‘soon’ but it was longer than anticipated- reader is AMAB but i don’t believe pronouns are used to address them

words — 5.4k

summary — With summer break in motion, the school feels empty and painfully boring. Luckily, there is a jock in the gym with a good distraction from the boredom.

warnings — smut, 18+ as usual, fingering, top!Wally Clark, bottom!reader, anal sex, ghosts wrapping before tapping

~~~

Wally had two problems—the rain and his loneliness. The rain kept everyone indoors as they didn’t want to come back inside, soaked and inconvenienced by the limited appealing clothing around the school. So a day was made out of it to give everyone a new challenge: find something fun to do inside. The limit was the sky, if you counted that as being the fiberglass tiles on the ceiling. His loneliness came from what he decided to do: shoot hoops in the gymnasium. The other spirits bided their time with more sedentary activities like watching the summer production crew work to cobble together a half-decent school musical for the fall or revisit the library to read the one new book added to the ancient collection, but Wally just couldn’t keep himself still and isolated himself to shoot baskets.

Today was your first rainy day at Split River High in your new life as a ghost. Only a mere seventeen days in and you already felt perfectly capable of being a ghost for the rest of your death because of one fun sentiment—being bored at high school, something that came naturally in a place like this. Charlie claimed that it was better than feeling regretful or upset about it since those feelings only reinforced the fact that you were bound to your roots forever. There was no way to put the school in the past or leave home, no risks to take or life to fail at pursuing. He talked you through the whole spiel, and you had no choice but to listen or fight against the laws of the afterlife. One seemed impossible.

After sitting through everything he had gathered from his time as a ghost, you told him your story. You died in the agricultural room, checking up on the baby chicks during a free period between classes when the wire powering their heat lamp caught fire. The door became blocked by the flames and the windows in the room only opened so far enough to get the chicks out, but they were far too slim of an opening to fit yourself through. It worked well to air out the smoke, but the heat is what caused you to collapse. You never saw your body in the aftermath, only hearing talk of how gruesome it looked as a few cops assessed the scene.

With the Ag-Room shut down until further notice, you were left to wander the hallways without any direction. Though, one sound rang in your ear—the sound of a basketball and squeaking shoes. Now Wally had three problems when he heard the door to the gymnasium open.

As you entered, you looked around at a place you hadn’t seen since before you died. The bleachers stayed inanimate and lacked the community’s spirit for that final game of the season, not being used by anything alive to warrant them looking less depressingly empty. It looked like the same gym you had taken classes in for the past nearly four years, but the jock made it feel new and different. He was a hidden detail among the same people, chalkboards, and desks you spent your entire school life staring at. You approached him, watching the gymnasium become a chamber for his skill to bounce off of. Every time the basketball struck the floor he added just a little more to his established skill set.

“Hey,” you spoke. He caught the ball as it bounced off of the backboard and towards him. The echo in the spacious room sounded the same, but his voice was in your ear.

“Hey, I was practicing my free-throw, but I’ll make room for another person,” he offered. He turned to face you, “And you’re the Fire-Kid, right?”

“Guilty,” you admitted. “I didn’t know I had a nick-name already.”

“It’s unofficial, we can totally change it. There’s a few I thought about—hottie, maybe? Actually, never—never mind. That made more sense when I was thinking it over.” He took a deep breath and extended his hand that wasn’t holding the ball. “Wally.”

“I know,” you said, taking him up on the handshake and giving him your name. His combination of impossibly short athletic shorts, a tank top with the same material as a sweatshirt, and Nike’s paired with socks reaching far up along his shins was almost a dead giveaway that he was from another time, but the name didn’t help much either as you knew it from the stadium outside. Wally pulled his hand back and moved the ball around in his hands like it was an extension of himself—he knew exactly how to hold and manipulate it for his own desire.

“You like animals, huh? Well, I know a little game called ‘horse,’ unless you’re too chicken,” he smirked.

You two approached one of the nets hanging at one end of the gym, “It’s not like I’m doing anything, just remind me of the rules?”

“Okay, so basically, one person shoots from wherever they want, and the other person has to replicate it. If the first person misses the shot, then the second guy can shoot wherever they want. Then, it flips until one person wins.”

“How do you win?”

“Shit, right. If you miss a shot, whether you're the first or second person, you get a letter, usually it goes until it spells out ‘horse.’”

“Okay, I think I get it,” you affirmed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’ll teach you as we go.”

It all made sense, given that your last gym class was only months ago at the end of the semester and you had played it then. There was one, and only one, thing that burned in your mind: “What about the loser? Is a letter the only penalty?”

“Let’s make it a little fun,” Wally proposed. You nodded. “Okay, so, every letter earned means the other dude gets to ask a question. It’ll help me come up with a better nick-name, so, the more embarrassing stories you share, the better. I’ll go first.”

“That’s unfair, I’m new to this and pretty much everything else.”

“You’re just mad that I won’t miss,” Wally dribbled the ball as he went some ways away from the net, a distance that you knew you couldn’t match.

“Wally,” you hissed. He kept backing away from the net. “Wally, that’s too far!”

“Nah, I’m just kidding.” He ran up closer to the net and made a shot. As expected by his almost professional and clean form, it sank past the net and smacked against the floor. He retrieved it and passed the ball to you, “Your turn.”

Taking the ball from him, you stood in the same spot he was at—at about the two-point line, judging by the markings on the floor—and hit the ball a few times against the floor to refresh yourself with its feel. The bumps on the ball felt the same as when you had a basketball unit and had acquainted your fingertips with the same rough edge for a whole week. Wasting no more time, you took a leap of faith into the air. Expectedly, the ball hit the rim of the net and bounced off toward Wally. That’s just how your luck had been recently, so you weren’t phased by almost making it in. He caught the ball as it ricocheted toward him.

He clapped at your failure, “And that’s H. Four more to go and I win.”

“Five more to go, and I win.”

“Okay, I like your optimism. But question-time! What did you do… after school?“ It sounded weird for him to talk about it in the past, since only seventeen days ago you would have been talking about future plans.

“The usual: sleep, a lot, and bury myself in homework,” you said as if you would be able to do either again. Could ghosts even sleep? Or was it all feigned for a twinge of normalcy? You would have to ask Wally if you managed to score anything against him.

He still had the ball in his hands, tossing it to you. “Cool, cool. What subject was your favorite?”

“Hey, one question only,” you reminded him.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours? Sorry, I meant—you know. Since I doubt we can go to the ag-room, and because I didn’t mean—yeah.” He looked nervous at his slip-up. It felt like he was overcompensating to hide something else, something with a little more weight than simply a poor choice of words.

“It’s fine,” you assured. Passing the ball to each hand as the conversation went on, your mind wandered until it came up with the most obvious choice. “Let me guess, gym?”

“Nah, history. But I liked all of them,” Wally crossed his arms now that the ball was no longer in his possession.

“Really? You weren’t laser-focused on football?”

He patted your shoulder, “Save that for when you make it in.”

As it would turn out, you did not make a single attempted shot for the next two turns and had to suffer through two more of Wally’s questions. The first time you missed, he asked: “What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s tough. I think I’m gonna say all of the above. Anything that isn’t cafeteria food sounds great right about now. What about you? Got any I-could-live-off-this-forever go-to?”

“Hotdogs, for sure.”

“Why?” This was the first time he didn’t protest a follow-up question and gave you a completely serious answer.

“Uh, well, me and my parents used to go up to my uncle’s apartment near the Camp Randall Stadium. The building was so tall that you didn’t even need seats to watch the game, so we would all sit up on the roof and look down into the stadium whenever the Badgers were playing. They usually had a grill set up so we didn’t have to walk down so many stairs, and that’s where it started.”

“What? Your love for football?”

Wally’s tone leveled out. He wasn’t telling a story anymore, he was recalling a memory, “No, it wasn’t about the field or the game, it was about the people around me. I didn’t really like watching the game, but it was something for us to do as a family. Plus the hotdogs were pretty great.”

After that, Wally seemed to be distracted by something but still managed to make another shot. You, however, couldn’t say the same. It pitifully bounced off the backboard and towards the stacked bleachers.

He snarkily asked while heading to retrieve the ball, “What do you think your chances are of winning?”

This time, you were the one to cross your arms, “That’s what you’re going to waste your question on?”

“I still have two more,” he stated. On his way towards you, he ran a hand through his hair, “We could always play pig, if you’re ready to see the hog.”

“Go for it, unleash the beast,” you encouraged and then, feigned, “I’m so scared.”

“You would’ve lost that one already, so maybe it’s good that we didn’t.”

After accruing three letters in a row without ending Wally’s streak, you finally made a shot from his determined distance. He gained a letter to his name, and you got a ticket to pick at his brain.

“Yeah, finally!” He cheered, coming up behind you and lightly smacking your ass. He sounded sincere, “Good job.”

“I got a good one!”

“Shoot.”

“What do you miss most from your house? If you had to pick anything for them to bring here so that you could use it, what would it be?”

“My homemade fleshlight and maybe my porno mags,” he vacillated. “I got all the quality material right here, though.”

“I’m serious!” You reacted before you could even process his comment. Even if he really thought of you like that, it would have had to be a joke.

“Fine, uh. My medals for all of this stupid shit.” He waved his one arm around to the various sports banners with the graduating classes' athletes front and center, along with several other banners and pennants hanging around that showcased the victories of the Devils and Bandits. Besides his name on the stadium, Wally’s name had been embroidered in a deep blue pennant hanging on the wall he stood facing away from. “It would make it feel like it was worth it a little more, you know?”

You sighed and looked at him with a certain understanding that some of the other students didn’t get. He could see it, and you could see him listening intently as you spoke as if he truly cared, “I do. I have a few F-F-A related things at home that I wish I could see now. My medals, my jacket for being in the after-school club, pictures of me and my friends, all of it. I wish it was here.”

“You can always borrow mine. Think of it as the honorary symbol for being stuck here with me and all of the others.” At that moment, an image popped into Wally’s mind that he could have captured in crystal-clear quality with a Polaroid. If only he had brought that to school on his last day. It was of you, with his jacket on and nothing else, grinding up against his leg—maybe rocking back and forth on the toe of his Nike’s or better yet, on his thigh. He would take that picture without hesitation and make it your first official memory at Split River. Now, his fourth problem had arrived in his blue shorts.

“Thanks.” You saw his eyes flick up from the ground to you. The effect of his gratitude lasted mere seconds as the ball came your way and vie sensations of winning reminded you as to who the jock was: your competitor. By some stroke of luck—or maybe a twinge of skill had finally come over you—you were able to make the ball into the basket twice and upstage the jock for a few moments. You got to ask your questions, but he was too busy congratulating you.

“Holy shit,” he marveled. “I know they said you went out hot, but damn! I didn’t think you had that fire in you!”

“Good to know I’m more than detritus.” You tried not to brag or even smile at the fact, just accept that you had him beat with a tied competition.

“Sorry, bad joke?”

“No, I just realized that we both have two letters left.”

“It won’t be that way for long.” Plopping himself onto the floor, he sat with the ball in his lap and his legs crossed to keep it from rolling away. “Quiz me!”

Mirroring him, you sat in the same style with your knees almost touching, “Okay, ever date anyone in high school—uh, here?”

“Nope, but it did allow me and my right hand to get to know each other pretty well. We even introduced lotion later on into the relationship.”

You let out a quick laugh, “Classy, Wally.”

“There was one chick, actually.” He didn’t look away when he said it, locking his soft brown eyes on yours.

You looked back at him, engaged, “Who?”

“That’s your fourth question.”

“Why didn’t you say it when I asked?”

He started to trace patterns over his thighs, breaking the contact your eyes held while he talked about the mysterious girl, “We never really dated or even touched each-other—it was right before the game that we even kissed.”

“Oh.” Oh, it was all you could say.

“I tried to move on from her, and it kind of worked. It took a while, but you’re here.” Wally looked back up again, lifting his whole head to do so.

You stood, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Right, sorry. Too T-M-I?” He tossed the ball up to you. You shook your head and walked over to take your shot.

Standing a decent distance away from the net, you tried to make it attainable for you to make a shot, and a little difficult for the athlete to replicate it. Since your skill was unmatched by his, it didn’t seem like there was a good place that would be hard for him to make it in.

Wally followed and pressed himself into you from behind, and went so far as to make himself level with your ear, “Don’t miss.”

He backed away from you to offer a fighting chance against him, and you took your final shot of the game. The ball veered off to the right with your throw, and he ran to intercept the shot before it hit the ground. He sweeps it up from the floor and jumps in the air to pass it under his leg and make a shot around the basket. It swished effortlessly into the net, and Wally let the victory get to his head.

“And in the match point. . . Clark makes the score!” He jumped around the court with sanguine behavior, everything else—mostly, his necklace—following with him up and down. The ball bounced off to some corner of the room since he didn’t bother to fetch it. “That tie had me worried.”

You approached him once he started to calm down, “Question?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna give it to me?”

“I can, if you want,” he smirked.

“I do.”

“Uh, well.” He placed his hands on his hips, raising one almost immediately after to toy with and twist his necklace, “What’s something you’ve never tried before?”

“I never tried you.” What does he taste like? What does he smell like? “Or sex as a ghost.” What does he feel like? “Or any kind of sex in general.”

“Me neither.” Those two short words filled the small space between your lips. There was still a longing inside of Wally that competition couldn’t beat, as even now, he felt almost no difference towards it. He pulled you in for a kiss, and suddenly, it was gone. He had the confidence—the will—to lead you up to the heightened set of wooden bleachers. Wally guided you by hand, the texture still being rough and imperfect from his blazing glory night, and insisted that you close your eyes.

“I’ve been up here a million times, there’s no need for the show,” you protested.

He sat you down on a random line of benches and continued his antics, ignoring your complaints since he didn’t have anything smart to say back. The wooden planks creating the jagged pattern to form the bleachers were hard and unforgiving with little leeway for a task as delicately chaotic as fucking. Wally somehow made the imperfections surrounding your work, by keeping you spread across one bench while laying on your back. His necklace dangled so close to you that it almost turned to sandalwood oil from the heat. He smelled similarly of the same scent, rich in a tangled aromatic scent of sweat and sweet sandalwood.

All of the new things he got to try were a silver lining along the dark clouds outside. His hands roamed unclaimed places on your body, cupping things that deserved to be fondled and handling things with extra care that didn’t excite your body as much as you expected. Chills from his work never came, and you remained the same cold soul as before. The same could be said for his lip prints, marking your own pair, then moving to the side of your cheek and down your jaw with a softness only seen in the blurry images of a fantasy. Wally kissed like he was kissing for someone else, and not for himself, giving more than he took. He didn’t take skin between his teeth for a hickey but left it impacted with a feeling soaring straight up from his heart. It’s not like a hickey would have lasted long as a ghost, anyways.

“You’re cold,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your neck again.

Wally finished kissing your body seconds later and sat up at the foot-end of where you laid. You tried to spread your legs, letting one dangle off to the next row and bringing the other one closer to give him room between you, but he kept himself situated. He fished for something in the pocket of his insanely small athletic shorts, finding it hard to search through bunched-up fabric that exposed most of his thighs.

You waited for instructions, and as if he could immediately tell, Wally spoke. “Just. . . lay back and finger yourself.”

“Is mind-reading part of the ghost-experience?” You teased.

“Just do it.”

“Okay,” you listen, pulling down the bottoms you died in and the underwear that went with it. Wally tried not to steal a glance as he occupied himself, but couldn’t help it. His jaw goes slack for a moment as he sees you—natural and perfect. He assumed that he would have to put himself on the same playing field, and suspended his search for a little bit to stand up. He shimmied down the deep blue and vibrant white of the school colors to just reveal a combination of pasty skin and dark hair surrounding his cock. He reached down to continue his search. Finally, he pulled a condom from his pocket. “I’m going to try putting this on, if it fits.”

“Where did you even get those?” You hadn’t started preparing yourself for the dead jock, letting his interesting train of thought make you invested in his issues.

“Nurse’s office.” He holds out the packaging for you to look over—it’s a neon purple with different shapes in yellow, reminiscent of the eighties and perfect for the man before you. The size on the wrapper read that it was a bland XL on the cover in white. ”Can you believe they didn’t start handing these out until the nineties?”

Wally stuck the corner between his teeth and pulled, causing the wrapper to tear in two and the condom landed in his hand. He pinched the stuck-out tip of the latex in the center of the disk and pinched the rubber ring. The head of his cock passed the loop successfully but failed to actually get it down his length. In an attempt to make it slide down his cock, he tugged on the rubber band around the opening.

“That’s not how you—here.” You sat upright and your hands fly down to help him. Taking him into your hand, you hold him near the base and wrap your thumb and index finger around a part of his head over the condom’s band. Keeping your fingers around his girth, you slid them down, jerked them back up, and repeated the motion until a thin layer of latex covered most of his dick, reaching just shy of his base. “You keep rolling it down like that until it gets to the bottom. It should be tight with a little bit of give so you can slip it off after.”

Wally wraps his hand around the new layer of latex and marvels at the feeling. “Thanks for the sex-ed lesson, coach.”

“Didn’t they ever teach you that?” You asked, reflecting back on how even now, the school never really prioritized giving kids safe sex lessons. Most of the lessons were about getting any diseases, and what to do when you know you have it. It was all focused on the if’s and never the when’s.

“Nah, it was basically ‘don’t have sex or die.’ Glad I got to do the second one first and the first one now,” he smiled.

His explanation left you puzzled. Safe sex was such a priority during life but became meaningless after death. “Why even bother wearing a condom?”

“I don’t know. Why do we still eat?” He leaned in closer to you, hesitant to loudly state the actions taking place, “Why are we about to. . .”

Normalcy, that must have been what he was trying to get at. “Fair point.”

“I guess I should return the favor?” His hand finds your shoulder at a higher level than preferred and pushed it back until you are entirely laid into the unforgiving benches. They don’t quite capture your width, your shoulders peeking over the edges with legs spread out and dangling over either side, but Wally doesn’t let it stop him from motioning closer to you. Thigh cupped, he lifts a single leg to access your hole easier.

The width of his hand not holding your thigh is felt running along your crack, something that had him hooked as he searched for an opening. His longest finger found it in seconds, and quickly, he lowered the hand wrapped around your thigh to claw at your cheek, tearing it to the side for a deeper presence. Wally sunk a three-pointer’s worth of his finger into your hole, his middle finger up to his knuckle as the rest of his hand held him back. His finger beckoned a moan by raking it up and towards your prostate, then by pulling it in and out and twisting his whole arm to feel the game-night roughened texture of his finger carry on a longing from the night he died. Wally followed the string of motions a few more times until your reactions faded.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, looking for a satisfied answer.

“First time trying it, should. . .” You exhale, “. . . should it feel like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, just do it again.”

Wally pushed his lengthy digit back in, raising it to the sensitive area, and pressing the pad of his finger to it. He kept it there for a few moments before pulling his hand away, taking his finger with it, and motioning back in less than a second later. His thumb brushes over the valley between your cheeks periodically, and you can’t help but shudder at his touch.

“Are you. . . ready?” The pause his question took made him come off as unsure, and the look he gave you—a quick glance from your eyes back to your ass, where he continued his maneuvers—reinforced it. He thought that he may have done too much, or not done enough, or even found himself on a mediocre middle ground, painfully stuck between the end zones of backing out and finishing the job. To his surprise, he managed to run the one-hundred and twenty yards, because you said yes.

Almost immediately, two hands wrapped around your ankles, and raised your legs with them, exposing your ass without the need for his help. Eventually, they found themselves dangling over his shoulders instead of either side of the bench, and he occupied the space that they restricted him from.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the protective latex coating around his tip greeted you with the feeling of a smooth, somewhat slick surface. Further up, he caught a glimpse of your hesitant demeanor. You couldn’t lie to yourself, or try to hide and play pretend. In the years when he could age, he was given some stunning accolades in categories other than sports. On the surface, a winning smile and eyes that cast a special spotlight on anyone lucky enough to find themselves under him, and down below, a horse cock. Tamed for the moment, but waiting for the paddock to open.

“Just try, uh, try to take it all.” He winced at his own words and let a sarcastic “sorry” slip from his lips.

A sudden pain rapidly stemmed from his entry—one from the depths of your subconscious knowing that the feeling is new and likely dangerously addictive, and the other coming from the actual source as his size stretches you out much more than a finger’s width. His skin is rough on yours when he settled in, but there was one thing that surprised you as he bottoms out with little left to give. With his hips pressed against yours, you took a sharp breath in.

“You good?” He asked, drawing his touch back. Wally fights to place a hand on you, keeping them hovered over your figure for a sense of distanced reassurance.

“You’re cold,” you spat out.

“I’m used to hearing the opposite.”

“And you’re big.” It came out sounding like a single word.

Wally looked relieved, using the opportunity to get into the rhythm of making jokes, “Yeah, I’m used to hearing that.”

You try to laugh through some of the pain. “No you’re not.”

“I’m not,” he admitted with a stupid smile on his face. His voice was hoarse once his hands started to creep over you.

His hands held on to your figure, those words of his distracting you from the pain of his first movement. Just as his charm had worked its way back into the atmosphere surrounding you, his desire to fuck had also found its way in. And that’s exactly what he did. His stance stayed relatively the same—Nike blazers stuck in place and used them to pivot forward, thrusting himself more into you than he already was. His hips melded to supple ass-fat. As he slipped into a tempo with swaying hips, he heard the smacking that came from the quick collision of your ass and him. It sounded like the percussion beat supporting the ensemble of moans falling from his mouth.

Wally’s motions caused you to rock back and forth along the bench, shifting on the smooth plank. His routine shortens to quick plap, plap, plaps against you, unlike the longer blows he had given you moments prior. His breathing stepped up into larger huffs and draws of breath that pierced the air.

There was one thing you noticed about Wally while the room was only filled with those noises. He acts like he’s almost at a loss for words—unusually quiet when the notions of sex finally kick in, feelings and all. Wally’s communication during it centered around noises and acts over his verbal personality. He grunts and barely speaks, crying words and praises with abandon midway through. He took a hand from your love handles to run it through his hair, and then it fell on your leg. His hand was warm—almost slick—from the heat building around the both of you.

Your gaze floated from his hand falling on the leg going over his shoulder to his face; he looked like he was breaking a sweat. He noticed you looking at him directly, and his soft eyes looked animalistic as he doubled over you. He brought your legs closer to your chest, curling you in on yourself. He got so close that you could feel his breath ruminating against your skin.

“Am I—” he breathes, “—still cold?”

His breath isn’t and his skin almost looked like it was glowing, like he could be alive. You shake your head in response, the bundles and knots of pleasure in your stomach making it hard for a few words to come out.

With his new leverage, he fucked you harder, pressing as deep as he could go. His face contorted and stretched without the worry of wrinkles when he became overcome with pleasure.

Wally came, pressing himself into you one final time as his release sprayed all over the inside of his condom. Drops of release splatter over your torso in brief, irregular spurts. They seem to disappear seconds later, leaving no trace of anything that had happened. When Wally pulled himself out of you, you could feel the friction and intimacy quickly vanish. His dick still looked hard, but there was no aftermath. No trace of anything that had happened. His condom wasn’t filled or stretched out at the tip with a pool of come; it was as if he never fucked you. But you still retained the memory and the experience.

Even your own fatigue from being on the receiving end of his pounding lasted mere minutes. Still, you leaned your head back and turned to peer around the gym, taking a breather. The balls hanging around in nooks and corners of the room returned to the carts that they had never left, and everything was back in its original place on the unaltered, metaphysical level. The other spirits could never know, and they would never know, thanks to the universe's ways.

Wally took note of you looking around the gym, “You know, I think that next time, we should be a lot messier. Wouldn’t be our problem to clean, would it?”

