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sleepyconfusedpotato · 2 years

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Take Care of Yourself

After their escape from the Shadow Company's looming hunt for their heads, Ghost, Soap, and Jade headed to the Los Vaqueros safehouse on the outskirts of Las Almas. Soaked by the rain, the Scot needed some help with his wound on his shoulder.

Soap isn't the only one who needed help, though.

Pairing : Simon "Ghost" Riley x Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 2700

Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol' cursings.

Title and story inspired by the song Take Care of Yourself by Maisie Peters

"Soap, where's your wound?" Jade asked the sergeant as she rummaged through her gears. Ghost, Soap, and Jade were standing near the truck they found in front of the church, currently just a kilometer away from Alejandro's safe house on the eastern side of Las Almas. However, now that the Los Vaqueros had been under the Shadow Company's custody, they cannot trust anyone. The three of them were all that they've got.

"Do you have the equipment?" Ghost, who's standing leaning onto the side of the truck asked.

"Here, fuck… I think the adrenaline shot is finally wearing off." His finger pointed at the bloody makeshift bandage on his right shoulder, sitting on the grass with his back on the side of the wheel. Their whole bodies are wet from the rain, but at least the cold helped with the blood clotting.

Jade knelt down to the ground, observing the wound. "That thing served its purpose, you did great, Soap. Now the bullet's still in there, and we need to get it out and sew it in order to let it heal properly."

"Don't worry." The MI6 zipped out a roll of cloth, putting them onto the grass field to reveal a series of stainless steel tools that Soap could tell were definitely not medical tools. "I can make do."

"Wait, Jade. Isn't that…" Soap nervously glanced back and forth to her and her equipment.

"Torture devices, yes. But it doubles as a medical kit for emergency situations, which is now." The woman lifted up a scissor, cutting the bloody bandage from Soap's shoulder, revealing the gunshot wound that Graves had inflicted upon him. Soap hissed as she gently peeled the cloth from his skin while staring at the wound underneath.

"The bleeding has mostly stopped. Now I just need to get it out." She put down the scissor, took her canteen and rinsed the bloody area with water.

"Aww! Aw aw SHIT!!"

"Don't be a baby, Johnny." Ghost retorted from beside him.

"I just got shot, Lt., and it fucking stings like a bitch. Have you ever been shot?" The wounded man grumbled to his superior.

"Many times." He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Beanpole, how about you help me get some lights over here? Don't wanna pull out healthy skin." Jade gestured at the masked man. If he wants to be chatty then at least he could help a little.

Ghost knelt down as well, pulling out his flashlight and directing it towards the wound. "Now that's better." Jade finally got a good visual clarity, prompting her to touch the skin surrounding it, and opening them up with her fingers. "Alright, Soap. Get ready. No alcohol unfortunately so grit your teeth real hard."

"Yeah." After the Scot's shaky response, Jade used her forceps to enter the wound, exploring the outsides of the bullet, and took hold of it.

"Got it. Stay still." As she very, very slowly fished out the bullet, Soap closed his eyes and rested his head on the car, a grimace on his face as he tried to hold in the pain. Ghost only watched in silence as he still held the flashlight up.

"Aaand it's out." The bullet is finally out of the wound, leaving a little blood trail running down his shoulder which Jade immediately covered with a gauze.

"Seems intact. You're lucky the bullet didn't burst and broke inside." Ghost reacted to the bullet on the tip of the forceps. "Or it'll be a pain in the arse to find all of them."

"Yeah. All those muscles double as a meat shield I guess." Jade joked as she put the bullet down on the cloth rolls, making Soap let out a broken chuckle.

"All that workout finally pays off."

"It certainly did." The MI6 then used forceps on both hands to carefully stitch the wound. The wound was not that big, so it only required around 3 stitches.

As she rolled the bandages around Soap's arm, Ghost started, "We don't know whether the safe house is empty or not. We're on our own."

The ginger responded, "We are. Anyone who points a gun at us, they're hostile. Can't trust anyone unless…"

"Unless?" Soap noticed her pause.

"Unless someone's still not compromised and corrupted. And if there's one, it's Alejandro." She finally finished rolling the bandages, tidying up her equipment on the floor and putting them back on her gear.

The three of them stood up, led by the lieutenant, "Alright, let's get inside."

***********

After discussing about releasing Alejandro from the Shadows, they were now preparing their gears for the battle that was yet to come. Rodolfo had given them all some Mexican Army rations to fill their empty guts. Hours and hours of running and being hunted by Shadows took their energies out to flat battery. Rudy, Soap, and Jade sat together on the wooden crate inside the warehouse, eating away their meal.

Jade was right, if there's someone who is not corrupted, it's Alejandro, and someone close to him.

Much to their surprise, they found Rodolfo hiding in the darkness of the building. He did point his rifle at Soap, but at least he was still vigilant and didn't take anyone as a friendly considering the dreadful situation at hand. The warehouse was packed full with guns and ammunition in all varieties. It's like a second base for the Los Vaqueros. Surely it's smaller in size than the one Graves and his Shadows occupied at the moment, but it would do.

"Where's the lieutenant?" Rudy started.

"Outside. Probably doesn't want us to see his face." Soap answered as he ate the dried beans.

"Why does he wear that? The first time I saw him in the car, I was truly scared." The Mexican remembered saying that he's afraid of ghosts in Spanish to his superior upon seeing his mask.

"Then the mask served its purpose. It's psychological warfare. The less human you look like, the more fear you can strike upon the enemy" The only woman in the house told them, "Imagine a big, hulking man with a skull face, coming at you in a full on black attire, with a full sets of skills that can end your life in seconds. I would be scared."

Hearing that, Rodolfo sighed, "Glad he's on our side."

"Right. Or probably he just wants to hide his ugly face." Soap retorted, making the three of them chuckle.

As she finished her rations, Jade tidied up the plastic containers before standing up, "I'm gonna check on the beanpole. You guys eat away." She patted both of the man's shoulders, which were replied with nods from both men, before she headed out of the warehouse's wooden door where Ghost had headed ten minutes prior.

As she stepped out in the dark of the night, Jade looked up at the Las Almas sky. This will be a long night.

Got betrayed by Shepherd and The Shadows, Soap got shot, they had to survive a town full of people trying to hunt them, and now after only one hour of downtime, the four of them were about to storm the prison to try freeing Alejandro and the Vaqueros.

Taking on a whole garrison of Shadows in the prison compound with just four people? Sounded suicidal of them indeed, but Jade had seen what these people could do. They're trustworthy.

She's not alone anymore.

She's got people to cover her back.

She had him.

Taking a deep breath, she looked around to find out where the man in black went. She looked side to side to see any big, black shape sitting down, but he's nowhere to be seen.

And so, she started to walk to the side of the warehouse, finally finding the big man sitting down, his back to her. Accompanied by a single lamp above him that barely gave any sort of luminescence, she could see that his mask was lifted up, the skull plate sitting on top of his head, indicating that he's indeed eating.

One thing she realized, though, she could see him a little bit stiff on the left shoulder. What confirmed her suspicion was the fact that he touched his left shoulder, before rolling them very very slowly like it's painful to move.

Guess even the Ghost himself wasn't invincible from a bullet.

"Beanpole." Jade softly called to him. Her feminine voice instantly made the man flinch, but not turn around.

A pause, "Midget. Why are you here?" He said, for once his deep, raspy voice was not muffled by the mask.

"Checkin' up on you. You really do like sitting alone in the dark."

He didn't respond with anything. The woman decided to step forward, making the grass crack. Ghost immediately put his hand on his mask, ready to pull it down to wear it, before Jade stopped him, "It's fine. You can keep eating. I promise I won't do anything." Ghost halted his actions for a good five seconds, before putting his hand down again.

Seeing that he's finally relaxed, Jade closed in on his back slowly to where he sat down on the wooden crate. She could see the back of his neck and a little hint of his hair like this, and of course, there's a tint of blood on the junction between his neck and shoulder, just shy away covered by his black collar that was also ripped apart in the area.

"You're injured." Jade spoke slowly to avoid startling him too much.

"...Just a bullet graze. Bloody shadows."

"May I?" Jade asked, and she could see him contemplating, before he lightly nodded. Upon his confirmation, she lightly pulled away his torn collar, finding blood still running down the grazed wound. It's angry red in color, especially being covered by his clothes and his gear the entire time.

Hearing Jade’s huff, the man inquired, "Is it bad?"

"Bad. Even though Soap had a whole bullet lodged in his shoulder, at least the wound was open to the rain to wash it away. Yours were covered by your collar and plate carrier. Infection will suck." He grumbled in response. He surely thought it was nothing, but it definitely needed some attention.

"You can keep eating while I take care of this. Put off your gears first." Jade spoke to the back of his neck, and seeing that he sighed, it seemed that he didn't mind. Ghost took his gear off, as he tried to lift the plate carrier above his head, Jade could see him struggling to fight the pain on his shoulder and decided to lend a hand. Without a word, Jade helped lift them up. Judging by his groan, it must be a major relief after carrying that much weight on his injured shoulder.

After putting the gear down, she started by pouring some water to a cotton wool, pulling the collar away, revealing that the wound is even longer and deeper than she thought. It’s almost half his trapezius. This definitely required some attention. "I'm gonna clean the wound. This'll sting a little.” As she lightly pressed on the wound, Ghost's neck tensed, but he didn’t make a sound, albeit him grabbing his plastic spoon harder that it might snap.

“It’s supposed to be painful, Beanpole. It’s okay if you make a sound.” Jade said with a low tone, not wanting to surprise him, still going on in cleaning the angry red wound. This man is a hard ass sometimes. “At least Soap’s not here to tell you you’re a baby.” the woman retorted, making Ghost scoff involuntarily as he remembered telling Soap the exact same thing earlier.

“Fine,” He finally relented. “It bloody hurts. The only thing that made it right was that I put a knife on the bastard’s neck.”

“Hmm. And were you planning to let this thing be a secret?” She gestured at the wound she’s currently tending to.

Ghost only sighed, "I was going to take care of it myself."

Jade huffed softly behind him, “If you fell down from fever because it's not treated properly, I’m gonna have trouble hauling you up, Beanpole. You’re huge.”

“I’m not gonna fall.” He denied.

“You will if you let this open wound be, which was your plan, isn’t it.” Jade told him off with a slightly louder voice, stopping her hands from cleaning the wound.

“I’ve been shot many times before, Midget, and I’ll take care of myself just fine.”

“But that was when you were alone, Ghost.” Hearing her call his call sign instead of the bastard nickname quite surprised him.

“I know you can take care of yourself just fine. I know that. I think so about myself too. But we’re a team here.” Jade didn’t even realize that her voice sounded more like a worried mother than a colleague. “You’re our commanding officer, and I know you need to take the lead. All this shite happened on your watch, but despite all of that, I need you to tell me if you’re wounded. I will help. We will help.” Ghost had stopped eating now. She’s talking to the back of his head, but he could totally imagine her worried face. From the tone in her voice, he could also tell that she’s not angry. Concerned would be a better word.

“I’ve been in this thing as long as you, Ghost, and God knows how it fucks someone up, but we’ve got each other now.” She finally got back to cleaning his wound, “You said it yourself just now, ‘no one fights alone’, and that includes this. So don’t fight alone, okay?”

Ghost took a deep breath. He did say that, didn’t he. She used his own words to get back at him.

Not hearing any answer, Jade pressed the cotton with slight pressure onto his wound, prompting him to flinch his shoulder and exclaim in pain, “Ow! What the fuck!?”

“Okay??”

“Okay! Fine, Mum!” Ghost finally yielded. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Jade couldn’t help but to scoff at her new nickname, “Don’t ‘Mum’ me, Ghost. I’m just a concerned friend, that is all.” She retorted, fishing the antibiotic cream from her med kit.

“Oh, so now we’re finally friends?”

“Yes. What, were we enemies? I’m gonna apply some antibiotic cream, your wound is very long. Sheesh.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…” He got back to eating his rations. He didn’t like pep talks, but hers actually alleviated some of his burdens. Knowing that someone’s got his back, that he has someone to rely on, that he didn’t have to do this alone… it somehow comforted him.

As Jade pressed a little of the content out of the tube, she thought about the man who’s having his back on her. Hearing that he’s been through a lot of things like her, deep in her mind, she’s glad that someone understands her. And all that she did was understand him. If Jade was in Ghost’s position, who has a lot of responsibilities and burdens on his shoulders, she’d want that reassurance too. The MI6 started to lightly rub on the wound, taking note of covering the entire area.

“Thanks, for having my back.” He continued, “When I heard Johnny’s coming, I thought I’m gonna need to babysit him for a while. But having you here… It makes things easier for me.”

“...Jade.” his deep voice called to her name, not the bastardized nickname, making her flinch in response.

"hm?"

The woman behind him smiled, “A pleasure, Ghost. Cut off a little slack for yourself, alright? You look like the kind of guy who doesn’t take his own advice.”

A chuckle, “Seems so.”

After a while, Ghost finally finished eating his rations, just as Jade finished closing up his injury with the adhesive plasters.

“Abracadabra, you’re healed~!” The woman covered the wound with her warm palm, touching his skin lightly, before covering the area back up with the collar.

Ghost pulled down his mask, before standing up and turned around to face the woman who patched him up. Lifting her head to see the towering figure, she could see his dark eyes looking back at her.

“Thanks, Midget. I owe you for this one.”

She never heard him speak with such sincerity and tenderness before. She swore if not for the dim lighting, he’d caught her cheek turn as red as her hair.

Well, there’s always a first for everything. “You owe me nothing. Anytime, Beanpole.”

********************

“Soap?” Rodolfo called to the man in front of him.

“Hm?”

“Did, uh… Ghost and Jade have something between them?” Hearing the Mexican sergeant’s question, Soap couldn’t help the laughter from his mouth; he had to cover them from spitting his food.

“You see it too, don’t you?” Soap responded with a chuckle, “To answer your question, no, I don’t think they had something. We’ve only known Jade about three years ago, during the conflict for Verdansk.”

“Three years ago?” Rodolfo questioned.

“Yes. The lass were called in by Laswell. She’s fierce, I’ll give her that. However, Ghost wasn’t the kindest person at the time, and there were… trust issues among the group. So he’s the one who started the Midget thingy, and Jade responded fairly by calling Ghost Beanpole.”

The Mexican cooed in acknowledgement, getting back to his rations. “They’re very… compatible together.”

“You’re right on point on that, Hermano.”

------- FIN -------

Hope you loved it! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

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thewalkingwillowtree · 5 months

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Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Gentle reminder about my previous warnings y’all. This part is heavy handed on the violence and mentions of blood. Also, very brief mention/implication of suicide (not any of our MC’s).

Part 17- Vengeance

The feast was almost over and Xi was running out of time. She had run through every possible scenario in her mind on how to get out of what was to come…what Su’ko had planned for her.

Eywa.

Help me.

She stared out at a sea of pity, losing count of how many Na’vi were scattered about the cave. Li’ona had always been a massive clan, and while they were far fewer in numbers now, there was still a shocking mass.

Whatever RDA base or ship the Li’ona people had scavenged was evident. There was a plethora of human made objects dispersed all over the large cave. Everything from rusting ship parts, to vehicle seats- their padding spilling out from its torn upholstery to even those tiny, bright coloured sticks the humans used to clean their teeth.

In her peripheral, the glint of Su’ko’s staff caught her attention. It had a sharp pointed blade which she was sure could pierce skin easily…if she could just reach it.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ her mind mocked, ‘you wouldn’t make it very far…even if you killed him.’

A frantic shout for help interrupted her thoughts. The distressed form of a man appeared, hysterically yelling about his dying father and Xi recognized him from his cloak.

He had been one of the men who’d accompanied Su’ko- one of his rouge warrior's who’d held her down as they forced her to watch her father be strung up.

Xilä observed that most of the clan merely blinked in his direction, almost as if it were a usual occurrence.

Was no one going to help his father?

Did they have no healer?

When no one came forth, she grabbed her chance. “I can help! Let me help, I am a healer!”

Well...as good as one.

All eyes landed on her, and Xilä held her breath as she waited for Su’ko give his permission. Instead, he fisted her hair painfully, titling her to face his menacing glare.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I-” she licked her lips nervously, “but I can help.”

“Su’ko…chief, please,” the man begged.

Su’ko’s gaze darted around at his clan, they were all watching in interest now, waiting for his response. Relenting, the Li’ona leader released her with an annoyed nudge.

“Go,” he ordered, tossing the end of the chain for the man to lead her away.

Deep into the cave and far from the rest of the clan, she followed when he entered an alcove. It was warm and reeked of stale sweat and urine. The rattling of the rusty chain around her ankle pierced the quiet of the dim space and Xi wondered for a split second if she’d been led into a trap.

Peering through the darkness, it took her a moment to make out a shifting lump on the ground. Said lump made her jump when it suddenly gave a loud, wheezing cough.

Rough hands dragged and pushed Xi to her knees, barking, “Do something! He’s dying!”

Xilä shot the man a foul glare over her shoulder. “My hands are still bound! I cannot work like this.”

He hesitated, but then the sound of another cough made him quickly cut the ties off her wrists.

As she rubbed the raw skin uncomfortably, she said, “I need light, water, and medicine if you have. There was supposed to be some in the sack that-”

“I’ll get it,” he snapped before dashing off, pulling the length of the long chain with him which rattled rather loudly before it tapered off, making her hastily extend her leg so she didn’t go lurching behind wherever it disappeared to.

Once the chain stopped, she shifted onto her knees and waited until another round of hacking from the ill figure ended. “Hello,” she tried.

“H’mdell, leave me.” The voice was harsh, hoarse and drenched in age.

“He- he’s gone to get a few things…I’m Xilä, I’m here to help. Do you mind- can I check your vitals? I’m a healer,” she whispered as calmly as possible.

“Xilä…I don’t know any Xi- wait…Muiä’s girl? Is that you?”

At his question she shuffled closer, wincing at the twinge in her ankle. “Yes,” she replied shakily. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Bah. I am fine. Only dying a slow and painful death. Why are you-” he broke off into another fit.

Xi pursed her lips when the elder’s breath quickened. Her brow furrowed when she took note of sweat glossing his heavily aged face yet he was swamped with what looked like three layers of worn leathers.

She reached out and pressed two fingers against the flat of his wrist, sharply inhaling when she felt his ice cold skin and faint beating pulse.

“When was the last time you ate or drank anything?”

H’mdell entered just then, bathing the room in warm light with a flame he secured into the rocky wall. He grunted a garble of words as he tossed a hefty medium sized sack at her. It was a mess of random herbs, tonics and instruments her father had stolen from the Omaticaya.

With the light, Xi swallowed her horror at the clear sight of the face staring back at her. The elder was gaunt, skeletal-like to be exact.

“He needs food, and clean, drinkable water. When was the last time he had anything?” she asked his son as she siphoned through the cloth bag, hoping it held what she needed.

“Not for days, he refuses- the stubborn fool,” the man replied with a pointed glare at his coughing father. “Do something already!” he bellowed at her, causing her to flinch and drop the container of powdered kyntser she’d been holding when he raised a threatening hand.

“H’mdell,” the elder rasped, “leave us. Su’ko will not be happy if you are late for your watch again. You know what happened the last time,” he said with a weak nod to the man’s left hand.

Xilä bit her cheek when she saw two missing fingers- only a thumb and index finger was left.

H’mdell simply grunted in response. Taking hold of the end of her shackle, he wedged it tight around an odd heavy scrap of metal that looked to be part of a machine. “Fix him. I’ll kill you if you don’t,” he threatened before finally leaving for his watch duty.

Waiting a few breaths, Xilä moved slowly as she tended to the elder who she learned was called Askadu.

Contrary to growing up in the deadlands, Xi had never really been given the freedom to roam the clan. Being overly sheltered, it was her first time actually seeing most of the unnamed faces.

The quiet and distance from the rest of the clan- distance from Su’ko specifically, gave her time to think, to plan.

Askadu stared at her the entire time, calculating gaze never leaving her face as she poked and prodded his ribs and stomach, ear pressing against his bony chest before she began to meticulously combine ingredients into a mortar and pestle.

“Why have you returned?” he eventually asked, surprising her.

“I have not returned,” she snapped, “I was taken from my home…against my will.”

“And just where is this home of yours?” he snarked. “Save the bruises, you look well kept. Sunkissed skin if I ever did see…no longer flesh and bone like the lot of us,” he commented, appraising her choice of clothing- or lack of, through cloudy gray eyes.

“The Omaticaya took me in. They are home.”

“The Omaticaya? Have you come from the Blue Flute clan then? The legendary Toruk Makto’s?”

“Yes,” she replied, pausing her stirring to frown at his genuine surprise and need of this information.

“That is not what Su’ko told us,” he muttered to himself faintly, but she heard it all the same.

Interesting.

They both fell quiet again, lost in their own thoughts as she continued to fret over him, giving him a slew of ill tasting remedies, then cleansing and treating his open bed sores as best as possible.

“What is it like?” he asked. “The forest.”

She pondered for a second before responding, smiling in memory. “It’s beautiful, something from a dream…The forest, it’s always alive, it glows, thrives and there’s forever something new to discover. I've lived there for some time now, but... I don’t think I’d ever get used to how wonderful it is”

“Hm.”

“Askadu,” she started, encouraged by his question to ask her own, “what happened to these lands? Why has Eywa forsaken Li’ona? You must know for sure. I heard it was once a place that all other clans would envy.”

The elder gave a dry laugh that ended in a fit of hacks and heaves. “Oh it was. It was,” he said as if remembering. “One could only assume my dear. I’m sure you’ve heard the theories. I’d gander it was greed and hate that brought us here, however.”

“How so?”

“Corruption,” he said ominously. “We once had all we could ever want…but then a drought came, far worse than any we’d ever encountered before. Instead of planning and conserving, we wasted…hoarded, took it all for granted by being selfish and unkind to our own. And when the lands became sparse, the evil awoke.”

“Evil?”

He fixed Xilä with a meaningful glare. “Hunger and thirst can turn any soul into an unrecognizable beast… beasts so wicked they no longer care, they no longer feel… they no longer exist… We can guess all we’d like, play the victims to make ourselves feel better, but it is no great secret why the Great Mother truly deserted us…We were our own undoing.”

Askadu breathed heavily and Xi wondered when was the last time he spoke this much, she offered him another sip of the slosh his son had brought.

It took everything within her to not rush this, to not make it obvious what she was doing, but she needed to gain his trust, and fast.

“Tell me child, has Eywa led you here to be part of our end? I can sense that our time here has run its course. You are here to join us then?”

A shudder ran up her spine at his chilling words. She shook her head slowly, grip loose on the cloth she’d been dabbing to his skin. “Eywa has nothing to do with me being here. I was taken against my will, remember? My father,” she sucked a breath, “he made a deal with your leader. And now Su’ko says he will claim me.”

“Ahhh, does he? And does he know you are already taken by an Omaticaya bastard?” he pondered in amusement, weak fingers lifting to flick at the chord of beads in her hair she’d been fidgeting with every now and again- Neteyam’s gifted beads precisely.

“Hmmm. You are tainted, but I suppose he wouldn’t care though, no? Gone were the days when one whore was enough for a man. Loyalty holds no meaning here anymore.”

Ignoring his vile words, Xilä couldn’t wait any longer. She was ready to strike, ready to put her plans in place.

With a glance behind her to make sure they were truly alone, she softened her voice, “You clearly don’t agree with the way he is doing things then. Help me, Askadu. Please.”

Askadu laughed. “Afraid you will end up like the rest then?”

“What do you mean? There were others? What happened to them?”

"They are dead," he replied nonchalantly, "Su'ko can be a...brutal lover."

Xi swallowed a wave of nausea. "Then help me."

Askadu turned angry. "I am afraid there is nothing I can do- and do not be fooled girl, I am no better than the animals out there. I will not fight for you- couldn’t even if I tried. I have already accepted my fate.. Maybe it's time you do too.”

“No. No I refuse to give up. And I don't need you to fight for me, no that's not what I'm asking. It's something else…please. Don't you want the last thing you do in this world to be something good? Help me, Askadu."

A stifling silence gave way for the grunts and hoots echoing through the walls of the cave.

“Tell me something, your mate, he is… what? A warrior?”

Xi frowned but answered all the same. “Yes. One of the greatest. He is the clan’s future Olo'eyktan,” she said proudly.

Askadu froze in shock before schooling his features. “Kin of Turok Makto… My my, see how you’ve risen,” he mocked. “He will be coming for you then? I can’t imagine having you taken away from your mate sits well with him- with the clan. How sure are you of this?”

Thumb and forefinger pressing into her beads for good measure, she nodded. “I’m sure. He’s coming, my husband is coming.” She knew it in her heart, there was no doubt.

“Very well. If I were to...help you," he bit out as if he'd eaten something vile, "I want something in return.”

Xilä’s relief was prominent. “Yes, of course. What would you like?”

He nudged his head to the medical sack. “Give me something strong to take, something that will do the trick quickly.”

Not understanding, Xi merely blinked at the bag.

Askadu rolled his eyes. “Your mate is coming for you, Xilä. Do you think he will simply walk in alone and take you without a fight? When the time comes, I will die on my own terms. So I’ll say it again. Give. Me. Something. Strong.”

A deep moan escaped Neteyam. “Fucking hell,” he murmured against Xi’s lips.

She giggled at his reaction, grin wide and proud. “Was that good?” she asked. “Yeeeah that was good,” she teased with a smirk, seeing his heated gaze, “I’m getting better at this kissing thing, I think.”

“Now who’s getting cocky?” he laughed in response, ducking down to suck her bottom lip into his mouth.

Her thighs squeezed his sides in response when he properly claimed her lips again, unable to help himself as his palms caressed as much free skin as they could without crossing that very thin line of inappropriateness.

Xilä, the greedy little thing, whined when he teased her in return by keeping his lips purposely closed. She bit his bottom lip in impatience, allowing for their tongues to dance passionately.

But then he was taking charge from her once more.

Neteyam tasted.

Inhaled.

Devoured.

She gave and he took.

They kissed until they were both bursting and lightheaded. Breaking apart, his lips trailed across her jawline and down the arch of her neck, desperate to stay close- addicted.

Since they’d recently started this dangerous game, it was getting increasingly difficult to stop each time.

He sucked at her pulse point, a spot he’d quickly come to realize was overly sensitive and prone to produce the most intoxicating sounds from her lips if he worked it just right.

Encouraged by her wanton moan, he did it again, and again, and again, practically feasting on her sweet smelling skin- tail happily thumping behind him while she gasped and panted as she clung to him.

Neteyam felt drunk off of her returning affections. He loved when her hips would begin to roll on their own, as if seeking more but not knowing what. He loved how her fingers would grip the skin of his back, his nape, his biceps, egging him on with breathy whines and mewls.

Only kissing.

That was the rule he’d set when they’d started this…and of course, he fucking hated it. He knew she did too. He knew that even though she was inexperienced, she was ever eager and always begging for more.

They were both fools though. The only kissing rule was beginning to blur. Hands began to roam further each time, bare skin was tasted and Neteyam, was always painfully rock hard by the end. Hiding it from her was becoming a task of its own nature.

The snap of a twig broke him from his spell, making him dart his head up and around at the forest surrounding them.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to see over his shoulder from their splayed position he'd rolled them to, but unable to since his heavy torso prevented her.

Neteyam listened for a few beats then jerked his chin. “Just a hexapede, over there, see?”

“Oh,” she gasped, “Teyam, it’s the same one we saw a few weeks ago. Look! She had her baby!”

Xi pushed at his chest so she could sit up to better see the knobby legged baby following its mother.

He grumbled, but shuffled out from his spot between her thighs to lean against a thick root of the tree they were lounging under. While she stared in awe at the two creatures, Neteyam took his fill of her. He wished he had a camera to save this moment forever.

She was beautiful, ethereal.

Skin glowing from the illumination around them, she was all soft lines, bright eyes and everything that was good in his entire world.

A sudden rush of overflowing affection that he’d never felt before made his heart leap.

Love…?

Love.

He waited for that thump-thump beat of panic over his realization…but it never came.

And then just as fast as that warmth of feeling showed itself, it was suddenly dampened by reality.

“What?” she asked with a little huff, amused when she’d caught him staring.

‘I love you,’ he thought. ‘But I’m not supposed to…’

“Nothing,” he said instead of the truth, “come here, sweetheart,” he begged quietly and albeit needy- a side of himself he’d never known existed.

‘Damn her.’

Pulling her into his arms with a contented sigh, he nuzzled her cheek and kissed under her jaw affectionately, feather light with hidden meaning, far more intimate than their usual “heated or passion” filled kisses.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.

For now he’d take what he could get, he’d pretend that there was no deadline- no pressing demand waiting for him to deal with. But fuck if it didn’t hurt to think that he’d have to give her up.

But what if he couldn’t? What if he didn’t want to give her up? He was in love with her…soul wrenchingly in love.

‘Damn her.’

“Don’t make me do any more drills today,” she pouted as she snuggled further into his arms, thighs draped over each of his from when she’d plopped into his lap.

“No?” he chuckled, playing with her hair. “What do you want me to make you do instead then?”

“This, just this right here,” she sighed happily, hugging him around his waist as her cheek made a home on his chest. “Please.”

Another thing that made him secretly happy- she was much more comfortable with initiating physical contact now.

Recently, and on more than one occasion, she’d forgotten they were in public, and while he’d pretend to be upset and mumble under his breath to remind her, he loved when she’d light up at seeing him, loved how she’d plaster herself in his arms or seek him out- just to be close, just to be near him in any way possible.

“Alright, fine. Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair while his arms tightened around her in return, “whatever you want.”

Neteyam tried to force himself to reign in his desires but thoughts of “What if” ran wild in his mind.

Maybe he could try to persuade the council to give him more time?

Maybe Xi would say yes if he asked to court her?

Maybe…somehow, someway she’d become his mate, his wife?

Neteyam shook his head, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, he’d have to figure it all out later.

But for now, out here in their own world... he could pretend that she belonged to him just as much as he belonged to her…

“Son, you should get some sleep. You’re gonna need it,” Jake advised, chasing away Neteyam’s vivid memory.

He pursed his lips beneath the thick leathered mask that hid his face as he heard his father approach. “Dad-”

“Don’t give me that. It’s been days, kid. You haven’t been eating either and it’s got your mother worried sick. You’ll be of no use to Xi if you’re sleep deprived and weak as shit. We’re gearing up to infiltrate these savages tomorrow with no clue what to expect. I suggest you get your ass to camp, eat and get some fucking sleep, because so help me, Neteyam, I will pull rank and not allow out there.”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam muttered dutifully, reigning in his annoyance yet knowing his father was right all the same.

He tore his gaze away from the vast, crimson tinted horizon he’d been staring at for the last hour and trekked down the stony mound, back to their camp of warriors- tail limp between his legs like a chided kit.

Casted by the shadows of the night, their makeshift shelters were hidden amongst a rocky valley. They were close, and having come such a long way, they’d stop to rest and recover for the night.

By tomorrow, they would finally enter the deadlands. Norm’s trace on the aircraft had died two days ago. He prayed to Eywa that it wasn't a bad sign, but suffice to say, they had a general idea of where they were heading by now.

So much happened in the past couple of days.

They didn’t leave home immediately after their update from Stephan. Strategy meetings were held, weapons and provisions for the journey were assembled, and every seamstress, weaver and capable sewer worked tirelessly to equip all warriors who were about to set out.

And thank Eywa that they had.

The heat had been a surprise to them all of course. They hadn’t even reached the “deadlands” officially per say, but yet a simmering wave had them all scrambling to cloak and cover themselves in protective wear.

Neteyam stared at his own covered feet as he walked. They were a nuisance in his mind, but they were a necessity. Who was he to complain?

His boots were sturdy and well insulated. Sal had made them, having stayed up for almost half a night before she tackled getting Jxo’s done.

And Jxo- well, warrior or not, there was no talking the man out from going with them. Neteyam had never seen his mother-in-law look so fragile when she’d learned this. Sal had hugged him tight and begged him to bring her husband and daughter back in one piece.

Their fleet flew for what felt like an eternity to him- days of travel that had his muscles sore, tired and aching. He glanced at the mess of tangled ikrans some feet away. Buddy and Journey in particular were entwined as they slept, and if it were not for their contrasting colours, Neteyam wouldn’t know where one began and the other ended.

Journey, the poor thing seemed to sense what was wrong. She was a stubborn beast, refusing to stay behind, nipping at his feet and tail until he surrendered and released her from the enclosure he’d been trying to lock her in.

As he forced himself to swallow a couple bites of food and swigs of water, Neteyam peered around at the tired eyes of the men and women so ready to fight by his side.

They were here for him, for Xilä. He had to say something…he needed them to know how much it meant to him.

With a heavy heart Neteyam made his way to the center of their makeshift encampment. He didn’t have to do much or wait too long for all to fall quiet and give their full attention.

“I can not help but feel such gratitude in my heart for each one of you. It's not lost on me, the sacrifices you've all made– leaving behind your families, your comfort and the warmth of your own bed. And for that sacrifice, I want to express my deepest thanks. Your willingness to endure this journey with me, it speaks volumes… My Xilä, my mate. Thank you for helping me get her back home.”

“You’d do it for any one of us,” Tasam called out with a firm nod, arms folded as he stood tall.

“Xilä is Omaticaya. Of course we’d fight to get her back,” W’aote chimed in.

“She is our future Tsahìk!”

“We are with you brother.”

One by one masked faces called out to him. His heart swelled, wishing Xi were here to see. Neytiri approached him where he stood, clasping their hands together as she murmured her own heartwarming words.

Later that night, while most caught some sleep, Neteyam sought out his brother who was one of the few keeping watch.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured in greeting, scooching across to allow Neteyam a seat on the high, flat boulder he was perched on.

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Neteyam plucked out his lucky dagger to fiddle with. He smirked at its still flower patterned painted handle, he couldn't find it within himself to remove Tuk's artwork.

"I need a favor…a big one," he asked as he twirled the blade skillfully, making flips and spins with practiced ease.

“Yeah, bro. Anything.”

“Dad’s right, we planned as much as we could, but we don’t really know what we're heading into… either way, I know it’s going to be a fight, I don’t expect there’d be no blood shed…” he adjusted the heavy cloak that kept him protected from the heat- it was ridiculously uncomfortable, that and the fucking pants.

“I’ve made up my mind on how I want this to go down. We’re sticking to the plans in place of course but… I need you to prioritize Xi for me.”

Lo’ak frowned. “Bro-”

“I want you to find her as soon as you can and get her out of there. Keep her safe. If Stephan’s ship is secure when we get there tomorrow, take her there.”

“Neteyam, the plan was that you would-”

“Please, Lo’ak… I need you to do this for me. Just get her as far from that place as possible. No matter what. I need you to promise me.”

Lo’ak swallowed deeply, glowing eyes set on his brother’s hidden profile. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “They fucked up. So now they're all going to pay.”

A miserable three days had passed before it finally happened.

And oh how it happened.

Between Xilä and Askadu, the whispers were spread throughout the clan- the truth, things they didn’t know, things that had been deliberately kept from them.

It started with a sly comment that earned her a backhand from the person who’d brought her a “meal”, someone’s leftovers consisting of rock-seed beans that had been mashed into a paste.

An underhanded comment to Askadu’s son, a sassy comeback to Vhin who had pulled on her hair hard in retaliation, and the best of best- a tear filled conversion to the cave’s known gossiper, a woman named J'ahki.

Those small seeds of doubt were planted and spread throughout the clan, creating hushed huddles and intense pockets of conversation- tension and anger building amongst the Li’ona people.

They doubted her words at first, which was naturally understandable. But the Na’vi of Li’ona were a demanding folk. They had a code- and sure they treated each other worse than shit, but they believed in their chief- the man who’d fed them lies.

Xi’s plan was simple- create chaos and wait them out. If she couldn’t fight them physically, she’d get them where she knew mattered.

Get them to turn on themselves, or better yet- Su’ko.

She didn’t know exactly how long the journey had been by the aircraft- she’d been unconscious for most of it anyway. She also didn’t know the exact number of days she’d been taken from home- from Neteyam, but she knew how long she’d been in this dreadful cave.

Three days, and now judging by the change of the guard she’d come to memorize, evening had come…evening bringing the third night.

Three days and three nights of miserable, piss poor living conditions and lack of food, water and sleep.

It was the nights that had her worried the most. Xi had refused to close her eyes in fear of anything happening to her while she slept.

Askadu had played his part too in helping her however- not just spreading rumors also. Overplaying his illness when needed so that she could stay at his side during the day was more than she could ask for. She could tell that it irked Su’ko.

The first night she’d been lucky, having the opportunity to care for the elderly man. The second night however, Su’ko had every intention of moving ahead with his plan.

And so, she’d been dragged through the clan kicking and screaming, putting up a hell of a fight until they reached his personal alcove. She scratched the fuck out of his face, kneeing him right in the balls when he'd gotten her pinned.

His roar of pain and anger was deafening when she gained the upper hand by biting down on his ear, holding firm. Xi was feral, she clamped onto the flesh until blood coated her mouth and tip was ripped right off.

When Su'ko had stumbled back, hands cupping his gushing injury, his eyes were wide in disbelief? Shock? Fear? Xi didn't care, she simply stood to her full hight, spat the tip of his ear and a mouthful of blood right at him, stance widening as she readied herself for another round.

Su'ko had gone livid, blade pulled from his hip with every intention to kill her she knew.

But as luck or fate or Eywa would have it, a land quake erupted, rocking and shaking the entire cave with a powerful vengeance. Dust clouded the air and rubble fell from the ceiling as people scrambled in screams of terror.

Xi had been abandoned, still chained and unable to escape even if she wanted to. Instead, she curled into a ball beneath the scrapped sheet of metal she’d been shackled to.

On that night, three of Li’ona’s people died.

When all went calm again, Su’ko had his ear tended to by an overly worried and all too happy to help Vhin. Then, he and many others worked tirelessly at the cave’s entrance, desperately trying to clear away the rocks and rubble that had filled their only way out- trapping them from the outside.

And then came tonight.

The night it all went spiraling.

“SU’KO!”

From what she now called, “her seat” a ledge a few feet above the rest of the clan, but lower than Su’ko’s, a shackled Xilä watched as an angry Na’vi hostilely approached the Li’ona leader who’d just entered the cave.

Xi prayed that her plan had finally worked. She didn’t think she’d be as lucky again tonight since just before he left, Su’ko had threatened to claim her upon his return, then kill her for her actions.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from us, oh mighty leader,” the man snarked sarcastically.

Su’ko and his band of warriors had just returned from their all day hunt, which unsurprisingly, by the look of things, wielded only two measly skinny dirt-vermin.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, Balynn. What is this about?” Su’ko asked, already on the alert as he noticed the accusatory glares scattered around the cave, some not as obvious while others were blazing in blatancy towards him.

“The girl, Su’ko…Talk is,” he turned and shot her a loathsome glare with a pointed finger, “she’s an Omatikaya’s whore. She’s fucking claimed by Toruk Makto’s boy.”

“Lies!” Su’ko roared, baring fanged teeth as he dropped his kill to step forward.

“She told me so herself,” Vhin chipped in unhelpfully- hip cocked and arms folded, “what does it matter though, Balynn? Su’ko makes the ru-”

“Silence bitch. It matters. All of you. Fools!” he hissed at the leader in particular. “Don’t you know what this means? She is Omatikaya! Taken… claimed before Eywa. They see her as one of their own.”

By the look on their leader’s face, realization seemed to dawn upon him, he caught what the man was trying to say. Su'ko fiddled with the bandage that was poorly administered to his ear, face morphing into a pained wince before he was masking it again.

Xi thought he was one tough bastard. He hadn't even taken anything for the pain.

“We should just kill her!” someone called out.

“String her up!” another yelled.

“No!” Balynn bellowed. “If you kill her, they’ll kill us all. They have a fucking army! I should know! I fought with them against the wicked ones years ago! They have weapons, demon made weapons! Faster, and far more deadly than an arrow.”

An echoing dread of silence rippled through the cave.

“Give her back,” Balynn seethed, “you have to.”

Su’ko’s jaw ticked- anger clouding his face. “I don’t like the way you’re questioning my authority, old man. You know what happens when I’m dishonored. Maybe I should string you up instead.”

“You fool. String me up all you like. But just know, it is you who will be the end of us all! They won’t let you keep her- they won’t let you keep your life!”

“Then a war will be upon them… we will fight! We will not let them enter our lands!”

A deafening roar of cheers and hoots ensued at the prospect of war, causing Xilä to swallow nervously. She didn’t want anyone from her clan getting hurt over her- especially Neteyam.

“They don’t need to know she’s here, though. They would leave if they see that. Just kill her, she is a waste anyway,” Vhin suggested, lust filled eyes falling on the man who was so keen on keeping Xilä. “Let me do it, Olo'eyktan,” she volunteered eagerly, hand reaching for the knife attached to her hip, "I could do it quickly, or slowly if you prefer-"

“No. Leave it!” he snapped. “We feast,” Su’ko ordered, clearly trying to distract and derail the conversation.

“And just what will we feast on?” a woman questioned. “Those vermin will not make a dent in our stomachs. You promised us food Su’ko, a bountiful.”

“Exactly! Where’s the rest of the food, Su’ko?” someone else demanded. “You never said that the sack you brought back was from the Omatikaya either.”

“How many other lies have you told us?!” another accused.

Su’ko blanched at the questioning, face growing enraged as the crowd grew rowdier towards him.

An uproar of agreement and disagreement ensued. Pointed fingers, bared fangs, curses and dangerous threats flew left and right. Weapons were drawn as one by one the few still seated got to their feet.

“Where’s the rest of the water and the medicine?”

“You gave us scraps!”

“Hoarding the rest for yourself, are you?”

“You’ve lied to us! You swore your truth to this clan!”

“Lies! All lies!” an elder roared. “You are no better than that bastard T'shteyo!”

It was finally happening.

The chaos…

She and Askadu had succeeded in their plan.

“SILENCE!” A man roared. “Listen…” he said ominously, ears perked as his eyes found the cave's entrance.

And in that very moment, when all had gone quiet did they all hear it…a chilling sound from the distance. The blaring call of a horn that warned of danger…grave danger.

Wide eyes and panicked expressions replaced the hostility from before, all attention falling to their leader as if he held the answer, as if waiting for instruction.

Hurried footsteps had them all tightening their grips on the handles of their weapons.

“Su’ko!”

The entire clan watched as a panting young man- no, boy raced through the entrance- exposed face pale in fear. The teen was probably one of the last to be born of the Li’ona people.

“Chief, there are people entering the boarders,” the boy declared, fire in his eyes as if excited for the prospect of a fight. “A lot of them."

Su'ko pounded the end of his staff against the ground. "Gather your weapons, round up the beasts, we ride out before last light!"

As the clan followed his directive, he marched toward Xi and grabbed her by the face, fingers and thumb sinking painfully. "Petal, your precious beloved will die tonight. I will string him up beside your father and watch as wild beasts feast on his corpse."

Xi's eyes squinted in amusement. "You're afraid. You reek of fear," she spat through clenched teeth.

His nostrils flared.

"Su'ko! Let's go!" someone called, pulling his attention away.

Su'ko paused, untrusting eyes wavering at Xi's words. "Dhgu!" he summoned his second, "Come with me, I have a plan."

“Get him down from there,” Neteyam ordered without emotion.

“Ugh, he reeks!” Lo’ak’s face squished in disgust at the sight of T’shteyo’s pitiful form being cut down from a high jagged rock. “Damn, I wonder how long he's been up there. His own people sure fucked him up… Is he dead?”

“I hope not,” Neteyam muttered, causing his brother to shoot him a mildly alarmed look.

The rest of their fleet hung back while a small group had broken away to investigate “the body” a scout had spotted.

T’shteyo forcefully peaked through squinted eyes- skin burnt and raw. “Wa-water…w-water,” he pleaded through blood cracked lips.

Neteyam crouched in front of the crumpled heap of limbs, head tilted as his arms hung lazily between his thighs.

“Where is my wife?”

“W-wat-water.”

“Where. Is. My wife,” he growled again.

“P-pl-please,” T'shteyo sobbed, bloodied fingers crawling at the dirt, reaching towards Neteyam’s feet in desperation.

“This?” Neteyam asked, revealing his own personal pouch which was secured to his hip. He uncapped it, removed his mask and took a long slow drink. He gave a satisfied sigh in delight, “Refreshing.”

Tears welled in T'shteyo’s eyes at the sight.

“Tell me where my wife is and I’ll consider giving you a sip.”

The man licked his lips. “They t-took her. Su’ko a-and his men.”

“Where?”

“Plea-”

“WHERE!”

“Past the village. T-they said s-something about a cave,” he rasped. “That’s a-all I know.”

Neteyam turned to his father who nodded, words not needing to be said. At once the Olo'eyktan ordered two scouts to fly ahead and check the area.

The sound of his name being called had him standing once more. “What is it?” he asked his approaching father-in-law.

“I’ll do it,” the elder said with a jerk of his chin in T'shteyo’s direction.

“Jxo, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have to…I need to,” he urged.

Neteyam hesitated. He’d been imagining this moment for days now- the moment he was finally able to kill the bastard who’d taken his mate. But Jxo, he guessed probably did need this more than him.

“Alright,” he relented, moving to the side so that Jxo could take his place. Curiously, he stood back and observed the elder’s actions.

Jxo tossed a waterskin and a parcel of food at the man before him. He waited patiently as T'shteyo scrambled without a glance upward, finishing both the water and the small meal within seconds.

“You...” T'shteyo said in shock, noticing Jxo for the first time.

“Me.”

“What are you playing at, old man?” he asked untrustingly. “Did you poison me?”

“Poison?” Jxo mused. “Oh no no no. That would be too kind of me, don’t you think? Too lenient…I just didn’t want you dying of thirst or starvation. Not while you and I have much to discuss.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak whispered to his brother, “what’s he up too?”

“No idea,” Neteyam murmured back as he too watched from the sidelines.

“Do you know what I do for my clan?” Jxo suddenly asked T'shteyo, gravelly voice calm and cool as he stooped and pulled out a rolled leather case from his pack.

“What?” T'shteyo was looking at him as if he were insane.

“I’m a woodworker. Have been since I was a boy…followed in my father’s footsteps actually. Anything you could possibly think of, I can create,” he said, “but you see carving, carving is my specialty,” he smiled- and Jxo rarely smiled, “lots of intricate work, detailed,” he emphasized as he unrolled the leather case to display an array of pointed and sharp tools and instruments.

T'shteyo’s face paled, realization drawing upon him at Jxo’s words. “Don’t-”

“Don’t what? Don’t hurt you? Don’t make you suffer? Don’t cause you pain?” Jxo asked. Face marring an angry expression, he leaned closer. “Xilä may not have my blood but she is my kid -my daughter. And you hurt her! You made her suffer, caused her pain…sold her as if she were fucking nothing!”

“N-Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried, pleading eyes falling to him, but Neteyam’s face was blank- void of any emotion as he watched on.

"He's not going to help you...see, like him, I know everything. Oh that's right, don't look so surprised. That's why I said we have much to talk about..." Jxo titled his head, scrutinizing the man, "You have physically and emotionally scarred my little girl since she was brought into this world. Did you honestly think you would get away with it?"

“Xi-Xilä, Xilä!” he whimpered then.