#school spirits #wally clark x you #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark x male reader #milo manheim #milo manheim x male reader #can milo manheim get some recognition puh lease #school spirits x reader #school spirits x male reader #gay #fanfic #x male reader #x reader

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sandumilfshou · 4 months

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still kind of insane to me that people talk shit about jiang cheng without fully understanding what he has been through so lets just understand what his mental state is like BEFORE canon begins:

born via a dysfunctional marriage to be the sect heir

father doesnt care for him, mother expects too much from him/everything he does is not enough

has his three dogs just kicked out randomly with no notice because of some kid he's never heard of by the father who never gave him love and/or attention

said father then favours this kid more than him, to the point that the entire world basically thinks that this kid is biologically your father's son as well, which causes even more family dysfunction

despite this still learns to love this kid as his unofficial brother

works his absolute hardest but is always second-best because his new shixiong is naturally talented

nobody appreciates the hard work he puts in at being second place despite the fact wwx literally doesnt work hard for it

masks his emotions with anger as a coping mechanism to minimise the amount of hurt he feels

ok great so now lets actually take all of the above and apply this mental wellbeing to canon events FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE (keep in mind this is literally what jc is seeing/experiencing because he DOESNT KNOW what the reader knows):

brother is off being the protagonist and getting in trouble and gets their sisters marriage ruined

comes home from a year away and then almost immediately has to go and be a hostage where brother continues his protagonist behaviour

gets trapped and nearly dies in a cave with a 400-year-old monster, is in charge of finding a way out and making sure everyone else escapes

brother and a guy who maybe hates him get stuck behind in the cave so now jiang cheng has to boost it home ON FOOT, without food, to get manpower to rescue them, which takes a minimum of a few days likely without any food or sleep

no appreciation or thanks for doing that since brother was more heroic and killed the 400-year-old monster

gets scolded by his father for being annoyed by this

parents immediately get into another fight about father loving wwx more than jc

because of the above shenanigans their sect is targeted next

tries to defend brother against being whipped to death and/or having his hand cut off by mother

witnesses his entire sect being burned and murdered

loses both his parents

decides to sacrifice himself to save his brother's life, instead of dying he is tortured and has his golden core melted

on top of his inferiority issues, the ONE THING he was expected to do was be the sect leader for the yunmeng jiang. the sect that no longer exists. he is now a sect leader with no sect and no golden core. no shit he wants to mcfuckin die

miraculously gets a new golden core but loses his brother

immediately plunged into a war and he's only like 17

spends 3 months trying to find his brother only for his brother to show up doing the Forbidden Magic and necromancy which is Super Disrespectful in their culture like holy shit what are you doing

brother refuses to use his sword in favour of the Forbidden Magics and kind of keeps undermining jc's orders as sect leader which makes jc look weak in front of all the other sect leaders when he's actively trying to rebuild their sect and be respected as a leader

fights a war for [handwaves] an amount of time, certainly a few years minimum, while watching his brother descend further into Unhealthy Behaviour but brother refuses to do anything or talk about it

ends up lowkey being a war hero

the other three great sects (of which there are now only four) swear brotherhood, leaving out ONLY ymj/jiang cheng, which, what the Fuck dude

is now a teenager who has lost his parents who now has to rebuild his sect from scratch with fuck all money, supplies, and support

brother, who promised to always be at his side helping, is not helping, and in fact is actively just getting drunk and being a nuisance and STILL REFUSING TO SAY WHY

entire cultivation world starts to turn on his brother who is now looking like a loose cannon bc he has Forbidden Magics that are Terrifyingly Powerful and also it has been proven that he does not give a fuck about jc's opinion since he's constantly doing whatever the fuck he wants

literally out of nowhere said brother decides to piss off everyone, start fights, and then KILL JIN GUARDS at a camp and MAKE OFF with like fifty people who are part of the family that he just fought a war against and were responsible for slaughtering his family/sect

go to the terrifying haunted mountain where wwx and the wen remnants are and sees that he's essentially starting a new family with a kid and crops, doesn't seem to care that jiang cheng is still trying to keep the ymj afloat and look like they have any strength

brother is still doing Forbidden Magic and refuses to explain why, and now says he'll secede from the ymj so his bad reputation doesn't reflect on jc like he HASNT BEEN DOING THAT THE WHOLE TIME

so now shixiong wants to just abandon jc completely after jc has lost his parents, had to rebuild everything from scratch, while ignoring the promise he's made their whole life? ok fuck you

jc also can't defend him in public because that would turn the ymj into a target and please keep in mind he is a teenager who was expected to do this ONE THING by his parents and he has poured his heart and soul and blood and tears into rebuilding the ymj and they are So Vulnerable Right Now

uhhh what the fuck suddenly wwx kills their sister's husband ?? bro what the FUCK?

everyone rallies to go and attack wwx for this and again jc literally cant do anything about it and refusing to go will just make everyone assume he's on wwx's side and their sect can't afford to be attacked rn

bro what the fuck now THEIR SISTER IS DEAD?????

oh even better now said brother is DEAD

jiang cheng literally has NO ONE LEFT. no friends. no family. no parents, no siblings, everyone he knew growing up is dead. its literally just him and his infant nephew, who by the way, is living with the sect who are the most powerful and also most likely to be super fucking shady so jc has to tread very carefully

so jc spends over a decade raising his nephew ALONE while trying to make ymj powerful and also hunting/killing demonic cultivators that now p much only exist bc his brother invented/popularised the technique

oh yeah and also this whole time the guy who maybe hated his brother is now like EVEN colder and more antagonistic towards jc like it was HIS FAULT that wwx is dead? get fucked lan wangji you didnt even like the guy (or if this is cql/untamed canon: you literally did nothing either so where do you get off on acting like you're better than jc)

over a decade passes and suddenly his dead brother is alive again and causing more problems and acting like the things he did were not major contributors towards jc's entire family and sect dying

More Political Drama Happens and jc has to manage it

suddenly its revealed that the guy he's been co-raising his nephew with is the major villain who caused the entire world to turn on wwx in the first place oh and also it turns out that the fucking miraculous core jc has IS HIS BROTHER'S, WHO NEVER SAID ANYTHING, AND THIS IS THE REASON HE STARTED THE FORBIDDEN MAGICS AND STOPPED HELPING AROUND THE SECT, but he didnt even BOTHER to tell jiang cheng about it

by the way did i mention this was done via an entirely unconsented experimental surgery

and now the brother of the doctor who did the unconsented experimental surgery is ?? mad at jiang cheng about it ???? like he was supposed to KNOW ABOUT THIS when wwx was KEEPING IT FROM HIM ON PURPOSE???

and now theyre all nearly dying in this dumbass temple - and the ONE family member jc still has is literally being threatened with a garotte

oh cool now jc's brother is saying forget the past let's just leave it all behind !!! as though THAT ISNT JC'S ENTIRE LIFE AND TRAUMA and the ONE THING he EVER wanted was for him, wwx, and jyl to be alive and happy, and now wwx is saying just forget it! like FUCK YOU???? does jc truly mean NOTHING???????

oh and now his brother is off gallivanting with the guy who hated him - who it turns out doesn't hate him - and now they're getting married

and jiang cheng is meant to just. pretend all of this never happened and live his life normally. while wwx is out there. being happy and married.

like... if you can read all of this and still treat jc like he's the bad guy, i'm sorry, but you have literally zero empathy. dude had it probably more rough than any of the other main ensemble cast, and i am including jgy in that, because jgy Made His Choices. jc literally just had to let things happen around him helplessly

#did i make this bc ive had a bunch of jc antis in my mentions? yes #jiang cheng is beautiful and flawed and i love him so fucking much #he is my lil meow meow my gorgeous wife and hes so so so strong #i wouldnt have even gotten through half this shit before i'd kms lmao #jiang cheng #mdzs #cql #the untamed #jiang cheng antis do not interact #seriously you will not convince me otherwise and i will just block you. do not waste your time on me #this includes you mfs who were in my reblogs recently. you know who you are.#jiang cheng defense squad #jiang wanyin #sandu shengshou #mdzs meta #cql meta #also i call wwx his brother in this bc lbr that is the role he played even if he was always shixiong instead of gege #but also i am a chengxian/xiancheng shipper #so looking at this through shipper goggles is somehow MORE painful

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gatitties · 1 year

Text

Rumors

─ Tenjiku x fem!reader

─ Summary: certain rumors about a powerful girl lead Tenjiku to you

─ Warnings: description of unpleasant ways to die

Part two / Part three / Part four

"I'm telling you again, you have the wrong person…"

You murmured to some boys that had cornered you before you could leave through the great doors of your high school, the head of that small group looked at you, fed up with you denying being who people said.

"Don't be stupid! There is no one else that matches your name."

You groaned in disgust when you noticed his growing anger, you didn't want to waste your valuable free time, you frowned making the hardest look you could, your dark circles dimmed your eyes and you gave one last blank look at the 'leader' of the group. The atmosphere around you intensified, as if it were suffocating, as if you were capable of breaking the necks of these five guys with one move.

The legs of the teenagers began to shake from the personality change, your sinister face and your iron gaze were enough to scare them away, although they said they would come back to kick your ass, you and your so-called gang.

"My God, what's up lately with all the jerks looking for a fight?"

You really didn't understand shit, as far as you knew, this last month there were several groups of people asking about you, they wanted to fight you because apparently you had a powerful gang and your name started to spread like wildfire, you heard nonsense like you had defeated a group of twenty men without ruffling your hair, even while filing your nails.

You? fighting? Do you even want to socialize a bit? If beating people up counts as socializing of course, you had nothing to do with those things anyway, the only struggles you had were with your math problems and if that subject was a person it would have kicked your ass not vice versa.

You had to ask a few people from your class, some who were more or less trustworthy and not swayed by those rumors, yes, rumors about you, not that you paid much attention to them but man, painting you as something inhuman that would be able to dismounting people twice your size with one punch was a bit over the top, wasn't it?

It's not that you looked cute or flirty, that was the main cause of the rumors starting, okay you admit it, you don't have the best fashion sense and maybe you dress a little darker than the others, maybe what sparked the rumors was your impassive demeanor, and your shitty face, because you didn't like to get up early, who does anyway? You just get to class and everyone is greeting each other with smiles on a Monday at seven in the morning, shut the fuck up, you want to sleep.

Looking back, yeah, maybe it was a bit because of your behavior, another reason that you thought would be of weight was your honesty, harsh honesty, you didn't like to beat around the bush and you went straight to the point of the issues, maybe that made your classmates see you as intimidating, geez, if they knew you cry over strangers' stories on the internet every time you open Twitter… Maybe some people were even intimidated by your height? Not that you were a building, but considering the average height of the girls, you were a bit above that.

The truth is that you had to agree with some of the rumors, you are creepy as fuck, not only sometimes because of your disheveled appearance, but also because of some of your comments, you could make very accurate descriptions of painful or disturbing deaths if is that the situation made you think of ways to die doing something everyday. Well, it's not your fault that you're a fan of crime shows, serial killers, etc.

"I hope we're not wasting time with this."

"Calm down Shion, it's not like we have anything to do, we're all here for a reason."

Izana commented as he looked at the others, Tenjiku had gathered because Kisaki had been hearing those rumors, your rumors, they were looking for strong people and if you had what they were looking for you were definitely joining the group.

"Whatever, he could have at least brought his pathetic ass here too…"

"Nu-uh, I needed Sanzu, Mucho and him to do something for me, anyway, I think we're here now."

You were half asleep at recess, getting some rest from another night of tossing and turning, otome games were messing with your sleep schedule. You almost fell asleep if not for a slight jolt, you groaned but opened your eyes finding yourself face to face with lavender eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul, your mind assimilated everything quickly when you saw how they were dressed together, also noticing the others behind of the boy.

They didn't even ask for your name when you put your hands to your head, letting out a cry of despair because you already knew what they had come for.

“I swear to god, I don't have a gang and I can't take down twenty men with one punch."

"Well, most people don't think the same as you."

Ran spoke, balancing his weapon against his palm, smiling sadistically at how you trembled a little. You know that intimidating feeling, when you know someone is angry and they seem like they're invincible? That same pressure the boys felt when you got up from your seat, although it was only a defense mechanism when you were scared.

"Just leave me alone, I don't want or am interested in fighting, I don't care what you think I am."

Apparently the trick of looking intimidating didn't help, the guy with a scar on his forehead that reached down to one of his eyes approached threateningly, grabbing your shirt to lift you into the air. You screamed internally from the looks you were getting from everyone, normally the idiots who came to confront you would get scared ─luckily─ and you didn't have to run away, but it was clear that these guys weren't weaklings like all the others.

Since silent intimidation didn't help, it might help to use your twisted mind, hopefully you might scare them off.

"I would like to lock you in a coffin alive, bury you three meters underground, wait for you to die slowly, gradually running out of oxygen, when your mind fades your bodies will rot, I will dig the bodies up and feed them to the Insects more disgusting than you can imagine."

"What the hell-"

Rin looked at you with a grimace seeing how you didn't blink once in your little monologue, Kakucho's grip loosened a bit, lowering you back to the ground but keeping you where you were. You started to sweat, without letting them recriminate you, you started to talk again.

"If you don't like that death, I can also sedate you, empty all your bodies, without intestines, while you slowly watch each other as you die little by little, I will do it slowly playing with your livers, making your intestines into scarves, I will burn you and I will feed you to pigs."

Kokonoi and Mochizuki looked at each other in silence with disgust clear on their faces, Kakucho had let go of you taking a step back to Izana's side. Hanma had a small crooked smile, it was his turn to approach you, patting your shoulder.

"What creepy things you say to be a scared cat."

Well, shit, your words hadn't sounded with the usual impassive enough tone or your nervousness had been detected by this damned matchstick. You shrank into your site, feeling smaller next to him, you raised your hands in defeat.

“Non-verbal and verbal intimidation don't work, okay, I give up, but I guess you know that that shit was just rumors."

Everyone was stunned at the guffaw Izana let out after that, he normally kept that serious tone when he was in a group, he usually only let that side out when he was alone with Kakucho, but oh boy, you were too much.

“Look at you, trying to intimidate us while you were all scared! You know, if you'd made it clear, we would have left, but you're so funny."

"What? If you're saying that you're a bad liar, I could see how you wanted to beat me up."

"Oh of course not, I would never hit a girl-"

"Yes, you should break a leg for lying so bad."

You gave your typical blank face, much more relaxed than before, but still a bit uncomfortable with all the attention you were getting, not to mention someone still with their arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, matchstick, personal space."

It was the turn of the Haitani brothers to laugh at the nickname you had given Hanma, he turned away with an offended look, but you didn't care, looking at the brothers, without a doubt their laughter bothered you because they were the ones that scared you the most.

"I don't know what's so funny, eh, Bert and Ernie?"

Kokonoi bit his tongue to keep from laughing, thinking that if he did, he would be the next person to be attacked by your big mouth, however Izana spoke again.

"You go from completely shaking and trying to be brave to messing with us? Every time you surprise me more."

"Nah, I'm just being honest now that I know you won't break my legs, I'm not making fun of you, I'm just objectively saying what you look like."

Now they all fell silent looking at you, feeling as if you were criticizing them with a simple look, imagining characters similar to them to make fun of.

"Wait, does that mean that you associate us all with something or someone?" you hummed affirmatively at Mochizuki's question "can we know-"

"You look like an onigiri if you put yourself completely in front."

"What about me?"

Madarame watched expectantly as you narrowed your eyes at him, analyzing his stance, oh, you definitely knew what he was.

"Gay."

"Wha- THAT'S NOT EVEN AN OBJECT OR PERSON!"

"Are you saying that gays are not people? Pretty disrespectful of you."

"IT'S NOT THE POINT!" he complained for a few minutes like Mochi for their comparison, he looked at you again, pointing to the remaining three; Koko, Izana and Kakucho "What about them? What stupid thing are they?"

"Mmh…" you rubbed your index finger and thumb on your chin, thinking deeply, looking at the three boys "They are just handsome."

"Nah, this bitch is not being serious-"

Hanma prevented the blonde from hitting you for your comparisons, despite also being insulted, the scene was quite funny for him. Ignoring the little spat everyone started to have, deciding you'd had too much human contact for today, you packed up your stuff to leave, only someone stopped you before you left.

"Take this please, let's talk later!"

You blinked at the piece of paper Izana had given you, it was his phone number, you shrugged, you liked the internet contact better anyway, you took one last look at the group before disappearing, briefly greeting Kakucho, who went with the only one you caught eyes with, completely ignoring how his cheeks had some rosy tinge.

"Someone had a crush?"

"Shut up Ran."

2K notes · View notes

moonlightsolo · 1 year

Text

nga yawne lu oer; i love you.

summary: the rda murders a tulkun and dumps it for the metkayina to find. the village turns into a frenzy, wishing to fight for their brothers and sisters lives. lo’ak runs to warn payakan, but the creature is already marked for death. you and neteyam get split up, causing you to be captured by the avatar mercenaries. neteyam comes to your rescue, but is forced to help lo’ak save spider from the soldiers…

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: graphic depiction of character death, weapons, blood, ptsd, non-descriptive implied smut :p, & quaritch.

note: pls leave feedback on this one. i put my heart n soul into it. i’m also not even listing the word count bc it’s embarrassing how long it is. (it’s 15k) yk it’s gonna be good so go read it rn

part one | part two | part three | part four

the deafening sound of a conch horn mixes in with the storm rolling over the village.

you, kiri, tuk, neteyam, and lo’ak all go silent. eyes worriedly dart to each other, staring in bewilderment as your brains ponder on what to do.

“we should go.” neteyam breaks the silence, spinning on his heel. he ducks down under the entrance to the marui and disappears around the bend. lo’ak takes no time to follow his brother, sprinting after him through the rain.

“come on. it’s okay.” you attempt to reassure the worried child. you grab tuk’s hand to walk outside with her and kiri, a few steps behind lo’ak and neteyam. your hand comes up to shield your eyes from the heavy rain falling from the ominous clouds.

as you get closer to the center of the village, the growing crowd of metkayina becomes more dense- this is not good.

“my spirit sister and her baby have been murdered by the sky people!” ronal’s voice shouts from somewhere in the center of the irate group of villagers.

you grasp tuk’s hand so tight, afraid she might get lost in the crowd. you can barely make out neteyams head as he pushes through the metkayina, “i’m scared.” the girl whines from behind you.

“it’s okay. just keep your head down, tuk.” you mumble, wincing as somebody’s sharp elbow collides with your ribs.

you finally break free from the crowd, instantly spotting jake and neytiri standing in front of ronal and tonowari. neteyam and lo’ak are already standing behind their parents, so you quietly sneak over to them with kiri ahead of you.

the chief and his wife are on an elevated surface as they speak to their village, “this war has come to us! we knew about this hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon. far away! now, it is here!” tonowari shouts, and hisses angrily as he delivers the news to his people.

“you gotta understand how the sky people think! they don’t care about the great balance!” jake tries to calm down tonowari, but it just makes it worse.

“we don’t answer to sky people!” a metkayina raspily screams from behind you, making you jump.

“listen! listen to him!” neteyam urges them.

“the sky people are not gonna stop! this is only the beginning! you gotta tell your tulkun to leave! you gotta tell them to go far away!” jake shouts as he talks with his hands.

“leave?!” ronal shrieks, “you live among us and you learn nothing!”

“we will fight to protect our brothers and sisters!” a metkayina man steps forward, slamming his fist roughly against his chest.

the people yip and screech in agreement, and grow more wild by the second; howling and slamming the bottom of their weapons against the ground.

“no, no! if you attack, if you fight, then they will destroy you. it would destroy everything that you love!” jake yells.

your eyes dart around nervously at everyone, heart pumping wildly against your ribs.

the metkayina cry out as they stomp and grow even more furious. “hear my words!” jake desperately pleads the people.

“stay calm! stay calm!” neteyam tries to alleviate the chaos but it doesn’t do anything, “listen to my father! he speaks the truth!”

jake steps forward holding an orange spear-like beacon up to the crowd. the people go silent as they look at what he is holding.

“you tell the tulkun that if they’re hit by one of these they’re marked for death.” he breathes heavily, “and call for me. i’ll silence it.”

“saving their lives, that’s all that matters. right?” he looks around at the village, “saving your family.”

tonowari looks down at his wife, before taking a step up next to jake, “tell the tulkun.” he orders.

“go.” ronal urges, “go!”

lo’ak is quick to blend in with the moving crowd, which neteyam takes notice to. you hand over tuk to kiri, “i’ll be right back.” you say to them, quickly sprinting in the direction neteyam took off in.

just as you’re about to run past them, you spot the boys at the end of a dock arguing, “you gotta keep your skxawng ass here.” you overhear neteyam say to lo’ak.

“he’s outcast. there’s nobody to warn him but me!” lo’ak argues.

“bro.” neteyam sighs as he slaps his hand on top of his brothers head, “why do you always have to make things so hard?”

lo’ak pushes his hand off of him with a grunt, “no. you mean why can’t i be the perfect son like you? the perfect little soldier?”

neteyam takes a step back from him, chuckling angrily before stepping even closer to his brother- as if he is holding himself back from punching him. “i’m not you!” lo’ak shouts in his face.

you need to stop this before it gets too heated.

you run forward, out of breath as if you didn’t eavesdrop on everything that was said. just as you make it to them, lo’ak shoves neteyams arm off of his shoulder, “get off me.”

“lo’ak!” tsireya calls from the water on her ilu, coming in fast with ao’nung and rotxo.

before you know it, the youngest sully boy is diving in the water to his ilu and taking off.

“come on! he’s going to payakan.” neteyam grips your arm to pull you forward, making you stumble. his arm protectively wraps around your waist before he jumps into the water.

you suck in a sharp breath before the cool water envelopes around your bodies; one of his arms reaches back to he situate your body behind him. he grasps the reins of his ilu, and takes off in the direction of lo’aks trail.

he breaches the surface, making you gasp as the rain hits the top of your head. you can see lo’ak in the distance, “come back!” you scream out to him which just makes him go even faster.

kiri and tuk are off to the side, sat on an ilu in the water. “lo’ak!” both of them call after him.

“he’s going to find payakan!” you and neteyam yell out to them in sync.

“wait up!” kiri yells as neteyam dives back under the water to follow his brother. your arms tighten around his waist, trying your hardest to not fly off from the speed.

he chases him all the way to three brothers rocks where payakan is. the creature breaches the water as lo’ak calls his name.

the animal lets out a loud pained whine as it swims up to him. the tulkun turns in the water, revealing the same orange spear from earlier lodged into his back. this time, it’s beeping.

the younger boy jumps off of his ilu and onto his back to try and pull the machine out of its skin.

“oh shit! neteyam! they’re here!” you cry out when a huge ship appears from around one of the giant rocks.

“we need to help him.” neteyam leaps off the ilu and onto the tulkuns back, leaving you behind on its saddle. you mentally punch him for leaving you behind, but you know that all he was thinking about was getting his brother.

you take control of his ilu, wrapping your hand around the leather handle on the saddle to dive under the belly of payakan. you pull up to breach the surface on the opposite side.

your legs push up to leap off of the animal, and onto the back of the giant creature- just as tsireya, rotxo and ao’nung arrive and jump onto the creatures back.

you scurry over to help them pull the machine out, your hands attempt to grip the slippery surface of the beacon. it’s really stuck in there.

“call it in! call dad!” neteyam yells an order at his brother, who looks at neteyam as if his heart just fell out of his ass, “just go! do it!”

lo’ak scurries to stand up on the top of the animal as his hand flies to his throat to talk to jake through their comms.

even with five people pulling, there’s absolutely no budge. you let out a frustrated yell when your hands slip off of the damp surface for the hundredth time.

your eyes continue to glance behind you at the ship as you try to pull it out, “it’s getting closer!” you cry out in a panic. another harsh wave crashes against the side of the tulkuns body, sending a mist of sea water in everybody’s face.

your mind goes through every possible way you could get this thing out of it, “a rope! does anyone have a rope?!” you yell out, eyes looking over the four na’vi around you.

neteyam looks over at you, his chest heaving with exertion and terror, “a rope…” he breathes out, pausing for a moment to look around.

he makes a clicking sound with his throat, summoning his ilu back over to him. he jumps into the water to search through the packs on its side, “hurry up, bro!” lo’ak screams as he comes back from talking to their father.

neteyam unravels a long rope from inside, throwing the other end to you. it’s almost as if he read your mind when he wraps it around the ilu to utilize the animals strength to help.

you quickly snatch the thrown rope out of the air and begin wrapping it around the tracking beacon with the help of ao’nung.

“go, go, go!” the chiefs son tells neteyam, your head continues to check on the proximity of the ship. now they’ve discharged smaller boats into the water that are coming your way, “we have to hurry! they’re coming!”