Neteyam was on the man before he could blink, knife drawing blood as it sank inches into his throat. “You don’t get to say her name,” he spat, murderous eyes ablaze, “You did this. I warned you, I even spared your life once. Not again. Now…now you pay.”

Crimson drops formed a small pool in the dirt between them and Neteyam had to force himself not to slit the man’s throat. “I’d kill you right this instant…but Jxo’s right…you don’t deserve a quick death.”

He shoved the pathetic Na’vi away, turning in time to spot the scouts flying back towards them.

When they’d been informed about the location of the cave, Jake began to round up the rest of their fleet, going over last minute strategies once more to include details the scouts were able to provide.

“You should go. I’m going to be here a while,” Jxo said to Neteyam as he fished out a sharpening stone and started to run it along a hooked-nose knife. “Page in when you get my kid.”

Hesitating for the second time that day, he sighed, “Alright then.” Neteyam signaled to three men. “Stay with Jxo while we head out. Once he’s…” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze when Jxo suddenly began to test out a flat headed chisel against a random rock- the blade sinking into it with ease, “once he’s finished, head back to Stephan’s ship. We’ll meet you there.”

“Neteyam!” T'shteyo cried again, fear crippling him as Jxo calmly tied a leather apron to his front, humming a tune cheerily as if it were just another day of crafting.

Neteyam shot T'shteyo one final blank stare. “You better pray that she’s alive… May we never meet again,” he said, before turning to stride towards their fleet.

“Bro,” Lo’ak shook his head, keeping pace with him, “remind me to never piss off Jxo, because I swear, your father-in-law is one scary motherfucker.”

Li’ona and Omatikaya.

Each side faced off- sixty feet between them as they glared and hissed at each other.

Neteyam and his father strode forward and met two Li’ona men half way, keeping them at a distance.

“Remember, let me do the talking,” Jake murmured to his son.

“Got it.”

There were no pleasantries exchanged, no signs of respect or polite greetings.

“You are not welcomed in these lands!” one of the men hissed. “Leave now, or we slaughter you all!”

Jake merely blinked, attention set on the second man instead- the one with the bloody bandaged ear. “My name is Jake Sully. Olo'eyktan for the Omatikaya. We mean no harm unless you don’t cooperate.”

“Jakesully, the mighty Toruk Makto…there is no need for you to be here! You and your Omatikaya filth must leave at once,” the same man sneered.

“Well we wouldn’t be here if you weren't holding one of our own captive.”

“There is none of your kind here!”

“Now that’s just not true now, is it? My daughter-in-law, Xilä, hand her over,” he ordered, once again addressing the second man.

“Why do you keep looking at him, I’m the one talking to you!”

Jake smirked behind his mask. “Because he’s the one in charge…it’s Su’ko, right?” he revealed, surprising the two men who tried to fool them. “Let’s not stall this out any longer. It’s quite simple actually. Hand Xilä over, and we’ll leave. That’s the second time I’ve asked. There won’t be a third.”

Neteyam zeroed in on Su’ko, fingers itching for the blade on his hip. The man clocked this and barked a laugh, finally speaking for the first time.

“So you’ve found me out then. Dhgu and I were just having a bit of fun. I admit you are far smarter than I was expecting Jakesully.”

His gaze fell on Neteyam again. “You must be the mate my new bitch keeps moaning on about…” He cocked his head to the side as if sizing him up. “She’s a feisty little thing, isn’t she?”

That was it.

Wait for the signal be dammed.

An audible crack broke the tension and pain bloomed across Neteyam’s knuckles from the sheer force of the blow he’d administered.

Su’ko dropped like a sack of yovo fruit, stunned eyes on the three men above him as if not realizing what just happened, mouth gushing crimson through his face covering.

With a simple press to the choker around his neck, Neteyam calmly said three chilling words that sounded through every person’s ear piece…

“Kill them all.”

And then all hell broke loose.

Both sides charged.

Jake attacked Su’ko’s goon just as Neteyam lurched toward the man himself.

The clans clashed in fits of knives, guns, teeth, fists, spares, guns, bows, arrows.

It was a bloodbath.

Brutal.

Savage.

Deadly.

Through the bodies who’d joined, Su’ko, the slimy filth, somehow managed to flee from Neteyam’s clutches.

Neteyam was intercepted when a Li’ona male threw himself at him. He fought off the fool with ease, blade piercing through his chin, sprinkling blood as it was ripped out.

Striding through the battle, Neteyam gained speed and gave chase. He was not going to let Su’ko escape.

The bastard was surprisingly fast and headed straight for a line of dead trees.

Coward.

Catching up to him, they attacked at the same time, knife clashing with spear. Their strikes were vicious in a song of snarls and grunts and curses, movements fluid and deliberate, flowing almost like a practiced dance.

Neteyam poured out every bottled up fury and frustration, vengeance flowing through his veins. He couldn’t kill T'shteyo, but this was as close as he could get.

Xilä flooded his mind.

Every bruise, every tear, every ounce of pain and hurt she’d endured at the hands of these lands, at the hands of its people.

This was his revenge for her.

He gained the upper hand when Su’ko stumbled and, lucky dagger pulled from the sheath on his chest, he plunged, and twisted.

Su’ko garbled in shock, blood trickling out from his lips and down his chin.

“For Xilä.”

Plunge.

“My mate.”

Plunge.

“Wife!”

Plunge.

“Mother of my future children.”

Plunge.

“Omatikaya’s destined Tsahìk.”

Plunge.

“And the woman who brought you to your end.”

Su’ko’s body dropped with an echoing THUD around the dead woods they were in.

Panting, Neteyam stared at the corpse without an ounce of remorse.

It was done.

Vhin seethed as her people were slaughtered. It was all that girl’s fault, that stupid, stupid girl!

She fled the battle and returned to the cave with only one intention.

“You little whore!” Vhin screeched, causing Xilä to freeze from her frantic task of trying to escape her chains.

She watched wide eyed as a knife wielding Vhin advanced on her.

“We should have just killed you in the first place!”

Xilä dodged her sloppy swings with practiced ease, but could only do so much as the chain became tangled beneath her. “Vhin, STOP!”

The woman laughed like psycho, reminding her of her overly disturbed father. “Su’ko is slaughtering your fucking mate as we speak! We’ll cut off his head and string him up for the beasts to feast on!"

An animalistic rage flooded Xilä’s mind where all she saw was blood. And with a roar of blinding anger, she attacked. This time not to subdue, not to block…but to kill.

In Xi and Vhin's tussle, the knife fell to the floor. The both dived for it crawling and kicking in a fit of limbs. Vhin managed to reach it first but Xi fisted her hair and slammed her face into ground.

Vhin screamed in pain as Xi wrestled the knife from her and forcefully tried to drive it into her face. They both strained and struggled as inch by inch the blade came closer and closer to Vhin’s face.

SPLAT!

Xi blinked as warm liquid speckled her face and neck. Her grip on the blade loosened, jaw falling open as she stared at the arrow embedded in Vhin’s temple.

What...?

Head snapping to the inflictor, there stood, with their bow was, “Leati!” Xi cried.

The warrior smirked, “You were taking too long to kill her.”

Scrambling away from the dead body she was still leaning over, a relieved sob escaped Xi.

Leati grumbled when Xi flung herself at her, hugging her tightly, but her annoyance simmered the instant they broke apart.

“Xilä…” she trailed off, taking in the horrifying way she looked. Shaking her head, she tugged on her wrist, “Let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t, this chain won’t budge!”

“Fuck,” Leati swore, kneeling to see if she could help.

“Leati, watch out!” Xi suddenly yelled as a rock went flying, missing the warrior’s head by inches.

“He’s dead! You killed him!” H’mdell, stalked towards Xilä. “He’s dead! What did you give my father?!”

Xi blanched…Askadu actually did it then...

Leati did not hesitate, she attacked like a flying banshee, leaping at the hulking man in sheer brutality. The two went stumbling off the short ledge in a fit of kicks and punches making Xi’s chest pound in worry.

“Xilä!” she heard someone call from a distance.

“Xilä!”

She hesitated to answer, it could have been anybody…

“XiXi!”

“Lo’ak?!”

He found her within seconds, relief etched in his eyes. “Oh thank Eywa. Xi, we gotta go, come on!”

“I can’t.” She showed him the chain, and he cursed.

“Here, stretch your leg out and block your ears,” he instructed as he lifted the large gun strapped to his chest.

With one precise shot, the chain was broken. “Let’s go!”

“Wait, what about Leati?!”

“She’ll be fine,” he assured, pulling her with him, giving her no other choice but to limp along.

They ran the length of the cave, bypassing dead bodies and still fighting Na’vi. Lo’ak led them to the edge of the entrance, tugging her behind a boulder, so they were hidden when a pair of Li’ona men came running in.

He turned towards her, ready to tell her their plan of escape but suddenly noticed. “Where’s your shit? You can’t go out there like that!” he hissed, momentarily ignoring her cuts and bruises to instead focus on her lack of boots and cloak.

“They stole it from me.”

“Oh those fuckers,” he huffed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Xi watched as he crawled away. Then, in less than two minutes he was back, beckoning her over eagerly. “Alright, the coast is clear, in you get,” he directed, untying his cloak to open it wide for her to share it with him.

She was lifted off her feet before she could blink and then Lo’ak was moving like lightning.

He dodged past the body he had just taken out and skirted around two females who were locked in hand to hand in combat, then out into the darkness of stifling heat. Within seconds, they were in the air as his ikran came flying out from nowhere.

Xilä curled into Lo’ak and tucked in her feet. She worriedly peered down at the raging war below for merely a second before Lo'ak was pushing her head down. "Don't look," he whispered.

When he knew they were about to approach the jagged rock, he kept her firmly locked with a gentle hold. He didn't want her to see in case Jxo was still at work on her father.

Good thing too, because when he spotted them, he grimaced at the sight. From as high up as they were, the sheer volume of T'shteyo's vibrant red blood was a stark contrast to the dull, dusty ground.

Jxo was not playing around…

They made it to the ship in no time. Stephan, a medic and two guards were there to greet them. Lo’ak carried her into the aircraft where she collapsed from fatigue, adrenaline wearing off, leaving her weak and aching.

“Drink up XiXi,” her brother-in-law said softly, pressing the sprout of a water pouch against her lips.

She drank greedily.

Lo’ak’s throat bobbed as he finally observed her. She looked like she’d been through hell. He gently brushed the back of her hair when she’d finished and slumped forward to lean into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner,” he murmured.

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“He’s right,” Stephan said, butting in. He gave her a sheepish expression from his seat on the floor opposite them- head bandaged and arm in a sling. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder…do more.”

Xi shook her head, a smile peeking through to let him know it was okay. She had no words, so she hoped it conveyed how grateful she was of him.

The medic had just begun to attend to her bloody ankle when she asked anxiously, “Lo’ak, is Neteyam okay? Have you checked in with him?”

“I haven't yet. But don’t worry, he’s fine.”

“Can you go make sure? Please? My husband is-”

“Will be fine,” he said firmly.

“But-”

“Xi, I made him a promise. Me being here. I’m honoring that promise.”

“You need to stay calm,” the medic interrupted, adjusting something on the beeping machine she was hooked up to.

But worry only made Xilä’s pulse roar just as fast.

“Hey,” Lo’ak murmured softly, taking her hand in his own, “Xi, everything will be okay.”

“Lo’ak…I don’t want our people to get hurt… especially my Ne- I’m here. I’m safe. They can stop and come back now…tell them,” she urged. "Tell him!"

“I can’t do that, Xi…”

“They’re going to kill them all, aren't they?”

“What do you think? If the roles where reversed, tell me.”

She pursed her lips. “I think, I think if Neteyam was in my position…I think I’d do the same thing too.”

“Well, there you have it. Now, please try to stay calm. Getting worked up won’t help him right now. Okay? It's Neteyam, come on Xi, who do you think taught us everything he knows?”

An uncontrollable huff of a laugh escaped her. Xilä nodded, then forced herself to take a deep breath.

Jxo and the three warriors accompanying him were the first ones to arrive.

Xilä broke down the minute the elder wrapped her up in his arms. They were both a mumbling, sobbing mess as they reunited. Xi didn’t even care that his cloak was coated in fresh blood that stained her already filthy clothes and skin.

“What are you doing here?” she asked through a blinding grin.

Jxo shrugged and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I may not be a warrior, but I know my way around a good blade,” he joked.

They stayed wrapped up for who knows how long, seated in a corner of the cool ship until she began to nod off- body aching and begging for sleep.

Only when the early hours of the morning finally dawned did they hear the cries of ikrans.

The bay doors opened and Xilä stepped as far out onto the landing as she could, searching the crowd of returning warriors for one in particular.

Relief flooded her when Leati was spotted unharmed.

Meanwhile, Neteyam, one of the last to land, was doing the same.

Through the parting bodies, he caught sight of her instantly and a flood of emotion lodged in his chest. She was a bruised and bloody mess, and still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

In quick strides as soon as she was within arms reach, he lifted her into his arms. Legs locked around his waist, forehead and noses pressing into each other as their gazes locked- intense and reassuring.

“Baby- oh fuck. Please, please tell me this is real.”

“I’m here. I’m here, it’s me.” Xilä tugged his mask free to cup his cheeks, “Oh Eywa, you’re just as handsome as I remembered.”

They both laughed, teary eyed and choked up. And unable to stifle it, a sob escaped him.

“Please don’t cry. We’re both here. We’re both fine.”

“C’mere.” He’d barely brushed her lips when she pulled away.

“I’m filthy,” she whined.

“I don’t care.”

And then he was claiming her lips, keeping her locked with a possessive grip on the back of her neck, and uncaring of their cheering audience as their tongues and teeth reunited.

Journey squawked loudly from above them, landing clumsily as she vied for attention. Neteyam walked them out a few steps from under the ship’s covering so she could greet her ikran.

The mountain banshee nipped at Xi’s hood making her laugh.

“Xi…”

Her husband was kissing her again, pouring out every ounce of emotion he could this time.

A drop of liquid splashed Neteyam’s cheek, and then another. And another.

They broke apart, matching frowns lifting to the sky.

Rain.

With a roar, the skies opened, showering them with sweet sweet rain as thunder rumbled in the distance. Xilä’s jaw dropped, palms reaching out to feel if she’d been imagining things but no.

Eywa.

Hoods were shrugged down and grins went wide as the Omatikaya people celebrated.

“It’s raining,” she whispered in awe as droplets fell down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply when she met her husband’s intense stare. “You’re really here. You came… for me,” she murmured, index finger tracing the soft flesh of his lips.

“Always. I'd move mountains if I have to. I love you Xilä Sully. So fucking much. You should know that by now,” he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I love you too,” she sniffed, rain masking her tears.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want to go home,” she said through trembling lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured, “Let’s get you home.”

“But wait…Kiss me first.”

He nodded, smile cracking wide as he leaned in. “Whatever you want sweetheart, whatever you want,” he said, claiming her lips once more.

I’m rushing to post this since I have an early appointment. So I may or may not come back to post a proper AN.

But as always, you know what to do lovelies :)

Seriously hope y’all enjoyed this chapter.

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

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hunny-beann · 6 months

Note

Hi! I love love love your first fic and your portrayal of dream!

Could I request two prompts from your hurt/comfort prompts? Specifically number 11 and number 52?

No Greater Patience

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! tysm for the request, I hope you enjoy the fic!

synopsis:

Prior to his century long captivity, Morpheus and his wife have an argument so disastrous that even after regaining his freedom over one hundred years later, he still questions whether or not he has the right to seek her out.

And yet, the yearning of an Endless is not so easily ignored by the mind, and he soon finds that regardless of his conscious thoughts, all roads lead back to her.

To you.

Prompts:

(hurt/comfort list here)

#11: Please don’t go. #52: I kept this for you while you were away // It’s been two years // I know

Warnings: A once unhappy marriage(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he still should be.

Word Count: 4,014

Having the opportunity to visit with Death again had been nice.

Far nicer in fact, than the Lord of Dreams would ever willingly admit aloud.

She had always understood him in a way that none of his other siblings ever seemed to manage, and she was far too aware of his flaws and his past to allow him to continue his typical path of avoidance without a bit of a challenge.

Of course, there had been many a time where that had been less than ideal, particularly when Dream had little interest in dealing with those things, big and large, that always seemed to haunt him so.

Still, it was nice to be reminded of the topics and people that he had neglected to consider throughout his time held captive, like Hob Gadling for example, who Dream was now almost eagerly planning to visit at his earliest convenience.

And perhaps he would have headed off sooner, had it not been for Death's one lingering question regarding her brother's personal relationships...

"Dream?"

She had asked just after he had stepped away upon making his intentions of setting off to visit Hob clear.

Slowly, hesitantly, the individual in question turned to face his sister in response, one brow cocked in question to make up for his persistent silence.

Death sighed a bit, almost looking a little unsure before she finally continued upon realizing how little time she truly had for this particular conversation.

She had a rather important deadline to make, after all.

"Have you seen her?"

She asked gently, a sort of pity in her gaze that immediately made the being standing in front of her bristle in response, forcing down the slowly increasing feeling of anger within him as he closed his eyes and took a single deep breath before opening them once more to find her still standing there, waiting.

He shook his head.

"No. Our last conversation was... less than amicable, and was several weeks prior to my disappearance."

Death took a few steps closer, and placed a hand upon Dream's shoulder, watching him fight off the urge to step away, clearly trying his best not to end their interaction on a negative note.

"Then maybe you should consider seeing her as well. Last we spoke she wanted to ask about you, I could feel it, I just didn't want to push-"

"Sister."

Dream interrupted her, his voice not unkind, but still rather stern, at least as much so as politeness would allow.

"She made it quite clear during our last conversation how little interest she had in seeing me again. I would not think it appropriate for me to seek her out in spite of that."

Death sighed, but removed her hand from her brother's shoulder, watching as he nodded toward her in farewell before beginning to move away once more.

Still, no matter how gently she had attempted to address the tense topic, Death was still an older sister, and how could she possibly call herself by such a title if she didn't do some teasing from time to time?

"You cannot avoid the wife forever, dear brother! Do not forget, you are bound to her until I come to collect!"

Dream rolled his eyes, and though Death could not see that particular movement, she could see the way that his shoulders shifted slightly as he chuckled to himself, his head shaking from side to side as he walked off to attend to his own personal duties.

Except several hours and a visit with Hob later, he found that he could do no such thing, as his mind was far too wrapped up with thoughts of his wife.

Thoughts of you.

He had always loved you after all, hadn't he?

You, a deity worshiped into existence by humans, meant to embody nourishment and nurturing, as that found in the relationship between a mother and child, or an owner and their pet.

You were unending and fierce loyalty, the fire in the pit of the stomach, and the gentle hand clutching that of a child during an afternoon walk in the woods, setting them on the right path while never disallowing an opportunity for adventure.

You were beautiful.

And so very deserving of a type of love that Dream had simply been unable to give you.

Sure, he had always been polite, and at times even kind, but considerate was not an adjective that any would have used to describe him, nor his relationship that he shared with you.

Still, you had found it within yourself to love him anyway.

He was cold, calculating, blunt, quiet, and scrutinizing. Dream saw all, every flaw and every weakness, and though it was a rarity that he would point them out aloud without prompting, it was difficult to know just how much he truly saw whenever he looked at you.

That said, none of that had ever seemed to bother you beyond what you could manage.

You enjoyed his company, particularly back when the Dreaming had been slightly less complex, and he had been able to provide you with conversations and time, both things that he would eventually cease to have very much of as the waking world began to shift and change, thus requiring the evolution of the Dreaming as well.

More people meant more dreaming, and more dreaming meant more of the Dream Lord's attention.

And what he had neglected to realize at the time, was that you were the very first thing to lose his affections, his thoughts, and his actions.

It was as if you had always been expendable without ever truly knowing it until he was long gone, a slight indent in the bed that was only ever filled after you went to sleep and before you woke up, leaving you the possessor of both of your rings as day after day he forgot his on the bedside table until it was nothing more than a habit long forgotten.

Where you had once been the love of The Dream Lord, it now appeared that you were his wife in name and nothing more, and though it stung, you had stuck to your duties for far longer than Dream ever would have allowed you to now.

You had always deserved better, even before the being had shifted his attention's elsewhere, and even if he had not known that then, he could so clearly understand it now.

You had never given up on him, not even when nearly all of your interactions seemed to end in dismissals on his part, or arguments due to his seemingly constant exasperation in general. You wanted your husband back, but he wanted to be the Dream Lord far more than he ever wanted to be a husband at that time.

And maybe he had felt that way, sure, but he never should have said it, at least not in the way that he did.

Because he had seen the way that your face fell and your eyes grew teary. Of course he had, he saw all.

But in spite of that fact, he did not go after you when you rushed off to be alone for the one thousandth time.

And the next time that he saw you, you had approached him at his throne in the evening, and quietly, meekly, in a voice he had never heard you use before, asked for a divorce.

You had looked defeated in a way that Dream had found himself surprised by, eyes shadowed, gaze cast downward, and skin slightly paler than usual in spite of how impossible it would be for you to have taken ill due to your godly status.

And any husband, or at least any good one, would have asked you what was wrong, or what had driven you to wanting to leave so suddenly.

But Dream had not been a good husband, so he had simply grown frustrated with you.

He had accused you of being attention seeking for your "childish behaviors", called your attempts at appealing to his emotions laughable, and had all but sneered in the face of your desires.

You were, after all, the Lady of Dreams, everyone knew you as such, and the idea that you could abandon such a title? It was nearly as unthinkable as him leaving his.

His creations, nightmares and dreams alike, adored you, his siblings, (or rather those of whom that cared), seemed to enjoy or at least tolerate your presence when necessary, and most importantly of all, the Dream Lord could not imagine a world within which you were no longer his wife.

It had been centuries since your marriage, and over a thousand years of knowing you prior to that, after all.

It was almost as if he thought of you as his after all of the time of you living within his shadow as nothing more than a figurehead, the wife of a powerful being who was seldom paid any attention to by the very "man" that she had married.

But to Dream's surprise, if your actions had been for attention, you were all too keen on taking things even further, because when he made these accusations in his usual uncaring and borderline insulting tone, you had shouted at him for the very first time that he could recollect.

"It hurts!"

You had cried, eyes brimming with unexpected tears of both anger and sadness,

"It hurts to know that you see me each day without ever truly seeing me, that you call me your wife while scarcely knowing who I am anymore. If me donning the title of Lady of Dreams is so important to you Lord Morpheus, then fine, call me what you will, but know that I do not consider myself your spouse anymore, and have no intentions of staying here in this suffocating realm with you any longer."

And with that, you had gone, and The Lord of Dreams had not seen you since.

Though he had thought about you plenty, as unwilling as he was to admit it.

Your words had gotten to him, though most primarily when he had been trapped for so very long, forced to consider his past actions and mull over all that he had endured throughout the passage of time in spite of how little it was meant to impact him.

You were his wife still, sure, but now only in name, and over a century had passed since he had last heard your voice or seen your face.

Were you still worshiped as you had once been? Did his nightmares and his dreams know where you were? Had you thought of him or thought to visit the Dreaming in his absence? Had you even known that he had vanished in the manner that he did?

All of these questions coursed through his mind, and thoughtlessly, without even realizing it, he brought himself back to where he subconsciously knew that you would be.

Your home.

Nestled deep within the woods of the waking world, in a rural town within a country rather sparsely inhabited, you still resided, unsurprisingly, to this day, and as Dream approached your door for the first time in centuries, he stopped himself before he could raise a fist to knock on the sturdy old wood.

What was he doing here, bothering you after so very long of giving you the space that you so desired?

Had he not made a promise to himself that he would leave you be now that he understood all that he had done to you? All that he had deprived you of by trapping a being such as yourself in a marriage as loveless as yours had been?

At that line of internal questioning, Dream sighed, and turned to leave, only to hear the door swing open behind him just as he did so, a gasp filling the air behind his back before he quickly spun to face the source of the sound.

There you were, a giggling and bouncing baby at your hip, with a bottle in your hand, staring at the personification of dreams with eyes that were beginning to brim ever so slightly with tears.

"Please, don't go."

You whispered, causing the Dream Lord's eyes to widen ever so slightly,

"I need to talk to you."

And much to his surprise, Dream was quick to oblige, stepping into your abode in only a few simple strides, taking in the familiar yet so very changed space and atmosphere found within the walls of your home.

This was where he had met you well over a thousand years ago by happenstance, though he knew all too well deep down that all things happened for a reason, and that his meeting with you had been preordained by his eldest sibling and the stars long before the humans that had created you had even existed.

It was peaceful here, in the deeper woods with you, in your fire-heated home so hidden from view.

Or maybe, it was you who brought on that familiar peace, you who made his physical form relax in spite of how tireless it was meant to be.

He did not linger on such a thought for very long, for fear of what he might come to realize.

"You look well."

He said almost timidly, eyes cast downward and body language tense as he tried not to consider how similarly you looked even still to the last time that he'd seen you.

Beautiful, as always.

You sighed in response, wrestling a lightly chiming metal pendant out of the hand of the child in your grasp before tucking it into your shirt and away from view.

"With all due respect, my lord, I have absolutely no interest in small talk."

You said quietly, watching as Dream raised his gaze to look at you once more, eyes following intently as you shifted the child at your hip slightly, eyes still not entirely rid of the tears that had so clearly threatened to fall upon the sight of him.

"You disappeared."

You stated in a whisper, sounding almost defeated even as Dream nodded in reply,

"I did."

He said.

You sighed again, and looked down at the child, gaze softening slightly as you raised the prepared bottle to it's lips, watching as it started to suckle with delight, chubby limbs wiggling within your grasp, though you notably did not falter.

You never did, you were far too good with children, a fact that Dream had always felt unsettled by.

He was discernibly not a family man, particularly back when he had married you, and the idea that you were meant for something outside of what he could comfortably provide you with...

"And now you're back."

You said matter of factly, using that same tone as before as the being in front of you was snapped out of his reverie at the familiar sound of your voice, his reaction instantaneous.

"I am."

He said simply, watching as you looked up at him once more, tears spilling slightly in a way that for a moment, caused him to freeze up entirely.

You had never been one for crying, not even throughout the many years where he had harmed you through his lack of attention and desire. What could it have been, here and now that would bring you to such tears upon his simple words?

He moved after a moment, almost instinctively, to stand before you, some longing once believed to be long lost within him bubbling to the surface as he raised both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks in order to wipe your tears away with almost trembling thumbs that had nearly forgotten the once worshiped feeling of your skin beneath their pads.

You sighed shakily, looking him in the eyes for one of the very first times that day as you shook your head slightly,

"How could you do such a thing to me, Dream? How could you vanish so entirely without a word to me or anyone that you knew would be worried for you? How could you turn up here so casually and think to turn away and leave without letting me see the realness of you for myself?"

The Lord of Dreams looked down at you with sadness in his eyes, and moved to shake his own head in response, his hands still soft and warm against your skin.

Alive.

"I did not choose to leave, my dear."

He all but murmured, the familiar nickname he had once used for you finding his lips as naturally as water did a spring,

"And I did not think you desired to see me again after our last interaction. Coming here, it was not something I thought to do. I simply did."

You gazed up at him incredulously still stuck on that first part of his statement,

"What do you mean you did not choose to leave, Morpheus?"

You whispered, horror seeping into your tone as the being in front of you faltered, before finally speaking, shame present in every word that he spoke.

"I was captured by a human, and held against my will for over a century. My freedom, as it stands currently, is new. I did not choose to leave and stay away from my duties, I assure you."

You let out a choked and humorless sounding laugh, shaking your head even further,

"And what you consider upon your exit from such a hell is not of who you want to see, but who may wish to see you? Where has my selfish King of Dream's gone?"

You asked, voice slight and smile lopsided as Morpheus sighed and thoughtlessly traced the curves of your lips with his thumb, finding much to his surprise that the shape remained familiar even to this day.

"I was not fair to you, dear wife, not for a very long time. If nothing else, I wanted to know that I had at least respected your wishes for space, though even that may have been self serving."

You adjusted the child on your hip, before you raised your hand up to your husband's, ignoring the slight way that he shivered beneath your touch.

"Whatever do you mean, King of Dreams?"

You whispered, watching as Morpheus gave a humorless sounding chuckle of his own.

"I mean that even today, I could not bear to call you anything besides my wife. I mean that by avoiding you entirely, and calling that your wish, I am able to ignore the fact that I am still not strong enough to give you the end to our union that you so justly requested. I do not wish to lose you in that way, even if I have lost you in all others."

You hummed softly in response, smile growing gently as you removed his hand from your face, giving him a glance that had him dropping the other to his side before you guided him to your sofa, where you sat the two of you down, you with a child upon your lap, and him with nothing but his most bare self, vulnerable in a way he had not felt since he had been so plainly naked behind glass for what had felt like all of man to see.

Seeking out a distraction, Dream looked down toward the child sitting upon your lap, before moving his gaze back up to yours again.

"The child..."

He began, and immediately, you shook your head,

"He is not mine. I found him roaming the woods a few days back, and have yet to find his mother, even after stopping by the nearest town. I'm hoping to hear word of someone searching for him soon."

You said casually, watching with gleaming eyes as the child took your finger and clasped it within his chubby little fist, his grin revealing his few teeth, just barely poking out from beneath his gums.

Dream could not help but smile softly along with him, though his was merely a shadow compared to that of the child sitting atop your legs.

"I see..."

He replied, and you gazed toward him with noted amusement,

"Were you worried that I had stepped outside of our marriage, Lord Morpheus?"

You teased, watching as the man in front of you rolled his eyes before responding.

"No, I was more hoping than anything else. If you had moved on, then I might find it easier now to do the same."

You looked up at him upon hearing those words, before reaching down to place the small child on the floor in front of you with a sigh, thus allowing you to better face the being sitting at your side.

"And why is it that you are so eager to move past me, dear husband?"

You watched as Dream cast his gaze downward, eyes trained on the child playing nearby in spite of the fact that you could tell his mind was far away indeed, off somewhere that you could not follow, deeply considering every event he'd ever endured in search of an answer to your question.

How nice it must have been, to be so knowledgeable.

"If I were to move past you, wife, then I might finally be able to let you go, and if I managed to do such a thing, it would be far more feasible that you could truly hope to be rid of me someday."

You sighed, and reached for the hands of the individual that you had once known so well, and perhaps even did still, causing him to look up at you in surprise at the sudden contact.

"And if I do not want to be rid of you, dear Morpheus? If I said that after a century I have found it within myself to forgive you for the husband you once were in favor of learning what husband you could be now?"

You watched as the being sitting in front of you stared for a moment, as if in complete and utter disbelief, before he slowly began shaking his head, the corner of his lips raising ever so slightly as he leaned in to press his forehead against your own,

"Then I would say that I have known no greater patience than that of my dear wife."

He murmured, causing you to laugh quietly with a subtle roll of your eyes before you reached upward, pulling a pendant on a chain out from where it had been hidden beneath the collar of your shirt.

Dream watched curiously, not entirely sure of what you were doing, until suddenly you yanked at the chain with such force that it snapped in the back, causing either end of it to come tumbling forward into your palm.

Dream raised a brow in response to your actions, but remained silent, seeing in your eyes that you were all too eager to explain, the glint there unsubtle in a way that he was immensely familiar with.

"I kept this for you while you were away"

You stated casually as you pulled one of two clinking pieces of metal off of the chain, revealing to Dream a sight he had never anticipated having the privilege of viewing again.

There, between two of your fingertips and presented to him with such normalcy, was his wedding ring, and he could see from the subtle glint still remaining in your palm that the other metal piece on the chain had been yours.

He stared in shock, reaching for the familiar symbol of his union to you in utter disbelief, even as the coolness of it's structure wrapped itself around his ring finger as he took it and slid it on to its rightful place upon his hand.

"It’s been more than a century..."

He murmured, his tone betraying his surprise in spite of how little emotion he typically showed, even in vulnerable moments like this one.

You smiled at him, shrugging slightly as you slid your own ring onto your finger again, sighing as if having arrived home after a long day of work,

"I know."

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream the endless x reader #morpheus x y/n #sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless fic #the sandman fanfic #morpheus x you #morpheus x f!reader #sandman x female reader #dream x fem!reader #the sandman fic #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fic #morpheus x wife

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delicrieux · 5 months

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 | endless oneshots (winter edition)

pairing—regulus black x reader genre—angst, doomed to fail trope <3 summary—what could the cards have in store for him? word count—1.6k

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

“you will be great.”

those words, spoken in a pliant tone, do little to move regulus. perhaps history, tradition, and the cumulative expectations of both had shaped him in such a way that prophesy meant greatness, whether desired or not. he will be great, because he is the only son of the great and noble house of black, and he will be happy, because he knows no other alternative, nor does anyone care to provide him with one. the reality of such an existence has weighed him slightly, made his expression pensive and head stuck slightly downward. happy. in a depthless, easy sense with no meaning.

regulus longs for meaning. you search for it in the cards.

you sit, and he sits in front of you, and together you are illuminated by the fire. the hearth burns and the carpet feels scratchy on his palms, and regulus likes the way you shuffle the cards — the rhythmic slide and click of expensive laminated paper, the soft way you breathe with the lower lip slightly gaping — and the way you draw — the flick of your wrist, the schooled expression, the lazy flick of your lashes, and the light twitch of your cheek.

in your eyes he can find a pensieve — not for their colour, but for a quality entirely different that in all of his reading and thinking he has still failed to name.

“naturally,” he responds slowly; he hopes that as you see past the pretty image held between your fingers, you will see past the layers of a lie, too, “that is all i need to know, yes? i will be great, and so this is pointless."

"if that is all, then i will not tell you more."

your response is too simple. "and if i ask for more?"

"you are free to. the cards not only speak of destiny, regulus. they can guide, but they are not a prophecy."

"so the cards do not tell the future?"

"the future is never set," you tell him, and this time you look up. in his eyes he thinks you might find a reflection, but it is only a mirage. "it is an amalgamation of events. each and every choice we make changes it and changes it again."

"so what good are the cards then?"

"they are a guide," you chide, your expression morphing into something vexed, "merlin, you grow more stubborn by the hour. the cards can only show the possibilities."

"useless. i already know my path."

"you will be great."

"i will be great."

"do you not wonder what that means, regulus?"

you speak as if you already know the answer. you speak as if you know everything. you are a seer, or, at the very least, penchant for the gift of one. like your mother and grandmother and the women before you, you suffer from fever and delirium late at night. they had gone mad prophesising a future undeciphered, and you shall, too, only regulus refuses to believe it only for the fact that he cannot bear the idea of your fate.

"what more is there to know? it is simply a title and an empty one at that. my father will be the minister, and he is great. i'm his son, and, so," and then he pauses, his lips twitching. "i will be great."

regulus is not naive. he knows the reality of the world he lives in. the weight of responsibility and expectation upon his shoulders is not one he is blind to. he has always known that his future is to be a facsimile of the past, a carbon copy of his father and a shadow of his ancestors. his fate is written and the pages are sealed. he can accept his but he can never accept yours. it appears absurd to him. the very thought scorns.

"is that really the life you want?"

"yes," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "of course it is. who would not?"

you could be great, too. you predicted exam questions, menial relationship drama between classmates, a meteor shower mid-june. the death of the heir. when you spoke of it, your voice wavered; in the candlelight, regulus looked hard for a sign of sorrow, but he found nothing.

the stars had aligned in a month with his mother's raised wand. sirius was burned out the family tree, leaving a stain of soot and a strange emptiness. you saw the change, and remained gravely silent, and your eyes, such pretty twin planets constantly calling him into your orbit, had poured into his portrait instead.

the cards seem meaningless now. a paltry mood has enveloped him and an ancient sorrow swells. the darkness of the dining hall seems closer, nearer, and the fire crackles and your clothing glows and your skin shifts with each flicker.

he wishes that he could sit in the gentle silence of your presence — however awkward it may be — until the sky erupts into another storm. a part of him imagines that it would be nice to watch with you. better than his empty room, the oppressive solitude he always seems to return to when he looks at you or thinks of you or remembers you suddenly and for no reason. just because he can think of nothing he would not tell you should you ask, but he realises this is less indicative of a desire to speak and more of a desire to keep you close to him.

the light hits and regulus is struck by a sudden awareness. a desperate longing arises inside him. whatever this feeling is, whatever this urge is, is overshadowing rationality and decorum. his palms feel sweaty on the taupe fabric covering his legs. he feels shaky and anxious and his stomach stirs with a familiar unease that he has learned to repress in your presence, yet some fluke, some unaccounted for variable in this constant, ever-growing, uncontrollable infatuation has taken root and is growing far quicker than any other sprouts had before.

an undeniable change is bubbling up inside him and he feels he might collapse into himself surrounded by your fragrance.

how pretty, how lovely, how much he wants to touch you. to stroke a fingertip across your bottom lip. how strange that regulus cannot tell you such. he wants. in a soft, quiet way; a greedy sense of need overwhelms him, so he clenches his teeth, shuts his eyes, and wills it away. in the darkness he thinks and then realises that the ache in his stomach is only a hunger.

"can you," he begins slowly, clawing through his muddled thoughts for a shred of clarity. he needn't see you to know you are at attention. he feels it, perhaps, or wishes it to be so. to see the truth would be to deny himself a selfish sweetness. a dog can live on scraps, but he is supposed to be more than that. he keeps his eyes closed, "can you see others?"

"others?"

"in my future," he clarifies, though he believes he is saying too much.

"in a moment," he hears you murmur. paper sounds as if brushed aside, and there is a brief moment of what feels like privacy before the clicking begins again. the slow, rhythmic thudding of regulus' pulse. his breath. your breathing is more stilted.

regulus is patient; when he opens his eyes you have spread out five cards on the rug between you. your fingers graze each one and he is envious. each movement is so purposeful.

"...i'm sorry, regulus," you begin, your voice lacking the confidence it possessed only minutes ago. there is a nervous drawl in your tone that disturbs him. "i can't see past the waves."

a metaphor, surely, but regulus knows he is sinking under the expectations placed upon him. in his mind, the words play in a loop: i will be great.

"it's alright," regulus says, his voice hollow. something of a void has overcome him and he feels cold — so cold. "you must be tired."

with another smooth noise — a soft, pleasant sound — the cards are carefully returned to their container. regulus bites his tongue. the dull sensation of a headache settles in his temples. a thought. an action. decisions not yet made. he wonders if the cards could show him each and every action he could have made to show you what he feels for you, and what you could have done in return. would they emphasize his failure or gloss it over in the vague fog marked 'past.'

"a tad," you admit, a bit lighter, the life pouring back to your face in a gentle stream. you look at him as if you are waiting for an invitation he can't find in himself to make.

is it better this way?

regulus feels a sickly disappointment stir. it sits heavily in his chest, an unpleasant reminder that he still yearns for something else and has given up on finding it. if he stares into the fire long enough, perhaps it will consume him. but it's not his element.

"regulus?"

"no," he starts before you can ask the question and beg the answer he will not give. "i'm fine."

"ah."

"a fortuitous reading," he remarks with a small, wry smile. "i am truly favoured."

you offer a lopsided smile back, though he is taken aback by your weariness. it is a glimpse beyond the false pretence of your pleasantries, and he knows you must pity him, even if you will not say. you are always saying things he wants to hear and not saying things he needs to. you offer distraction and praise where you should offer reality. what is the point in fortunes and dreams and spells to foresee one's future? such things merely lead one to misfortune, or, in regulus' case, a predetermined, inevitable misery.

he will be great, won't he? it matters so little. you don't reveal what hurts him. he knows that you can't see past the waves because you aren't there to cut through them. whatever future exist, it exists without you.

to him, that is no future at all.

hope u enjoyed! mwah! <3

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boxofbonesfic · 10 months

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Title: Brave [4 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You earn your water for the journey to Tarrath—and more importantly, a place in the pack.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

“You know what this is?” Carol’s displeasure with your distinct lack of tracking skill is evident as she squats down, poking a finger hard into the dust. You squint as you reach for an answer, knowing you won’t find one. She sighs heavily.

“This is deer-sign,” she says, motioning for you to squat down like her. You do, the ragged remains of your skirt pooling around you. It’s riddled with holes now, long tears spreading up from the filthy hem that go almost to your knees. The pack isn’t scandalized by the sight of your ankles, however, and your concern for modesty in the face of your very survival is surprisingly low, so you haven’t bothered trying to repair them.

Carol fingers the snapped shafts of grass, their feathered tips bowed low. “You see the way it’s broken? With the prints, you can tell it’s gone this way. If you can’t smell it.” She adds, and you sigh.

“You know I cannot.” She shakes her head at your unsatisfactory response, furrowing her brows.

“How do your people even hunt?” She complains exasperatedly, standing up to her full height.

“Skill.” You answer dryly. “And no small amount of luck, in my case,” you mutter, wiping your hands on your skirts as you stand. “This way?”

“Yes.”

You’re practically swallowed by the grass, barely able to see over the top of it standing on your toes—so it takes you longer to see it than Carol. Her eyes narrow, ivory white fangs hanging down over her lips as she scents the air and grins.

“We’re close.” You can’t smell anything but the dry, hot wind pushing your sweat-laden hair back from your face. What you see, though, are the three-pronged hoof prints in the dirt that tell of the animal that came this way, the tufts of downy coat left snagged on the brush. You pinch the soft hair between your fingers, and sniff it as Carol nods encouragingly. It’s musky, with a distinct animal smell that makes you grimace.

“Get your bow ready.” You do, pulling it from the strap on your back. It’s heavy; the buckle is almost as big as your head, but Carol had cut the leather down to size for you, slicing off a piece almost the length of your arm with the hunting knife at her side.

“Show me how you draw. No, not like that. Here.” You feel like a child, the way she scolds the position of your hands when you draw back the string. “Were you an orc wean, you’d have been born with a bow in hand. But I suppose it isn’t abysmal for someone who first held one a day ago.”

She leads you through the shifting grass-sea, crawling through the dust towards a stunted copse of dry trees. You stay low, mirroring Carol’s low-squat as she makes her way through. She is careful not to break any branches, taking her time to pick her way through the brush as quietly as possible. And therefore, so are you. There is water here—a little. You can taste the way it saturates the air, and a thrill passes through you. Water, here, means prey.

The two of you stay low, approaching the muddy little pool with baited breath. The air is still, liable to shift at any moment, but Carol doesn’t seem nervous. You are, though, your palms moist and your heart beating so hard you fear everything within a mile can hear it.

There, on the other side of the pool, is the deer. It’s a fully grown stag, his long, spiraling horns at least twice the length of your arms. There is nothing soft in the grasslands, your father had said, the words scented sour with ale. Everything eats, and is eaten. The stag has short, thick, wiry fur, with a tail that was long, like a lizard’s. You watch as it leans down toward the muddy puddle, snuffling through it with a long, pointed snout.

You draw back on the string as he stands up, nostrils flaring. It digs into the meat of your fingers as you pull back with all your strength and let go, the arrow whistling through the air to strike the stag through the fore-shank. It’s mouth opens too wide as it shrieks, the sound echoing out into the wilderness.

“Move!” Carol yells as the stag paws the ground with its good leg, bloody foam frothing around its nostrils. It charges only a moment later, turning the dry, hollowed out trees you’d been using for cover into splinters and kindling. You roll away, the metallic stench of its blood strong in your nostrils and your own heart thundering in you ears. You push yourself up to your feet, your hand going to the quiver at your back.

The stag’s tail whips excitedly behind it as it snaps its jaws, circling you. You can smell it, the hot copper of its blood, the sweat gleaming on its flanks and the sour tang of your own fear. The stag lowers its head, its horns pointed straight at your chest as it charges. You barely have time to aim, bringing the bow up and loosing the arrow.

It thuds wetly into the stag’s chest, and with another horrible scream it collapses into the dust, skidding to a stop just inches from you. Your own chest is heaving as you stare at its body, wide eyed. It feels like you aren’t getting any air as you gulp down breaths that taste of hot dust and fresh blood. You watch as the stag twitches in the dust, its chest heaving once, twice, before its amber eyes go dark. Your legs give out, dropping you to your knees in the dirt.

Carol emerges from the brush on the other side of the stag’s body, but you do not see her, not really, your eyes locked on the thick arrows protruding from its hide like misbegotten horns. She smooths a hand over its eyes, closing them, before she squats over the carcass. Silently, she jabs a thumb into one of its sluggishly bleeding wounds, before crouching in front of you. She grabs your chin, before swiping her bloody fingers down over your cheeks.

She gives you a pleased look as she stands away, and you lightly touch the streaky marks of sticky red she’s left on your skin, your brows furrowing with confusion.

“You earned them.” She says proudly, painting another few stripes on your forehead for good measure. Carol helps you drag your kill back to camp, a murmur passing through the pack at the sight of you. Steve es sat by the water, his broadsword laid across his thighs as he cleans it. He stands as you approach, and you duck your head as he inspects the stag. Your breath hitches in your throat as he reaches for you, one massive finger sliding beneath your chin as he tilts it up.

“Let them see your honor, little hunter,” he says, smoothing his thumb gently over one of Carol’s marks. “Let them see.”

to be continued…

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sc0tters · 7 months

Text

Heartless | Sidney Crosby

summary: when you finally arrive back to the rink you once called home, the last thing you expect is that the now legend from PIT forgets who he was once to you.

dreamer: chapter one

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.38k

authors note: I know how long some of you’ve been waiting for this series so I want to thank you! This was a bit of a weird chapter but it was just so we could set the ground for the rest of the work to come in later. I truly cannot wait to show you all where this one is going to go!

Today was the start of something new.

Or at least that was what you told yourself as you stood in the cool breeze that whirled around the city of Pittsburgh. Everything had gone your way today and the universe was clearly on your side.

You had woken up early, gotten an A on a paper you just got back, your Amazon delivery had arrived early. And most importantly your favourite coffee shop was still open letting you get something to eat before you were meant to be at the rink “watch where you’re going jackass!” You yelled as a car drove you off the road.

It was a pretty black land rover who only responded with the hit of the horn causing your brows to furrow “what a dick.” You scoffed watching the car speed off.

Now your coffee was soaking into the tar of the road as your croissant was being eaten by pigeons that had found you. So much for it being a good day, I guess.

Everything in your Arsenal that you could try to do to calm down as you wanted to have a clear mind for your first day “not everything is going to go your way.” Marc-André reminded you as he stared at you.

Despite having three children under the age of ten, you were still his baby just like the rest of your siblings “yeah but dad-” you whined parking your car as you looked at the PPG Arena “you know I’m being honest kid.” He mumbled knowing that he should have been in Pittsburgh as you started the season.

It made you roll you eyes “where is mom when you need some moral support?” You complained shutting the car door behind you as you stared up at the sky.

The grey sky seemed comforting as you heard the rough clouds come together as thunder claps roared over the city “she is with your sister but she’d also want you to just breathe.” His voice was clear making you roll your eyes “I hate it when you’re right.” You grumbled as a small smile formed on your lips.

Even with your rough exterior your father knew how to break you down in an attempt to get you to the soft state that had him wrapped around your finger “no you don’t.” Marc-André laughed as he shook his head “now go make me proud and play nice.” His words made you grin as you raked your fingers through your hair.

Pictures of the younger version of your father were up on the walls as you saw some of your favourite people from when you were a child growing up “I should get going dad.” You looked at your watch fearing that you were going to be late.

With that he snapped his fingers before he sent you a salute as you did the same thing “love you kid.” You pressed your fingers to your lips as the line ended.