neteyam gets on the back of his ilu, flapping it’s fins in the water to accelerate forward, now aiding in pulling out the beacon, “pull now!” he orders.

the four of you muster up all of your strength to try to force the beacon out of its skin, “hurry! we need to hurry!” tsireya cries out.

“pull! harder!” you whine, your hands burn from the scraping of the metal against your palms.

the beacon suddenly releases from the creatures skin, pulling the rest of you into the water along with it. payakan quickly takes off, the force pushes you even deeper into the rough ocean. you use all your might to swim up to the surface.

the first thing you see beyond the waves is neteyam swimming away with the beacon in his hand.

“no! neteyam! no!” you screech out for him as your stomach threatens to release the contents of your dinner.

you begin to panic; you can’t lose him. you attempt to swim towards him, but he’s quick to dive under the water with his ilu. there’s absolutely no way you’ll be able to catch up to him.

“come!” lo’ak grips your upper arm to pull you towards his ilu that he summoned, “he’ll be okay! come on!”

you reluctantly climb onto the back of his animal, wrapping your arms around lo’aks waist as he dives after the rest of them- now going the opposite way of neteyam. you can’t help but look back, in attempt to find him in the open water.

the boy halts underneath tall stalks of seaweed, hiding himself beneath the giant leaves as the boats pass by. you glance over at kiri and tuk hiding underneath the one beside you.

the main ship releases more boats, but ones that can now dive under the water. you tap lo’ak’s arm to get his attention, pointing at the submarines. he quickly takes off, dodging in between the sea grass to try and out run them.

they’re quick to follow, their lights bright and menancing as they chase all of you through the underwater foliage.

somehow, you and lo’ak get split up from the rest of the group. the boy quickens the pace of his ilu, causing you to tighten your grip around him and tuck your head into his back. he looks back for a moment at the ship, his panic growing from the enemies close proximity.

a second ship drops in front of you, making you scream out lo’aks name in the water. the boy sharply turns to the left to dodge the metal claws of the ship that reach out to grasp you.

lo’ak signs for you to jump off with him into the thick seaweed. your eyes go wide, but he doesn’t wait for a response from you. he launches himself off his ilu, but not without grasping your hand to bring you with him.

you grab ahold of a thick stalk of grass, using them to hurl yourself forward through the water as the ilu draws the ships away. lo’ak leads you to a grass pod with an air pocket, looking up into it to see his little sister inside.

he swims upward along with you, grabbing your hand to pull you up into the air bubble with him. “tuk!” you both shout in surprise.

before you could ask where kiri is, the ships lights grow nearer as the sound of its engines gets louder. “we have to go! it’s coming.” you shriek.

all three of you suck in a deep breath before plunging back into the water to swim in the opposite direction of them.

the ships start to surround you, giving you no other way than forward to swim away and escape. they’re too fast, you’ll never be able to out swim them.

one of the ships projectiles a net at all of you, catching only you and tuk inside of it. your limbs flail as you try to find a way out, pulling and tugging at the netted string but the material is too strong.

two ikrans dive into the water, grasping the net with their talons to hoist you and tuk out of the water. lo’aks fingers latch onto the outside as the soldiers take off into the sky towards the mother ship.

“no! let us out!” you grunt as your hands try to rip at the net. you take out the knife neteyam gave you, dragging the serrated blade over the strings.

“hold on!” lo’ak yells as he unsheathes his blade from his hip to start cutting the material, “look out! move your hand! move your hand!”

“hurry, lo’ak!” tuk whimpers in fear.

you and tuk scream as you’re dropped onto the hard pavement of the ship, now surrounded by armed avatars.

lo’ak moves away from the net, standing with his back toward you and tuk in attempt to protect you. he snarls and growls at the soldiers with his knife still in his hand, ready to attack at any second.

“drop the weapon!” “put the weapon down!” they shout at him.

the boy steps forward, attempting to stab one of the men but they easily dodge his attack and shove him to the ground. two of them pin his arms beside him as he struggles under their grasp.

“no!” you screech, seething at the aggressors. you kick and wiggle as you attempt to push the heavy net off of you and tuk.

finally, you spot an opening. “come on.” you’re the first to emerge from the net, with tuk right behind you.

both of you try to protect yourselves with your blades but the lab-made na’vi are too strong.

one of them grips the back of your neck, forcing you to the ground, while another grabs tuks wrist for her to drop her knife.

“hey! hey! what are you doing? stop!” someone shouts from behind you, “stop! don’t hurt them!”

tuk yelps from beside you as she is held hostage by a soldier, trying her hardest to wriggle out of their tight grip.

your head turns on the wet pavement, looking behind you to see spider talking to lo’ak; the human boy is being held back by two men.

you snarl at the man on top of you, his knee sitting painfully on your back to hold you down. “knock it off! stay still!” his knee presses harder into your spine, making you cry out in pain.

“you’re hurting her! stop!” spider screams out at the man on top of you.

one of the avatar men on the ikrans hops off of the animal, his heavy boots stomping on the damp ground.

“get back to the bridge.” he points at spider, ordering the soldiers beside him to bring him back inside, “and keep ‘em there!”

that man’s voice, that american twang sounds familiar. it’s the man from the forest, the one who held kiri, lo’ak, and tuk hostage- the one who stole spider; it’s quaritch.

“yeah, i remember you.” he looks down at lo’ak, who hisses in reply.

“cuff ‘em to the rail. all of ‘em.” he points.

finally, the pain is alleviated from your back as you’re forced to your feet. you don’t dare to try and wiggle out of the grip, knowing the attempt would end up with you getting hurt somehow.

“get on your knees. on ‘em.” the soldier behind you kicks the back of your legs, making them give out so you would fall to the ground. you grimace as the pavement cuts open the skin on your knees, hissing at the man behind you.

your hands are brought in front of you, and handcuffed to the rail along with tuk and lo’ak.

“fuck you!” you seethe through your teeth, your slightly sharpened canines bare wildly at the men. the soldier behind you goes to back hand you, making you cower to prepare for the blow.

quaritch takes a step toward you, with a simple raise of his hand he stops the mercenary from hitting you.

“this one’s red-hot.” he chuckles alongside his soldiers as he stares down at you with a cocky sneer.

“and where are you from?” he squats down to your level, looking over you intently. his gaze makes you uncomfortable, “you’re not blue like the rest of ‘em… yet you breathe our air.” he hums curiously.

“i’m not telling you shit.” you spit out, your voice dripping with venom.

tuk grunts beside you as she tries to pull the handcuffs off the railing. your eyes slightly glance over at her, your heart aching for her.

“half human, half na’vi.” he unsheathes his combat knife, pressing the tip of it into your chin to angle your face up towards him.

the sharp tip of the knife pricks at your skin, daring to slice into it even from the most subtle movement from you.

“let her go! don’t hurt her!” lo’ak barks out, earning a kick from a soldier next to him.

“mm, i’ve seen you. the forest right? you’re sully’s oldest sons girl, aren’t you?” the man tilts his knife to control your head as he examines you.

“like i said… i’m not. telling. you. shit!” you hiss out, trying your hardest not to move your jaw from the knife being so close to cutting into you.

he finally pulls back when the loud yipping sounds of na’vi start to grow closer, stuffing his knife back into its cover on his hip, “na’vi inbound!” a soldier yells.

your head turns toward the sound, watching them all fly in on their tsuraks. the soldiers around you ready up, aiming at them with their weapons.

the na’vi in the water halt, sitting dormant in the water as if they’re examining the people onboard.

“dad!” tuk calls out desperately.

quaritch rips off lo’aks comm device from his neck, connecting it to himself to be able to talk to his father.

“jake, tell your friends to stand down. you want your kids back, you come out alone.” he speaks to him, “you know better than to test my resolve.” he pulls a handgun from his side, cocking it and pressing the barrel against the back of lo’aks head.

“no! lo’ak!” you gasp, grunting as you pull harder on your restraints.

“i took you under my wing, jake. you betrayed me. you killed your own,” he continues, “good men. good women. i will not hesitate to execute your kid.”

you begin to weep, out of rage and fear. hot angry tears streak your salty face as you tug on the handcuffs that refuse to budge. “please.” you beg, “don’t hurt him.”

your words earn a blow from a steel-toed boot against your ribs, “shut up, stupid girl.” the air punches out of your lungs as you keel over from the pain.

“offers fixin’ to expire. what’s it gonna be?” quaritch speaks into the comm.

in the distance, you watch a single tsurak start to swim forward away from the group of na’vi soldiers. it’s jake sully, he’s coming. but if he comes up here, he will die. you cannot let any of them die.

your breathing is erratic as your brain goes into overdrive, thinking of every possible way to get out of this. to save jake, lo’ak, and tuk- not even worrying about yourself at this point.

“easy shot.” a bald avatar says, but quaritch lowers the man’s weapon with his hand, “you hit them now, they attack. wait till he’s on board.”

lo’ak growls loudly from his words, causing the gun to press harder into the back of his head.

the next moments seemingly play out in slow motion. something you would have never assumed to be a possibility.

lo’aks tulkun breaches the water, launching himself over the boat as it bellows loudly in the sky. the crew begin to scurry as payakan falls down, squashing multiple soldiers beneath its heavy body.

water splashes all over the three of you, shrieking in surprise as the entire ship rocks and groans from the blow it just took.

the crew begin to shoot at him, but payakan slides a fin across the ground to pummel them. lo’ak kicks a soldier to make him stumble forward, helping out payakan so he could slam his fin down onto the man.

the tulkuns fluke rises into the air before crushing a crane and sending a smaller ship flying.

your eyes dart towards the water, smiling wide as the metkayina and jake charge towards the boat. “they’re coming!” you yell to lo’ak and tuk.

payakan dodges an incoming explosive spear, sending it somewhere onto the ship to detonate with a loud boom. the tulkun let’s out one last deafening roar before slipping back into the water, but not without taking down a few more men.

“sully’s inbound! i want eyes on!” quaritch orders as he steps away from the three of you.

a gunship is inbound in the sky, shooting multiple rounds into the water where the fleet of na’vi soldiers are underneath.

an ikran drops out of the clouds, appearing out of no where. a banshee from the forest, it’s neytiri.

the aircraft is quickly taken down, exploding into pieces as it pummels into a bank of rocks.

you watch the fight in the water, wincing at every person the na’vi brutally take down. “we need to get out of here.” you whine, pulling on your handcuffs with all of your strength.

“come on! come on!” you cry out as your feet push against the railing, trying your hardest to free yourself.

an explosion rocks the ship as a boat flies from the water and catches an engine on fire as it revs up. the main ship that you’re on accelerates forward at a terrifying speed.

“oh shit! oh shit! hold on!” you brace yourself as it runs over a bank of rocks, catapulting it into the sky, making it catch air underneath it’s belly.

the three of you hover in the air, the handcuffs being the only thing keeping you from flying away. the ship roughly crashes into the water, sending all three of you hurling towards the ground.

“you okay?” lo’ak asks you and tuk, before busying himself to try and pull at the restraints again.

“this boat is going down, and we need to get off of it right now!” you screech in a panic, leaning forward to try and rip the handcuffs off with your teeth.

in your peripheral vision, you see someone launch themselves out of the water and land on the pavement. your mouth pulls away from the material of the handcuffs, a giant smile pulling up on your face.

“neteyam!” tuk yells in excitement.

“i have never been so relieved to see you!” you cry out in happiness.

“need some help?” he teasingly asks as he bends down and unsheathes his knife. the blade easily slices the fabric off of your wrists. you fight yourself from leaping forward to plant a big fat kiss on his perfect lips.

“shut up. come on. get us loose.” lo’ak hurries his brother as he goes down the line of people, cutting the restraints.

your wrists are sore as you pull them towards your body, but that’s the least of your worries right now.

once tuk is loose, she throws herself at you for comfort. you quickly reciprocate by wrapping your arms around her to hold her close.

“it’s okay. get tuk out of here.” neteyam says to you as he steps over to lo’ak.

“what? no! i’m not leaving you.” you protest, making him growl in annoyance and send you a sharp look.

“bro, hurry up!” lo’ak complains, shaking his wrists against the metal railing.

“just go! i’ll be right behind you!” he yells back at you, as the knife cuts through lo’aks handcuffs, “who’s the mighty warrior, huh?” you hear neteyam say to his brother. that would make you laugh if you weren’t so worried right now.

you swiftly lift tuk up, running to the edge of the boat. you’re just about to jump, but tsireya pops up at the surface on her ilu. “here! bring her to me!”

tuk unravels herself from around you to hop onto the back of tsireya’s animal. the little girl looks up at you worriedly, “it’s okay, tuk. we’ll be right behind you!”

tsireya nods and shoots you a worried smile before diving under the water. you quickly turn on your heel to see lo’ak has been freed and snagged an assault rifle from a fallen soldier.

“come on. let’s go.” just as neteyam is about to run towards you, lo’ak goes the opposite way.

“they‘ve got spider. we’ve gotta get him. come on.” lo’ak motions with his head, “come on, bro! we can’t leave him.”

neteyam grunts loudly in frustration, and slams a fist against the ground before standing to his feet. he takes a moment to acknowledge you, looking over your body. his eyes catch the bloody scuffs on your knees, and a few scratches and bruises that litter your skin.

he steps forward, hands cupping your face. “are you alright?” he asks worriedly, his hands guide your body to turn in a three-sixty. his eyes look over your back for any sign of serious injury; like father like son.

“i’m okay, i’m okay. i swear.” you breathe out, slightly in a bit of shock but otherwise you’re okay.

your hands come up to rest against his rapidly rising chest, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingertips. you look up at him, his golden eyes are already staring down at you.

“seriously, bro? this is not the time for a reunion!” lo’ak shouts with evident annoyance in his voice.

neteyam chuckles from his brothers words, leaning down to swiftly peck your lips, “go find a weapon. any weapon.” he urges you.

you smile up at him before scurrying around to try and scavenge anything from the soldiers that are scattered on the ground. you find the knife neteyam gifted you lodged under one of the dead soldiers bodies, you can’t help but feel the sharp blade with the pad of your thumb.

thank eywa, you would hate yourself for eternity if you lost it.

neteyam grabs your hand to pull you along with him and his brother through the many hallways of the boat, with lo’ak leading.

“we have to climb.” neteyam whispers in your ear as your eyes follow lo’ak. the boy easily scales the wall by holding onto pipes. neteyam goes next, “watch me.” he climbs slowly for you.

you watch the exact placement of his feet and how he grips the metal with his hands. he follows the pipes up the wall and onto the ceiling, hanging upside down. “come on, you’re next. you can do it.”

you take a deep breath before hopping onto the pipes, copying his movements. until you’re hanging upside down and slowly climbing over an open room filled with the ships crew.

“evacuating, people. come on! let’s go!” a human man runs by screaming underneath you.

you squeak when your grip slightly falters, making neteyam stop in his tracks to look down at you through his legs.

“for the love of the great mother, please don’t fall.” he says to you, but it sounds as if he’s talking to himself.

the three of you slowly inch forward once the soldiers pass until you finally reach another metal platform. lo’ak is the first one to fall down, landing easily on his feet and then neteyam.

you’re still hanging on for dear life, not sure how you’re going to drop down that far without hurting yourself. especially your recently mended broken ankle.

“just fall! i’ll catch you!” he quietly calls up to you.

“are you sure? will you actually catch me?” you cry out, your muscles shaking under the pressure of holding up your entire body weight.

“yes! trust me!” he whisper-yells up to you, “lo’ak, help!” neteyam hisses at his brother.

before you could make the decision for yourself, your overworked muscles give out. you fall downward toward neteyam, your feet flail in the air. the scream that threatens to burst out from your lungs is held inside, scared it would give you away to the crew.

instead of feeling the pain of the pavement and metal coming in contact with your body, neteyam and lo’ak catch you.

your eyes are wide as you look over their shocked faces, “i can’t believe i just fell.” you breathe out as they put you down on your feet.

“gracefully, of course.” neteyam teases you with a wink, his hand pushes gently against your lower back to lead you in between him and his brother as they walk forward.

lo’ak slowly starts to creep forward until he reaches the end of the yellow platform you’re on.

a few soldiers are walking by with spider, so the sully brothers take the opportunity to jump on top of them to attack. lo’ak uses his gun he found to swing and hit a few of the men, instead of actually pulling the trigger. neteyam punches a few of them and tosses one of them overboard.

you can do this, you can do this.

with a deep breath, you jump down from above. you land on top of the shoulders of one of the men, using the blunt handle of your knife to hit him across the face. your thighs suffocatingly squeeze around his head until he falls to the ground unconscious.

the man falls forward directly on his face after losing to your battle, giving you the opportunity to land gracefully on your feet.

you let out a gasp when gunshots go off behind your back, spinning around with wide eyes to see who was shot- but it’s thankfully just lo’ak using his gun on one of them.

you stand up from your spot, panting as all of you look over the bodies of the men you just took out.

“oh, hey!” spider huffs out towards you, his chest huffing. you awkwardly wave at him, giving him a small smile. “we should go.” the human boy says next.

“let’s go.” neteyam says to you, grabbing your hand and jumping off with you to the lower ground floor.

“thanks, guys.” spider says breathlessly once all of you land safely.

your mouth opens to reply, but across the room two avatar mercenaries emerge and spot the four of you, “oh no.” you breathe out.

“go!” spider screams, his voice slightly cracks.

lo’ak attempts to aim and shoot, but neteyam shoves his gun down and pushes him forward.

“go, go, go!” neteyams hand tightly grips your wrist to pull you behind him as he runs forward, ducking his head to dodge the bullets.

“oh fuck! oh shit!” you screech as you’re blindly lead by neteyam as the bullets fly past your head.

the four of you scurry behind a wall. neteyam pushes you towards spider, the force making you stumble into the boy. neteyam snatches lo’aks gun from his hands, “give me that!”

he barely aims the gun at the men, and just starts pulling the trigger, “go, go, go!” he shouts, and points towards the open water.

spider and lo’ak are the first to jump, but you refuse to leave neteyam behind, “go! what are you doing? get out of here!” he screams at you, hiding behind cover before going to shoot at them again.

“screw that! i’m not leaving you, neteyam!” you argue with him, pressing your back farther into the wall as the bullets shoot into the concrete behind you.

“aah fuck! why do you have to be so stubborn?” he grunts at you, continuing to shoot at them. his gun clicks, indicating he’s out of ammo.

“come on!” he throws the gun to the side, extending his arm to grasp your hand tightly to run towards the water.

the soldiers continue to shoot at you until you both leap over the yellow railing and into the ocean. something hard pelts your right shoulder, making you wince as you fall towards the ocean.

the pressure of the water makes your hands separate, screaming out his name as he is sucked away from you.

once your eyes open under the salty seawater, all you can see is bubbles and the usually blue water is slightly stained red. your arms lift to paddle under the boat, but an excruciatingly sharp pain shoots from your right side.

using your left arm, you swim under the boat and pull yourself to the surface on the other side. gasping for air, you cry out hoarsely and cough as you bob under the water. the salty liquid fills your mouth whenever you try to speak.

“come on!” you hear tsireya’s voice coming from somewhere, but the waves continue to knock roughly against your head. every time your head sinks under the water, the crimson color worsens.

“neteyam!” you gargle out. every word you attempt to speak sparks at your nerve-endings, fueling the fire of the agony that ripples throughout your entire body.

“oh shit. she’s shot!” lo’ak screams, the sound of rapid swimming grows louder as someone comes over to you.

just as your body starts to sink again, an arm strongly slides under your arms from around your back. you gasp for air once you breach the surface, sputtering out the water inside of your mouth.

“help me! someone help me!” neteyams voice is loud next to your head, making your ears ring. your breath rapidly puffs from your mouth as you seek for some sort of solace from your pain.

another arm wraps around your body as you’re dragged forward in the water. you cough but instead it comes out like a wheeze. oh, that’s not good.

your eyes slightly squint open, only being able to see flashes of blue as your limp body is tugged onto the saddle of an ilu.

you let out a piercing cry as you’re forced to sit up on the animal. instinctively, you want to curl in on yourself, but the person behind you holds you up with their arms around your abdomen.

“it hurts!” you sob out loudly, which crying just makes the pain even worse. it feels as if the right side of your body has been replaced with ice and electricity that is wired directly to your spine.

you overhear spider say something along the lines of, “she’s bleeding really bad.” which makes the panic grow even more in your chest.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! everything is gonna be okay. bro, go!” neteyam shouts from behind you, pulling you back against his chest.

the ilu underneath you chirps as it takes off in the water, “it’s okay. we got you, i got you. hurry up!” his voice cracks as he desperately screams at his brother.

“i’m trying!” lo’ak shouts back at him as the ilu picks up speed to rush forward.

“they have kiri and tuk!” tsireya cries out from the fin of the ilu, making your eyes burst open from a rush of adrenaline. “we… have to go back!”

you attempt to sit up but instead you fall forward weakly onto lo’aks back in front of you. your cheek presses flat against his damp skin as you struggle to breathe, “we can’t! we can’t go back!” lo’ak yells out, continuing forward.

“dad-! eagle eye! y/n is shot! we need help!” neteyam uses his comm to talk to his father. his voice is frantic as he speaks to him, making you think your wound is worse than you think.

“hurry, lo’ak! dad is over there.” the boy behind you slightly moves, indicating that he’s pointing in a direction you can’t see.

it seems like an eternity until the ilu slows down, the creature squaks loudly in the rough water as the waves crash over your bodies.

“help!” neteyam shouts from behind you as he jumps into the water, “lo’ak, lower her to me!”

you let out a hoarse cough, your breathing still coming out in short bursts. you can barely open your eyes as you’re lowered into the rough water by lo’ak.

neteyam grabs ahold of your head, cradling you in his arms along with tsireya and spider holding onto your body so you wouldn’t float away.

“hurry!” she yells over the sound of the waves breaking against the shore.

“oh no.” you hear jake rush over to your side, opening your heavy eyelids to see him leaning over you from standing on the rock.

“hurry, please!” neteyam cries out, holding onto you tight.

“it’s gonna be okay, baby. i promise. my dads gonna help you.” his voice shakes as he speaks to you.

you raspily cough as another wave pelts your bodies, gurgling out the water as your head lulls to the side. “no, no, my love. stay with me.” one of his wet hands cups your cheek to pull your face back up, “hurry up! pull us up!” he yells at his father.

it seems like everybody’s hands are on you as you’re lifted out of the water and into the air. two different hands cradle your head, and others hoist your legs up.

you’re gently laid down onto the surface of the rock, a sob wracks through your lungs as you wheeze.

your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you struggle to calm your racing heart. your chest feels tight, as if an invisible noose is constricting around your lungs.

your eyes finally open fully, tears clouding your vision. neteyam and jake are the ones directly beside you, their heads covering the cloudy sky.

“hold on.” jake warns you as he lifts you up to inspect the exit wound on your shoulder. your wound throbs, exploding in your head with a blinding whiteness.

the feeling makes you squirm, and gasp from the sheer amount of agony.

neteyams hand desperately holds onto yours, his watery eyes look down at you before glancing up at his dad. “do something! help her!”

the air whips around your body, causing your wet skin to feel colder than it should. your hand grips neteyams tightly, practically crushing his fingers.

jake presses one of his large hands against your chest to create pressure on your bleeding wound. you hiccup out a weak cry from the tenderness of it, writhing under his hand.

“it’s okay. it’s okay.” jake shooshes you gently, his eyes darting to his eldest son with a worried look.

“nete...” you croak out between your rapid breaths, making the boy look down at you.

“everything’s gonna be okay. i’m so sorry.” he repeats, making you shake your head. he goes to protest but neytiri arrives on her ikran, leaping off and rushing over to join the crowd gathered around you.

she gasps in shock and drops to her knees beside neteyam, one of her hands comes up to rest on your knee for comfort.

you give her a weak smile, your bottom lip quivering as you do so. you look over the people around you, seeing how they’re all crying for you. wow, it really seems like you’re dying right now.

jake sits back, his hand still pressed firmly on your chest. he looks off in the distance as if he’s listening to something.

“where are your sisters?” he questions neteyam and lo’ak, his eyes darting between them, “your sisters. where are they?” his voice grows louder.

“they’re on the ship.” you groan out, sputtering out a wet cough.

jake looks down at you, his eyes widening in fear. “neteyam, you stay here with her. keep pressure on it, it didn’t go all the way through. we’re gonna go get them.” jake transfers the job over to neteyam to keep you alive, and you can see the panic on the boys features.

neytiri stands alongside jake, ready to fight for her daughters, “where exactly are they?” jake asks you, but you have no idea.

“they’re.. they’re at the moon pool.” spider looks up at jake who’s face contorts in confusion, “at the well deck. midships?” he tries to simplify it, but somehow makes it more complicated.

“come on, i’ll show you.” spider stands and motions to the water.

“lo’ak, come!” neytiri calls her son, motioning towards her ikran for him to follow her.

the younger boy wipes his tears and taps your leg, “you better be all good by the time we get back.” he points at you as he was threatening you.

a shiver wracks your body, but you smile at him through the pain, “she will, yeah?” neteyam looks down at you with a watery smile, making you nod in response.

jake crouches beside you one last time, his hand resting on the top of your head. “try to control your breathing, okay? i know it hurts, but hyperventilating will make it worse. we’ll come back for you.” he gives you a soft smile before standing up to walk away with spider towards the water.

nausea starts to rise in your belly from the immense pain, making you feel as if you’re going to pass out.

before anything happens, you have to let neteyam know how you truly feel about him. you don’t care that tsireya is beside you, the only thing that matters right now is him.

“neteyam…” you cough roughly, forcing him to look down at you, “yes, yes, my love. i’m here.” his voice trembles.

you admire his saddened features for a moment; how his skin crinkles between his eyebrows, how his perfect lips quiver… the streak of your blood that runs across his cheek from inevitablely tucking his unruly braids behind his ear, and his big round eyes that are glassy with tears. he’s trying his hardest to bottle in his emotions to stay strong for you, to keep you calm… your love for him is unconditional.

“i love you. i always have.” your voice is almost like a whisper.

a sob escapes from his lips, dropping his head down onto your forehead softly before lifting back up to look down at you.

“nga yawne lu oer.” you repeat, choking on a cough that burns at your throat. you can feel your head growing lighter and lighter from the amount of blood you’re losing.

he can tell by the dim look in your eyes that your condition is worsening by the second, “i love you so much. more than anyone would ever know.” his voice cracks as his emotions finally spill over.

his head hangs between his shoulders as he sobs, his body shakes with each one that tears through him. you muster up the rest of your strength to lift your arm to cup his cheek and tilt his head towards you.

and suddenly, once his eyes are on yours, the feeling of warmth spreads throughout your cold, damp body. the pain slowly starts to fade as your mind succumbs to the sleepiness tugging at your brain. his golden eyes lull you to sleep, your hand drops from his face and lands on your body with a thud.

neteyam’s heart rate picks up as he watches you go limp and your hand intertwined within his loses it’s strength, “no, no, no, no!” his eyes frantically look over your face as your eyelids fall shut.

“no!” he screeches in pain, it feels as if his heart has been ripped in two. he cries out your name as he lifts your upper body up to cradle you, “please no! great mother, please-!” he’s cut off when his voice cracks and goes an octave higher than it should have.

tsireya cries silently next to you, her hand reaches out to rest on his shoulder for some sort of comfort to him.

neteyam pulls your body close to his, tucking your head under his chin as he rocks you back and forth, “my love, you can’t leave me. i’m so sorry. i should have protected you.”

the boy feels himself growing smaller as he holds your limp body in his arms. this heartbreak is different for him. it feels cold and weighs heavy in his chest like drying concrete. he should’ve put you in front of him- he should’ve taken the bullet for you.

your body twitches in his grasp, making him pull back to look down at you. he leans down to bring his ear to your mouth, feeling the very subtle puffs of air leaving your nose.

before he could rule out your death, his fingers find the pulse points scattered along your body. your heartbeat is weak, but still there underneath your skin.

“she’s alive.” he whispers into the air in shock, his eyes look at tsireya, “she’s alive! she’s breathing!” he exclaims through his tears.

“we can’t wait for them. we need to get her to the village right away.” tsireya stands to run to the water to summon her ilu with a few clicks emitting from her throat.

the animal chitters as it’s head breaches the surface. neteyam picks you up to walk you to the edge, tsireya helps him into the water with you and onto the saddle with her before she takes off back towards awa’atlu.

…

the sound of beeping is the first thing you hear when you wake up, and the sound of your own sluggish breathing. something is tightly wrapped around your right arm, your shoulder, and across your breasts; to replace your top.

slowly, your eyes begin to flutter open, instantly being met with a pair of glowing yellow eyes belonging to norm.

maybe you died and woke up back in the forest.

“hey, good morning. how you feelin?” he asks you before glancing down at a tablet in his hand.

your brain takes in everything around you, all the gear brought in by norm and most likely max too. the marui you’re in is tiny, definitely not the one you lived in with the sullys. the iv stand that holds a bag of fluids that’s connected to your good arm. the amount of mobility in your neck isn’t the greatest, forcing you to only be able to use your eyes.

you can tell you’re laying on a cot with a blanket over your body; a familiarly weaved one.

as you blink away the sleep from your eyes, your memories starting to flood back into your brain. panic settles in the deepest part of your chest, washing over your body like a tidal wave, “where’s neteyam?” your hoarse voice croaks nastily from your throat being tremendously dry.

norm motions behind him with his head, “he’s sleeping over there. he’s been waiting for you to wake up for quite a bit now.”

your head painfully turns to the side to look at your boy, who is sleeping sitting up. his arms are crossed over his chest, eyelashes fluttered shut over his cheeks. he looks so peaceful.

“what happened?” you mumble softly, now turning your attention back to norm.

“well…” he sighs, “you were shot and we had to get the bullet out that was lodged in your right lung. you’re honestly really lucky to be alive.” norm simplifies it with a pitiful smile as he looks at you, “now, let me wake your lover boy up.”

norm stands to take a step towards neteyam, slightly shaking his shoulder to tell him that you’re awake. you notice how is arms are the first to fall, then his head. his body suddenly realizes it’s time to wake up, and then his eyes open. he blinks wildly as he attempts to understand what norm is saying to him.

then his eyes are on yours, his golden-honey colored eyes you adore so much.

neteyam practically shoves norm out of the way to crawl forward, sliding on his knees. before speaking any words to you, he leans down to press a gentle kiss against your lips which you gladly reciprocate; so soft it’s almost as if he’s afraid he would break you.

“…and that’s my cue to leave.” norm shuffles out of the marui to give you two some privacy.

“i can’t believe you’re awake. i thought i was going to lose you.” his eyes refuse to look at you as he stares at your heart rate on the monitor, his breathing hitches as he fights back tears.

“neteyam… you know nothing could break us apart, not even a bullet.” you say jokingly, which he slightly chuckles at.

you try to laugh along with him, but a cough replaces it instead. pain shoots through the right side of your body, but thankfully not as bad as it was before. he frowns at your discomfort, his hand on your upper arm rubs soft patterns into your skin.

“i’m never going to let you out of my sight again. you know that right?” he lets out a breath, leaning down to lay his chin against your good shoulder. he looks up at you with his pretty smile.

“wait, is everyone else okay? kiri? tuk?” worry settles in your chest. you didn’t even get to find out if they were rescued before you went unconscious.

“don’t worry. everybody is okay. scratched up, but okay.” he breathes out, his eyes dance over your face before leaning down to kiss you once more.

before your lips could even graze against each others, someone clears their throat from the entrance of the marui.

neteyam lifts his head up, his ears pinning back in embarrassment when he sees his dad standing there. you can’t help but smile at jake sully, happy to see him in one piece.

“hey, kid.” he ducks his head as he takes a step inside. as he grows closer, you notice the stitched cuts that litter his blue skin.

“ouch. what happened to you?” you jokingly ask him, which makes the man laugh softly as he squats down to the level your cot.

“could ask you the same thing. how ya feeling?” he briefly looks over at his son before back at you.

“i’m alive… and probably on a bunch of pain meds so i’m feeling ppprrretty good.” you softly laugh out, slightly wincing from the dull pain.

“alright, come on in.” he waves at doorway.

you watch as two pairs of eyes emerge from the doorway, belonging to tuk and kiri. the little girl smiles when she makes eye contact with you, running over to your side.

kiri takes her time to walk up to you, sitting beside her older brother as tuk pushes her dad out of the way to hug you.

“gentle, gentle.” jake warns her.

“i missed you.” she whispers. your free arm pats her back, before she pulls back and sits down next to her dad.

your free hand is quickly taken away from tuk as kiri grabs it and holds onto you. “i thank the great mother everyday for keeping here you with us.” her serene voice speaks softly to you.

“i’m so happy all of you are okay.” you feel your emotions starting to get the best of you, a small tear slides out of the corner of your eye.

“we’re so happy that you’re okay.” jake says, smiling m down at you.

“where’s neytiri and lo’ak?” you slightly clear your throat, your eyes darting over the sully’s surrounding you.

almost divine timing as lo’ak slides through the entrance with his mother following, “we’re here.” neytiri gives you a soft smile as they tower over you from the end of your bed.

norm peeks inside, his eyebrows furrowing. the sully family packed themselves so tight in here to visit you, “alright people. let her rest.” norm lectures, ushering them out one by one.

“if he thinks i’m leaving you, he is very wrong.” neteyam whispers in your ear, making you grin.

“c’mon, neteyam.” jake says from the doorway, motioning with his hand for his son to follow. he sighs loudly as he presses a kiss to your temple and standing up. he can’t say no to his father, as much as he wish he could.

“coming.” he grumbles as neteyam looks back at you to smile briefly before following his dad.

your eyes roll back to stare at the ceiling, tracing every tight weave of the fabric that makes up the marui. norm checks a few things by your beside, marking down your current vitals and hooking up another bag of iv fluids.

“you’ll be better in no time.” norm smiles down at you.

the next few weeks go by terribly slow, you’re bed-ridden for most of the time; until norm or max decide it’s time for you to get up and stretch your legs.

even the slightest movement is strenous. as if you just ran around awa’atlu and back, your stamina is just not the same as it was. you can barely make it past the marui outside before you have to turn back to lay down.

today is the day that your stitches are being taken out, finally giving you free access to examine your wound. you crane your head down, bringing your chin to your chest to stare at it. it’s merely a discolored scar, no longer a hole, that is perfectly sealed. almost as if nothing has happened.

you take a deep breath, looking up at norm and max with a smile, “thanks for everything. seriously.”

they both nod and smile at you, “of course. anything for you. we couldn’t let anything happen to you, we promised your mom and you that.” max replies.

the mention of your mother makes your heart tighten in your chest, but you push the thought to the back of your mind. “now, you have to follow our instructions. no exercise, no crazy swimming, you can get in the water but nothing more than slow wading and/or floating.” norm points out.

“oh, and when we say exercise, we mean nothing that will make your heart and respiration rate go up too much.” max adds, eyeing you suspiciously.

your eyes look over them, a bit confused on what they are insinuating. finally it clicks, they mean sex. heat rises from your chest and settles onto your cheeks, slightly wiggling in your seat uncomfortably.

“oh my god. shut up. i’m not doing any of whatever you’re saying.” you shamefully put your head in your left hand, still being wary on using your right one yet.

“okay good.” norm nods with an awkward laugh, “alright, well the worlds waitin’ for you! go out and get it.” he motions to the door.

“yeah, yeah.” you murmur and stand up from your sitting position on the bed.

just as your mind ponders on where neteyam could be, his face peeks around the corner. a big smile forms on his face when he sees you standing up.

you wave at norm and max before walking outside into the sunshine, “ah there’s my girl.” his large hands consume your waist as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you savor the feeling of properly being able to kiss him.

he pulls back from you, his eyes glance down over your face with heavy eyelids. “i can’t believe you’re standing up right now.” his fingertips softly press into your fleshy waist out of excitement.

the touch is so subtle but it sends a visceral jolt down your spine. all you can do is smile at him and lean into his chest for a hug. the boy wraps his arms gently around your shoulders, pulling you in closer.

“i love you.” you mumble against his warm skin. being the first time you’ve said it to him since you were hurt.

neteyam squeezes your frame under his muscular arms and kisses the top of your head. “i love you.” his voice rumbles deep in his chest; the sound comforts you.

“i have something to show you.” he hums as he pulls away, “a little welcome back gift.”

your eyebrows raise in curiosity, “oh really? what is it?” you attempt to pry, but by the looks of how his face scrunches up he isn’t going to budge on his secret.

“lets go. i must show you.” he unravels his arms from around you to grab one of your hands. he’s gentle as he leads you towards the beach.

the warm sands sinks in between your toes, making you gasp in awe from the feeling. oh how you’ve missed this. the heat of the sun beats down on your head, enveloping your body in a euphoric state.

the shells sitting at the shore rustle under the soft waves, creating natural music as they roll around.

neteyam continues to lead you down to the water. you let out a happy cackle as the sea foam tickles your toes, “this is amazing.”

he stares at you in awe from how excited you are to be with the sea again. the rays of the sun catch your features perfectly, making him want to melt into the sand. you’re ethereal to him.

the clicking noise he makes takes your attention away from the water. you carefully watch the sea, taking notice to something stirring beneath the surface. you almost jump back in surprise when an ilu bursts from the water and squaks loudly at you both.

“you could’ve given us a little bit of a warning, buddy!” neteyam laughs loudly as he steps farther into the water, now knee high.

oh, how careful he is with you. his hand tightly grips yours as he approaches his bonded animal, “you ready?” he glances back at you.

you give him a nod of approval, letting him pull you forward in the water. his hands grip your waist gently to lift you up to place you on the back of the saddle.

has he been working out since you’ve been out of commission? the way he picks you up like you weigh nothing makes your belly burst with butterflies. it’s so attractive.

he’s next to climb up, easily situating himself in front of you as he brings his kuru forward to make tsaheylu. your arms instinctively slither around his slender body, pressing yourself into his back.

“hold on to me. i’m still gonna go slow, okay?” he says to you, slightly turning his head to the side to look behind him.

“let’s go! let’s go!” you bounce excitedly as you look up at him. he chuckles in response as the ilu takes off, slower than its usual pace.

instead of diving beneath the water, neteyam keeps both of you above the surface. the water splashes up on your legs, barely misting you in the face.

you admire the village from this angle, feeling as if you’ve taken it all for granted before the accident. it’s always been beautiful to you, but now you take the time to look at every little detail; treasuring life.

the trip isn’t long, but it’s very secluded from the rest of the village. he follows a saltwater canal that runs between the large mangrove trees. soon the sun is taken away from you by their large branches and leaves.

the darkness reveals the bioluminescence during the day, your eyes ogle over the side of the ilu. you’ve never seen anything like this before, not even in the forest.

“neteyam. where are you taking me?” your voice is quiet, afraid any harsh or loud tone would disturb the peacefulness of it all.

“tsireya showed lo’ak, kiri, and i this sort of cove,” your eyes continue to dart around the new environment, “it sits hidden somewhere amongst these trees.“ he mumbles as he searches for any familiar landmark.

the canal splits off into two, his gut feeling is to take the right one. the water glows blue from the motion of the animal, indicating he has taken the correct path.

the sound of running water grows louder as he continues forward, but the ilu slows down to a stop. “we have to swim the rest of the way. it is too shallow for him to swim.”

neteyam climbs off the animal, standing up since his feet can touch the ground. he’s about chest high in the water as he reaches up for you, “here goes nothing.” you mumble to yourself, letting his hands carefully grab you to hoist you down to his level.

the boy helps you float onto his back, “hold onto my neck. you can’t stand here and i don’t want you to swim too much.”

you smile at his kindness, how he continues to worry about you. your legs wrap around his torso under the water, your arms drape around his neck loosely. you slightly cringe from the tightness in your right arm, huffing slightly from the pain.

“you good?” he asks as he continues forward down the creek, “yep. all good.” you mumble quietly.

your eyes can’t help but dance around. this place is magical, like something you would read from a human storybook.

the soft flow of water that ripples from his movement sends serotonin chemicals to your brain. the sound of a waterfall grows louder by the second, but you see nothing in front of you.

“here we are.” he stops for a moment, before pushing back the dense sea vines that hang from a thick branch.

behind the leaves are brightly colored seawater pools that cascade down into a bigger one. each one is a slightly brighter blue, almost neon from the bioluminescent glow.

you gasp in shock from the overwhelming amount of color as neteyam walks forward. he steps out of the water onto a bank, letting you down off of his back. “beautiful, right?” he’s almost breathless from the view, and he’s seen it once before.

you take a hesitant step forward, watching how your foot sinks into the glowing sand. “this is absolutely breathtaking, neteyam.”

you’re speechless, unable to wrack any other words out except that it’s breathtaking. you dip a toe into the water, almost leaping into it out of happiness from how warm it is.

“these are sacred pools to the metkayina. they are connected to eywa.” he informs you as he sinks forward into the water that sparkles brightly under the motion.

you follow him into the cove, eyes taking in the foliage and rocks that surrounds the pools. “you can be within the great mother here. to connect to her, to pray, to give birth, to marry, and to mate.” the last word is almost whispered out amongst the steam that sits above the surface.

your body becomes hot, whether it’s from the temperature of the water or his words. once neteyam is waist deep in the main pool, he turns around as he grabs his braid off of his back.

almost as if it sensed his presence, a bright pink leave-like tendril unravels from the rocky side of the pool. you watch as he connects his queue to it, bright pink and glowing along with the rest of the world around you.

neteyams eyes flutter shut and his shoulders drop down slightly, his breathing evens out as he relaxes. your eyes dance across his abdomen, following the perfectly etched muscles in his blue skin.

you follow the stripes that litter his body, and the freckles that sparkle in the darkness. your eyes catch the beaded neck piece he always seems to wear, smiling as you step forward.

one of his eyes peek open to watch you shuffle closer, outstretching his hand for you to take. you reach behind your back with your good arm to grip your thick braid, bringing it around to connect it to the plant.

your breath hitches in your chest from the feeling of uniting with eywa. your grip on his hand tightens as the feeling grows stronger, washing over your nervous system with harmonious tranquility.

your breathing evens out, and the ache of pain subsides in your chest. you feel as if you’re floating, or have drank a little too much of the nectar you sneak during celebrations.

you lean into his chest, your skin bursts with tingles all over your body once you touch him. the boy almost groans in pleasure, but holds it back for his own dignity.

you revel in the feeling of your hand gliding up his lengthy arm, feeling every little fuzzy hair. neteyam stares down at you, watching your movements with heavy eyelids.

“i want to be one with you.” he blurts out, making your doe-like eyes shift from his body to his face.

“with me?” your voice is slightly shaky, whether it’s from the effects of the plant or nervousness.

he unlatches his braid from the plant, motioning with a nod of his head for you to do the same. you gulp as he holds his kuru in between your bodies, ready to officially bond with you.

the pink wisps float and reach towards the end of your braid in your hand, begging to connect with yours. you glance up at the boy in front of you, who waits patiently for you to connect them.

you take a deep breath before moving yours closer, watching how intimately the extensions of yourselves wind up and tangle together.

both you, and neteyam, suck in a sharp breath through your teeth in sync. the feeling of your nervous systems connecting creates a deep crater of heat in your lower belly.

neteyam can sense your arousal; he can feel you. how you’re pulsating between your thighs for him, and your nerve endings that make him feel the same way.

“oh, neteyam.” you mewl out, stepping forward to press your hand against his warm chest.

as soon as your head angles up to look at up, he swoops down to catch your lips with his own. sparkles explode, making both of you cry out in amazement.

teeth clack together as his hand presses into your lower back to pull you even closer to him. your hot body against his puts him in a euphoric state, begging you silently to let him touch you.

he leans forward, almost bending you backwards to deepen the heated kiss. your tongues become one as you both grow more desperate for each other, to feel more.

he whines as one of his hands slide up your side, his fingertips feel as if they’ve been replaced with feathers. his large hand hovers beneath your breast, slightly pulling back from kissing you, “can i touch you…” his voice is shallow, with the slight twinge of desperation.

“you can do anything you want. please.” your eyes flutter open to be met by his hungry gaze.

he presses forward, connecting your lips once again to continue where he left off. his hand grips your breast that fits perfectly in the palm of his hand, while his other hand busies itself by sliding over the swell of your ass.

his fingers are so long, they curl against your inner thigh. so close, yet so far from where you need him the most.

you both moan out when he finally touches you, his thumb swipes over your sensitive nipple, causing a whimper to tumble out of your lips.

“i love how you sound.” he heaves into the kiss, making another high-pitched mewl puff into his mouth from you.

the boy gently pulls away from the kiss, keeping your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. he watches how it bounces back into place, before swooping down to your neck.

he leaves kisses and tiny love bites under your jaw and shoulder, as his hand continues to tease you against your inner thigh.

he slightly brushes his fingertips against the cloth that separates his hand from your core, making you wail out in shock.

he pulls back from his attack on your neck, his eyes intently look over your face. “i want to make love with you… here. if you’ll have me.” his voice is almost nervous.

you can feel the anxiety biting at your chest, itching to make itself known but you push it away. you’re safe with him, and you know he will always be gentle with you.

“i want you, neteyam. all of you.” you nod in agreement, one of your arms lift to cup the back of his neck to pull him down to your level.

he smiles as you kiss him, grinning like a wild man. he pulls back slightly, nuzzling your noses together, “i love you so much.” he whispers into your shared breath as he continues to keep eye contact with you.

“i love you.” you reply before closing the space between your mouths.

neteyam quickly takes control, moving his hand away from your breast to cup both of his hands under your ass to lift you slightly out of the water.

he presses your back down against a rocky bank over to the side. it sits shallow in the pool, letting the warm water sit dormant against your upper thighs.

the sully boy slots himself in between your legs as he kisses down your chest, careful over your wound until he makes it to the waistband of your loincloth.

his big round golden eyes stare down at you, the look he gives you makes any sort of reservation disappear from your mind.

you nod fervently to give him the okay. his long fingers tentatively hook into the thin cloth to unravel it from your body.

once the cloth is discarded somewhere to the side, he leans down to kiss you. his lips work magic against yours as if he knows your body like the back of his hand.

his mouth strays away from yours, pressing wet kisses down your neck until he meets your shoulder.

“sevin nìtxan lu aynga nang.” his tempting voice growls into your ear. the feeling of his breath washing over your skin sends shockwaves throughout your nerves. “you are so pretty.”

his hand ghosts down your abdomen, tracing lines down your tender skin. at last, he finally touches you, making you cry out into humid air.

neteyam let’s out a gasp as he mouths at your neck. the same feeling transferred over to him through your connection.

a feeling that’s so foreign to you, but something that you never want to stop. you let your hands explore his body as the pleasure sparks between your legs. your fingers dance over his biceps, across his chest and up to his neck.

countless sounds tumble from your lips, your back arches off the damp rock as you moan out his name. neteyam chuckles deeply against your lips from the desperation in your voice, “almost, baby.” he hushes you as he dives into the kiss.

soon his hand pulls away, leaving your chest heaving and the close proximity of your climax withering away. “whhhyyy…” you whine, your thighs clench around his hips to pull him closer.

“not yet.” he hums. his forearm sits heavy next to your head, slightly leaning to the side to unclasp the loin cloth that sits around his hips. he throws it behind him somewhere, not caring if it lands in the water. it’s the last thing on his mind when he has you underneath him.

you can’t help but glance down between your bodies then back up to him with wide eyes. his eyes look over your face, seeing the apprehension in your eyes. “do you trust me?” he mumbles.

you intently watch how his wet lips move as he talks to you, almost in a trance. “yeah, of course i do.” you breathe out shakily.

he grins from your response, “i will always be careful with you, muntxa.”

the new nickname makes your heart soar- he referred to you as his mate. he notices your emotions growing higher, by the way your eyes go glossy. he can read you like a book.

his lips press into yours, passionate and desperate as he situates himself below.

this is much different from his hand, the pressure makes your fingernails dig deep into his shoulder blades. the gravelly sound he makes sends flutters up your spine, forcing your brain into overdrive to evoke more of those from his lips.

you’re the one making him feel this way. desire clouds your thoughts, your legs aid in pushing his hips down until he is flush against your body. he stills for a moment, breathing heavily into your mouth as if he’s holding himself back.