You took a moment to study the welcome area and all of the trophies that the Penguins had won “I didn’t know we let fans in here today.” A voice came from behind you that causing you to spin on your feet.

Kris held a friendly face as you turned to a panic “I’m so sorry!” You blurted out as your cheeks reddened “I am actually the new intern for the physios office and uh-” you trailed off going quiet when the slap of his hand to his mouth cut you off.

It wasn’t often that Kris was left shocked “sparky you’ve gotten so big!” His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into a hug.

Sparky was the title you picked up as a kid due to the fact that once when nobody on the team could get you to stop crying. Until your Sidney shocked himself plugging his phone charger into the wall.

Your reaction had most of the guys laughing as Sidney had to recreate his response to it in order to make sure you stayed smiling. Then it stuck after your dad dressed you up as a lightbulb for Halloween that year.

You smiled as he dropped his hands to his sides trying to comprehend that you were old enough to be working “I’ve gotten an internship here with the physio team.” You explained ignoring his crazy you felt admitting to the fact that you were actually there and this was no longer a note on your vision board.

Kris felt like a proud parent “always thought you’d land up somewhere like that.” The physios from when your dad was at the team used to entertain you when you came with him to work when your mom was busy with college work.

His words made your heart throb “enough about me, how are you-” before you could even get your words out the sound of a door slamming cut you both off.

Spinning around a smile formed on your face as you locked eyes with Sidney Crosby. You were like ever other child who was practically in awe of him, you were one of the lucky few who got to grow up with him so that made him all that much cooler to you “surprised to see you got here before you got knocked by another car.” His words made your face drop as your eyes went wide “excuse me?” You sucked at your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him.

Sidney hadn’t even acknowledged that Kris was around yet “you couldn’t even use your eyes to see that I was driving.” That comment made you gasp as pieces began to click in your mind “you’re jackass!” You gasped feeling your jaw go slack “sorry could like someone maybe catch me up?” Kris pleaded as he grew confused.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to turn your glares at him “someone is just an entitled-” he was cut off as doctor McLane walked into the area joining the three of you “I’m so happy to se you’ve made it!” She clasped her hands together as she saw you.

Melissa turned her attention to the two players “I’m glad to see you’ve met the new physio intern y/n F-” before she could finish introducing her you had to interrupt “just y/n will do.” You smiled sending her a nod.

Before you had the chance to continue the argument with Sidney you were knocked off of your feet as he pushed past you to get to the locker room “I promise the rest of the guys will be easier than that.” Kris sent you a smile as he helped you back up. If only he really knew how awful that day would get.

Sidney couldn’t believe that luck had been so against him today as you had to show up at work today, the one place he truly thought that he could get away from young people who thought they knew more than they did.

But not even how much you had pissed him off could have stopped him from smiling as he accepted that FaceTime call from Marc-André “you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Sidney sighed as he sunk into his seat “hope y/n didn’t have too much to do with that.” Your father teased as you used to run laps around Sidney when you went through the phases of having Sidney as your favourite penguin.

It made Sidney stop in his tracks though as the question weighed on his mind “how do you know about her?” The words left his lips quicker than he could have thought about it “did you forget the part where I fathered her?” The older boy laughed as he spoke in a duh tone.

If you had known about the way that the colour drained from Sidney’s face you honestly would have been upset that you hadn’t been there to see it in person “do you seriously not remember how I told you that y/n was going to be the new intern for the physios.” Marc-André couldn’t see Sidney’s response as he dropped his phone.

This meant that not only was Sidney going to have to put up with you, it also meant that he was going to have to act like he liked it too.

#dreamer series #Sidney Crosby imagines #Sidney Crosby oneshots #sidney crosby x reader #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot

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juicyolpickle · 27 days

Text

Finally finished this sheet about the Zaabuas pregnancy process. The Zaabua do have their sexual differences but only the male and female can get pregnant and give birth, while the vonithral who are a whole complete new sex to the female and male cannot.

The vonithrals are the only ones of the 3 sexes to have the capability to produce fatty nutrient rich milk for the new borns and adults Zaabuas. These have not been illustrated yet but I do plan to show off the male, female, and vonithrals, sexual dimorphism and their unique individual characteristics in the near future. If either the male or female carry children they automatically earn the title of “mother”

But enough of the sexes and more about what we are here for. Pregnant Zaabuas commonly only get 2 to 3 offspring at a time but in some rarer cases 4 to 5 can form inside the pregnant individual, though this is a highly risky process and most of the time both the mother and the developing offspring are at greater risk of death. As more weight being brought onto the mothers back might succumb them.

Though males are at greater risk of this happening as their smaller much less muscular bodies might become too much to carry, while females have a better chance of carrying more than 3 offspring, as they are much larger and have higher amounts of body fat and muscle.

Once the fetus has gone through its 4 month gestation period it sprouts out of from the mothers back with distinct two orb like sacs that are called cells. These cells are responsible for holding genetic material, sodium hydroxide, and warm water, this combination creating a heat pack for both the mother and offspring.

The orange outer cell responsible for holding the water, genetic material, and other general waste from the fetus, while the inner cell that the fetus is wrapped around is responsible for holding in large amounts of sodium hydroxide. These two cells are held together by a thin but very elastic layer of see-through skin, this keeps the two cells from touching each others chemicals. Though sometimes this is not enough from bursting inside the mother.

Due to lack of nutrients or a genetic mutation. Nearing the 4 month mark, either the inner or outer cell bursts inside the mother triggering the exothermic reaction and implode both the fetus and mother from the inside. Though this happens rarely among the individuals.

Another thing that could happen that isn’t life threatening to the mother but the fetus, is that the outer cell responsible for holding the warm water and carrying the fetus and inner cell in place could burst before birth, leaving the mother to excrete it out of the body mistaking it as the fetuses waste leaving the fetus without the outer cell. This wouldn’t be too much of a big issue as the fetus can still use the mother’s body warmth and have a slight chance of survival if it was later in development.

But due to the below -60 dagree weather on Borease if the fetus was still alive by the time it was birthed it wouldn’t have much of a chance drying out before shortly freezing to death.

#land of borease #spec bio #speculative biology #speculative evolution #spec evo #speculative fiction #xenobiology #alien species #artists on tumblr #speculative ecology #speculative worldbuilding #love my self some detonating babies

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philon-awards · 9 months

Text

Philon Awards 2023 Shortlist / Voting Form

(in alphabetical order of the title; shortlist based on the results of the nominations phase)

Short fic (word count under 10K):

An old earth custom by pkrosche Can We Always Be This Close? by ForFucksSakeJim Fatal Vision by ikoliholic I [43M] wish to tell my friend [40M] that it’d be logical for us to get married by Smile_Edgeworth One In A Myriad of Little Dwelling Places by CampySpaceSlime Spock 🖖 by vaksur & WerewolvesAreReal The Tropiest of Tropes by Spirkme

Long fic (word count 10K-50K):

already, and always by flipthebits Catspaw of Another Kind by Borealisblue Distance of Time by yassifiedjimkirk Home in a Mug by Lizzy0305 Milk and Honey by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Rain Dogs by gunstreet Red is by spirkme Reservations — A Sequel to Desire/Reserve by Herself_nyc Social Graces by gunstreet The Prince and The Vulcan by TonightNoPoetryWillServe Untouched by SButler Variations on a bitter theme by OrpheaAria

Novella/novel (word count over 50K):

First, Best Destiny, Part Two by Ophelia_j The Promised Land by gunstreet This Must Be the Place by gunstreet Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) to assess the equation of you by uhuraprime

Podfic:

Communicators Can’t Scan (or, how Jim Kirk learned to stop worrying and love the Vulcanese) by 1lostone For the Greater Good by cookiemom6067 Injured by 1lostone Interior Harmony by 1lostone Mistletoe Kisses by 1lostone

Traditional art:

AOS Spock Portrait by Nic Blooming Kiss by Purple_Enma Marooned? Honeymoon? Honeymarooned? by subterraneanna Spock by the Pool by SButler Spock's Lyre by lorvee The Golden Couple by Purple_Enma

Digital art:

A little sweet, a little spicy: k/s gingerbread cookies by PageofWands Heaven… when I held you again. How could we ever just be friends? by BataSann The Honeymoon Postcard by lorvee The Meddling Captain (Comic) by lorvee TOS Kirk/Spock in SNW Dress Uniforms by BataSann

Poetry:

Asleep by alainanmccoy Come Home With Me by ForFucksSakeJim Diamonds for You by Orabla I’m the X (Reprise) by eigenvectrix The Mountains I Climb by USS_Queertastic

Zines:

The AOS Renaissance Zine Legends #10 by Dovya Blacque (Ed.)

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changbunnies · 5 months

Text

After The Rain With You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Farm Boy!Changbin x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, fluff, initially intended to be light angst but i got carried away with emotion like i did with the minho fic lol, forbidden love (i cannot help myself with this trope it seems), sad / bittersweet ending :') (i'm sorry !!)

♡ Word Count: 13.8k (this was intended to be under 10k but here we are lmao oops)

♡ Summary: Y/N, a princess bored and lonely, craved nothing more than to experience the world outside of the familiar 4 walls of her bedroom in the castle. Conjuring her bravery, she snuck out of the castle walls, eventually meeting a man that would change her life forever; Changbin, a local farmer who didn't realize she's the princess, formed a close relationship with her that ineveitably turned into a budding romance. But now, met with her last moments of freedom, she prepares herself to have one final sweet moment with him before they are torn apart.

♡ Warnings: references to a parent being deceased, discussions of feeling trapped and alone, strict toxic parenting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is not a virgin during the smut scene in this but it is implied changbin is the only person they've ever had sex with, petnames (sweetheart, darlin', good girl and other gendered language), lots of kissing, marking (including biting), loose dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie, pretty self indulgent ngl lol

♡ Notes: i got the title from a short pokemon novel, iykyk. this was intended to be finished before the new year, but instead it's my first fic of 2024 and i hope you enjoy! as always you can read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Freedom; something simple in definition, but not in practice, those in high positions of power always holding it out of the reach of those below them who yearn for it. It's intangible in concept, something you will never be able to see with your own eyes or grab with your own hands, but it was something you always yearned for, more than anything- and in the short time you had it, it was pure bliss.

You never considered yourself a rebellious girl, always dutifully listening to your elders, commiting manners and elegance to memory, never questioning the role you'd one day be made to accept. But in the past year, you'd found yourself having a bit of a rebellious streak- in secrecy, of course, because you knew very well that there'd be consequences to pay should she find out.

It's not that you ever hated being the princess, or that you dreaded the responsibility you held to your kingdom- you just wish you'd been given more freedoms. Freedom to speak your mind, freedom to feel the grass beneath your feet and the sun's rays on your skin whenever you wished, freedom to explore, to make mistakes, to learn and grow and love the way everyone else in the world but you seemed allowed to do.

For years, there'd been a blindspot in the castle's defenses, a small patch of broken wall that guards were never ordered to defend or monitor closely, as the country had not seen war or received threat from neighboring countries in your entire lifetime. "We'll repair it someday," your father always said before his passing, though it never came to fruition. It was not because he passed that the wall never received construction, but simply because your parents always preferred to delegate funds to something more pressing than a relatively small breach in the outer walls of the castle.

Sure, the hole was unsightly when noticed, but it was outside line of sight for the townsfolk, and much too small to accommodate an army through- one person at a time, maybe two if you squeezed, could fit through at most. Apart from that, the fact that your father never used taxes to pay towards selfish things such as unnecessary castle repair gained your family high favor, with most commoners considering your father to be the kindest king the country had in centuries.

During the time your father was still alive, you often walked the streets as a family, talking to the commoners regularly and enjoying your time out on the town together, and you remember how it always felt like you were as normal a family as any other, too young to realize there was any difference between you and them. You can still remember how your mother smiled then, when she held your hand while your father held the other, the townsfolk always doting on you, and how cheerfully your every day had been spent.

Your mother was quite different now; she never smiled anymore, and when she did it felt so.. forced, sad. Like your father took a piece of her joy with him when he went, and she was unable to reclaim it. And it was at that time, when she took on all of the king's responsibilities by herself, that she'd begun to treat you differently. Stricter on your studies, never allowing you to step foot outside the castle, shutting down any talk of letting you out on the town or interacting with anyone outside the castle's walls.

And now the whole kingdom, who considered you to be the country's most beloved princess, could scarcely remember what you looked like; and even those who could remember would likely no longer recognize you. You were a child when you were last allowed outside, and now you were a grown woman, still confined by her mother's strict rules.

Despite the reclusive life you were forced into, many of the commoners still thought of you fondly- at least according to word of mouth from the castle's maids and knights. You were the daughter to a king and queen that were practically revered as saints, and many imagined that the reason you were always holed up within the castle was because you were studying dutifully, imagining that when you came to power someday, you'd be just as benevolent, kind, and intelligent of a ruler as your father was.

You certainly intended to live up to those expectations, because as stated, you don't hate being the princess by any means. You recognize that you have privilege, responsibility, and that people put their pride and faith in you even now, before you've ever even come close to touching the throne. But all that being said, it didn't stop your heart from wanting just a little bit more out of your life.

Simply put, you found it incredibly dull sitting inside the castle all day, the same lessons being reiterated day in and day out, as if you didn't already have them memorized by the age of 10. Eventually, your mother realized you had no further need for a tutor, and requested that the woman in charge of your education stop coming, but that didn't mean your afternoons suddenly became enjoyable; quite the opposite in fact.

The joy you initially held over no longer having to spend your afternoon listening to the same drivel you'd heard countless times from a pedantic old woman evaporated with the realization that even without a tutor to occupy for time, you'd still be stuck in the castle all day long. Your mother never permitted you to leave, even if you promised you'd stay close to the knights that would accompany you, pleaded with her to let you do something other than sitting inside all day.

But still, her stance on the matter never changed. You'd begun to resent her sentiments, to hate that you were stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The country wasn't under any threat, your fathers death was an unfortunate accident, and as far as you knew you were well loved, so what did she need to be so protective for? Especially now, when you weren't even a child anymore; you just couldn't understand.

You’d spend your days staring out your window listlessly, wondering what the grass on the horizon would feel like beneath bare feet. It’s a shame that you don’t know; you were always scolded for taking your shoes off if you weren’t within your own room, and besides that, the ground is littered with dirt and cobblestone all the way up to the gates of the town, which you had never gone past. Shouldn’t your youth be full of experiencing things like this? Why couldn’t you explore now and then settle down in the castle later in life? It didn’t feel fair that you were so clueless about the basic truths of the world, and instead had your brain filled to the brim with knowledge of etiquette and politics.

It was with those thoughts in mind that you planned to find the answers to all your questions and sate your endless curiosities by sneaking through the hole in the castle walls that had gone unattended to. After the first time you successfully snuck out to experience all you’d been missing (which took months of diligent watch and preparation to ensure you wouldn’t be spotted from a distance by patrolling knights), you’d slowly made your way further and further away from the castle, testing the limits of how far you could make it each day, gauging how long it would take for someone to notice your absence. To your delight, because you spent most of your days alone in your room, no one seemed to notice you’d ever been gone as long as you made it back before dinner was to be served.

And so, you'd stay out until sunset, exploring the town you'd grown to only ever see from your window, making sure to wear the least expensive looking gown in your wardrobe, doing your best to blend in with the commoners. Thankfully, the task was easier than you'd expected given that none of the townsfolk had seen you up close since you were a small girl. You were perhaps strange in behavior as compared to them, given how much you questioned what was around you, but certainly not one person suspected you were the princess- just a sheltered, perhaps eccentric, young woman.

As you became more comfortable, and got closer to the town gates with each passing day, your excitement would grow exponentially; the world beyond the gates was so foreign to you, even more so than the town itself had been. From your bedroom window, the fields that lied beyond the town gates appeared so miniscule, and you only knew what lied beyond because you’d been told about it, not because you’d seen it for yourself.

It was this determination to discover what lied beyond your limited world view that lead you to meet the man who'd come to hold your heart for the first time. You remember how your heart raced when you first approached the town gates, how your eyes darted to every corner to try to take in every minute detail.

The cobblestone became sparse, leaving nothing but dirt road to walk on, the wheels of countless carriages and horses hooves indented in the path, leading both to and away from town. You’d been told numerous times that beyond this point lies the farms that fueled the town with their food, and resources such as leather and wool to create clothing, blankets, and the upholstery on your furniture. And for the first time in your entire life, you were about to see it all up close with your own eyes, instead of vaguely from your bedroom window.

You knew their work was vital to the prosperous existence of your country, and you’d always found yourself wanting to know what it was like, to learn about how the world works not from a dull lecture or written text, but to experience it yourself, to truly understand the lives of the people you would one day govern beyond what you’d been told. To say you had a curious mind was perhaps an understatement; you were always full of curiosity about the world around you, but simply being told about the world wasn’t enough for you to be satisfied.

To experience with your own eyes, to feel with your own hands- that was what being alive was truly about, wasn’t it? You didn’t feel your life was meant to be spent wasting away in your room until the day you became useful. If you spent your youth seeing the world, learning about it from your own lived experiences, wouldn’t that make you a better queen some day? To know the plight of the common man because you lived it for yourself?

That’s what you wanted- the freedom to explore, to learn, to grow, and when the time was right, you’d accept your duty gracefully, and play the role you were meant to, but until then, there was nothing more you wanted than to feel the earth beneath your feet, to understand what a blessing it truly is to feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, to learn what it is that makes life beautiful to live.

With a deep inhale to steady your racing heart, you took your first step outside the town gates, trying your best to not appear too nervous and draw undue attention to yourself. You conjured all the confidence you could muster into your steps, your short heels sinking into the pure dirt before you. It was a clear spring day, the sun welcoming you warmly, as if confirming that this was a decision you were meant to make, that following your heart and exploring the lush earth is what your true purpose was.

You recall how different everything felt once you were fully outside the town- it was almost unbelievable how green, pretty and vibrant the outside looked when compared to the dull, monotonous grays and dirty browns you'd met with inside the town walls. And even the castle interior, while still pretty and not devoid of color like the town often seemed to be, still didn't compare to the nature that lied before you.

You saw children running through the grass without shoes, freely giggling as they play what you assume to be some sort of game, one you'd never had the chance to play. They were utterly carefree, and so full of life; how you wished you could be the same- just kick off your shoes and prance through the fields and the trees without a care in the world, with nothing to weigh you down. What a joy it must be, to live innocent and free, knowing nothing but laughter and love.

You took time to admire naturally growing flowers, to lean down to carefully caress the petals, to feel the grass on your fingertips since you’re much too scared to actually take your shoes off despite how bad you’d have liked to. Following the road, past the sprawling fields where the children play, you eventually came to the occupied farm lands, and it was there, just before the fields turned into seemingly endless forest, that you met him for the first time.

His was the last farm for you to observe, and it held a surprise that made you positively gasp in delight; animals! You'd always thought the farm animals you’d seen in your books looked so cute, and you always wanted to feel their fur or feathers, wondering if they were truly as soft or as coarse as they were described to you. Was a sheep’s wool still soft before it was knit into a blanket, or woven into clothing? It was something you were endlessly curious about.

However, you certainly knew better than to just waltz up to an animal that doesn't know you, and especially not one that is on someone else's land. So you settled for quietly observing them from outside the farm's sprawling gate, a huge smile on your face as you watched the animals graze. Even at your distance, it was still the closest you'd ever been to an animal other than a horse, and you simply couldn't get over how cute and soft they looked. Sheep, cows, chickens, ducks- all impossibly cute, and how you wished you could go and hug them.

You propped your arms up on the wooden fence, resting your head against them as you simply watched. It was almost funny how something so simple and normal to someone else's everyday life could instill such joy and wonder with you. And that's when you saw him; a single man walking out from his quaint cottage towards the back of the land, attending to the animals and filling up what you assumed to be their feed troughs.

His home, you noticed, was put together the same way most of the town was- with stone and clay, a simple but well constructed wooden door, and a decent sized chimney on the left that you were well aware was necessary to funnel out smoke from fireplaces in homes such as his. And it fascinated you how his home could look so different from yours when it was comprised of the same materials.

When put down simply to its parts, there was nothing that separated the castle from a commoner’s home other than the sheer size of it. Your mother would often tell you not to compare yourself, or the splendor of the castle to that of commoners or their homes, but you never saw any harm in doing so.

You’re all human, and the only difference between you and them is that you were born into a royal family and they weren’t. You think she focuses too much on title, when to you title is worth nothing beyond a name. Still, while you recognize that while you aren’t different from anyone else in a biological sense, you are when it comes to status, and you wanted to use your privileged position for good when the time came, which is another reason you wanted to see the country for yourself, to put yourself in the shoes of the people and understand them. How can you be a good queen someday if you understand nothing of how the world truly works, or if every decision is fed to you from someone else?

Really though you have to admit, apart from all the good reasons you had to sneak out, you equally had selfish ones. But was it so wrong to indulge your curiosity? You’ve tried many times to push aside your thoughts and to understand why you must stay solitary in the castle all day, but try as you might, this is all you want. To see, to experience, to feel; why was it only wrong for you to want that, and not for anyone else? Even if you’re the princess, you should still be allowed basic human freedoms- that’s what you believe, anyways.

You lost yourself in thought for a time, simply staring out at the scene of the man caring for his animals in front of you. You wondered if he was happy doing this everyday; was it monotonous, or did he take pride in it? Did he love his animals, or were they strictly the avenue he'd taken to provide for himself? You also wondered what you would be doing if you weren't the princess; would you be a farmer's daughter, spending all your days in the fields with the animals like he does?

It was oddly fun to ponder on, to picture yourself leading a different life than one you'd led up to that point; maybe it was a form of escapism, and maybe you had more grievances with your upbringing than you'd let yourself believe at the time, but either way, a smile once again made its way to your lips as you pictured yourself feeling the fluffy wool of a sheep beneath your fingertips, as warm, soft, and comforting as a blanket in your imagination.

The man took notice of you after only a few moments, because realistically, how can he not notice a girl blatantly propped against his fence, staring at his land? He’s sure he doesn’t know you, doesn’t recognize you from any of the farming families that have homes adjacent to his, and he doesn’t go into town nearly enough to have made friends outside his small bubble. So who were you, and why are you staring at him like that?

"Do you need somethin', miss?" The burly man called out to you as he started to approach, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. "O-Oh, uh, no, I apologize," you stuttered out, feeling instantly intimidated as he came closer; not because he was an intimidating person per se, because while his eyes are sharp, they also have a unique softness to them. It was his size that made you shrink back and feel small; you didn’t realize just how large the man was until he was practically face to face with you, and even the knights you’re met with daily, who undergo strict, intensive physical training, pale in comparison to the muscular physique of the man you in time came to know well.

You remember how he looked at you curiously, head tilting to the side as he watched you straighten your posture and take a step back from his fence. “I was just.. curious, about the animals. They’re very cute,” you explained and the man chuckled a bit, wiping his dirty hands on his worn trousers before stepping up to his fence. “I take it you’re from the town then? Can’t imagine you bein’ that curious about my animals otherwise,” he replied pleasantly, a warm, sort of prideful smile on his face. It confirmed his suspicions as well- you were definitely not someone he’s met before.

"Yes, I've only ever seen them in books," you explained further, a bit timid now as you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure a commoner of your age would never be as fascinated by the animals as you were; they see them every day, it's a normal part of life for them. And you recall scolding yourself, really feeling that you needed to do a better job of hiding your lack of worldly experience when meeting new people so you'd stop having interactions like this. “I apologize again, I must appear very strange..”

“No need for that, sweetheart. I think it’s nice- I’m so used to bein’ around ‘em, that I don’t really stop and take it all in anymore. Reminds me of what I got, so thank you for that,” he replied kindly, his smile spreading an unfamiliar warmth through you in that moment. He was very, very kind, and you appreciated that he didn't judge you or find you to be a fool for your innocent curiosity.