the next few movements of his hips make you cry out in ecstasy. he’s quick to pull more out of your chest, a flurry of his names and pleas for more.

his lips leave marks scattered across your neck, whispering praises into your ear as your body lurches underneath him. he doesn’t hold back with his own noises which forces you closer to the edge.

your body lets go, arms tightening around his neck to trap him close to your body as your thighs seize around his waist. you choke out a cry of his name, feeling his tail wrap around your ankles to lock you in.

his teeth sink into the meaty flesh of your shoulder, a true sign of becoming his mate. you wince from the slight pain, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

his body stills and trembles on top of you, indicating his release. he pulls his mouth away from your neck, gasping for breath. his eyes examine the two red spots from his canines that pierced you.

one of his hands come up to swipe the beads of blood away from your skin before leaning up to look at you. his forehead leans against yours, noses slotting together. “my love, you are amazing.” he murmurs breathlessly and lays his entire body weight on top of you.

you cackle loudly from the pressure of his body on yours, “get off… can’t breathe.” you throw your head back as you jokingly let out a wheeze.

neteyam sharply lifts off of you, his eyes wide as he looks over you wildly. his quick movements give you whiplash, he sits back on his heels and stares at you worriedly. “are you okay? i’m sorry. i didn’t think you wouldn’t be able to breathe. i-.” his voice trails off when his hands rub over his face.

you sit up in your spot, your legs still loosely draped around his hips. your small hands reach up to wrap around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. “oh neteyam. i was just joking.” your voice is soft.

he flies forward, all arms as he wraps himself around you, his head presses into the crook of your neck. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you.” you mumble out against his chest.

“it just- that noise. it reminded of me of everything that happened… when you were.. were hurt.” his voice croaks, obviously holding back his tears.

your heart aches for him, guilt sitting heavy in your chest. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” you sniffle, holding onto his waist so tight like as he would be ripped away from you at any moment.

“don’t be sorry. it’s not your fault.” he shudders, pulling back slightly. he kisses your forehead and sucks in a deep breath through his nose, “i love you.”

you take a deep breath before unraveling yourself from his body, “let’s go in the water.” you mumble, trying to change the subject. you’re still sensitive to the mention of your ‘accident’.

he smiles down at you, his thumb and forefinger pinches your chin to look into your eyes. he wiggles out of your grip to slide backwards into the cerulean water. his hand grabs your ankle to carefully tug you along with him, “come.” he laughs.

you use your arms to lift yourself up and hop beside him. he instantly pulls you into his chest, rocking side to side on heels. you relax in his embrace before he unravels one of his arms to pluck something out of the water.

your eyes open to see him holding up his loin cloth, it’s soaked and dribbling into the water. you can’t help but stifle a giggle into your fist, “so that’s where it went.”

neteyam rolls his eyes jokingly, a smile on his face as he takes a step back from you. he swoops down to peck a kiss to your lips before walking to the edge to climb out.

you watch his every move, how he expertly ties the wet cloth back around his hips and tail. it swishes happily behind him when he turns around and sees you watching him.

you suddenly feel a lot less clothed, crossing your arms over your chest insecurely. neteyam looks down at your breasts then back up to your face, “my love. you realize… we just?” he questions you with a cackle.

you huff out of annoyance, looking around for your clothes he discarded everywhere. “can you please find my clothes?” you whine.

“but i want to see you like that. you’re beautiful. i don’t like your clothes.” he teases you, placing his hands on his hips.

“you know, i can feel my shoulder thumping from you biting me.” you say matter-of-factly with a humorous tone.

“it was just the moment, but hey! now everyone will know not to mess with you because you’re mine.” he chuckles, his eyes glimpse at the very evident bite mark on your left shoulder.

what a possessive little bitch. everyone knows you’re his, but now it’s evidently marked on your body; they’ll know you’ve mated. it makes your belly do somersaults, aching to jump his bones again.

neteyam peeks around at the foliage, looking for your top and bottoms. he bends down in some plants, grabbing a piece of cloth and your beaded top a few steps away. “don’t worry, i got ‘em.” he holds them close to his chest, motioning for you to come to him.

you huff as you wade through the warm water, taking one of his hands as he helps you take a step onto the bank of rocks.

neteyam slides the beaded top over your head, situating it over your chest. he notices how you struggle to tie the cloth on your hips, so he slaps your fingers away and ties them himself. “don’t strain yourself please.” he mumbles, “you know i’d do anything for you. even the simplest things.”

your head falls to look at your shuffling feet, feeling slightly useless from your limited mobility. he rustles with something, the sound of beads clacking makes your head peek up.

neteyam pulls the beaded neckpiece off of his neck, lowering it to you. “no, no.” you put your hands up. you know how much it means to him, and he always wears it. “your mom made that for you. i can’t take that.”

“yes, yes you can.” he pushes it against your neck, but your hand slithers between the necklace and your skin.

“no, neteyam.” you shake your head, staring up at him with your furrowed eyebrows. your angry face makes humor bubble in his chest, he can’t take you seriously.

“yes, y/n.” he mocks you, “just accept it.” he shushes you as he continues to wrap the material around your neck.

the piece perfectly forms around your neck, sitting cold and heavy. this will definitely take some getting used to. he takes a step behind you to tie the leather pieces together, tightening it around your neck. loose enough to breathe and eat comfortably, but tight enough so it won’t move.

“i must gift my new mate something of mine. it must be this, because the only other thing i have on me is my tweng.” he laughs.

“i wouldn’t mind taking your tweng off.” you slyly reply with a smirk as your fingers touch and admire the woven beads.

neteyam laughs loudly at that and throws his head back. he leans down from behind you to kiss your shoulder, “don’t worry about that. you can take it off anytime.” his voice is low, almost like a purr in your ear.

from his very persuading words, you spin around to look at him. your fingers busy themselves to toy with the waistband of his loincloth, “can i right now?” you stare up at him through your eyelashes, craving him already.

neteyam stills from your sudden energy, his eyes drop down to your hands then glance up at your face. “right now?” he asks almost in disbelief.

“right now, please.” you beg, voice shaky as you desperately grab at his hips. he gives you a simple nod of his head, your hands instantly peel the wet fabric away from his body.

neteyam leans down to pick you up, his fingertips press deep into your flesh. he presses his lips against yours, a little rougher than earlier. that’s actually amazing.

your hands card through his braids, slightly tugging at the base of them when your back collides with the trunk of a tree. neteyam blindly unravels your bottoms, continuing to kiss you intensely.

neteyam finishes what he started earlier, but this time he doesn’t hold back. he makes sure every last drop of your hunger is satisfied, giving you all that he has left in him the second round; and maybe even a third one. you cannot keep your hands to yourself, he’s just so beautiful and you’ve missed him so much.

after catching your breath and getting redressed for the second time, you finally start to head back towards the village. you melt into the heat of his back, positioning your head in the divot of his spine.

his body is so comfortable, and the sound of the water is so relaxing- you can’t help but fall asleep. you’ve exerted yourself more than you have in weeks, maybe months.

neteyam slightly shifts, making you wake up. your eyes flutter open to be met with the white sand of the beaches of awa’atlu. “we’re here.” his voice is soft as you sit up and yawn.

neteyam hops into the sea before helping you down with him. you follow him through the waist deep water and up to the shore, walking forward and into the warm sand.

his hand possessively holds yours as he proudly leads you back the marui. you’re incredibly nervous to walk around with an obvious mating mark on your shoulder, and wearing neteyams neck piece.

the villagers that pass you by, stare at you in shock. whether it’s because you’re the girl that is known for almost dying, or because your scent is strongly masked by his.

some of them whisper, and peek at you both through their peripheral vision. neteyam looks back at you with wide eyes, smoothly wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead of holding your hand.

“i think they are jealous.” he hums.

“jealous?” you nuzzle into his ribs, “very jealous.” he replies, and tightens his grip around your shoulders when he sees the chiefs son with a few of his goonies, “hi, ao’nung.” you wiggle your fingers at him lazily.

the boy gawks, his eyes take in the numerous love bites you left on neteyam and the teeth mark on your shoulder. then his eyes travel to the neck piece just as you pass him, “look at them!” one of his friends whispers, making ao’nung elbow him.

you repress a giggle in your hand, which makes neteyam sputter and press his lips to the top of your head to calm himself.

from a distance, you take note that jake and lo’ak are standing outside of the marui. surprisingly, they’re fishing together.

as the two of you approach them, jakes gaze falters from the water to look at you. “you’re back! look at you!” he exclaims loudly, patting lo’aks shoulder while he starts to walk towards you and his eldest son.

“oh wow. they healed that up very nice.” he glances at the wound, before his eyes trail up to the beads sitting beautifully on your neck. he glances at neteyam, then back to you, then back to his son.

the man clears his throat and stands up straight with his hands on his hips. obviously trying his hardest to not stare at his sons empty neck replaced with tiny bruises the size of your lips.

lo’ak turns around from looking in the water, a grin on his face when he sees you. his eyes perceive the situation, and the tension hits him like tidal wave.

his face drops into a cocky grin when he looks at his brother, “nice.” the boy nods his head.

“lo’ak.” jake hisses a warning at his son, making him turn his attention back to the line in the water.

“look, i don’t care what you kids do, i was your age once,” the sentence makes neteyam cringe, and open his mouth to speak. jake puts his hand up to silence him, “but just make sure you’re safe, and please… for the love of god don’t let your mother see.”

“dad.” neteyam barks out a laugh, which earns him a glare, “don’t worry. we were before eywa, so mom should have no problem.”

you can feel your body getting warmer by the second from this very awkward conversation.

“do not tell me what?” neytiri peeks out of the entrance of the pod, her curious eyes observe the three of you.

you watch as her face drops when she notices the jewelry adorning your neck. she takes two large steps over to you, her hand carefully touches the necklace.

then her fingertips graze over the sensitive mark on your shoulder, “you gave her your fkxile.” she hisses out, a bit too aggressively for your liking. her eyes side eye her son, staring at him with silent fury.

she’s mad about the necklace. not even the fact that you’re walking around with an evident bite mark on your shoulder, from her son.

“mother, she is my yawne. i must gift her something of mine.” he explains himself to her, but all you heard was yawne.. he called you his beloved.

she steps back with an angry huff of breath, “ah!” she hisses and balls her fists by her side.

“you are too young,” she points at him, then turns to you, “and you are still healing!”

“what if a child comes out of this? you are not bonded!” she continues ranting.

neteyam steps forward slightly in front of you, “mom, don’t worry about that. we did make tsaheylu.” he puts his hands up in front of him, as if he was trying to calm her.

her gaze shoots over to him, softening from his words. “you did?” she looks at you, smiling softly; almost proud of you and her son.

jake steps forward from behind his wife, his face obviously worried from her changing emotions. your eyes glance over at lo’ak who is staring wide eyed and open mouthed.

when he sees you look at him, he turns his eyes back towards the water.

this is so awkward. being bombarded by his parents to talk about your sex life is another level of embarrassing. you smile awkwardly and nod, “alright, kids. go inside.” jake motions for you two to continue walking.

neteyam exhales in relief, “thank you.” and grabs your hand to tug you inside quickly. “they are so fucking embarrassing.” he hisses once he is far enough away.

the two of you stare at each for a moment, before bursting into a fit of giggles. the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt, one that’s so contagious that neither of you can stop.

you’re forced to lean into his body for some sort of support, but he stumbles back from your weight. this just causes you to laugh even harder when he falls back into the wall.

your hands fall to knees, trying to take a deep breath. you feel the tears leak onto the apples of your cheeks, but there’s nothing you can do to stop.

unbeknownst to you, jake and neytiri are staring at you two from the doorway with a smile on their faces. jake has his arm slung over his wife’s shoulder, “they really do care for each other.” he comments.

“they are in love.” she breathes out softly, watching you and neteyam with adoration sparkling in her eyes; happy that her son has finally found his mate.

“let’s leave ‘em alone. we can go take a ride on my tsurak?” jake suggests, looking down at her. she nods with a smile, letting him lead her away from the doorway.

you’ve finally calmed down enough to take a full breath, a giggle still escaping here and there. you and neteyam wound up on the floor in your heap of laughter.

his hand is intertwined with yours as you sit in front of him on your heels. you wipe your tears away with your other hand.

“i…” you giggle, shaking your head, “love you… so much.” you hurl over, grabbing your stomach as another laugh quakes through your body.

neteyam leans forward, one of his hands smooth down the back of your hair. his lips peck against the top of your head, making you lift it to look him in the eyes.

“i see you, and i love you.” he mumbles, glancing down to your lips.

when he leans forward to finally kiss you, it feels like the first time. love drunk from kissing him, you ache for more…

this boy, the one you’ve yearned for since you were a teenager; who stole your sight away from any other na’vi boy, never being able to compare to anyone else. now you’re his lifelong mate, something you never would have predicted to happen. you’ll grow old together, have your own children… it’s written amongst the stars, the sea, and in the trees.

you never knew your heart could be this full- to love and care for someone so much; so deeply in your soul.

there’s nobody else you’d rather be with except for him. knowing deep down he is the one for you, and you are the one for him; for the rest of your lives.

—

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah @bellwhether @xoxobabe @koalalafications @embersfae @mae-is-crazy @softhetixx @minkyungseokie @iwanttohitmyself @neqeyam @lovedbychoi @lala-1516 @jbxws @ancientbeing10 @angrycoffeebean @taleiak @nyenye @vivangothic @theunfortunateplace @jakesully-sbabygirl @urdeadpoet

i hope u guys liked the ending. it’s honestly bittersweet 🥲 if u read this ur a real one & request or ramble abt something in my inbox bc i’m gonna be bored as hell now

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anna-hawk · 7 months

Text

You tell me you hate me [Yeah, I bet you do]

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You and Shane never got along, yet desperate circumstances make you cross an unexpected line.

Warnings/Tags: Post ZA, Canon typical violence, Enemies to lovers, Near-death experience, Hate sex, Bearded Shane

WC 9,7k // Explicit 🔞

Written for the Beardthal Bash 2023

Read it on AO3

“No… Absolutely not.”

You crossed your arms resolutely as you stared Rick down, the man standing across from you at the large table in the Greene dining room. He closed his eyes and rubbed over them as he sighed your name pleadingly.

“Listen, I know that you don’t like him-”

“Trust me, it’s very much mutual,” you ground out under your breath with your top lip curling up in distaste.

“So you know I wouldn’t be askin’ you if I had another option,” Rick continued without missing a beat.

You gave him a surly look before looking down at the large map lying unfolded on the table. Various circles and other notes were scribbled all over it, highlighting spots with existing or possible food, ammunition and fuel supplies, as well as information on walker hordes and so on.

“Everyone is gone doin’ something else and… I’d go myself if Judith wasn’t-”

“No, you can’t leave her alone,” you cut in, your voice softening at the mention of the baby. “She needs you.”

You gritted your teeth as you thought.

Running across the Greene Farm several months earlier with your little group of four friends, you hadn’t expected to find a lasting shelter and people that would quickly become the next best thing to a family. Especially since things had been tense, to say the least, when you’d arrived. Between Rick and Shane, in particular, since the two leaders of the group hadn't always seen eye to eye. Shane had been less than thrilled at the idea of letting you join, while Rick had tried to convince everyone that having more people around to help would be beneficial to everyone in the long run. Hershel Greene had been the one to put a stop to the argument, reminding Shane that he’d decided to open his doors for them just a couple of months earlier and that he’d be doing the same for you. Shane had left the room in a huff, muttering about more mouths to feed. While you’d understood his concerns, his aggressive behavior had your hackles rising instantly and fighting down the urge to snap back. Still, you’d felt beyond relieved to be invited to stay. Shane had ultimately stopped complaining when your group had proven its worth more than once over the following weeks.

With you personally, it was an entirely different story. You and Shane never managed to get along. After that first day, the man’s attitude had kept rubbing you the wrong way. Simply put, he was an utter asshole, and you’d made sure he was aware of it any chance you got. Whether he liked it or not. Whenever you were in the same room, discussing chores and missions alongside Hershel, Daryl, Rick and Hunter, one from your original group, you’d end up sniping at each other. Whatever the one said or suggested, the other would find something to complain about. It wasn’t like you couldn’t admit that he came up with clever plans or that he was generally good at keeping everyone safe, it was more his snide remarks and the way he tried to mansplain everything. It made you feel like you needed to take him down a peg.

A few weeks after your arrival, things changed between Rick and Shane on the day you all found out that Lori was pregnant. Rick had almost lost it at the idea of them having a child in this terrible new world, especially after coming so close to losing Carl, as you’d found out a few days after settling in. Yet, while the close call had clearly done something to Rick and Shane’s friendship, maybe triggering their fights because of how they suddenly viewed things, this news changed their relationship again. You didn’t know what had happened between them after they’d found out, but things had gotten better between the two men. While their relationship had slowly been mending, you sometimes felt like Shane was only able to get along with Rick again because he was fighting with you instead.

Looking at the map now, you checked the distance separating you from the nearest general store that you knew still had food and other goods, like baby formula, among other things. A pang of sadness ran through you at the reminder that little Judith didn’t have her mother anymore.

“Can’t I just go on my own?” you mumbled, knowing full well that you couldn’t with how far and dangerous the road was.

“Told ya she wouldn’t like it.”

Shane stepped through the dining room doors and joined Rick’s side, his eyes on you and a scowl tugging down his lips, the expression almost hidden in his beard. Almost. This winter had proven to be colder than the previous ones, and both Rick and Shane had let their beards grow out. While Rick’s was lighter and less long, Shane’s beard was thick and matched his curly dark hair.

“Sure, because you like the idea of spending hours alone with me in a car,” you sneered with a roll of your eyes. Shane’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened unhappily at the prospect. “Yeah, thought as much,” you scoffed and returned your attention to Rick, who sighed at the two of you but focused on the map, understanding that the matter was settled, and you would go with Shane.

“‘kay… You’ll need to take the pickup. Hershel said that the generator’s nearly out of fuel, so are a couple of the cars, and that place…” He pointed at the gas station across from the general store. “Still had some of the bigger gas cans the last time we checked it.”

Picking up the list with the items you were supposed to find off the table, you quickly scanned it and nodded before turning your back on the men.

“Meet me at the car in an hour,” you told Shane without a backward glance, it was late morning and the quicker you left, the sooner you’d be back and out of each other’s hair.

His lack of answer was answer enough, so you left the room to get ready for the trip.

Back in the room you shared with some of the other women, you dressed according to the situation before you headed to the makeshift armory to pick out a couple of guns and knives.

“Going out too?”

You turned to find your friend Nicole standing in the doorway, one of her arms in a sling. She’d nearly gotten bit by a walker the previous week and thankfully only came out with a sprained shoulder.

You nodded briefly and returned your attention to checking the bullets in the magazine and adding a few when you noticed that it wasn’t full.

“What’s wrong? I’d have thought you’d be happy to get out of here for a bit.”

You huffed out a small laugh through your nose at her remark. She really knew you well.

“I’m going with Shane,” you said simply, as you turned around, knowing that it would be enough to explain your mood.

Sure enough, she grimaced. “Oh.”

It was no secret to anyone how Shane and you felt about each other. But you were actually the odd one. As with most people in the group, except for Dale, since the older man had a penchant for being nosy, and you didn’t enjoy that about him either, Shane actually got along with Nicole rather well. It was the same for her sister Jasmine, and just as much for Hunter. They’d been as angry as you about Shane’s behavior at the start, but they’d all warmed up to the man quickly enough after a while, and it had gone both ways. Jasmine and Shane had even flirted around for a bit, before Hunter had come through and snatched her away, much to Andrea’s relief, who’d seemed to carry a torch for Shane for a while. Objectively speaking, you’d have been interested as well had Shane not been… Shane. While you shared most of your thoughts with Nicole, you certainly hadn’t admitted to finding Shane attractive. Even less about how good the beard looked on him.

“Yep.” You finished with the guns and put them into their holsters at your hips, along with a knife, while the other one went to an ankle.

“Shit… I’m sorry. I wish I could go and-” she started, fidgeting with the sling at your situation.

“Hey, no, no.” You gently grabbed her by her good shoulder and clasped the hand of the injured one as you gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, don’t worry, okay?”

Nicole sighed and nodded. “Maybe… try not to kill each other?” she smiled feebly, as you let go of her, and she watched you walk past her and to the main hall.

You snorted loudly. “No promises there.” You briefly turned towards her again and gave her a small smile. “See you later.”

Your last stop was the small box sitting against the entrance door wall, containing all the car keys. Opening it, you grabbed the key ring for the pickup and made your way outside, glad that the weather was sunny even if the temperature was rather crisp.

Before the whole hour had gone by, Shane joined you at the car, rifle slung over his shoulder as he stalked towards you with a duffle bag in his other hand.

“Where are the keys?” he barked, putting his stuff in the bed of the pickup except for the rifle.

You lifted a fist in front of you and opened the palm, letting the keys dangle from the ring sitting around your finger.

“I’m driving,” you smirked, snapping your hand closed before Shane could get the idea of taking them from you.

“Ah, Christ,” he groused, throwing you a dirty look before heading towards the passenger side and climbing in with the gun.

Grinning in satisfaction at his reaction, you took your seat behind the wheel and started the car. You drove down the small dirt road that led to the gate and found Dale checking the perimeter. He picked up his pace to reach the gate and opened it for you. The older man grinned at you before he noticed Shane, his smile turning into an apprehensive expression. You opened the window as you rolled up to him.

“Rick said you’d be heading out but…” he said as he looked through the window, his voice trailing off. You could still hear the ‘I didn’t know it would be with Shane’ part. “You be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane grumbled with a roll of his eyes, while you just gave Dale a tight smile and a nod.

Nodding in silence, Dale stepped back while you pressed the button to get the window back up and drove through the gate.

“Meddlin’ ol’ man,” Shane muttered to himself, as he stared out his side of the car.

You didn’t say anything, agreeing with him for once.

After driving for a long while in complete silence without meeting any walkers, you turned at an intersection. Shane sat up straighter from the slumped position he'd been in and looked around himself.

“What are you doin'?” he snapped.

You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Driving to the store?” you replied with a tone that clearly stated ‘duh’.

“Exactly. You shouldn’t have turned here. See, this is why I should’ve driven cause-”

“Oh, fuck you, Shane,” you bit back. “FYI, if you’d checked the map, you’d know that this is actually a shortcut. Trust me, this’ll save us at least twenty minutes.”

“Trust you,” he rumbled under his breath, while his eyes kept checking your surroundings.

You lifted your eyes heavenwards and sighed, mentally preparing yourself for his explanation of why he did, in fact, not trust you at all. To your surprise, though, he didn’t say anything else and only put his chin in his palm, his elbow on the door as he looked ahead.

As promised, you arrived at the store earlier than through the original route. Since Shane had accepted your decision without too much complaining, you chose to pay him back by not going ‘I told you so’, like you actually wanted to. Instead, you parked at the gas station and slowly got out of the car, your knife in the hand under the one holding the gun. Throwing a quick glance at Shane, he nodded at you in silent understanding as you both moved to the front of the car and then took each one side of the building to inspect it. You came back to the entrance at about the same time, and Shane pushed the glass door open with a little more noise than necessary to lure any potential walkers out. Shane went in first, while you checked your back before following him inside.

A gurgling sound came from your left. Two walkers slowly stumbled towards you, one in a more advanced state of decay than the other. You and Shane quickly took them out with your knives before you made your way through the couple of aisles to check for any potential items of interest. After several long minutes, in which you did find a few useful things like batteries and the likes, Shane walked up to you with his own large canvas bag in hand.

“Let’s get this ball rollin’, beautiful, and get the gas,” Shane suggested, as he leaned against the aisle you were inspecting with his shoulder and jerked his chin towards the entrance door.

“Don’t call me that,” you huffed in annoyance without looking at him as you put one last item in your bag.

You heard him scoff. “What, you prefer I call you dick or bitch or somethin’?”

Facing him with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you stared at him with an unimpressed expression. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. Shane was someone who easily used endearments and pet names, and you knew that it sometimes just slipped out, but considering your relationship, it simply didn’t sound right.

“Well, at least it would be more honest, wouldn’t it? But how about just calling me by my actual name?”

Shane gave you a long look before he shook his head and laughed through his nose.

“Y’know, just ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ pain in the ass and I could sometimes…” He made a strangling motion that had you actually snorting because that feeling sure did go both ways. “Don’ change the fact that you are.”

“Are what?” you asked suspiciously.

“Beautiful.” He shrugged and gave you a quick once over.

Not having expected that reply at all, your eyebrows lifted high on your forehead. You knew, without a doubt, that he was absolutely honest. Shane wasn’t someone for false pleasantries, and especially not with you.

“Let’s just go get the gas,” you said after a couple of seconds, as you shook your head in bemusement.

Shane only nodded and followed you outside to find the gas cans and cylinders. He drove the rear of the pickup closer to where they were stocked to make loading the car easier. There were quite a few cans left, and you felt lucky that your group had stumbled upon this little town on your way to the farm, the place recluse enough that it hadn’t been fully raided yet. Once you were done with the gas, you jogged across the road to the general store and repeated the same process as before to make sure that there was no threat. This time the coast was clear, and you separated again, with each taking a piece of the list to search for what you needed.

You didn’t know how much time went by, but you did take your time filling the four large bags you had with you. The weather could change any day and the less frequently you needed to leave the farm, the better. Meaning that stocking up as much as possible was the way to go. Seeing how Shane meticulously scanned each aisle, he was thinking the same thing. Coming back to the front of the store, you noticed movement out of your peripheral vision and snapped your attention in that direction. Your eyes widened in terror as you took in what was happening outside.

“Shane,” you hissed urgently, not daring to look away from the large horde that had slowly snuck up on you and was spreading through town. “Shane,” you said more loudly and finally turned to look at him.

The horde was still far enough away that none of the walkers would have been able to hear you, but you weren’t taking any chances.

“What?” he snapped, only for his eyebrows to lower in confusion as he saw your expression.

You saw the second he noticed the horde as his eyes looked past you and they widened like yours had.

“Fuck,” he hissed, while quickly joining you and checking the scene, the two of you crouching down to be out of sight and peaking around the aisle.

“There’s no way we can reach the car,” you muttered before throwing a glance at Shane, who was still looking outside, but nodded in agreement.

You watched the front of the horde surround the pickup as it went past the car and continued ahead of the road.

“They should just walk past us,” Shane said in a low tone, one hand on his rifle anyway, ready to aim.

You were about to hum in agreement, when there was a commotion at the gas station and several loud crashes came from where the gas cans and cylinders stood. A few cylinders rolled into the direction of the store, and you cursed yourselves for leaving the empty ones standing next to the pickup instead of putting them away. Some of the walkers must have knocked into them as they passed. To your horror, the noise caused the horde to shift its focus, and some of the walkers began turning towards the store.

“We gotta move,” you gasped out, as neither of you were able to hide quickly enough and you realized that a handful of walkers had seen you.

To your surprise, Shane shot forward to the entrance, jumping over the register, instead of following you to the back. About to yell at him for his actions, you saw him locking the doors right before a small dozen of walkers crashed against the windows.

“That’s only gonna buy us a little time,” he panted, as he ran back to you and you both grabbed the bags to hurry to the other side of the store.

Sure enough, a few seconds later you could hear thudding sounds coming from the front, as well as cracking glass. If the whole horde pressed against the front side, the glass panels would shatter underneath the pressure, and they’d be able to get in. As the noises got louder and louder, you tried to keep a level head to think. There was an exit at the back, but it was locked, and you wouldn’t have the time to pry the door open before the walkers got in. Or the noise of you trying to open it would lure others around to stop you from leaving. Shane seemed to come to the same conclusion as he stared at the door and then at you.

“The stairwell’s blocked too,” you sighed, as you leaned against an aisle.

The store had another floor, with private rooms, you guessed, since the door leading to the stairs had a sign with “Private – No entry” on it. Shane nodded in acknowledgement and leaned back across from you. You felt strangely calm at your imminent death.

“Can’t believe I’m going to kick the bucket with you,” you chuckled, as you breathed out slowly.

Shane barked out a sharp laugh. “Could’ve been with Dale,” he smirked, knowing that this was one of the few things you agreed on.

You snorted loudly and nodded. “Mmh, small mercies and all that, I guess. ”

Shane hummed, while you leaned your head back and looked at the ceiling. And frowned. Some of the styrofoam tiles had fallen off, showing the metal of the air vents, the cabling… And a large hole to one side, revealing parts of the stairs above. It looked like the wall the stairwell was in had collapsed for whatever reason, and the fallen debris had caused the ceiling to break through. With several of the aisles knocked over and the general state of the store, you hadn’t bothered to check where the rubble lying on the floor had come from.

“Shane,” you breathed, pointing to the hole in the ceiling.

His eyes followed the direction your finger pointed at, then he turned to get a better view after realizing what you’d seen.

“Come on,” he said urgently, as the first crashes of glass started.

Shane jumped on top of the aisle closest to the opening in the ceiling and reached down a hand for you to pass him the bags. The list fell out of one of your bags and fluttered to the ground. About to grasp Shane’s proffered hand to help you up as well, your eyes picked up one word on the list. The item that you’d been about to get right before you’d seen the horde.

“Be back in a sec,” you yelled, turning tails and running off, ignoring the sounds of the undead as they walked inside.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Shane bellowed after you.

You skidded to a halt in the desired aisle, coming face to face with a walker who stumbled in our direction. With a well-placed hit of your knife to his head, it fell to the floor, leaving you to pick up what you’d come for. Turning around to run back to Shane, your path was blocked by three walkers this time, and others coming from the right. Cursing, you turned to the left and then right again, ducking the outstretched hands of some other walkers following you into the aisle you’d just walked in. One of them managed to grab the back of your coat, but before you could turn and do anything about it, another one came in from your other side. The sound of a gun shot rang through the whole store as Shane aimed from his spot on the aisle, taking out one walker after the other as they came at you. This allowed you to jerk free of the loose grip of the now dead walker and dash towards the back of the store, jumping over bodies and avoiding the moving ones, one arm still holding on to a tall container.

“Move, move, move!” Shane barked at you, as you ran up to him at full speed.

You threw him the container, which he quickly put next to him, before you jumped and caught his hand, the momentum helping him pull you up faster. Shane tugged you upright and shot the walker trying to grab your feet as soon as both of his hands were free again.

“Get the fuck up there!” he yelled over the noise without looking at you.

Shane had managed to stash the bags in the opening and you did the same with the container before you grabbed onto the bars that used to hold the large, styrofoam squares to lift you through the ceiling. It took some maneuvering since you had to move over the vents to get to the hole in the wall, but it was doable. After another shot rang out, you got into the best position to aim at the growing throng of walkers gathering at Shane's feet, the aisle rattling precariously now.

“Move!” you shouted, taking out a walker that was tall and getting too close to Shane for comfort.

Shane looked up and instantly jumped into action, sliding the rifle through the bars to stop it from falling. He smoothly slipped through the ceiling as well and stared down at the groaning and rasping creatures.

“Can you reach the stairs or not?” he asked with his eyes still downcast.

Satisfied that he was safe for now, you put your gun away and started moving further over the vents to reach the stairs. You had to push broken cinder blocks to the side, some falling and taking out other styrofoam squares. It took you a couple of minutes, but you finally managed to squeeze through the opening and land on the stairs. Which led to a closed door at the top.

“Come on.” You stuck your head back through the hole to look down at Shane, the man working to get the bags over the vents and towards you.

You took the bags from him one at a time and grabbed his arm to pull him through as well. He leveled you a questioning stare, one eyebrow lifted, as he saw the closed door. Shrugging, you both made your way towards the door. You reached for the handle with a glance at Shane, who slung the rifle into position. The door was thankfully unlocked and opened with a long creak to reveal a small apartment. You stood inside the door for several seconds, waiting in case something moved towards you. Shane gave you a quick nod, so you stepped over the threshold and checked the place. It looked surprisingly untouched, as if the owner had left before anything happened, or they left at the beginning. Considering the damage in the stairwell, something must have exploded close by, yet thankfully left the apartment undamaged.

“We got water,” you announced with incredulous excitement as you reflexively tested the faucets in the bathroom

“And canned food,” Shane chimed in from the small kitchenette that was sitting to the left of the apartment, while a convertible couch took up the right side with a coffee table and a TV set.

“It’s like a luxury hotel,” you laughed lightly as you ducked your head to drink straight from the faucet.

You heard Shane chuckle at your comparison and hum in agreement. While he retrieved the bags, you walked to the long window in the living area and looked outside.

“Think we’re stuck here for a while,” Shane grumbled after he’d joined you, observing the mass of walkers milling around everywhere.

You nodded with a sigh. If there hadn’t been the incident with the gas cylinders, the horde would have probably walked through town without stopping and you’d have been safe to leave at some point. You would have had to find a different way home, but you would have managed. Now, who knew how long it would take for enough walkers to wander off for you to leave without being at too much of a risk?

“Jackpot,” Shane suddenly exclaimed, having you remove your attention from the window.

You turned to find him holding a camping stove. It wasn’t the safest object to use indoors, but it was perfect to heat some of the cans Shane had found in the pantry. Despite the cold outside and the sun setting, you opened the window a crack to let some fresh air in and evacuate most of the carbon monoxide those kinds of stoves could produce. Shane nodded approvingly at that and turned it on after getting a couple of cans and plates. You’d found a large amount of canned food downstairs, but chose to leave the contents of the bags for the farm for now. Shane also found a few packs of tall candles and lit enough of them once the sun had gone down completely for you to walk through the place comfortably. You ate in silence while you also heated a large bucket of water before you checked the place for blankets and potential toiletries. While you did that, Shane took the hot water into the bathroom to clean up a bit. He came back wearing his jeans and a thick sweater that he got from the store. Before taking his place in the bathroom, your eyes caught onto his damp hair and beard, and the way the sweater hugged his broad shoulders and trim waist. Looking away and shaking your head, you closed the door while Shane looked through the items you’d both taken and reorganized them in the bags to make them easier to carry. With a pile of blankets in hand and feeling much better after getting to take the day’s filth off and dressing into fresh clothes as well, you found Shane sitting on the couch and staring down at the container you’d run back for.

“You risked your life for baby formula,” he stated, his voice giving nothing away, the fire of the candle creating flickering lights on his profile.

“We’re nearly out and Judith still needs it,” you shrugged, busying yourself with unfolding the blankets.

“Do you ever think before you act?” Shane growled at how you dismissed his words.

“What?” you ground out, facing him again. You must have heard him wrong, right?

“What’s the point of pullin’ a stunt like that if it gets you killed?”

“It didn’t, did it, though?”

“Because I was there to cover your sorry ass.”

You threw your hands in the air and sighed explosively.

“Ugh, this is why I don’t like teaming up with you. You always complain about things that might have happened.”

“No, what you don’t like it that I’m the only one remindin’ you that your actions can have fuckin’ consequences for you or even for all of us. You – don't – think. You just do your thing and expect us to go with it.”

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, Shane. Bossing everyone around and just deciding for everyone what’s best.” You strode up to him and stared him down.

He rose to his feet and met your hard gaze head on.

“Yeah, but I let people know before I do somethin’. But that’s what you don’t like, right? You're too good, too clever to bother listenin’ to others, let alone me.”

“Only because you treat me like I’m some fucking idiot little girl. I’ve gone through just as much shit as you before we got to the farm, but you act like I know shit…”

“No, no, no, I don’t treat you like some fuckin’ idiot little girl. If anythin’, I treat you like a fuckin’ idiot, period. Woman or not, I don’t give a shit. You’re a fuckin’ piece of work, is what you are. You’re so fuckin’ hot headed and stubborn, you just always expect whatever I say to be some kinda bullshit.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Cause you keep underestimating me. No matter what I say or do, you never trust me from the start… Fuck!” you spat, your temper flaring white-hot. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Shane watched you intently as you ranted at him, his mouth pulling up into a lopsided smirk.

“Yeah… but you wanna know what pisses you off even more about all this?” Shane asked, his voice lowering as he leaned towards you, his head tilting to one side.

“Oh, please, do enlighten me,” you scoffed with sarcasm dripping all over your words, but didn’t pull your head away.

“No matter how much you might hate me… you still wanna fuck me.”

“What?!” you choked on your laugh as you stared at him incredulously. What the hell?

“Come on, you don’t think I noticed, but I see the way you look at me.” He lifted an eyebrow with his smirk still in place.

“And how exactly do I look at you, pray tell?” you snorted, your mouth pulling up in amusement despite yourself. That wasn’t how you had expected the argument to go.

Shane nodded his head from one side to the other as if he were thinking about his answer.

“Definitely like you wanna fight me… but preferably in a bed,” he leered, to which you rolled your eyes with another snort.

“Hm, you sound awfully sure of yourself,” you humored him with a chuckle, resisting the desire to cross your arms, not wanting to look defensive.

Shane’s eyes slowly roved over your whole body. Then he moved just slightly closer until your faces were only a few inches apart.

“Well, haven’t heard you denyin’ it even once, have I?” he rumbled in a low voice.

You held his gaze defiantly but remained silent as your heartbeat picked up speed.

“I’m sure you thought of a couple o’ ways to… settle our disagreements,” Shane continued, grinning knowingly. That smug bastard.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But I’m not sure you’d like some of the ideas I had,” you hedged, your tone light but your gaze between cutting and sultry.

Shane laughed under his breath.

“Ah, come on, Darlin’. Tell me what got your pussy all wet while thinkin' o’ me?”

Heat slowly spread through your face and body at his crass words and direct approach.

“Did you think ‘bout ridin’ my face to shut me up?”

You managed to school your expression into being neutrally entertained, since Shane had hit dead center with this one. Hearing him speak your most private fantasies out loud had you breathing faster. You’d thought about riding that stupidly beautiful mouth and nose a few times, for sure, but you weren't going to admit to that.

“Or maybe you’d be so good at suckin’ my cock with that pretty mouth of yours that I'd stop talkin'.”

Smirking and shaking your head, you inclined your head to one side. “To me, it rather sounds like you thought about it quite a bit.” You’d meant for it to come out as a taunt, but your voice came out more breathy, Shane’s words getting to you.

Shane drew his tongue over the edge of his upper teeth. “Yeah… Maybe I have,” he replied slowly.

You both stood like that, eyes locked and breathing fast, as if in a sort of stand-off; one waiting for the other to move or say something. To give in. You didn't know how long you stood like that, the anticipation rising until it was practically unbearable. You wanted Shane, you could admit it to yourself, but to him? And what about Shane? Despite what he’d said, did he really—

Then Shane’s eyes fell to your mouth.

As if that look triggered everything into action, you were suddenly on each other, kissing and biting at each other’s mouths. You wouldn’t be able to know who moved first, but something between you had finally snapped with that one look. Hands fisted in shirts and hair or flew over chests and asses, your bodies in constant movement as every moment of conflict between the two of you poured out in that instant. You each fought for dominance, but neither was willing to give in, and it didn’t really matter anyway. It certainly didn’t matter to you. You only needed more of this. It felt incredibly liberating to push against Shane in that way and have him pushing back with just as much strength; just the feeling of his beard scraping against your mouth and chin had your nerve endings on fire. Both sets of hands simultaneously went to the buttons of each pair of jeans, fingers grappling to get them open as fast as possible before you’d even removed your sweaters. Your lips never stopped their hungry and vicious exploration of each other’s mouths as you both shimmied out of your jeans and underwear before stepping out of them. You took the opportunity of Shane getting a foot caught in one pant leg to push him down on the couch. He’d unfolded it into a bed while you’d been in the bathroom, meaning that he had to brace himself with his hands behind himself so he wouldn’t fall flat on his back. With a smirk, you straddled his lap and crushed your mouth into his again. Shane growled and caught you without missing a beat as he sat up and pulled you further down. His hands squeezed your ass as soon as you could feel his hard dick pressing into your crotch. Slightly rocking your hips and sliding yourself over his length – of course that asshole had to have a dick as big as his ego – your hands went to the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up and off, your lips parting for a brief second. A moment later, Shane did the same with your top. Except not entirely. Instead of pulling it off as you lifted your arms, Shane twisted the fabric around your wrists into a sort of bind, stopping you from freeing your hands. He kept you like that, your hands held behind your head before he tugged them back a bit more, forcing you to arch your back, which pushed your chest out. You were now fully naked and sitting astride Shane, but barely able to move. The various candles around you lit up his face and his wolfish grin right before he bent his head towards your breasts. You groaned as he wrapped his lips around one nipple and sucked on it hard. He bit and sucked, nibbled and pinched at each of them, his free hand playing with the one his mouth wasn’t focused on and drawing moans and small cries out of you.

As much as you enjoyed his mouth and beard on your breasts, you refused to stay bound and unable to move. While Shane was leaving marks all over your chest, you wiggled and twisted your wrists until you were able to slip one hand free. Obviously, had it been a serious situation, you doubted that you’d have been able to get out of Shane’s hold that easily. Between his distraction and the loose fabric of the sweater, however, you soon had a hand between your legs and on his dick. Shane jerked in your hold, his head lifting to your face while he let go of your other hand. Planting your knees more firmly on the bed and putting your weight forward, you pressed at his shoulders with both hands this time, until he fell onto his back.

“Got some ideas?” he smirked, his tongue dancing over his top lip.

“Didn’t you say something about shutting you up?” you asked conversationally, as you pressed a biting kiss to his mouth, before you swiftly moved up his body until your knees were at each side of his head.

The way Shane’s eyes lit up as he caught the meaning of your words had your pulse racing in your chest and heat pooling in your center. He apparently had really thought about this scenario before as well. His arms wrapped around your thighs as you lowered yourself over his face. With parted lips, you looked down as you slid your folds over his lips and up over his nose. That ridiculously gorgeous nose. Maybe broad and faintly crooked, but this combined with the slope of it was what made it perfect for exactly what you were doing. It felt even better than what you’d pictured while getting yourself off. Between the physical stimulation and the view, you weren’t surprised to find his nose and mouth already coated in your juices.

“You're so much easier to be around when your mouth's busy with something else,” you teased, as you repeated the motion with relish.

Shane shot you a look that had you bracing yourself for an attack, expecting him to hold you still as he ate you out harshly, but he took you by surprise once again. He did hold you in place, but his tongue oh so slowly slid through your lips, parting them, running around them, teasing your entrance before dragging the tip up to your clit with the faintest of touches. With the addition of his beard that he was rubbing maddeningly over your sensitive skin, this actually drove you wilder than if he’d gone fast and hard. Especially, since his eyes never left yours, him watching you watching him. As he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it with intent for the first time, he stared at you avidly, clearly getting off on the way your mouth opened further on a long cry of pleasure as you flung your head back in bliss. Leaning your head forward again, you fisted a hand in his hair and pulled his head back to rock your hips into his face harder.

“Fuck yes, there we go, just like that,” you moaned, picking up speed as you rode his face for real this time when two of his fingers pushed inside you.

The sensations were incredible as you moved up over his mouth and back down onto his thick fingers, the beard meeting them in the middle. But you needed to wipe that smug look off his face anyway, even as you felt the first signs of your release nearing.

“Mmh… I already liked you better with a beard ‘cause I don’t have to see half your stupid face, but this is a much better way to do it. Look how pretty you are now with my pussy hiding your face,” you taunted right after Shane managed to get another long moan out of you.

As expected, Shane glowered at you, which had you grinning in satisfaction. Except that you cried out in part shock and part outrage a few seconds later as Shane pressed the first knuckle of his thumb inside your ass, the finger wet with your essence.

“You fucking asshole.” You slapped the top of his head, while Shane laughed darkly against your thigh, before he caught your wrist as you came back for more.

“More like your asshole, Darlin’,” he sneered before continuing. “Thought you’d enjoy it with how you always seem to have a stick up your ass.”

Growling at him, you tugged at the arm he was holding, intending to hit him again, but Shane held strong this time, and instead, he used his shoulders to unsettle you and flip you onto your back next to him. You landed with a gasp and barely had the time to see him slipping between your legs. Since your mouth was still partly open from your hard breathing, it took Shane no effort to press two fingers between your lips and press them against your tongue.

“Suck,” he ordered, his eyes dark, as he leaned over you, his body pressing yours down.

You had half a mind to refuse, but it was the fact that you were sure that he was expecting that from you that had you doing as told. The flavor bursting on your tongue had you realizing that those fingers were the ones that had been inside you just a few moments ago. Keeping eye contact, you moaned around Shane’s fingers as you sucked and pulled at them, and felt satisfied by the answering groan you got in return.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Shane cried out a second later, as he pulled his fingers back, which you’d just bitten.

You grinned. You never said that you’d do what he wanted all the way.

Growling and twisting his fingers in your hair, Shane kissed you harshly, his tongue fighting yours as he moved on his knees to shift his hips closer to yours. Feeling him reaching between your legs to guide himself inside you, you suddenly pushed at him.

“Wait, wait… Not like that,” you breathed quickly. “Condoms. We should,” you trailed off at Shane’s nod of agreement, which you felt glad about because, as much as you hated to break the flow, there was no way that you were taking any chances.

“Hold on.” Shane got off the couch and quickly rifled through one of the grocery bags.

You watched him pull out a foil package and tear it open before he fitted the condom over his cock and knelt back between your parted legs. The way he touched you then and stared down at you irritated you. It wasn’t enough. It was too slow, too… You needed more of what was happening before.

You slapped him, the smack resounding in the small apartment.

“Don’t you dare go soft on me now, Walsh,” you hissed.

The slap had barely gotten Shane’s face to move, but it had the desired effect. His eyes flashed in warning, which only had you grinning devilishly, before he snarled and one of his hands went to your neck. The fingers curled around your throat, squeezing just that tiny bit that had you gasping in a sharp breath.

“You never know went to fuckin’ stop,” he rasped viciously.

Before you could reply, Shane pushed his hips forward and breached your entrance. He slid in with a long thrust, not bothering to give you any time to adjust to the sudden overwhelming feeling of being so full before he was pounding you into the bed. Your fingers scrabbled to get a hold on his shoulders as you screamed, while Shane slid his arms under your knees to pull your legs further apart and fold you almost in two.

It felt amazing. Shane fucked you with brute force, his hips slapping against your ass, but the way he was staring down at you, focused on your expression, showed that he wasn’t only aiming for his own release.

“That what you wanted, Sweetheart? Huh? Me fuckin’ that pretty pussy hard?” he whispered roughly against your lips, his beard tickling your skin.

You took hold of his face and kissed him deeply in reply, moaning into his mouth with his every thrust.

“Make me scream, Shane,” you half ordered and half begged, your voice low with want. “Do it.”

With lust sparking inside his eyes, Shane reared back briefly only to throw your legs over his shoulders, and actually fold you in two this time as he picked up his earlier pace. A loud scream escaped you at the first plunge back inside you, followed by another and another. With his hands now free, one of Shane’s hands returned to your throat, the touch sending shivers down your spine as he fucked you without ever missing a beat, his eyes fixed on yours. You came completely undone a few moments later, the sheer force and intensity of Shane’s thrusts throwing you over the edge and into an orgasm that had you crying out as you could only take what Shane was giving you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Shane chanted as you tightened some more around him, his movements losing their rhythm for a moment. “So fuckin’ gorgeous like this, fuck!”

You had your eyes shut as the wave of bliss ran over you, but you forced them open when you felt Shane start to shudder on top of you. You needed to see him come, just like he had wanted to see you. Meeting his gaze, which never seemed to have left your face, you slid your legs from his shoulders and brought them to his still moving hips, and squeezed.

Shane came with a long hiss of pleasure, his eyes fighting to stay open as you watched each other.

You remained unmoving as you panted and stared at each other, Shane braced on top of you with his forearms at your shoulders while your hands held on to his biceps. Now that the heat of the moment had gone, you began to feel how cold it was getting in the room.

After a few more silent seconds, Shane got up without a word and turned away. Exhaling a small breath at the complete change in mood, you rolled off the bed to vanish into the bathroom, picking up your clothes in passing. You used some of the now tepid water remaining from earlier to clean up and caught a glimpse of your messy and fucked out appearance in the mirror.

“What now?” you muttered to yourself as you stared at your reflection and dressed quickly.