"I could show you around, if you'd like. Let you meet them," he offered, and you positively beamed, though you really should have shown some restraint in the matter. "Could I really?" you couldn't help but ask eagerly, eyes sparkling with pure wonder and excitement at the prospect of seeing so many things you'd never encountered before up close. “Course, just come ‘round to the front, and tell me your name.”

You yelled out your name as you eagerly turned and began to sprint (in quite unladylike fashion, you might add) to where you saw the gate to his property some time earlier. You could hear the man's laugh carry even as you ran (not advised in the shoes you were wearing, but you carried on nonetheless), stopping just in front of the small, modest gate. You waited for the kind man to catch up to you, not wanting to do anything rude or presumptuous by stepping onto his land without being specifically directed inside.

"You took off so fast, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself," he laughed as he approached you again, and your face immediately flushed, embarrassed by your excitability over everything. "Name's Changbin," he introduced himself warmly after he opened the gate for you, and you smiled timidly, giving a polite bow after you crossed the border onto his property. “Pleasure to meet you, Changbin.”

"Likewise," he smiled as he closed the gate behind you, and it was then that your first true friendship began. In hindsight, it occurred to you that you should've given him a fake name, and while he did ponder on why your name seemed so familiar to him, he didn't ever appear to put together that you were the princess.

What was clear to him was that you were from a wealthy family; after all, that was the only explanation he could reach to decipher some of your "odd" behaviors. Your boundless curiosity, your utter excitement for the mundane, an unmatched passion for all the small things in life that he'd never seen before in anyone else. A light in your eyes as bright as the sun, filling him with warmth and adoration, your wonder and inquisitive nature both pure and infectious.

He asked you once, what it is your family does, if being from the "high society" part of town near the castle is what made you live a sheltered life, why you seemed so (respectfully) clueless about things beyond the scope of inner-town workings and politics. You were surprised when he asked, and confirmed what he suspected, though you left out some of the very important details. After all, how could you tell him that the girl he's become friends with over the past few months, didn't just live near the castle- her home is the castle.

But you divulged what little you could, confided in him that your mother has high expectations of you, that she doesn't know you spend your days with him at his farm, that if she did know she certainly wouldn't approve, and he seemed to understand. While he may not be a high born man, he's no stranger to how haughty they can be, what with their superiority complexes and luxury goods, as if it's not working men like him that provide them with what they consume in the first place.

You weren't like that in the slightest- you were good, pure natured, with an infectious zest for life that he couldn't help but find his own joy in. Seeing you interact with the world, the happiness you gained from the simplicities in life, the wonder and curiosity you held for all things, both small and grand- it was a trait of yours he'd come to adore.

You learned from him just as much as he learned from you, and you truly reminded him how beautiful life is, how there is magic even in the mundane, what a gift it is to have, to be, and to feel. Changbin introduced you to so much, shared so many parts of his life, and you were truly the happiest you'd ever been, always looking forward to the next day you could go out and see him again.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked one summer afternoon when you were in stables together, you sat on a hay bale while you watched him care for Dolly, a beautiful, black and white dappled horse that belonged to his mother, whom she named such due to 'her mane being as beautiful as a porcelain dolls.' "Does being escorted in a carriage count?" you asked, and he laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"No, darlin', a carriage don't count," he said, smiling as you pouted ever so slightly. You were still a child the last time you were even in a carriage, given the fact that your mother never permits you to leave. You wondered what's more enjoyable; your memory of your last carriage ride is so faded, you wondered if you could even compare the experiences, were you to ever ride a horse.

As if sensing your thoughts, Changbin made an offer that once again made you beam, radiating joy and excitement. "I could teach you how. Or let you ride with me," he offered and you were eagerly nodding without a second thought, jumping straight to your feet. "I'd love that!" Changbin returned your smile, promising that once he got Dolly situated in a saddle, he'd take you for a ride while telling you everything he knows and answering any question you may have about it, no matter how small or seemingly silly and "common sense."

He helped you up onto her back, making sure you sat comfortably on the back of the saddle, both your legs dangling over one side of her body due to the fact that you were wearing a dress. Changbin got up onto the saddle with ease, carefully not to accidentally hit you with his leg while making his ascent. After he was settled in front of you, he instructed you to wrap your arms around his torso, as it takes time to become adjusted to the movement of the horse and naturally find your balance.

You wondered if he could feel your heart race when your chest was pressed against his back, how your palms grew sweaty from holding onto him, how your face flushed every time he called Dolly a "good girl", wondering what it'd be like if he said the same to you, if he praised you after he encouraged you or taught you something new.

But the more comfortable you got, the more he allowed Dolly to pick up speed, until she was going around the enclosed pen in a brisk trot, your arms squeezing Changbin as you giggle joyfully, feeling the wind brush by your ears and pull back your hair. It was so fun, so new, another experience Changbin granted you that you wouldn't otherwise have ever had the chance to have.

When you were finished, as the sun was beginning to set and it was time for you to get home, lest your mother send a maid to summon you for dinner and find you absent, he jumped off first, and then held out his hand to you, offering for you to take it, promising he'd make sure you got down safely.

And he did, letting you squeeze his hand as you made the unfamiliar leap off, his opposite hand coming to your back to ensure you were stable on your feet after you landed. His hand lingered even after it was apparent you were steady, and yours did as well, still holding onto his hand even though you no longer had need to. It felt as though there was a shift between you- both staring carefully at one another, a suggestion that you could be something more than this, that there was a connection beyond that of just friendship.

Slowly, with the same smile for you he always had, he pulled his hand away from your back, but didn't make you part from his hand, letting you hold it even as he walked you to his gate. And you felt a stutter in your heart, unlike any you'd ever felt before then, returning his smiles happily, your cheeks dusted pink even as you thanked him for the afternoon and bid him goodbye, every once in a while turning back just to him still watching you, offering a soft smile and wave each time your gazes met again.

Then, there was the time you were inside his chicken coops with him, Changbin having taught you much about how to properly care for the animals in your time near him. And after weeks of observation, you wanted to help, to really try your hand at it! You did well, for the most part- your error came when trying to get a hen away from a freshly laid egg.

You tried your best to follow Changbin's instructions carefully, but still, your inexperience was greatly apparent, and you ended up upsetting the poor thing. When she flew up in protest, it startled you, and you nearly fell backwards, but Changbin caught you, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you upright as if you weighed nothing at all.

You blinked up at him in surprise, face growing red as he asked if you were alright, your heart unexpectedly pounding. You muttered out an apology, voice much meeker than you wanted it to be, but he simply smiled, helping you steady yourself again to stand on your own, ensuring you that it wasn't your fault, and that he could tell you were genuinely trying your best.

"No one gets it right on their first try, don't be discouraged, you did good, sweetheart," he said, and the words somehow made your heart race faster, face growing even pinker. You were certain then- you liked him as much, much more than a friend. You wanted him to always praise you, to console you, to call you sweetheart in a way beyond platonic- to look at you romantically, to call you by such sweet names in a moment of love and passion.

When you returned home that day, lying in bed after finishing dinner and washing up, your thoughts were plagued by him- much more than they usually were, and in completely different contexts. How would his strong arms feel under your fingers while he held you up, supporting all of your weight as he took you in every way conceivable, across every surface of his home.

You'd had.. less than pure thoughts before of course, so it's not like this was new to you- what was new was having an explicit object of desire, someone you wanted to lie with, someone you imagined touching you everywhere, and you touching them and pleasuring them in equal measure.

There were many times you watched him work, sweat collecting on his forehead, dripping down his brow, his breath growing heavier with labor, his broad chest rising and falling quickly with exertion- would he look the same atop you? Body heavy between your legs, pressing you down, and God, you were driving yourself crazy thinking about it.

Changbin noticed, another summer day, sun high and hot, leaving him sweatier than usual, and your face hot and red (though for reasons beyond that of the sun beaming down on you.) "C'mon sweetheart, let's go inside. It's hot out here, ain't it?" he'd said, deciding it was time, for both your sakes, to take a well deserved break. You agreed, thankful beyond words he thought it was simply the sun making you a heated mess, and not how absolutely divine he looked chopping wood in preperation for when the weather would change in a month.

You sat on his sofa together, sipping on lemonade he made himself by hand, thankful to be out of the unforgiving sun (and to have something to focus on besides how attracted you were to him.) "You seem to be thinkin' a lot today. What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Changbin asked after it was quiet for a time, your cup of lemonade held in your lap as you stared off at unfixed location.

"I've.. come to like you quite a lot more than I expected. As more than a friend, I think," you answer honestly, though you don't expect him to do anything with your feelings. While he's your first real connection with someone, you're sure he's lived a full, experienced life. You feel there's no reason for him to like you as you like him, but still you told him, for you already hide enough about your life from him, and you don't want your thoughts and feelings to be one of those things you keep from him.

"I'm fond of you too. More than a friend, and more than you probably know," he replied with a soft smile, setting his empty cup to the side. You blinked, cheeks turning pink as you practically gaped at him. "Do you mean that? Sincerely?" you asked, heart thumping loudly as you too carefully set your cup aside. "I wouldn't lie to you darlin'. 'Specially not about matters of the heart," he responded earnestly, carefully moving closer to you.

You met him halfway, slowly, your eyes timidly meeting his as his hand comes towards you, resting heavy but soft on your cheek. "Tell me truly," he almost whispers, face coming close enough to yours to feel his breath tickle your skin, "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?" "Yes," you breathed out, and not even a full second later, his lips were on yours, plush and soft, butterflies filling your stomach and truly, you couldn't ask for any greater joy than that moment.

You kissed a lot after that- in greeting and in parting, sweetly, slowly, carefully, sometimes even urgently, needily, passionately. You'd help him with as much of his daily work as you could manage, so he could finish faster and you could spend the rest of the afternoon holding one another close, hands exploring anywhere and everywhere, both eager, both seeking more and more and more, both indulging in the feeling of not just pleasure, but of closeness, intimacy beyond just the physical, the love and care you share for one another.

But as quickly as your happiness was obtained, it was taken away; unbeknownst to you, on an afternoon in early fall, shortly after breakfast, a knight had seen you squeezing through the hole in the castle's wall, eager to spend yet another day with Changbin. He didn't think you were sneaking out at first- he thought maybe he was just mistaken on what he saw, but when he stepped over, and it became clear that you were now nowhere to be seen, he had to inform your mother, as was his duty.

And there are truly no words to describe how devastated you felt when suddenly, as if from nowhere, countless knights were surrounding you, pleading with you to return to the castle, lest they have to drag you back by your mother's command. It became a spectacle in the street, commoners whispering amongst themselves as they tried to piece together what they were witnessing, and if the sweet, smiley girl they’d seen exiting and returning to town everyday for months was really the princess this entire time.

You felt as if your entire world was collapsing as they escorted you back home, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, knowing your mother would be positively furious when your eyes next met. But no, she wasn’t just furious- she was livid, the angriest you’d ever seen her in all your years. You pleaded with her to understand, assured her that if you were truly going to run away from home and abandon your responsibility, then you wouldn’t have returned every single time you’d left. You didn’t want to be stuck here all day, every day, bored, alone, depressed, when there was an entire world out there to see, people to talk to, experiences to be had. You’d do everything expected of you as a princess, and later as queen, but please- just this one thing, allow me this one thing.

But no, your pleas fell on deaf ears, your mother completely dismissive of your feelings and unwilling to bend her iron rules. And so you once again became a prisoner inside your own room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the edge of town from your window, Changbin so near, yet impossibly far. Your mother didn’t know of Changbin, you didn’t tell her, nor would you ever, as things stand now- but how you wished you could tell her, “I’ve found love, and now I understand how truly a magical thing it is. I don’t want this to be the end of my joy.”

Weeks passed, and while the pain never left you, you learned to manage it well enough, hopeful that you’d be reunited with Changbin someday soon. But then you saw them- carpenters, working diligently to fill the hole in the castle walls that you had repeatedly used for your daily escapes. The color drained from your face, your heart sinking into the very depths of your stomach. Your plan to simply be an obedient daughter long enough for your mother to lessen her watchful eyes on you, to one day again leave the castle once her constant vigil had relaxed, was being thwarted before it could ever truly begin.

You anticipated to be in this act for the long haul, knowing very well it could take months, or even years, to rebuild your mother’s trust in you, but you’d never imagined she’d take away the very source of your hope mere weeks after confining you away to your room. To call a hole in the castle’s defenses your “hope” may seem foolish to most, but it was all you had- a symbol of escape, of life beyond these four walls that had become your permanent home.

The day it was filled would be the day you’d lose everything; your freedom, your friendships, your joy, your hopes, your dreams, everything. Even as you are now, a canary trapped in her gilded cage, the promise that simple flaw in the walls gave you kept you going- the promise that someday, even if it was years and years from now, you’d be free again, doing what you loved most, being with who you loved most.

You know your mother cares for you, she wants the best for you, and the loss of your father, the king, much too soon has deeply scarred her. She fears for you, she keeps you ever at arm’s length because she can’t bear for you to part from her, to leave her behind the way your father had, but surely this isn't the answer. Surely there was something better than this, something that didn’t necessitate you being a prisoner in your own home.

Fear of loss and devastation ruled her life, made her trap you lest you decide to leave and never return, failing to realize that it was her very actions and treatment of you that gave those fears of hers room to become reality. But to know heartbreak is to know truest love, and even should loss plague your life, you will never regret having discovered love.

You had no desire to abandon your family, your kingdom, or run from your responsibilities, but if that was the only way to be free, if there was no other conceivable way to experience life’s joys and warmth, then.. What else was there for you to do? Ironic, how your mother had unwittingly created a self-fulfilling prophecy when she forbade you from living a life of your own, her own actions resulting in the very outcome she feared most of all.

You have to do something, anything, now, before it’s too late, and you are left with nothing but the fleeting memories of the man you hold so dear. You bide your time, waiting until nightfall when the carpenters have left for the night to make your move. Your mother has posted knights to the spot now, instructed to keep a watchful eye should you try again to leave the premises, but you think with the right timing, you can slip out unnoticed.

There’s a small window of time where, when the knights standing guard rotate shifts, the hole in the castle’s walls will have no one standing in front of them. It’s risky, and if you’re too slow you’ll be spotted by the new knights taking over for the ones who departed, but it’s the only chance you have, so you need to take it. As soon as the knights previously keeping watch over the area get far enough away, you dart for the breach in the castle. The hole is definitely smaller than it was before, but you still manage to squeeze past just fine, with seconds to spare before you hear the sounds of the new knights approaching, luckily having not noticed anything amiss.

The streets are much different at night, the subtle illumination from the candles in the surrounding buildings hardly enough to point you in the right direction. You look to the horizon instead, hoping that the dark line of trees on the horizon will be enough to guide you to the gate leaving town. Some who notice your desperate run call out, concern evident in their voice, but you can’t stop for them, can’t stop until you’ve made it to Changbin’s side. And though it is not without struggle, you do, eventually, thankfully, find your way out of the town.

You’re panting, chest heaving as your heart pounds and your lungs desperately try to suck in air once you’ve made it completely outside the town gates- but still, you aren’t where you need to be, so you can’t stop yet. Pushing yourself to your very limits, even as your legs scream at you and harsh cold pricks your skin, you can finally make out Changbin’s land in the tree-lined horizon. Reaching the gate to his property, you push it open in haste, taking hardly any steps past the threshold before you collapse to your knees, the ache and exhaustion refusing to be ignored any further.

You bring a hand to your heart, taking a few seconds to calm yourself and breathe before you attempt to rise back to your feet, but your legs refuse the action, much too weak to support you beyond what they’ve already done. It’s good enough, you suppose; they’ve carried far, with much more urgency than you’d ever thought possible, and now you’re right here, so close to where you need to be- and despite being a princess, you’re not above crawling your way over to Changbin’s door if you must.

Once more, you try- and though weak, and unsteady, you are able to rise once more. You can’t run, can hardly even walk as sore and as exhausted as your legs are, but they carry you as far as they can, recognizing the urgency you feel, aiding you as much as it can in your last, desperate effort. Your throat is dry, it hurts, but you call out Changbin’s name regardless, hoping he’s awake, hoping he hears you, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around you, kiss you, console you, even if it’s just this one last time.

It’s been over a month since the last time Changbin saw you, and there’s so many questions he can’t help but ask himself, that he wishes he could ask you, so he didn’t spend all his hours distracted with worry and self-doubt. There had been gaps in the time you spent together before, but never for this large of a duration of time- a week usually at most. Did he do something wrong the last time you were together? Or did your strict mother finally learn of your deceit, and now made you keep away, unable to return to his side though you may have wished to?

He just wishes he knew for certain what it is, so that even if he was saddened, he did not have to have his mind consumed by what-if’s and uncertainties. There was a time, even, where he considered going into town and asking of you, but he was worried that doing so would only create more problems for you if the wrong person caught word of his inquiries. So all he could was wait- wait, and hope, that you would return again before year’s end, and that he would have the answers he so desperately craves to his questions.

Most of all, he just hopes you’re well; you’d expressed more than once that you loved your life and your family, you just didn’t want to feel trapped. You wanted to have choices, to feel like your thoughts and opinions matter, to be allowed to live as most other people do when you are not burdened with work. Whenever you spoke of home, he always found it unfair, and he felt for you- you loved your mother, dearly, but he could see how you struggled with her rules, how sadness lingered in your eyes and resent bubbled up within you despite how you tried to not feel such things.

And though he understood why you could not, he wished at times that you could simply stay with him- to not have to depart the moment the sun began to sink, to lie in bed with him all night, to have breakfast and dinner together, to live without worry together. He’d work hard for you, even harder than he does now, and it’d be worth it to see you smile at him as you always do, so bright and full of light, keeping each other company on your loneliest days and nights.

Changbin sighs, exhaustion plaguing him as he sits before the small fire he has going in his living room, head falling back against his sofa. He hasn’t slept well these past few nights- he just can’t help but think of you at all hours, and every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he’s met with the image of you. It keeps him up, though not all his thoughts of you are plagued by unpleasant worry- sometimes it’s simply just the image of you smiling or laughing, and he feels nothing but warmth, even as he is reminded how much he truly misses you.

Should you never return again, for whatever reason that may be, he doesn’t think he would ever regret having known you and given his love to you. Short-lived though your romance may be in the grand scheme of his life, and all the years he may be blessed to live, it was of the utmost importance, and he’d be remiss to let those memories become tarnished or devalued. You reminded him of how much joy there is in life, how grateful he is to have what he does, how much beauty there is in even the smallest of things.

Another sigh leaves his lips as he lifts his head, rubbing carefully at his weary eyes- he should probably try to rest soon, though he feels sleep will likely stay out his reach for some time after his head hits the pillows. He stands from the sofa, preparing himself to extinguish the fire and head to bed, when he hears a strange, unfamiliar sound from outside his door. A thud, almost- as if something with a not insubstantial amount of weight thumped to the ground.

It couldn’t be his logs- he knew the sound of falling logs well enough to recognize the distinct sound made when one toppled, and often times when one fell, more followed. This was unlike that entirely, only one sound followed by silence, and the sound itself was still too dense to be one of his pieces of chopped wood. The sound felt more.. concentrated; an animal perhaps? And if it was an animal, he couldn’t let it go ignored- especially not if it was one of his own.

As Changbin steps closer to his door to investigate the sound, he hears something else entirely unexpected- a frail voice.. your voice..? Rushing to his door now, he opens it in haste, eyes darting to find the source of what he heard. And there, he sees you, collapsed to the ground before him, looking up at him with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and anguish. “Y/N-” he gasps as he leans down to you, concern evident in his voice and expression, hands reaching out to touch you and shit, your body is freezing; you are woefully ill dressed for the fall chill, and who knows how long you’ve been out in it with nothing but your dress.

Quickly, he picks you up, carrying you inside and using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. “Just sit here a minute,” he says as he sits you down on the sofa, rushing to his room to grab all the blankets and pillows he can carry. He prepares a sort of makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fireplace, laying down a couple blankets and pillows, with the intention to have you lay by the fire and spread some much needed warmth through your chilled body.

Changbin scoops you back up when he’s satisfied with his work, very carefully laying you down a close (yet safe) distance to the fire, nestling beside you after and laying an additional blanket over your bodies. He has so many questions, his mind is racing, but they can wait- making sure you’re not going to suffer frostbite is of much more importance. He lets you use him for warmth, not complaining a bit when your cold limbs tangle with his, letting you sap his warmth and take it for your own.

He brings his hands to your face, warming your cold cheeks in his palms, looking you over carefully. You looked unhurt, thankfully- he has no idea what you’ve gone through, but he’s glad you’re here now, and looking well, all things considered. “Do you want to tell me what’s happened?” he asks softly, pushing the fallen hair away from your eyes, letting him meet your gaze without obstruction. You swallow down your bubbling emotion, wanting to be clear and concise, to leave no room for confusion or error.

“My mother is very strict, as you know.. She enforced her rules more harshly after she discovered how I’d been spending my time. I had to sneak out again just to be here,” you answer, and his brows furrow. “Again..? Have you been sneaking out to see me all this time?” he asks, and you nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Changbin knew your mother had strict rules, he knew she didn’t approve of her daughter meeting with those of lower class, but that wasn’t the extent of it?

This whole time, he thought your lie to your mother was simply that you exited town- not that you left home entirely. He was under the impression that you were still allowed out on the streets, at the very least; not that you were caged up inside all day like some sort of bird. But this.. This was outrageous, cruel. To not let your daughter out of the house at all? That’s what you’d been dealing with this entire time?

Relationships with parents are complex, but he almost can’t even believe you still love her after all this, that you still want to uphold whatever ambitions it is that she has for you; if it were him, he doesn’t think he could stand it. He followed in his parents footsteps because he wanted to, not because he was forced to. And he doesn’t imagine you’d be much different from him in that regard; naive though you may be at times, you had a strong sense of responsibility, and were intelligent in matters he was clueless on, a completely different kind of intellect from his own.

“You can stay with me,” he wants to say, “I’ll never make you do a single thing you don’t want to do, you’ll always be respected and happy.” But he knows you’d refuse, your sense of pride in yourself and responsibility simply too strong to abandon just because of one obstacle, harsh though that obstacle may be. In equal measure, you don’t think you could ever ask him to stay with you. How much would he have to give up to be with you?

You don’t want to ask that of him- to make him give up his home and all he holds dear just to be stuck in the castle with you. He doesn’t even know you’re the princess in the first place. And though you love him, it’s painfully apparent that you’re in two separate worlds that may not be destined to converge though you wish them to. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you say, hot tears finally starting to fall as you the emotion unleashes itself from the depths of where you’d pushed them down, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

God, Changbin feels like his heart is shattering. It’s so painful to see you reduced to this, you who is always so bright and vibrant in her joy, brought low to tears and heartache. Why must you endure this? Does your mother truly not understand how much pain she causes you but not allowing you to simply live? “Don’t think like that. If you say it’s the end, then it will be,” he whispers, the pain in his own voice evident despite how he tries to hide it behind a mask of strength for your sake.

The tears flow from your eyes and you let him rub them away with his thumb, letting him fill your head with impossible, sweet promises. Your whole life was clouded in dreadful, dreary rain, and there’s nowhere you wanted to be more after the rain than with Changbin. What a ray of sunshine he was, even without intending to be- the light that illuminated your otherwise dark existence. And how painful it was to know that come morning, it would all become nothing but a memory from your youth.

You lean forward to kiss him, tears continuing to leak from the corners despite having your eyes closed now. You want to tell him “I love you” but you fear that saying so will only make the act of parting that much harder and painful. You fear that no matter how much time passes, the name of your first love will forever be written in your heart, that you will never stop loving him even should you lead lives separate from one another. And still, you have no regrets, because for a time you felt truest joy and love, and what a gift it was to share with him.