You shook your head decisively a second later. No, this didn't change anything. It was just sex, nothing more. It had been good, more than good, but that was it. You weren't suddenly going to get along only because you'd fucked once. Shane had to be thinking the same, of that you were certain.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you found Shane, fully dressed once more, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over his rifle as he checked it on the coffee table by the light of a couple of candles. He'd also made the bed, and you headed for the side closest to the wall. Shane didn't look up, but it didn’t seem like he was trying to avoid you. You felt a certain measure of relief at that. No awkwardness. Good.

With how soon it got dark in winter, you didn't know how late it was exactly, but you felt suddenly kind of exhausted. You wrapped the covers around yourself to stave off the cold, and turned on your side to face the wall, your eyes staring ahead for a moment before you closed them.

“For what it’s worth,” Shane started after several minutes of silence. “I do trust you.”

Your eyes opened at that, landing on the wall again as you stayed where you were.

“It’s just-” he continued, and you snorted this time, turning on your back to find him facing towards you and not the rifle anymore. You raised an eyebrow; of course there was a but. “You tend to let your emotions get the best of you… Like today, you…” he sighed, and you decided to wait him out before biting back. “Listen, I get it, okay? What you did for Judith? You know I’d do anythin’ for her ‘n Carl. But… I quickly realized that, in this world, you gotta make hard decisions in order to survive. Take a step back from your feelings, analyze, and then act… I know you think I’m an asshole about it, but it’s helped us survive through a lot of bad shit, cause people don’ play by the previous rules anymore,” he paused for a second as he stared at you. “But really? Most of all, all I’m askin’ you is that you talk to me before you run off like you did. Askin’ me to cover you or somethin’, y’know? Warn me.”

Rolling onto your side to face Shane, you rose on an elbow and held your head up with one hand.

“You’re right,” you admitted after a beat of silence. You were aware that you let your emotions dictate a lot of your decisions, and that it wasn’t always a clever thing. As he’d said, in this world, things were different. Especially playing it solo like you’d done earlier. Now that things had calmed down, you knew that you could have died in the store had Shane not been as quick to react has he had. “Next time I’ll give you a heads-up.”

Shane hummed in satisfaction, and you grinned.

“But,” you intoned, and Shane huffed out a snort. “As much as I get what you mean, sometimes you can’t ignore your gut feeling. When you just know that something’s up, that the split second decision you’ll make is what’s going to mean either life or death. Sometimes you don’t have the time to analyze anything.”

Shane watched you thoughtfully but nodded in agreement.

“Look at us, agreeing on somethin’,” he chuckled as he put the rifle down next to the bed and got up.

“Don’t get used to it,” you smirked up at him. “It’s not because we fucked once that we’re not going to fight anymore.”

Shane barked out a loud laugh. “I wasn’t expectin’ anything less. The opposite would’ve surprised me more.”

Laughing as well, you watched Shane head into the bathroom and fell to your back again, your eyes closing. You briefly woke to the candles being extinguished and the bed dipping as Shane got in, but you only shifted under the covers and rolled to your other side.

The next time you woke, late morning light was shining through the apartment window. Shane was standing next to it and looking outside. Stretching as you got out of bed, you quickly headed to the bathroom to take care of morning business before you joined Shane.

“What’s the situation?” you asked as you looked outside as well and found far fewer walkers stumbling around in the parking lot.

“This side looks okay, but we don’t know how it looks where the car is,” Shane grumbled. “This floor's not that high, but it’s gonna be a bit of a pain to get outta here if we can’t go back the other way.”

Your mouth twisted in thought, and you were about to suggest that you should go check over the vent, when something crackled with static inside your coat that was lying on a nearby chair. Shane and you stared at each other with wide eyes before you launched yourself at the coat, scrambling to find the walkie-talkie you always carried in case you needed to split up. Shane must have switched his off, but you’d completely forgotten that you’d let yours on. And if it wasn’t Shane talking through it, then it was someone from the farm, and they were close by.

“Hey … or Shane? Do … guys copy? Over. ”

It was Jasmine’s voice. With a relieved glance in Shane’s direction, you finally got the device out and pressed the talk button.

“Hey, Jas, we’re right here. Over”

“Oh, thank God. We were so worried when we got home and you hadn’t come back. Where exactly are you? There are a lot of walkers around here. Over. ”

“We ran into a horde and now we’re stuck on the second floor of the store. The main access’s blocked. If you drive to the parking lot at the back of the store, we’ll be able to see you. Over.” You walked back to the window and looked outside.

“Okay, we’ll be there soon. Over. ”

“Let’s make a rope with the sheets and get the bags down first,” Shane suggested as he opened the window to the cold winter air.

Nodding, you both quickly put on your shoes and remaining clothes and each took a sheet to knot it with another. You felt the sudden need to laugh at the moment, feeling like you were in a bad movie and trying to escape prison.

Shane was just done with the makeshift ropes when you heard an engine getting closer and looked through the window to see a blue pickup driving up to the store. You waved at Jasmine, who was accompanied by Hunter. A few walkers came closer as Hunter drove the back of the pickup towards the building, but Jasmine opened her side of the car and used her knife to silently kill them. Hunter jumped out of his side and you saw Jasmine slipping back into the car and into the driver’s seat as her boyfriend lifted himself into the bed of the pickup to receive the first bag of groceries. You made quick work, only stopping a couple of times to get rid of a few more walkers. With the last bag down, Hunter untied the rope so you could get down yourselves. Shane had wrapped the sheets around a long and thick rod of iron that he’d found in the debris in the corridor. It was longer than the width of the window so you could slide down the rope without fearing that it would slip free. Shane let you go first. As Shane had said, the floor wasn’t high and it took little effort to get into the pickup. Shane followed you quickly, and Hunter hit the roof of the car to indicate for Jasmine to drive. She drove towards the other side of the store and towards your own pickup. You jumped out at the side of the gas station and watched Hunter join Jasmine again before they were off and honking to get the walkers’ attention. It worked as intended, and soon enough you were able to run towards your car and climb inside.

“Did you use the shortcut? Over,” you asked through the walkie-talkie, while Shane put the key in the ignition and started the car.

“No, we’re driving east for now. You were talking about a horde earlier and I think that’s what we saw on the shortcut so we backtracked. Over,” Hunter explained, as Shane swerved through the walkers to join your two friends and follow behind them.

“Okay, east it is. See you at home. Over and out.”

It took you an extra hour to get back to the farm, but you made sure that you wouldn’t lead any walkers back with you. Nicole, who was standing on the porch steps and watching you pull up, drew you into a bear hug as soon as you were out of the car. You smiled into the side of her neck as you squeezed her back.

The rest of your family came out of the large house as well. Judith was sitting on her father’s hip and sucking on a pacifier while Carl came running towards Shane.

“Hey, baby girl,” Shane cooed, as he approached father and daughter, kissing her tiny head after he’d hugged Carl and ruffled his hair.

“You guys okay?” Rick asked, scanning the both of you for injuries.

“Yeah, we’re good, don’t worry,” Shane said, as he walked up the steps and started explaining what had happened to the people following him.

“And here I thought that you’d finally killed each other,” Nicole said, laughing at her joke as you began walking up the porch steps with her.

You smiled and hummed, faking a serious look. “It was a near miss,” you grinned as you entered the crowded kitchen.

Shane was drinking down a tall glass of water, and your eyes met over the glass.

“What was a near miss?” Maggie asked from her perch on a stool.

“Before they left, I was joking about them trying to not kill each other and I thought that they might have failed when they didn’t come back,” Nicole explained with a small chuckle and got an amused snort from everyone.

“Yeah,” Shane laughed under his breath. “Sure was a near miss.”

You looked at each other for a second, faces impassive, but you were both clearly thinking about the same thing. Then the moment passed, and Shane continued the story like nothing ever happened.

After all, it had only been a one-time thing…

#beardthalbash #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh x female reader #shane walsh #the walking dead #shane walsh fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #shane walsh smut #mes fics #Jon Bernthal #full fic

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stevesworld96 · 8 months

Text

look at me now (part two)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

steve visits you before the vecna fight.

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve.

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, kissing, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, mentions of death and injuries, steve retells canon events and deaths, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part one!!!

word count: 9280

Steve didn't call you the next morning.

You waited until noon. By that time morning was officially over, and your phone still hadn’t rang.

It was hard not to be upset about it after what happened the night before. You were just about to kiss him, and he knew it. Maybe after a night of sleep, he woke up regretting it.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t call.

If you didn’t talk to him, you would go mad with assumptions. If you thought about it long enough, you’d break your own heart.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Steve could be forgetful. It’s possible that it slipped his mind, or Robin was still feeling unwell.

But if there was some other reason, you needed to hear it as soon as possible.

Before your evening shift at Roses you stopped by Family Video. You visited him there often, so he wouldn’t be amiss seeing you - hopefully.

When you walked into the video store, the sound of the bell had four heads snapping in your direction. You searched for the eyes you came here to see, and you didn’t notice the rogue tape on the floor that caught your foot. Robin, Dustin, Max, and Steve watched you trip, and you stuttered back to steady feet.

The two kids were behind the counter at the computer. There was a mess on the floor. Everyone was staring at you like you had turned into something terrifying after walking inside.

The three of them started whispering to Steve, Robin being the loudest. You caught, “go make her leave,” and, “why is she here?”

And you didn’t understand, and Steve was shuffling toward you like a fast-paced robot, and something felt seriously off.

Still, you smiled at him, something forced. “Hey.”

“Hey. Look - we - we’re closing early today, so…”

He was trying to walk you toward the door. You wanted to know why.

“Oh, well - I just wanted to come see you before work. You didn’t call like you said you would.”

“I know, I know.” He looked over his shoulder at the group behind him. They all made different faces and shooing motions. “You need to go, alright? You can’t be here right now.”

“Steve?”

You had made it to the door and he opened it for you. And he was giving you no sympathy in the way he looked at you, his features hard as stone.

“Did I - is this about last night?”

“No. It’s nothing to do with you, okay?” You didn’t believe him, and he didn’t try convincing you. Instead he pushed you through the threshold. “Just go. Go to work, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Why are you doing this? Just tell me, Steve, seriously. I can handle it.”

The way he sighed was dramatic, closing his eyes and hanging his head, but it was real. Annoyance and frustration, that’s what it was - two things he never directed at you. At least, not anymore.

“Please. Just listen to me, for once. Please just go. I can’t talk to you right now.”

You didn’t have a choice, really. The other option was standing there and arguing with him, and you had a feeling he didn’t have a fight in him.

So you left. You heard the door close as soon as you turned your back.

He didn’t even watch you go.

The closer you got to your car, the more your throat burned. It was all a literal blur, with tears creating clouds in your vision.

Visiting him had done the exact opposite of your goal. It made things worse, somehow, even though everything was fine five minutes ago.

What the hell had happened between last night and right now? What could you have done?

Did Steve change his mind that fast?

You thought about last night and the way that you felt. Your hands shaking, heart beating, mind racing - it was the same now, but with a pit in your stomach and tear tracks on your face.

It didn’t seem fair. He didn’t have to be so cold.

Why were they all being so cold?

Maybe you had walked in on some important meeting. Max could have been telling them a secret, or Dustin could have been indulging an embarrassing story - or Steve could have been telling them what you had done last night.

That’s what he meant when he said he didn’t want to fuck things up. Because he knew how you felt - because you weren’t hiding it at all - and he didn’t feel the same.

And that’s why he didn’t call - because he was afraid to tell you.

Because everything would change. Again.

You felt it already in the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the same as it used to be.

And maybe it would only get worse.

...

Sundays were always the same. That was the only thought that got you through the mess of the day before.

No matter what happened throughout the week, there was always a reliable refuge on Sunday.

But Dustin’s bike wasn’t in its usual place on the edge of Steve’s yard. And Steve’s car wasn’t in his driveway.

You were too shy to call, even though you knew he wasn’t home to pick up. Part of you wanted to call Family Video in case he’d taken a shift - just to hear his voice - but you couldn’t bear it. If you embarrassed yourself in front of him again, you’d never live it down.

The worst part was knowing this could be all in your head. You could be putting yourself through emotional hell for nothing.

But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

Monday morning there was still no sign of Steve.

It was like there was something pent up inside of you that you could never get out - is this how he felt when you spent a week avoiding him? Confused, and lonely, and hurt?

All you wanted to do was go back in time and stop yourself from ruining everything.

Tuesday night brought a simmering heat that you wanted to boil over. The sadness ebbed, giving you a break from your self loathing and doubt, making room for a burning anger. One so hot it brought you to tears.

It was all so unfair. He spent so long convincing you he cared, only to show you unequivocally that he didn’t.

And you never should have let him back in, and you definitely shouldn’t have gotten close enough for your heart to break.

You tossed and turned for days, blaming yourself then him, never able to make up your mind.

More and more, it seemed like nothing mattered. There had to be something he wasn’t telling you. You couldn’t change anything, even if you kept crying or hoping or overthinking. You had given up hope that he would simply turn up at your door.

Of course, you still wished he would.

It was Wednesday evening when you finally got what you wanted.

The sun had just barely set, bathing that spring day in a light navy that was destined to get darker. That’s when a knock echoed from your door and you found Steve’s apologetic eyes behind it.

As you looked at him, the emotions you felt through the week rewinded. Acceptance, dread, anger - denial, shame, sadness - it all ran through like rushing water, leaving you with a pounding heart and unsteady hands.

Your lips parted for no words to pass through them. He was getting uncomfortable under your stare so you dropped it to the floor and rebuilt your resolve.

“What are you doing here?”

“I really needed to see you.”

His voice wasn’t soft. It was almost demanding, the way he said it. Urgent.

“Can I come in?”

You didn’t reply; you turned and walked inside, expecting him to follow. Heavy footfall echoed in your hallway stalking you to your kitchen.

You kept your back to him because you didn’t have the energy for a face-off. You’d rather pretend to look interested in the newspaper that sat on the counter in front of you.

“What’s up?” you asked, playing nonchalant.

“I really don’t have a lot of time,” he said. You heard him tapping the marble kitchen island countertop.

“Okay…”

“I know you’re mad. I know I forgot to call, and I’ve been gone, but I can’t explain anything. Not right now, maybe… not ever.”

“Then… why are you here?” A genuine question.

“Because -”

A crack in his voice brought silence that was louder than a crowded room; one where you could hear his deep breathing stutter.

He was probably trying to find the right thing to say. Something that would make you forgive him instantly - words sweeter than a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter. You already decided you weren’t going to fall for it.

“Because I needed to see you. That’s it.”

“Steve.”

“Can you look at me? Please?” And it wasn’t urgency this time, but desperation.

You turned to face him but your gaze stuck to the floor. He planted himself on steel toed combat boots that you had never seen him wear before.

“I know you’re pissed off and I know it’s unfair, but can you pretend to not be? For two minutes? Because I - I didn’t come here to fix it. But I had to see you while I had time.”

It had you sneaking up his frame, curiosity taking the place of boldness as you put together the pieces of what he was wearing.

He looked dressed for war, or to go play pretend army man.

Dark green cargo pants that would have been too big without the tight belt tying them to his waist.

Some kind of kevlar vest was over the brown leather of a jacket with patches all down the arms, all of them representing something American militaristic.

Dirt coated fists, up to his wrists and you were sure passed. On his face from his ears to under his eyes, his forehead down to his neck.

His neck, a nasty welt wrapped all the way around it twice. Dark red in its obvious freshness, splotchy in a need to be cared for, cleaned, disinfected. It looked like he had gotten into something bad, and there were no clues for who had given him such an ugly injury.

You stared, and your nails cut your palms, and you spoke too loud when you said, “What did you do?”

He knew what you were referring to, looking down as if he could see it. You watched as his lips tried to form words of defense that never came.

“Did you - did you -”

“No.”

“Steve.”

“If I told you what happened, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me.”

“Next time I’m here, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

You hadn’t noticed you had stepped closer to him until you had his eyes in yours, looking at you like he meant every word.

“You’re scaring me, Steve.”

“I know. I know, I’m sorry.”

He checked his watch, then sighed.

He stuttered over his words like he didn’t know what he was saying. “We - Robin and some others, we’re - we’re - we’re going out of town tonight. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll let you know, okay? I’ll call you.”

“I don’t understand -”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey, I’m sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes for a second, like he could buff out the stress in them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Your concern only grew as he took a small step backwards.

“Steve, you - can’t you just stay here with me? Why do you have to go?”

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, okay?” It sounded like he was trying to soothe himself rather than you. “I’ll be back.”

You called his name, trying to stop him, but he turned from you.

“I won’t forget to call you this time, okay?”

You took those steps toward him, you reached out to grab him, but he walked out of your reach. When he got to the doorway, he stopped. He stood still for just a moment, and then he was turning again.

He looked like he had made a decision, and then he was coming back to you.

And when he was in reach, you took hold of him. You pulled him in and he was all around you, hugging the life out of you, trying to squeeze all the worry out of you.

You pulled away just enough to look at him. His jaw fit in the palm of your hand like you were his mold. You held him as gently as you could, and you pulled him in, and you didn’t stop pulling until his lips hit yours.

It was a kiss that should have happened days ago - maybe a long time before that. One that was brand new but still familiar; you could smell his cologne underneath leather, you felt his hands on your waist squeezing tight.

You kissed him only just, and you felt overwhelmed with how much emotion you were trying to pour into it.

When you pulled away, big hands held the sides of your face and brought you back. Your neck craned so he could kiss you how he wanted to for a second time; a messy mesh that made things feel okay, just for that moment.

And it didn’t last long enough, because nothing so good ever did. When he broke it off he dropped his hold on you and walked away, slowly and then too fast. And that was it, and he was gone, and you wanted to chase after him but you were stuck where you stood.

It wasn’t fair.

I needed to see you, he had said, but he couldn’t even give a reason. You had no idea how selfish he was being.

You wouldn’t even look at him. And when you did, it was like you were scared of him. And you were angry, and he couldn’t fix a fucking thing - not when the weight of this town was on his shoulders.

He wiped the taste of you off his lips and pulled on the winnebago’s door until it creaked open.

Because I may never see you again, is what he wanted to say. He wanted to give you a reason. He wanted to rip himself apart, there in your kitchen; show you the fresh wounds and the healed scars and the blood stains. He wanted to fall and cry and forget, without feeling bad for hoping you’d catch him.

He walked into that god awful RV, sat in the driver’s seat, and started driving without so much as a second thought.

And he was scared even though he couldn’t be. It was like his heart skipped a beat - he felt it falling out of his chest, into his stomach. A flash of cold crept up his spine until his hands were ice. Open wounds on his back, chest, arms all throbbed, drumming a beat that was fiercely alive. A reminder he appreciated.

A deep breath was all it took, and every punch he had ever thrown played in his mind. Every swing, strike, and scream. All of them landing back on him.

He’d do it all again, tonight, because he had to. He didn’t sign up for it. And it wasn’t fucking fair. But he made his choice, and this was it.

And this time, Steve didn’t know who would come out of it alive.

So maybe it was selfish to ask the group if he could make a pitstop at your house when there was something bigger looming. And maybe it was unfair, because nobody else got to say their just in case goodbyes.

But he wouldn’t feel bad. He couldn’t, because every time he closed his eyes he was being dragged underwater, he felt that bat’s tail tightening around his throat, he heard the sound of teeth digging into his own flesh.

It was that jolt of helplessness, all over again, ten times worse.

It was nobody coming to help him.

It was being left for dead, to rot in the stomach of monsters he couldn’t fight off.

He could hear his own last words.

And he saw Robin at your front door telling you what happened with no explanation. You asking questions that would never be answered - being angry at him forever, because he didn’t call like he said he would. He saw you living without him - himself dying without you.

But he opens his eyes, and he’s still here. Driving down a winding road to some place that might be the death of him and all his friends. And he’s still breathing, and he feels you holding him like he’s worth more than the dirt and blood he’s covered in, and it’s enough. It has to be.

…

You wondered if your lips would ever stop buzzing - if the butterflies in your stomach would finally die. Neither happened by morning, and you were sure you were cursed to feel them forever.

There was no sense to be made out of the conversation you had with Steve the night before. The army gear he wore was confusing enough - the wounds he had and the words he spoke had your mind going haywire.

And you could do nothing but wait, and ask yourself the same questions. You spent your time finding distractions and not thinking too hard.

One day turned into two, and missing him never got comfortable. Concern sat in your chest like a rock. You couldn’t even look in the direction of his house without a chill going up your spine, and you had to sleep with the radio on to keep your mind from racing.

You couldn’t think. You didn’t want to.

Because - what if he wasn’t coming back?

You didn’t know, but you really wished he would have taken you with him to wherever he was going. If he was running away, he should have known you’d want to go, too.

Two days turned into four.

You weren’t okay until you saw him again.

It was his car pulling up in front of your house. You were out checking the mailbox when you heard the sound of an engine; you glanced over your shoulder, not expecting it to be his car, but when you realized, it felt like you had been run over by it.

Mail landed on the grass as your slipper caught the curb. His door opened and you were there, already on him, bouncing on your toes to wrap yourself around his neck. He caught you.

“Where the fuck have you been?” You breathed the words out. “Oh my god.”

“I’m sorry,” but he didn’t sound it. He sounded happier than ever.

It was purely opposite to how he spoke to you days ago. The grim in his words was gone, as was the grime. He was clean, and he had slept, and he was right there in your arms.

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” you said. You didn’t notice you were crying until you saw tears dripping into his sweater. “You aren’t leaving again.”

He wobbled around until you were pressed up against his car door, your hug becoming even tighter.

“I’m sorry. I’m not leaving, I promise.”

“Never,” you said, and he laughed. “What happened, Steve? Are you going to tell me?”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, and you found him with his eyes shut tight.

“No.”

The wound on his neck was more of a bruise, now, dark reds and purples painting his skin like a necklace. You wondered how long it would be there - if there’d always be a scar. Time would tell.

He continued, “No - not right now. I don’t want to talk about it,” and you pulled him back into you, hugging him tight. “Not yet.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said, offering the patience he was asking you for. “I don’t care. Just don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m so happy. Missed you so fucking much, you have no idea.”

You wondered if you could stand right there in the street hugging him forever. In his arms, til the end of time, letting cars drive by and the seasons change around you, nothing ever pulling you apart. Never having anything between you again.

“Stay with me tonight,” you said. It was quiet, and it was a desperate beg. “Please. Can you?”

“I don’t know...”

He was pulling back and you didn’t want him to, but the way his big hand held your face had you reeling.

“I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“Just one night?”

He was pushing your hair back like he wanted it out of the way - like he needed it out of your face so he could get a better look at you. And his eyes roamed over you like it was the first time he’d ever seen you.

“I want to. I have to check on Dustin, later, and Nance - and Max, in the morning.”

You shoved your face back into his shoulder. He was here, but he wasn’t here to stay. And he had no answers for your questions. And, maybe, he wasn’t going to kiss you again.

Is that why you had a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach? Is that what you were so afraid of?

You didn’t understand what he was going through, and he wasn’t helping you to.

Maybe you didn’t have to know, or it wasn’t your place, but you ached with a need to help him. Curiosity ate at you, and the weary way he spoke kept feeding it.

But there was nothing you could do. You had started getting used to that feeling.

So, “Okay,” you said. Because you couldn’t push, you couldn’t ask. It was easier for him if you didn’t argue, and that’s what he needed. Something easy.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re pouting.”

“I’m not.”

He laughed, something real and cute, and it had a smile starting to stretch on your face.

“I know you are. I know you.” He was speaking right into your ear; his quiet voice was the only thing you could hear. His voice was the same as always, stoking the flames in your heart and smothering the ones in your stomach. “Let me see.”

“I’m not pouting,” and you pulled your smiling face from where it was hidden. You pulled out of his hold, catching both his hands in yours. “Are you gonna come in?”

“I was thinking about it,” he said. So you led him inside.

…

And you hoped beyond it all that the week would be nothing but a blip in time, but it didn’t seem like things would go back to normal any time soon.

If Steve was distant before, he was miles away now.

He was trying, but there was always something he wasn’t saying. You had no idea how to get it out of him even after spending every day with him.

You didn’t see Robin again until you had already gotten used to the April showers, and she offered nothing more than meek smiles and one word answers during your hang out.

You hadn’t seen Dustin at all. Erica, either. Sundays had become like any other day.

Steve hadn’t mentioned the girl, but he talked about Dustin sometimes. Every few days he’d say he was going to check on him - for a reason you didn’t know.

Max was in the hospital. Steve didn’t say the reason or how she was doing. But you knew that on the days he visited her, he left home early and got back real late. You gave him his space on those days.

And then it was May, and nothing had changed, and you had gotten used to it.

...

The nights were starting to get warmer, and Steve was grateful for it. He could sit out on his patio all night, with nothing but a hoodie and half a pack to get him to too late.

He’d made a habit out of it without noticing. Out of staying up until three every night. Out of losing count of the stars in the sky. Out of chain smoking until he couldn’t hold his eyes open.

He used to be scared of the dark. When he was a kid, it was the only fear he could fathom. And, recently, it terrified him.

Now, he looked over his backyard, into the stretch of forest beyond it, and he didn’t feel a thing. If there was something hiding in the shadows, something he should be afraid of, it’d have to show itself first.

He wasn’t wasting any more time being afraid of story book monsters that might exist, because he knows what fear is now. He’s looked it in its eye, and he’s felt it punching him in the face, and he’s heard it screaming his name for help.

If it was dark all the time, Steve wouldn’t mind one bit.

And then his patio door was sliding open, and he felt his heart in his throat.

Maybe he wasn’t as tough as he thought.

“Hey.”

Your voice cut through the pounding.

“I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.”

“No, it’s okay.” He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and shoved it up his sleeve, feeling a need to hide them from you - even though he had one tucked behind his ear that he was sure you could see.

“What are you doing out here?”

You sat with him, crouching down and getting as comfortable as you could on the wooden porch. He watched you fold your arms into yourself.

“Getting some peace and quiet,” he said. “No jacket?”

“Didn’t think you’d be outside,” you said. “Should I go get one?”

He was already getting up before you could finish asking. He brought you a jacket and a blanket, and got himself a Coke. Better than beer, he figured.

You grabbed all three from him. “How’d you know I was thirsty?”

All he did was grin at you. He slid the door shut behind him, and then sat down against it, across from you. You were sitting too close for him to stretch his legs out; he kept them bent, his arms slung over his knees.

Now that you were here, his thoughts weren’t the loudest thing in his head. You had always been like that - too noisy to let the quiet smother him. Most times, he appreciated that.

It wasn’t helping now, though. Your tapping on the ground and the tune you hummed weren’t drowning out a thing.

He couldn’t stop fucking thinking.

You passed him the soda can, and he held it lazily between his bent knees.

He didn’t even want it. He wasn’t thirsty. Really, he only wanted to light the cigarette you hadn’t spotted yet.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He stared at the chipped paint under his feet. His teeth gnawed at the inside of his cheek, over and over at the same spot until it was bleeding. And, god, it was a familiar taste. One that made him sick.

He tossed his head back and it hit the glass with a thud. He looked at you, once, and then passed you. At the rippling water in the pool.

He stared at it. Stared and stared and stared, until he had to say something.

“Do you remember when Will Byers went missing?”

He wanted to see the reaction on your face, but he couldn’t look away from the water. He could see that night, the party, and what happened afterward.

“Yeah… our junior year, right?”

He gave a barely there nod.

“It was Will, and then it was Barb.”

He looked to his lap, but he was still seeing that fucking night. He saw the blood in Barb’s hand, and he heard the hurt in her voice, and he remembered not caring at all.

“Fuck. It’s all so fucked up.”

He didn’t care when he should’ve, and now it’s useless. It doesn’t matter if he cares or not, but he wants to rip his fucking heart out, anyway. He wants to go back in time and do it all over again, even if it would lead to a disaster. Even if it would change everything or nothing.

And he shouldn’t be so upset about it, because it doesn’t make a difference. Not anymore. He could be as careless as he wants, now, because no one is around to be hurt by it.

“Why are you thinking about that, Steve?”

“Because that’s when all this shit started.”

He spoke without thinking, words falling out of his mouth like a running faucet, because he didn’t have the energy to keep a secret anymore.

It started with Barb, but it didn’t end with her. Or with Billy. Or Hopper, or Chrissy - and, maybe, not with Eddie.

And how many others had been taken in between?

His throat felt tight; he coughed through it. He sat the Coke between his feet, and realized his lighter was there, too.

He brought a palm to his eyes. “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. It’s - it’s fucking unbelievable, but it’s all true.”

“Steve.”

“It’s stupid.”

“You can tell me.”

He was getting overwhelmed. His breaths started to stagger on top of each other, making it hard to catch even one. Tears welled in his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It was all too much - he needed to get it out.

Because nothing between you and him would ever be normal if he never stopped hiding this from you. What, was he going to hide his scars from you forever? Or never explain why he didn’t sleep at night? Would all of his weapons be excused away as decorations?

No - he wanted to let you in.

“It’s all so fucking stupid.”

He was laughing, and you must have thought he was fucking crazy.

“Barb - she was here that night.”

“What?”

“This is the last place she was seen. And I just acted like it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t care, even when I found out she was missing.”

And he felt like an open fucking wound; the still healing rips on his torso leaking blood, too much for his shirt to absorb. His head throbbing, his eye swollen shut. Iron in his mouth, on his fists, pooling around him. Something wrapped around his throat. Bile filling it. He hadn’t healed. His injuries were all still there.

“And I show up to Jonathan Byers’ house, and I knock on his door, and I knew - I fucking knew something was wrong. Like, seriously wrong. And I forced Nancy to let me in, and I didn’t run when they told me to. And I should have just fucking listened.”

He thought about Barb, Billy, Chrissy, Jason, Eddie. All of them, victims to the thing he’s had nightmares about for years, and he can’t stop his first thought: I’m just glad it wasn’t me.

But it’s the thought that comes after that he keeps getting hung up on: Should it have been?

“I don’t know what they said about Will. I don’t know what excuse they made up, or what you think happened - if he was lost in the forest, or - or if he ran away, but none of it is true. He disappeared. He wasn’t here anymore. He was gone - literally, gone. In another dimension. Literally.”

Steve couldn’t know if you were understanding - if you were even capable of believing something so unreal. But you had to. You had to know. He’d been carrying around this secret, and it was the biggest thing in his life.

Because he wanted to. Because he loved you. He wants you to love him - to understand who you’re loving.

“Whatever you think about all the shit that happens in Hawkins… they say it’s a curse, or whatever, but - you don’t know the half of it. You don’t know any of it. It’s not a curse. It’s just a coincidence. If it didn’t happen in Hawkins, it would have happened somewhere else.”

You still hadn’t said anything. You just sat there, staring at your hands in your lap. Steve wasn’t sure if he appreciated the silence or not, but he wasn’t used to it.

“Will went missing. And a girl showed up. Eleven. El. You’ve seen her with Mike, or Max. You know her. You know Hawkins Lab? That’s where she grew up. She’s not just some girl, she’s - she’s someone’s science experiment. She’s got psychic powers. I’m not kidding.”

“What?”

There it was - the tilt in your voice that told him you didn’t believe a damn thing, and he didn’t blame you.

And he laughed.

“I swear.”

“Psychic powers, like…?”

He grabbed the Coke and took a long drink over a smile. He was looking at you like this was something casual.

“I’ve seen her lift a car with her mind,” and he shrugged with it. The can rang on the floor; you picked it up and took a drink.

You said nothing, and Steve felt like he was retelling a movie plot rather than his own life. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“I don’t know what they were doing in the lab, but they - I don’t know. They opened a gate into another dimension. One just like Hawkins, but fucked up beyond belief. The Upside Down. That’s where Will went. It’s where Barb died. It’s where all your nightmares go to turn into spit soaked monsters, probably.”

He pulled down his cigarette and rolled it back and forth between his fingers, digging his thumb’s nail into the filter. It was some old menthol crush, the last of its pack that he’d bummed at a party a few weeks back. He hated the way it stung the back of his throat, hated the taste it left in his mouth even more. The Marlboro Reds burned a hole in his hoodie sleeve where they were still hidden. Those smoked better - they were fresher, smoother.

“Dustin comes up with these insane sounding names for all the shit that comes out of that place. Demogorgans. Demodogs.” He had to chuckle and roll his eyes at himself. “The Mind Flayer. That’s what wrecked Starcourt.”

“The mall?”

Steve nodded.

“You said it was a fire.”

“I lied.”

“Then what was it?”

He put the menthol between his lips. He hated the mint, but he always cracked the capsule, anyway. Someone told him it was bad luck not to.

He stared at you, and he wrapped his teeth around the cigarette filter. His jaw tensed with a bite. It popped, and he grabbed his lighter, and he didn’t look away from you.

And then he got into it. He told you about Dustin hearing Russian being spoken over his radio. And how he learned how smart Robin really is, when she translated the words and then understood the secret message they were relaying. He explained how they’d gotten Erica to sneak into the air vents, and how that led to all four of them sneaking into a storage room that turned into a sinking elevator.

He told you about the Russians, about how they were opening their own gate. He told you about getting kidnapped by them, and all the ways they had made those few hours hell.

He didn’t spare the details, because he was tired of downplaying it all. And in that bunker, he thought he was dead. He shouldn’t have to tiptoe around that.

And he told you about the drug they’d given him and Robin, and how he would be dead if it wasn’t for Dustin and Erica, and how fucking scared he was even after he got out.

And they got out, and then he was driving a car straight into Billy fucking Hargrove, and then all of them were fighting something that looked bigger than the entire sky.

And he doesn’t know how he remembers it all so clearly.

“And then it was over… and I called you.” He still hadn’t lit his smoke - it’d been hanging from his lips the whole time he spoke.

You stared at him like you were trying to find his missing pieces. Glass coated your eyes and worry wormed its way between your brows, and Steve hated it. He wasn’t telling you any of this so you’d feel bad. He didn’t want you crying for him, or at all.

He laughed only just. “And you had no idea what you were picking me up from.”

You breathed in a loose sniffle. “No shit.”

Scratch, rip, hit -

Scratch, rip, hiss.

A flame lit up his face as tobacco started to burn. Nasty numbing mint chilled his throat as he puffed out his chest, and he held in a cough on the exhale.

He held the lighter loose in the air, between his raised knees.

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t believe you could make any of that up.”

“I’m sorry I never told you.” Mumbled words were barely heard over the scratch, rip, hit as he played with the Bic like a toy. And he didn’t sound all too sorry - he sounded tired.

Wind ripped through the night and carried smoke and ash with it.

“What about spring break?”

He looked up at you. “What?”

“Spring break,” you said again. You looked down from his eyes to his neck, where shadows of a bruised scar remained. “Something else happened, didn’t it?”

Somehow, in the reminiscing of fights past, he’d forgotten about everything most recent. That was the only way he could forget about it - by thinking about all the shit that came before.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, redundant answers easier to give than an explanation. Listening to the scratch, rip, hiss, watching a flickering flame, breathing in more smoke.

He let go of fidgeting with the lighter to pull the cigarette from his mouth. He exhaled smoke then hit it again; he held the hit so long that what he breathed out was thin.

And as he ashed his cigarette, he decided he didn’t want to get into it. He didn’t want to replay those events like a story. So, again, he said, “Yeah.”

“What happened?” It wasn’t a push - Steve appreciated the concern you had.

“Same as always. It was a fight. It’s… it’s supposed to be over now. Really over.”

He remembered it like it was yesterday: setting Vecna aflame that caught all of The Upside Down with it. The whole place burned, from its vines to its crumbled buildings to the monsters in the sky. The gates closed themselves like they had never been open.

And it was over, even if it was too late.

“The Upside Down is gone. It should be. Hopefully. But… I was lucky to get out. Some of us didn’t.” He shrugged, like it was casual. He stared at the cherry on the cigarette, burning bright orange.

And he couldn’t keep talking, even though he knew what part came next. He knew what words he had to say. But he couldn’t.

It seemed you caught on enough, because you said them for him. “Max?”

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, holding back tears he’d already cried before.

“She’s been in a coma since,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“But you’ve seen her?”

His response came hesitant. “I’ve tried,” and he wanted to leave it at that, so no cries came after, but his mouth kept talking. “Robin goes in. I can’t even make myself get out of the damn car.”

All he felt was shame, but he swallowed it.

“You heard about Chrissy Cunningham?”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t Eddie Munson who killed her.” You nodded - Steve figured you understood what he meant enough to spare the details. “Eddie - god, Eddie would’ve died for her. He would’ve died for anybody. He died for this fucking town.”

Another pull from the smoke that was almost gone. Breathe in, breathe out.

“He was a dumbass. A freak - a fucking idiot.” He wished Eddie was listening to him - Steve wanted him to hear all the insults he was throwing his way, because they were all true. It was stupid the way Eddie died. He shouldn’t have.

“And Dustin’s been a mess ever since, and there’s nothing I can do. Robin’s a bigger wreck than she used to be. No one’s handling it.”

“How are you handling it?”

And Steve didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure he had one.

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t lying - he was fine. Somewhere between good and bad, coping through flashbacks and nightmares. He wasn’t lost in it. He was dealing.

“Steve…”

The last drag from his barely there cigarette burned hot, and he savored the pull until his lungs were full. He didn’t empty them until he stood up, and he looked around for the ashtray.

His words were smoke. “Do you want to go in? It’s late.”

He found it on the table, stubbed out the cigarette, and then he stuffed the hidden pack into his pocket.

You repeated his name behind him, and he ignored you. And then your hand was on his back, and you were pulling him in before he could hear you coming.

It was a tight hug he had to fight out of just so he could turn and reciprocate. His arms around your shoulders were just as tight as yours around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper he didn’t even know he was breathing out, until he was repeating it into your hairline. “I had to tell you. I needed you to know. I’m sorry.”

Your response was muddy, spoken into his shoulder. He laughed and pulled back enough to look at you.

“What?”

“Don’t say sorry.” You wore a grumpy look, your words were demanding, and Steve laughed some more. “Why are you laughing? Stop.”

“Because you’re funny.” His thumb smoothed out the worry between your brows and put them back where they belonged. “And really cute.”

You pressed your cheek into his chest. “I’m being serious. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. Me too, believe me.”

A kiss on your forehead had you squeezing him tighter, and he ignored how tender the injuries on his back and stomach were. They were just barely forming scars, but the way you hugged him had him feeling like they weren’t even there. It made him feel special. He felt better.

So he kissed your skin again and willed himself to tamper the thoughts of when he was kissing your lips instead. “Let’s go in, honey.” He pulled you loose from him.

It seemed like you had a realization, then; your eyes went wide and you looked at him like you couldn’t stop. “That’s why you came to see me that night - because…”

You trailed off, maybe not knowing what to say, and Steve wasn’t sure where to pick up. He could tell you the suffocating truth, or a less embarrassing lie.

Something in between, “Because I needed to.”

“I didn’t know it was that serious,” you said. “I mean - I knew there was something really wrong, but… I didn’t know - I didn’t think that could be our first and last kiss - I didn’t know you could’ve died.”

“I wasn’t trying to scare you. You weren’t supposed to think that.” He felt bad, but he didn’t regret the visit. “And, technically - it was our first and second kiss.”

You breathed a laugh as your forehead fell into the crook of his neck. “I hate your technicalities.”

He laughed, too, and the joy helped distract him from the anxiety running through him.

He thought about that kiss every day - about how he made sure to do it twice, all because he wasn’t going to die without getting to kiss you a second time. Once wasn’t enough, so he took the second without any time passing.

But he wouldn’t tell you any of that. He was scared to know how you’d feel about it.

That’s why he hasn’t brought it up until now. Until you said something first.

He pulled away from you again, really meaning to bring you inside this time because he hated having you out so late. But he froze when he saw tears on your lash line, looking like crystals clinging to your eyelashes.

He swore he felt his heart break. “Sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t cry - hey, don’t cry for me, alright? I’m right here, honey, hey.”

He crouched down to be eye level with you and he sat on the table behind him. He cradled your face - you tried pulling away, but he wouldn’t let you.

“If you would’ve told me the truth, I never would have let you go.” You spoke so sadly.

“I know. I know, honey, but you don’t have to think about it anymore - it’s okay. There’s nothing to cry about.”

Tears were still falling, and you were still mumbling through them. “I would’ve kissed you more if I knew you might not come back.”

And he needed you to stop crying. He’d do anything - he’d confess all his feelings right there, if that’s what it took.

“I was always coming back. I’m right here, you got me, look at me.”

You shook your head but did what he said; he was wiping your tears with his sleeve, chuckling through the ache in his chest.

“You think I was gonna kiss you then go get myself killed? No shot. What’d you think I was living for, huh?”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” But you were smiling.

“I’m not trying to be.” He was smiling, too. “I mean it. Nothing would keep me from coming back to you, alright? I’m right here - you can keep me forever, I’ll kiss you as much as you want, just stop crying.”

“I can’t help it.” You wiped your nose and squeezed your eyes closed, and it looked like your breathing was steadier. “Do you mean it?”

“Which part?”

“I can keep you forever?”

“Of course.”

And he watched your cheeks swell into a smile you tried to hide. “And you’ll kiss me?”

He had no idea how to be charming or sly underneath your gaze, so he wasn’t. Instead, he was a stuttering, shy, lovesick fool.

“I - I mean, yeah - yeah, if you… want me to, I guess - I mean, I definitely want to, so - it’s up to you?”

He didn’t even care if he sounded like an idiot, because that’s exactly what he was. And you knew it.

“Obviously I want you to, Steve.”

His thumb pressed into your cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Obviously, huh?”

He was obsessed with your smile, addicted to feeling it grow into his palm.

“I’ve only been sending signals for months, but you haven’t caught any of them.”

“Oh, I’ve caught them, alright - was just waiting for the right moment.”

“Like right now?”

And, just like the first time, you kissed him. It was as soft as it could possibly be. Two smiles meeting after too long apart, his hands on your face, yours on his chest.

He pulled away, then brought you back to him, tilting your chin so he could kiss you for real. He moved his lips and yours followed his lead.

Your fingers crawled up and up until they were sneaking behind his neck, getting lost in his hair. He tugged you closer - your body was flush against his.

He felt you everywhere; you stood between his legs, your chest and his were rising and falling with each other.

Behind his closed eyes, he was in another world. He saw you pulling him in close, he felt your hand tightening around his, he heard your voice calling out his name.

He heard himself telling you every secret he’d ever kept. He saw the house he’d build for you, and the bed he’d sleep in with you, and the ring he’d give you. He saw it all.

It was heart racing.

It was wanting to be with you forever.

It was you wanting to be with him, too.

And then you pulled away.

And he opened his eyes.

And you were right there in front of him, smiling just for him to see, and he felt like melting into a puddle.

“You’ll kiss me as much as I want, right? Is that what you said?”

God, he wanted to squeeze you like a stuffed animal - you drove him crazy. Absolutely batshit insane.

He pulled you back in with both hands on your face and kissed you something awful - pressing against you hard, making sure to leave your lips glossy when he pulled back to laugh.

“Just like that, as much as you want.”

“Never again.”

It was funny when you tugged away from him. Both of you were laughing, but he couldn’t take it. You weren’t getting far.

“Don’t leave, it’s what you wanted!”

He chased behind and it was quick when he caught you, right at the patio door. He turned you around and pressed you into the glass, and he kissed you again like he couldn’t help it - because he couldn’t.

The way you kissed was new, and he already loved it, but he ached to know you. To know just how to get you to open up for him, to learn how to kiss you exactly as you liked.

He would figure it out - he wouldn’t stop until he did. And he’d make do for the moment, leading the way through your shyness, not letting anything stop him.

Your lips parted after enough convincing, and with your open mouth against his it was impossible for him to hold back the noise he made. A groan, or a growl, he wasn’t sure - but it had you whining back to him as he tasted your tongue.

It was hot but it was slow, and there was nothing Steve wouldn’t give for it to last forever. Despite that, he broke first.

“As much as you want,” he told you, speaking low, words scratched with something rough. “God, I’d kiss you forever if you let me, baby - however you wanted me to.”

“Forever?”

“As long as you’ll let me,” he grinned. “As long as you’ll keep me.”

“I’ve already had you around for a while…”

“Not like this,” he insisted. “At least let me get good at kissing you before you throw me out on the curb.”

“You’re already good,” you said, kissing his jaw.

He hummed, teasing. “Let me get better, then. Gotta get up to par with you, honey.”

“What can I say? I’ve had a lot of kissing practice, babe.”

He rolled his eyes, acting dramatic. “Oh, I bet you have, babe.”

“Like you haven’t had your practice, too, honey.”

“Okay - let’s stop bringing up the past, alright?” He tugged the glass door open behind you, then pushed you through it. Laughter filled his house as the door shut behind him.

“You started it!”

“I literally didn’t! You brought up your hours of practice!”

“I never said it was hours!”

“I’m filling in the blanks!”

“Oh my god.” You were making quick steps to the stairs - he followed like a lost dog.

“Is this our first fight?”

You were halfway up the staircase when you turned and looked down to him, still stood at the bottom. The lighting around you was dim and your grin was blinding him. “Only if you don’t let me sleep over tonight.” Your hands were on your hips, your eyes were drawing him in. “And this isn’t our first fight. Our first fight was over a Snickers bar.”

“And I don’t think we ever made up, now that I think about it.”

He took the stairs two at a time to get to you, and he gave you his smuggest grin.

“Really? We’re still fighting over it?”

“Til the end of time,” he stated. “But I can look past our differences just for tonight.”

“That gives me time to make it up to you.”

...

Did you know everything about Steve Harrington?

You thought you did. You spent years believing it.

You knew more about him than the average person, sure - but how could you have been so smug? How could you act like such a know it all?

You learn new things about him every day, now. Even when you thought there was nothing left that you didn’t know.

As it turns out, you knew next to nothing about him. And you liked it that way. It made doing life with him that much more exciting.

You sat with him now in the passenger seat of his car. The morning sun cast everything in gold, making the day feel brand new. You watched as he tapped his finger on the steering wheel, making a terrible beat.

He kept shaking his head back and forth, and you only just realized that you had noticed him doing it before. It was a nervous tick. It never stood out to you until now - something new.

“Are you okay?”

He seemed to freeze at the sound of your voice, as if he had forgotten you were even there.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

You took his hand and brought it up to your lips.

He continued, “I don’t know if I can do this,” and he looked out the window rather than at you.

You squeezed his hand tight. “I know you can, baby. You did it last week.”

“It was fucking hard.”

“It’ll be easier this time. Why won’t you look at me, babe?”

He did; his eyes were down turned and sad.

You kissed his hand again. “You don’t have to force yourself, Steve. If it’s really too hard -”

“I have to. I know I do.”

You gave him a sad smile, then sat up and across the console to kiss his cheek. He leaned into it, and you lingered there. “You’ll be proud of yourself. I’ll be proud of you.”

“I know.”

You turned his face toward yours, and he was nothing but stressed. “Are you sure you’re okay, Steve? It’s okay if you can’t push yourself today.”

He sighed loud, and you knew he was trying to be overdramatic. “I’m okay, honey. I just… get like this.”

You giggled, “I know.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I know, babe,” and you pressed your lips against his quick. “You’re okay. I’ll be out here the whole time waiting, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

You handed him the bouquet of flowers and bag of snacks from your lap. “Lucas is expecting you.” You passed him a stack of old books, ones Steve had picked from your collection that he thought Lucas and Max would enjoy.

He took them, and then he kissed you again, just for the sake of it. “Thank you.”

He opened his door, and as he stepped out of the car, you found three words on the tip of your tongue threatening to fall out of your mouth - and you slapped a hand over your lips when you realized what they were.

When he shut the door and you were out of the danger zone, you breathed a deep sigh of relief.

You were nervous because of him.

That was new, too.

You watched through the windshield as he walked toward the hospital doors, and you said those three words to yourself, and tucked that new discovery into your back pocket.

It was all new horizons with Steve, from there on out.

He was brand new to you, and you absolutely loved him for it.

part one!

thank u for reading. kiss

#if anyone sees this haiii :3 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #fluff #angst #my writing

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