Taking his hands from your face, he pulls you closer, your entangled limbs being woven together more complexly, your torsos now completely flushed to one another, his arms wrapped around and holding you tight, as if lessening his hold on you would cause you to dissipate. And perhaps you will disappear, but not now- not while he has you like this, not when you are where you long to be most. Your tears slow, eventually receding completely as your lips touch.

If this is truly your last moment together, you have decided you will not spend it wallowing in sorrow- you will enjoy all you can, you will memorize every detail, you will etch it in your very soul. “Are you warm enough?” Changbin asks after he separates from you, but still close enough that his breath lingers on your lips. “Could be warmer,” you answer and he chuckles softly, kissing you again, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body, to your hips.

“Want me to add more to the fire?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice as he knows that’s not what you’re insinuating. While you normally speak quite openly and honestly, you become.. meek within intimate moments. Changbin always finds it incredibly cute, how you dance around what you mean, waiting for him to get the hint and give you what you want. He always gets the hint, but it’s fun to see your blush grow hotter, to see you stumble with your words when he plays dumb about what you mean, or purposely misunderstands just to make you state what you want clearly.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt, but..” you trail off, chewing on your lip nervously as you meet his eyes again. He raises his brow but says nothing, smiling patiently as he waits for you to speak your mind. What a menace, you think, he always does this when he realizes you want to be intimate with him. However, he doesn’t intend to waste too much time making you flustered and teasing; it’s just.. if this is the last time like you seem to believe, then he wanted to see it again now, before the opportunity was lost to him.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know. I want you to touch me,” you finally answer and he coos, furthering the embarrassment you feel as heat rushes to your face. But better than being cold like you were earlier, you suppose; maybe you should welcome his teasing, since it never fails to make your face and body hot. “You missed me, darlin’? I missed you too,” he smiles, kissing your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, “thought about you every damn day.”

His low voice near your ear makes you shudder, his soft kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, furthering the feeling. You never let him mark your skin, afraid of what consequences would come from your mother finding out what you’d been doing, but you’re tempted to let him tonight- if you’re going to be punished regardless, why not be selfish, go out with a display? “Binnie, leave a mark on me, please,” you shamelessly plead, using the nickname you know he loves to hear you speak.

Changbin lifts his head from your shoulder, meeting your gaze with uncertain excitement. God, he’d love to, but.. “Are you certain? What of your mother?” he asks carefully, pushing your hair behind your neck to expose more of your skin. He may be apprehensive out of concern, but the minute you make it clear you have no reservations, he’s obliging without restraint, giving you everything you ask- anything you want, you’ll have it.

“I don’t care what she thinks anymore, I want her to know that I.. have someone I love,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles, his heart feeling like it’s expanding in size. “You love me?” he asks, and you return his smile as you nod, because though you were scared to tell him, you are glad you did. His reaction to the information was completely worth it, his eyes sparkling with deep emotion and fondness for you.

“I love you too. More than you probably know,” he says, mirroring what he said when he confessed that he liked you too, and he lets you pull him into a kiss, your affection radiating. There’s a soft giggle that escapes him, not being able to help how giddy your love makes him feel, how you love him despite what people in your life expect from you. If he could, he’d assure them all how well he’d take care of you, how he’d make sure you never suffered a day in your life because of him. He suspects your mother doesn’t care much about your happiness, but if she did, if she gave him the chance to prove it, he wouldn’t rest until he gave you the entire world, until she could see your love as true.

You lay your head back to the pillows, tilting it comfortably so that Changbin has more access to your skin. His breath warms you, and you all but tremble with anticipation when you feel his lips on you again, knowing your skin will finally bear his mark after all this time. You’ve seen such a mark briefly on your maids that you know to have lovers, how they try to hide them with their hair or makeup, the sort of shame and embarrassment they feel when they realize you’ve noticed it.

You will have no such shame; you will wear them proudly, in a show that is simultaneously of love and rebellion. I have and I know love, and that is all that matters. People will certainly have opinions, but you’ve sacrificed enough to them. If there is only one day you can live selfishly, you want it to be this day; and even as the marks fade, they will serve as a reminder of what you once had.

He plants open mouthed kisses to your neck, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing you adding to the anticipation you feel. Your fingers tangle in his dark, unruly curls, as he carefully, almost gently, sucks and bites at your supple skin, leaving behind a string of beautiful, red, blue, and purple bruises. There’s a tinge of pain, yes, but the excitement grows beyond the subtle sting, transforming it almost entirely into pleasure.

When Changbin’s finished with one side, he lies you on your back and does the same to the other, your eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head for him to have more room to work. You unintentionally tug on his hair when his teeth meet a particularly sensitive spot, and you would’ve apologized had he not groaned in delight from the feeling. You learned something new about him every time you were intimate, and this discovery in particular had your stomach flipping.

“Want you to take it off,” he mumbles in reference to your dress, pulling at the fabric that had begun to bunch up at your thighs. You hum, detangling your hand from his hair and letting him sit up, watching as he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. In all the times you’ve seen Changbin’s skin bare, you never stopped being amazed at how divine he looked. He was so big and strong, it always left you breathless, his cute, soft stomach a direct contrast from the bulk in his arms and chest. And then there was the small patch of hair that led from his belly button to the waistband of his trousers that always left you hungry to see the rest of him.

Still feeling a bit weak from your exertion prior, you ask Changbin to help you remove your dress, which he is more than happy to do. He’s careful with the fabric, though you’ve decided you don’t care about it at this particular moment, and he sets it aside with much more care than he did his own clothing. What a gentleman he is, you think, taking the extra time to care for your clothes even when he’s met with you bare before him.

Well, not entirely bare- you still have your undergarments on, and after deciding you’d see Changbin today no matter what, you purposely wore your prettiest pair. A beautiful, intricate and delicate white lace, one you might aspire to wear on your wedding night. He looks you over in awe, taking in all your details. You were always beautiful, but your choice in clothing somehow enhances it, drives his excitement even further.

“Fuck, you’re stunning. How did I get so lucky?” Changbin questions aloud and you smile, a soft giggle escaping you as he leans back down to kiss you. “Take your pants off too, otherwise it isn’t fair,” you playfully complain and he grins, letting out a chuckle of his own as lifts himself back up. “Maybe I spoil you too much, giving you everything you want so easily,” he responds to your complaint with one of his own, trying not to smile so that he appears serious- though you are easily able to read that he’s playing around, just as you were.

“You give me everything I want because I’m a good girl for you though, right?” you ask and he groans audibly; you admitted early on in your sexual relationship that you were curious about being called such things, and when he tried it out, it was discovered that he liked saying it just as much as you liked being called it. It’s not just saying it to you that he likes either- hearing you call yourself one, saying it’s just for him.. that’s what really gets him going.

He doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say you belong to him, especially not after all you’ve suffered through, but he definitely belongs to you. You don’t anticipate Changbin pulling his underwear down with his trousers, but the sight of his cock is never unwelcome. It’s already hard and leaking, and when he leans down to you once again, you can feel it pressing against your bare thigh, smearing its fluid on your skin. It always excites you, how hard he gets from your body, and while you are normally much more timid, you’re enjoying getting him riled up quickly.

“You’re dangerous,” he says with a small huff, and before you can come back with more words to make his cock throb, he’s kissing you again, this time wasting no time with softness and shoving his tongue past your lips. You welcome it, opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue tangle with yours. The feeling always makes you light-headed in the most delicious way possible- it’s intoxicating to put it simply, and you would kiss him for hours and hours if given the chance.

His hands come to your bra, unhooking it easily after all the practice he’s had, and though he could easily toss it aside, he breaks away long enough to set it down gently. You giggle at how he’s still treating your clothes with care even while this hard and eager, but that’s what makes you love him so much. Returning to your mouth, he nips and sucks at your bottom lip, and you mewl at the sting, which Changbin always gladly soothes with his tongue before repeating.

His fingers roll, pinch, and tug your nipples, not too hard, but enough to have you whining and squeezing your legs together. They were always so sensitive in Changbin’s rough, calloused hands, and there were times you felt you could cum simply from the stimulation of them alone, especially when he used his mouth. And he did just that when he pulled away to stop kissing you, though not right away.

He kissed all over your chest, leaving love bites and sucking small, almost delicate bruises onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, not yet touching your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You told him to mark you, and it seems he was determined to do it everywhere- not that you had any objections. It was a bit strange, seeing your chest bitten and the color of your flesh changed, but you equally enjoyed it, loved the physical proof that Changbin was on you.

When his tongue finally swirled around one of your nipples, you let out a breathy moan that quickly turned into a drawn out whimper when he used his teeth to carefully tug. He made sure not to hurt you too overtly, to just give you enough of that sweet sting you found so enticing and pleasurable, and in return you gave him that same delicious feeling by tugging on his hair every time you felt good.

Your panties were soaked by the time he stopped giving your breasts attention, and though you hadn’t reached your peak from the stimulation, you felt so close. Resuming his path down your body, Changbin’s cock throbs and twitches when he’s met with evidence of your excitement, your white panties darkened by how damp they’ve become. He doesn’t pull them down right away- he kisses your legs first, and then your thighs, leaving behind the same kisses and marks he gave to your chest and neck.

Your inner thighs are especially sensitive, and it causes you to jolt and whine when he sinks his teeth into the meat of them. He’s got you so impossibly worked up, you feel like you could cry when he finally gives your neglected heat the attention it craves. He praises you before he slides your panties down your legs, and there’s a relieved sort of noise coming from your throat that makes Changbin chuckle.

You keen when his tongue finally slips between your folds, licking and sucking up everything you have to offer him. There’s an enthusiastic hum that leaves his lips when your fingers tangle in his hair again, followed by a groan when you pull and tug. Your legs are trembling and twitching so much, constantly threatening to lose around his head, that he has to push them down to keep you how he wants you.

It’s when his tongue meets your clit that you really start to lose yourself, your hips jolting up and back arching, legs quivering when he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You’re panting, begging him, incoherently mumbling and babbling about how close you are, and within seconds you’re seeing white, eyes rolling back as further wetness gushes on his face. He licks your release up with another eager hum, dragging out the feeling until you’re a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him.

You release your hold on his curls when you finally come down from your high and your body relaxes, opening your eyes to see Changbin grinning at you, evidently proud of the fact that he got you to cum in record time. He kisses you softly, quick and chaste, not trying to hinder you from taking any of the breaths you need, just wanting to show his affection. “What do you want next, darlin’? Since I’m givin’ you everything you want,” he asks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he awaits your answer.

“W-Want to be on top but.. I’m still feeling pretty weak. Especially after that,” you reply with a slight blush, and he chuckles again, cooing at you as if you’re just so sweet and cute (and to be fair, you are. At least to him.) “S’okay sweetheart, I can help you,” Changbin says sweetly, giving you one more kiss before he’s lying down on the makeshift bed and pulling you on top of him. Your legs are on either side of them, his hands on your hips, looking up at you with pure affection.

“This good? Comfortable?” he asks, and you hum with a nod, smiling just a bit as you lean down to kiss him again. Normally, given how thick he is, Changbin would prep you before having you take his cock, but given how wet and excited you are, he doesn’t think the prep is as necessary (and you might not be patient enough for it after all the build up to this point regardless.) He helps you line yourself up with his cock, both of you letting out your own shaky noises as you sink down on him.

“Atta girl, keep goin’, just like that, sit on me all the way,” he encourages you, and you do just as he asks, your hands tightly gripping his biceps to ground and support yourself as you sit flush with his body, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his. He rubs your thighs and legs, trying to show soothing affection as you adjust and settle, listening attentively to all the trembling exhales and noises you make.

You look so beautiful atop him, illuminated in the gentle, warm glow of the fireplace, your hair having fallen in a way that messily, yet somehow perfectly, frames your face. He can see everything- your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, beautifully painted with all the marks he left behind. You can feel him twitching and throbbing inside you, but he doesn’t rush you along, lets you take all the time you need.

You feel him twitch again when you lean down to kiss him, and it’d make you giggle if it also didn’t make a wave of pleasure shoot through your body. You move your hands to his chest to support your own weight better, experimentally rolling your hips as you coax your tongue into his mouth. He lets out a groan from deep in his chest as you move, his tongue wasting no time in meeting and dancing with yours, his fingers squeezing at the already tender meat of your thighs.

You lift yourself back up to begin moving in earnest, your hands still planted firmly on his chest for support as you slide yourself up and down his length. The slow pace, while it still feels good, isn’t enough for either of you, and soon enough you find yourself practically bouncing on his cock, the sound of your thighs repeatedly slapping down on his echoing into the room. Changbin curses, biting his lip as he watches you, using his hands to help guide you up and down, trying to ease some of the ache in your legs.

He thrusts upward into you when your pace starts to stutter and lose rhythm, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he hits the perfect spot again and again. It reaches a point where his hands simply hold you in the right place while he exerts all his effort, feet planted firmly on the ground while he does all the work from below. Your nails dig into his skin, head falling back as you feel your release building up again.

Changbin effortlessly flips your positions, though he is careful not to hurt you in his haste- he just wants to make you fall apart again, and it’s easier to do that if he doesn’t have to control your movements- just his own. He resumes the pace he held from below, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick circles, unable to help the way he groans when he feels you clench around him even tighter in response.

“B-Bin, please, Binnie, so close,” you babble and whine, your hands twisting the blankets beneath you. “I know sweetheart, let go, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grunts out, and again, you feel white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your vision blurring and mind growing fuzzy as you let go. “Good girl, just a little more, just need you to hang on for a little more,” he both instructs and praises, pulling out just long enough to flip you to your stomach, pushing back into your heat just as quickly as he left it.

You whimper loudly, fingers clutching desperately at the pillow your head rests on, Changbin bringing a hand around your body to lift your hips ever so slightly. He was hitting your spot deliciously from this angle, the pleasure so great that tears once again pricked the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall with each gasp and whimper you released. You turn your head back as much as you can, delighted in the visage of Changbin’s head thrown back in pleasure,

He always got rougher when he started to get close, his hands always tightening their grip, his thrusts, while growing less rhythmic, became harsher and faster, almost desperate, and it was always a treat to experience. You loved watching him lose himself to the pleasure, loved that it was you and your body that brought him there, loved how his grunts and groans transformed into higher pitched whimpers and whines.

You bring your own fingers to your clit, wanting to let him enjoy and focus on his release since he already spent so much time on your pleasure. He leans forward, his chest pressed into your back, his hot breath hitting your ear, his whines and praises pouring directly into it. “Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good, ‘m gonna- fuck, gonna fill you up,” he stammers out, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your stomach erupting in countless butterflies, driving you to speed up the motion of your fingers.

You release again with a strangled cry, gushing around his length and on your fingers. Changbin follows closely behind, the feeling of you clenching and squeezing around him as you cum for the third time sending him over his peak. He releases in long, drawn out spurts, both of you breathless and exhausted when he collapses next to you. You both know you should get cleaned up, but you’re both too tired to care, and he can always clean up his messes in the morning. For now, he just wants to stay close, here in front of the fire, with you.

This very well could be your last night together, but he doesn’t want to believe it is. He wants to believe that the two of you can find a solution somehow, that after all the hardship, you’ll be smiling at him in the end. There’s a part of you that doesn’t even want to fall asleep at all- you want to stay up all night, to not waste a single moment you have left, to stare and feel and love until the very last second, so that he’ll remember him clearly always.

You do your best to not become teary eyed again, having promised yourself you wouldn’t spend your night with him wrapped up in your sorrow and dread. But oh, how you wish there was more time, how you wish that your mother would understand you, that you could have just this one thing. But you suppose for a girl with immense responsibility, happiness is too much to ask for. You sacrifice your happiness so that others may have it instead- as noble an act as any, but you selfishly wish you could have both; the people’s happiness and your own.

The idea of running away still leaves you torn, even after all this time. You don’t want to let anyone down.. but still, you have to ask yourself, is doing what’s right for your family and future worth all this heartache? If it’s what is right, why does it make your heart feel as if it’s been shattered like glass? You’ve been told in life that the right thing to do is never the easiest, but you can’t imagine that in this case, walking away from either side is right.

You want both. Is that truly so wrong? You want to be a ruler worthy of her name and title, and you want Changbin. Why must you choose one over the other? As far as you’re aware, even now, Changbin doesn’t know you’re the princess. He’ll likely find out soon, when every knight in the town is floundering to find you come morning, when they realize you’re gone. You should slip away before then, lest your lover be met with undue scrutiny and unfair treatment from your mother and other nobles.

But looking at him now, even still.. you don’t want to leave. You’ll never want to leave. “Sweetheart,” Changbin calls softly, his hand reaching up to leave comforting, lingering touches to your head. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’. But don’t be sad yet, not ‘til we’ve said goodbye.” You blink away the accumulating tears with a nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat the best you can and burying your face into Changbin’s welcoming body.

You’re so, so tired, and you know he is too, but he’s trying his best for you. And he’s being the strong one despite how much his heart aches with yours. He rubs your head, kisses your temple, tells you he loves you. Your heart breaks and mends all at once; how bittersweet this moment is.. If you’re lucky, you have about 7 hours until anyone realizes you’re gone. Maybe you can sleep for just a few, just enough to get some of this ache out of your body, and then you can spend the rest with Changbin.

You’ll cry, you know, as soon as you depart back home. You’ll cry when the hole in the castle’s defenses is completely sealed. You’ll cry when you look to the fields his home sits on from the bedroom window. Still.. you do your best to uphold your promise to yourself, and now to Changbin. You won’t cry, and you won’t be upset- not yet, anyways. Not until you’ve actually parted ways. For now, you’ll continue to lie in his arms, continue to express your love for him, continue to smile and laugh as if this isn’t the end, until morning comes and reminds you painfully that it is.

How beautiful it was to love Seo Changbin, to learn and to grow and to really live with his help, patience, and care. How fondly you’ll miss him in every moment, how lovingly you’ll always hold his memory. Brief though your love together is, much shorter than it should have been, it has changed you for the better, and you’ll never regret it, even should your heart ache. And maybe Changbin is right; maybe there is room for hope, and maybe you’ll see each other again much sooner than you allow yourself to think. No matter what lies before you, there is one thing for certain; Changbin is your first love, and he’ll forever be etched in your heart- your lover, your deepest connection, your closest confidant. And how grateful you are to have known him.

#skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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seneon · 3 months

Text

月光 ݁ ˖ MOONLIGHT ── CHAPTER TWO. BROKEN BLADES THAT CANNOT CUT THROUGH MOUNTAIN MIST AND FOGS.

CONTENTS. swordplay, a little bit of insulting and teasing, and sparring under the moonlight. wc of nine hundred.

moonlight series masterlist ₊ 𓂃 previous ₊ 𓂃 next

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆, two swings, three swings. later on a hundreds of other swings that mean nothing if the blade you held is broken. the blade that you used to fought in the war, cutting down the souls of hundreds of innocent soldiers that were probably promised to get riches and wanders if they came back alive and conquering.

however, those promises do not matter now, for they are as broken as the tip and edges of your sword which was given to you by one of the lieutenants before you succeeded and became the next division lieutenant.

all the hardwork and effort into putting the sword to good use has crumbled somewhere along the war. the lieutenant would be sad, or disappointed, perhaps even angry— if he ever finds out what the sword he has given his successor has done to hundreds of innocent souls.

you continued swinging, even if the broken blade is stained by the only memories left by the soldiers of the battlefield. sweat raced down your forehead to your neck. your breath is heavy, arms already so sore from swinging it the same amount of times where you backed out during the war in terms of cutting through and also the same amount where you did cut through.

the honey-like void eyes watched as you kept swinging your sword, aware at the fact that your blade might crumble at any moment, at any more swing that could just stop you from swinging and swinging so much. rayne is intrigued by how you could swing for such a long time despite your wounds still being sore and in the process of healing from rayne's herbs and medicines.

"any more swings and your sword won't even cut through the mist of this mountain, let alone allow the fog to run through your blades," the mountain god commented, walking out with his arms held out. "i want to test your skills. spar with me, y/n."

sometimes you forget that he is a divine being, and that he has magical powers. he controls and rules over a whole mountain, hence the elemental ability to control wind, fire, earth, wood, water. but before he harboured the five elements of nature, rayne is also a swordsman whom is good with the sharpest swords ever forged.

rayne summoned a sword out from thin air, handing it to you before taking out a similar sword for the spar. "hand me your deceased sword. i will fix it and bring it back to life for you." you did as he told and took a few swings at your new temporary sword. "i didn't know you have magical abilities to summon swords. is there somewhere you keep weapons?"

"it is my ability. i am not only a mountain god, but also the god of blades. every single sword in existence are my creation."

you definitely had no idea he held such a huge responsibility as both mountain god and the inventor of swords. imagine how busy he must've been with two huge responsibilities. just how could an individual do both at once? rayne must be incredibly talented and hardworking to achieve the highest for both titles.

"let's spar, shall we?"

"yeah alright."

the both of you clashed your swords against each other for a few good minutes, steel hitting against each other and echoing throughout the night. although your arms hurt a lot, exchanging blows with rayne gave you serotonin to keep continuing. the sudden electricity that run from your blade up to your hilt then to your fingers and finally the electricity spreads throughout your entire body made you feel fired up.

right here in this mountain, you are sparring with a god who knows everything about swordsmanship. from the designs on the hilt to the hardest technique to inflict a conflict. rayne ames knows everything.

you didn't see him as a mere god that looks after a mountain. you saw him as a person who has more than what it takes to be trapped in a mountain where he has nobody but the elements of nature to keep him company. and now, you are here, serving as a new elemental nature that he has to look after.

everything of this mountain belongs to me, you remembered rayne saying and you yourself, with nothing left, no family or friends, not even a history or a story to tell the world. you gave yourself up to rayne, agreeing to be his so he could give you a safe space and you would serve him for life. even if you are to die and reincarnate, you would still serve the mountain god.

for the first time in a few centuries, rayne ames found it pleasing in those few minutes to spar against a human after such a long time of secluded solitary. he could feel something sparking in him everytime single time he hears the blades singing against each clash. there was a flash of determination in your eyes everytime he gazes into them too.

what could those flashes in your eyes mean?

rayne ames grew a little more curious every single time he exchanges blows with a warrior who has seen hell in person. his solitary was also plucked away very slowly but your filling presence in this mountain. rayne does not feel lonely anymore.

TAGS ݁ ˖ @kyoghurts @anqelically @caelivir @bbladie @ansbobcar @rjasmines @lunareclipses-moments

#❨ MOONLIGHT ❩ ݁ ˖ ˚ ☽#⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟#rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #rayne x reader #rayne x y/n #rayne x you #mashle #mashle x reader #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle imagines #mashle rayne #mashle fluff

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rraaaannnn · 8 months

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Gaming competitor

In 2000s

You walk with your school bag while the lollipop is in your mouth, trying to speed up your steps to get to your favorite place

''Good luck Y/N!''

One of the school students following you is cheering you on because today is your important match in playing games

You wave your hand in response to his cheers as you continue on your way with quick steps, stress eating away at your stomach

While you hear the cheers of your school students as they encourage you and bet on your victory

You were the head of the arcade, but in the last five months, a video game player from another neighborhood started threatening your famous name in the entire neighborhood

Hanni pham

Recently, you were visiting the arcade store, and then one day you entered your usual store to see all your friends and visitors gathered around your favorite video game

After you ordered them to move away to see what was happening, you saw the beautiful girl playing professionally

''Y/N look, this girl named Hanni almost broke your record!''

Even the arcade cashier left his job to watch the girl

From that moment on, a strong competition began between you and Hanni

Everyone in school was waiting for the school bell to end and they rushed to the arcade place and saw you playing against each other

It was rare for one of you to win over the other, most of your games were drawn

But today is one of the most important days

Today is one of the most important days. Today is the final match to win the award and win the title of best fighting player. The competition started a month ago and of course the two remaining are you and Hanni

prize was a figure of your favorite character from the Street Fighters game

Chun-li

You've worked hard for this moment and here you are sitting in your gaming chair while snapping your fingers

You look next to you to see Hanni talking with one of the students while sitting on the gaming chair and waiting for the cashier to announce the start of the game

After you chose the characters you will fight with, everyone started counting down to the start of the game

Hanni starts attacking you with her character Ryu while you defend with your character Ken

All the people in the place start cheering, most of them flirting and mesmerizing Hanni with her beauty

While you were cursing loudly every time Hanni hit you hard

The sound of your fingers hitting the buttons increases as you think about every time you told your parents to buy you your favorite figure, but it ended in a heated conversation and you being kicked out of the house

You weren't a bad girl, but you were when it came to your games, so your parents always kicked you out for being too loud

''It's easy to make you lose''

Hani started with her side comments that you always found annoying, you know, from her arrogance and her confidence in her game

''Just shut up and play''

After you finished speaking, you stuck out your tongue. It was your habit to focus more, which Hanni definitely noticed every time you played

You see that things are getting worse. You are being hit hard. You cannot control Ken. You try to move back a little, but Hanni continues to hit you and Ryu is getting stronger

Everyone starts screaming that you are about to lose, which makes you lose your mind, so you get up from your chair to concentrate more

While Hanni seems calm and enjoying the game

''Oh no no damn it!''

You curse everything that Ryu hit Ken so hard

It looks like the final blow is about to come

Hanni presses the buttons faster and everyone screams for the knockout

Ken falls to the ground

‘’FACK!''

The last curse leaves your mouth with even greater anger

All of Hanni's fans are screaming with joy as they pick Hanni up and throw her in the air and you can see her big laugh

Well I guess you'll go back to asking your parents anyway

After your friends were consoled and you saw them handing the figure to Hanni, while Hanni held it up and started smiling and laughing with her friends

For placing second, your reward was not paying to play in the arcade for three weeks

A tall person approached you and when you recognized him, you smiled lightly as you watched him speak

Johnny was one of your rivals, but he was also nice to you. You thought he was coming to make fun of you, but he pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and gave it to you

''It's okay, you played well too''

“Thank you, John. I have to raise my academic level because my parents told me that if I don’t bring my stupid toy home with me and don’t raise my grades, they will deprive me of my money”

''This is bad! Just let me know if you need a lollipop to lick during your punishment''

''Ew! You're making me think dirty.''

You laughed lightly at Johnny's reaction until she felt someone else's eyes on you and noticed Hani looking at you with strange looks, but she returned to a conversation with one of her friends

You come out the back door from the arcade while opening the lollipop and putting the bag in the garbage, but before you put it in your mouth, you look at the door to see Hanni coming out of the door, wearing her jacket full of stars. She takes the lollipop from your hand and puts it in her mouth

''what are you doing now?''

You're not angry now, but you're wondering, remembering that Hanni is sure to make fun of you

"Nothing, I'm just tasting your defeat"

''You're really annoying''

You say while looking at the lollipop resting on her right cheek, making it slightly swollen

''Do you know what's annoying? The taste of this lollipop. Tell the tall boy to bring something better next time''

You grab the popsicle stick from her mouth, take it out of her mouth, put it in your mouth, and then say

''Mmm, it's lemon, but it's sweet now. Is it because of your mouth?''

Even if you're upset, it doesn't mean you won't tease her a little

You can see a slight redness in Hanni's cheeks, then she You can see a slight redness in Hanni's cheeks, then she looks at your face softly and says at your face softly and says

''stop doing that''

You ask again

''Stop doing what?''

''Saying things that make me want to kiss the fuck out of you''

You won't deny that you like her, so whisper close to her lips

''Stop winning the figures, win me instead.''

You takes one last look at her lip, then turns back and leaves the place

Leaving Hanni behind while she is already thinking of a way to win you over

Well, you won't be going to the arcade for a few days, so this is fun for you. You want to make her think of you in the coming days, and it looks like you succeeded in that

2???

#newjeans x reader #hanni imagines #hanni x reader #newjeans reactions #hanni pham x reader #newjeans imagines #new jeans super shy

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queer-n-here · 3 months

Note

Ooh I actually really like it! I would greatly appreciate it if you could write Sub!Poe (I think he's a virgin-) where Reader is sucking his cock while he tries to focused on writing a novel?

(Sorry if it's short, I'm trying to find inspiration for it 😔)

- 💕 anon

Hi brotha! And I agree. Poe is definitely a virgin. You cannot tell me otherwise.

Also I hope this isn't too short...

Contents: Poe was too focused on his novel while reader was bored, so reader decided to suck him off, only to find out that he's a virgin.

Warnings: Smut, dom male reader, blowjob, loss of virginity, slightly dubcon, dacryphilia (not much), masturbation (mentioned).

Fem aligned and MDNI.

You were bored. So bored.

Your boyfriend, Poe, was working tirelessly on his novel, and here you were sitting on a chair not far away from his, aimlessly scrolling through your phone to find something that'd catch your attention.

It wasn't working.

You sighed, putting your phone down on the table before you, and looked up at Poe.

"Baby," You called, and the only thing you received as a response was a hum. "Edgar!"

Poe twitched slightly, not looking up from his novel as the endless scratching of his pen continued. "What?"

You raised an eyebrow, slightly irked by his tone.

Getting up from your chair, you walked over to Poe's, a devilish idea forming in your evil brain. As you approached, Poe looked up, and seeing your smirk, he couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

"W-what?" He said, watching as you stepped closer and then crouched down in front of his chair, you hands reaching for the waistband of his pants. "What- what are you d-doing?!"

Poe tried to push your hands away, but you held his wrists firm.

"What now?" You said innocently. "You were so focused on the novel just a second ago. Go on, don't let me ruin your concentration."

And you attempted to unzip his pants again, only for Poe to yelp and try to pull away.

"Tsk," You clicked your tongue, looking up at him with false impatience. "Are you gonna abandon your writing for nothing?"

"I..." Poe hesitated, then swallowed, the tips of his ears turning pink. "...What are you gonna do?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," You succeeded in unzipping, but he just wouldn't let you pull his pants down, gripping onto the waistband with both his hands. "Come on, Ed. I'll make you feel good, hmm?"

Poe bit his lip, looking away, his fingers still wrapped clenching the fabric.

"There's something... you should probably know before you... y'know?" He said, his cheeks flushed.

You titled your head, thoroughly enjoying the view of his gorgeous flustered face. "And what's that?"

"I..." Poe paused, closing his eyes before opening them again in that way he did when he wasn't sure whether he was doing something correctly. "I haven't... done it before. I'm a virgin."

Your eyes widened slightly. "Not even with a woman?"

Poe shook his head.

You couldn't help but grow slightly softer. After all, it was his first time receiving a blowjob, no wonder his usually pale skin looked like someone had splashed red paint on it.

You leaned up, planting a peck on Poe's lips, making him look at you.

"Don't worry, Ed," You said gently. "Like I said, I'll make you feel good, okay?"

And this time he nodded, his fingers finally loosening around his waistband and letting you pull his pants down to his hips. You did the same to his boxers, till Poe's semi-hard dick was exposed to the cold air in his dungeon-like office, making him shiver slightly, watching you with nervous eyes.

"Don't mind me," You said. "Go back to the novel."

"Oh, but is that- Nngh!" Poe tensed immediately, clutching the armrests of his chair with both his hands the moment your lips touched his dick. "Wait- Hah!"

You kissed and licked at his tip, watching as Poe struggled to keep talking, raising a hand to hide his face, his shoulders scrunched up.

"Edgar?" You pulled back slightly, smirking. "Are you gonna make me repeat myself?"

"Wha..." He was already panting. "What?"

"I told you to go back to your writing." You said. "If you stop writing, I'm gonna stop sucking."

Poe flushed impossibly darker, his eyes looking at you accusingly. He knew better than to argue, though. Even if you two hadn't gotten intimate before now, he knew you were a man of your word.

Taking up his pen again, Poe tried to stabilize himself, to return to his earlier composure and continue writing. But the moment the nib touched the paper, you engulfed his entire cock into your mouth, and the warmth wrapping around him like that was so intense that he gasped and moaned.

You let it slip out of your mouth till your lips were wrapped around just his tip, before slamming down on it again, making his dick just brush against the back of your throat.

Poe writhed under you, scrambling to find purchase to ground himself, huffing and panting as your head bobbed up and down, eyes glued to his flushed face as your own pants grew uncomfortably tight.

"Ed," You murmured, lips abandoning his cock so suddenly it made him whine. "Have you stopped writing?"

"N-no!" The poor man picked up his pen again, tearing his gaze away from yours to look at the page before him. "I'm writing, I'm writing."

Smirking, you lowered your mouth onto his dick again, watching as his shoulders twitched and he bit his lips, trying not to make any of the lewd noises that you had been enjoying before. As you sucked him off, tears developed in Poe's eyes from his dilemma, falling onto your head as he tried to keep his hand steady.

His handwriting had deteriorated so much that his words were barely legible, loud mewls slipping out of his bitten red and swollen lips.

You were relentless in your onslaught, and it felt oh-so-amazing that you had Poe seeing stars, his poor brain barely able to process anything but the feeling of your skillful mouth around him, steadily taking him to heaven.

He shuddered and gasped with each movement of your tongue, gripping the pen in his hand and digging it into the page, almost tearing the coarse parchment as his shoulders trembled. His legs twitched around you, toes curling inside his shoes as he tried to keep writing, not wanting you to stop even for a moment.

And as you gagged around him, eyes blurring, Poe screamed, crying out and blabbering with no sense, words that didn't belong together.

Just how did you expect him to focus on fictional characters when your very real mouth was making him feel so ethereal?

It wasn't long before Poe was trying to speak again, and even though all the noises he could make were whines and cries, you took his meaning to be that he was close. His hands abandoned the thought of writing, trying to push you away by the shoulder, whimpering and panting as more tears slid down his face.

But you held on firm, knowing full well the reason why Poe was trying to free himself. Soon, warmth filled your mouth, and you let it, swallowing down the white liquid as Poe collapsed back into his chair, all struggle forgotten as his chest heaved with each breath.

You pulled away finally, wiping your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend, and couldn't help but smile at him. The not yet dried tears on his flushed skin, what with that expression of shame on his face as he tried to avoid your gaze was enough to make your already throbbing cock pulse.

But you disregarded it, leaning up to kiss Poe's tears away instead, murmuring soft words to him that made him grip your shirt with both hands.

You left him to rest, covering him with your coat before leaving for the bathroom to deal with your own problem.

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

» Part 2 [ PAIRING ] Dio Brando x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] The title is a Hamlet reference. I doubt any of this is historically accurate and I quite frankly do not give a fuck. Not beta read; we post like men. Oh and like don’t binge drink, it’s bad for you [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your toxic bestie, Dio Brando, get drunk and horny at your family’s country house after graduating from your respective colleges. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.8k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, alcohol, y/n wears men’s clothing (yes, you hate all that fancy, upper-class finery. yes, you’re not like other girls.), voyeurism, dubcon, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), snowballing, teasing.

You were draped on the couch, taking up as much space as possible. Your head rested uncomfortably on the ornate armrest. The intricate, oak carvings couldn’t have been more unforgiving as they pressed against you. You found yourself resenting your parents’ taste in gaudy furniture, an aspect of them you never had a strong opinion about before this very moment.

Granted it wasn’t often you found yourself existing under these circumstances. How could your perception remain the same? There you were, drunk on whiskey in your father’s library while he entertained guests on the other side of your modest country house. Your contentious yet closest friend was seated on the other end of the couch, his large hands haphazardly resting on your bare feet. His head was tossed back, eyes shut. A slight scowl adorned his face. You suspected he was fighting off the spins.

“Are you alright?” You asked, nudging him with your foot.

No response. Not even a groan.

“Dio.”

“No.”

“What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing,” he yawned. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Come on.” You nudged him once more with your foot. “Entertain me. It’s the absolute least you could do.”

Silence. You sighed, saddened he refused to humor you. You gazed down at the floor and felt around for the bottle of whiskey the two of you had been nursing all night. The room was dimly lit, the chandelier above you barely casting off any light.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you knocked over the bottle.

It made a muffled thump as it collided with the plush carpet. You sighed again though this time it was tinged with relief. Sitting up, you opened the bottle and took a sip. The sound of your swallowing seemed to rouse the blonde. His eyes fluttered open and turned his gaze towards you.

“How pathetic,” he slurred. “Hand it over.”

A callous response but it still radiated warmth. It was part of your report, that tender snarkiness. For the most part Dio was a perfect gentleman which you felt was a little phony.

“You cannot expect me to do anything vaguely helpful after calling me pathetic.”

“I could have sworn you had a thicker skin,” he said as a slight smile crossed his face.

It would have been cruel to deny him so you handed over the bottle. His fingers brushed up against yours, the pads of them roughened by years of playing rugby. You thought about how they’d feel caressing your cheek. And you thought about how the weight of his palm would feel against your neck. Closing your eyes, you hoped to push the thoughts from your mind.

“My skin couldn’t be thinner,” you said exhaling.

Dio stifled a laugh before taking a sizable swig from the bottle. He wordlessly handed it back to you. You went to take another sip, but hesitated. Your skin was flushed and you felt like the temperature in the room had risen a few degrees.

“Where did all your conviction go? Didn’t you say something about getting so drunk you go blind?”

“I was coming off the high of graduating. I can't be held accountable.”

You rolled up the sleeves of your dress shirt and unfastened the first few buttons, incredibly thankful your parents suggested dinner be a more casual affair. You couldn’t imagine how miserable you’d be if you were cursed to wear a corset and bustle along with a florid gown.

“We should probably go back out there. Let them know we’re alive.”

You groaned. “But all those people...”

“There are seven people here including you, your parents, and me.”

“Do you want to go back out there?”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed.

“I am torn though,” you murmured before gulping down some whiskey, savoring the woody burn it left on your tongue. “Watching all those people kiss my father’s ass would be hilarious to see but I—I’m… It also sounds terrible… Because… I’d have to talk to… people.”

Dio clapped.

“Bravo. Your articulation is unmatched.”

You kicked him.

“Asshole. Be nice. We’re in my house.”

“Last time I checked you didn’t own it.”

“Last time I checked…” You struggled to put together a retort. “You… Fuck off.”

“I’d rather fuck you.”

His frankness caught you off guard. You nearly choked on your own tongue.

“That’s not very gentlemanly of you,” you muttered, trying to cover up your growing embarrassment.

You always had a crush on Dio, but you buried it deep down inside yourself in hopes that it would dissipate. It wasn’t worth pursuing him. You told yourself a smattering of assumptions to aid it: he’s betrothed to someone else, he’s too popular for a slag like you, he probably snores, he’s not into women. You weren’t sure if any of those things were true, but you tried your damnedest to believe them wholeheartedly.

“I’ve drank too much to be a gentleman.”

Looking him in the face was a struggle. There was no way you could keep up your façade if you had to confront his copper-colored eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re not interested,” he teased.

You wanted to slap the devilish smirk off his face. He was right; you were very interested in having his cock throbbing your cunt. But the library wasn’t conspicuous. Hell, the doors didn’t even lock. Anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

You exhaled and decided to be frank.

“You’d have to be a fool not to notice I suppose.”

He inched closer to your end of the couch. You leaned away from him, hoping that keeping your distance would let you fight off your ardor.

“I’m not going to force myself on you. But you’d be a fool to deny me.”

“Good thing I don’t mind being a fool,” you said, laughing nervously.

“I, Dio, can’t accept that,” he slurred.

“Even if I wanted to… y—you’re too drunk. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“You’re just as drunk as I am. Don’t be stupid.”

“Are you going to insult your way into my pants?”

“Only if it’s working,” he said before making grabby hands beckoning you to pass him the bottle.

You took a quick sip before handing it over. You watched in horror as he finished off the last of it. Sometimes you worried about his drinking, but your concern always felt hypocritical considering you were his drinking buddy. So many nights spent intoxicated, stumbling down empty streets, illuminated by moonlight.

“Is it working?” He asked expectantly.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“There’s no need to be so demure.”

His face was inches from yours. The aroma of whiskey radiated off him, the scent overwhelming your senses.

“You know you want me,” he purred.

“Even so my father’s down the hall. It’s too risky. I don’t even want to think about what my mother would do.”

“As if that doesn’t make it more intriguin—”

“Don’t tell me you want to get caught!” You exclaimed.

You quickly covered your mouth with your hands as if that would've muffled your previous comment. Your skin grew even warmer, the embarrassment becoming unbearable. You wanted to fuck him, to feel his rough hands all over your body. But you knew it would be a disaster if you were caught with Dio of all people. Your family found the blonde charming, but his status as an adopted son was a stain upon his existence. Sure, he had good manners and seamlessly adjusted to living in the lap of luxury, but he was still a low-class lout from the slums of London.

“Oh god no. That’d be awful, but you have to admit it’s sort of appealing. You did say you wanted to be entertained. I can’t think of a better way.”

“Dio…”

“Like I said, I won’t force myself on you. But I don’t plan on giving up so easily.”

“Th—that sounds rather ominous,” you laughed nervously.

He leaned in closer, the heat of his body intermingling with yours.

“You love it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You need me inside you.”

He glanced down and noticed he was unbuttoning his pants.

“I haven’t even agreed to anything yet!”

“Hm, I find it hard to believe you don’t at least want a peek.”

Damn. It. He was right. You desperately wanted to know what his cock looked like.

“If you’re that nervous I’m certain we can think of something else to do. I already have an idea.”

“And what is that exactly?” You asked.

“Let’s violate ourselves in front of each other.”

You cocked an eyebrow. Now that wasn’t a bad idea at all. You’d even argue it was a good one.

“That does sound thrilling. Though I may need more convincing.”

Dio leaned back against the arm rest. Once again he flashed a smirk only the devil himself could muster. You desperately tried to invoke some semblance of bravado to hide your simmering lack of composure. All bets were off however when he pulled out his cock. It was thick and long with a couple veins snaking around it, and it curved slightly upwards. It was gorgeous.

“Are you impressed?”

“No. I mean, very,” you choked out.

He licked his palm and began to stroke his raging erection. You were frozen in place, your eyes trained on the blonde masturbating in front of you. You were utterly transfixed, intoxicated by the playful gleam in his eyes.

“Are you waiting for a written invitation?” He questioned.

“What? N—no,” you stuttered as you undressed.

You dropped your trousers and undergarments on the floor in a heap. You felt so exposed compared to Dio. If your parents were to walk in he could easily force his cock back into his pants, but you were naked from the waist down which was much harder to disguise. You cursed yourself for chucking the throw pillows across the room when you first decided to hole up in the library.

“Quit pretending to be shy,” he hissed. “Spread your legs.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Any discomfort you previously felt melted away. You never realized how much power his words held over you. You repositioned yourself on the couch and spread your legs, letting him get a scenic view of your cunt. You cupped your hand around your mons and let your fingers drift down your clit. Your eyes were fixed on his cock, lust radiating from your gaze.

“You want me. I can tell,” he said, stating the obvious. “You couldn’t hide it if you tried. Pitiful.”

You hated how right he was. Having his cock buried in your cunt sounded spectacular. But you simply couldn’t, at least not tonight.

“I bet you’ve been waiting your whole life for something like this to happen.”

Once again, he was right.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you said as you spread apart your folds.

“I’ll do that once you stop being so obvious.”

“Liar. We both know you’ll always have a needlessly large ego.”

“Needlessly?”

Your legs tensed up, muscles constricting with pleasure.

“Ye—yeah,” you groaned. “You heard me.”

You slipped your fingers inside yourself, coating them with your fluids. Your cunt throbbed as you pulled them out and let them slide along your labia. You were so sensitive, almost certain your climax was on the horizon. You hated being so easy, so quick to come. But there was no way you’d be able to stave off the ecstasy enveloping your existence.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you?” Dio asked as he rubbed the tip of his cock with his thumb.

His cock was like a beacon, glistening with precum. You wanted to wrap your lips around it and let him fuck your mouth to his heart’s content. Your breathing gradually morphed into subdued panting. You were coming undone. Dio’s verbose declarations and moaning didn’t help. You didn’t expect him to be so vocal.

“You look as pathetic as ever,” he said, gripping the length of his cock.

“You don’t look much better.”

“Ha. Sure I don’t.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

He was holding it together better than you, but still he was slowly breaking down. His strokes grew faster, his hips bucking against his fist ever so slightly. You knew you were a sight to behold, that he was loving every second of this.

You went to speak but you were soon overwhelmed with pleasure. It was as if your body was sinking into the couch as your orgasm overtook you. It started as a tingle in your toes and then proceeded to barrel through your body like a wild animal. You held your free hand over your mouth to temper your moans.

“Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you say my name.”

You wanted to kick him off the couch, but refrained and relented.

Dropping your hand, you cried out his name.

“Again,” he ordered, clenching his jaw.

You repeatedly moaned his name, letting it fall from your lips like a prayer. You only stopped once the tingling and warmth invading your body ceased. You turned your attention back towards him. He looked so satisfied. Him deeming your declarations enjoyable filled you with pride.

“Would you mind if I helped you?”

Dio’s eyes widened though he quickly regained composure. He unfurled his hand from his cock and grinned.

“By all means,” he replied, gesturing towards his cock.

You got closer to him and gripped his cock. You brought your face closer to it and rolled your tongue against the tip. You ran your tongue along the underside, relishing in the low groan it elicited from him. You savored the precum that coated his cock.

“Who’s pathetic now?” You said, flicking the tip with your pointed tongue.

“Stop talking and suck.”

You rolled your eyes and proceeded to service him. You breathed through your nose and gradually took the full length of his cock into your mouth. He placed his hand on the base of your skull and pushed your head down. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to relent.

“Shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You were taken by surprise when he began to fuck your mouth. He latched onto a chunk of your hair, forced his cock in and out of your mouth. Your head vigorously bobbed up and down. You didn’t even gag. The pride you felt was insurmountable.

“You’re such a good girl,” he moaned.

You lived to be praised by Dio, to have his light shine down upon you. His words enraptured you and left you entangled in his charm.

His body tensed up and his hips rolled against your face. It didn’t take long for your mouth to get filled with the piquant taste of his cum. It flooded your mouth and seeped out from the corners, dribbling down your chin. Once he finished he gently pushed you off of his cock. You held his cum in your mouth and leaned in, cupping his face in your hands. Pressing your lips against his, you forced your tongue into his mouth. You let the cum you held in your mouth flow into his. He let out a grunt that seemed to have an air of unsureness, but he ultimately accepted your gift. Resting his hands on your back he passed his cum back to you. You broke the kiss and swallowed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand and cleared your throat.

Suddenly everything felt rather awkward.

“That was—”

“I’m sorry!” You blurted out. “I should have asked before I did that. To just spring it on you wasn’t fair.”

“You have no business interrupting me,” he chided. “Like I was saying, that was—”

“Terrible. Horrible. Ghastly even.”

His tone softened. “Hush. It was great.”

He rubbed the back of your head and pulled you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re much more forgiving than I’d ever be.”

“I believe you earned it.” He ruffled your hair. “We ought to make ourselves decent. Show our faces. Let everyone know we’re still alive.”

“No, come on. Let’s make them think we perished,” you whined.

You were kidding obviously, but you had no desire to face your parents let alone everyone else. Dio merely shook his head and put his cock back in his pants. You stood up and put yourself back together. You stumbled a bit like a fawn taking its first steps. The blonde snickered at your gracelessness and slung his arm around you.

“What do we tell them if they ask what we’ve been up to?” You asked.

He appeared to be deep in thought.

“We should be honest. I don’t think I could bear lying to them all.”

He sounded so genuine. If you didn’t know him well, you’d be apt to believe him. But you knew he was more wolf than sheep. You elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’re the worst. I’m telling them you were puking in a vase and I had to console you.”

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