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railingsofsorrow · 8 days

Text

we'll be alright

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.

A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“what are you doing?”

“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”

you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.

“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”

“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”

“have you told him?”

“no.”

her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.

“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.

seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.

“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”

you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.

“thanks, jayge,” you say.

jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.

“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.

“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.

he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.

you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”

“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.

“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”

“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”

you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”

“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”

a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.

“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”

“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.

“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”

your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.

you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.

“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.

“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.

“you said I can't.”

“you're correcting my misspellings now?”

spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.

“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.

he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.

“are you okay?”

silence. and then,

“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.

“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”

“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”

“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”

you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”

“and I don't believe you.”

somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.

“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.

spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.

“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”

“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”

“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.

“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.

“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”

“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?

spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.

he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.

he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.

it's actually the opposite.

“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.

“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”

letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”

he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”

“are you mad?”

he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”

you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”

spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”

your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.

“what?” he nudges your nose with his.

“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.

“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”

you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.

spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj

#reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

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finelinevogue · 2 months

Text

always

summary - you and harry finally say those three words

pairing - actress!reader x harry

word count - ~1.5k

💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗

It was the Oscar’s after party at Vanity Fair and you were a little tipsy.

A happy drunk, some may say.

Just tipsy enough to be able to giggle at everything, but to also still have your entire wits about you. Your boyfriend on your arm was exactly the same. It was lucky neither of you were the designated driver.

“It was nice seeing you!” You politely waved off two people you would not mind never seeing again.

After they were gone, Harry clearly had the same opinion as you.

“Knobheads.” He muttered close to your ear, so no one with a camera could even pick up what he was saying.

“That’s Hollywood, my love.”

“Yeah, but they could have been slightly more discreet about only liking your recent film because you were topless for a small scene.” He huffed.

You looked up at him, filtering out every other star-studded celebrity in the room.

“They were two white old men, what did you expect?”

“Some respect.”

“At least I’ll always have you for that.” You cupped his cheek and his frown melted away. The soft touch of your skin against his was enough to coax back the smile that had been missing on his face.

Harry continued to look at you as you looked at him.

You couldn’t help but give off a blush and a nervous smile as you watched his gaze upon yours. “What?”

“Nothing,” He tried to bite back a ridiculous grin, “Just like that word.”

“What word?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Always.”

You thought back to what you’d just said and you ducked your head to hide the nervous smile widen, docking your forehead onto his chest.

You felt Harry’s chest rise and fall with a chuckle and you wrapped your arms around him to conceal all that happiness between just you two.

It was moments like this when you wanted to lean up and whisper those three words. The three words that apparently change everything. You’d never spoken them to anyone, like this, before so it was difficult to know how to even say them.

You were certain of one thing though. Even though you’d only been together for less than half a year, you’d never felt like this for anyone before. And sometimes you felt like Harry was the same.

You were certain that you loved Harry.

It was only a matter of how to tell him.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

An hour later and you found yourself at the front of the photo booth queue.

Harry had been doing his rounds, saying hello to friendly faces such as Billie and Florence.

You had done your rounds, as well as take non-negotiable photos with your cast mates for one final hurrah.

Even though your movie hadn’t swept at the Oscar’s this year, you were just happy to have been a part of it. Creating movies and bringing stories to life is more than you could ever have dreamed of. Plus, you always had Harry’s hand to hold through it all now - which made it easier.

Harry was in fact holding your hand now.

As Barry and Sabrina walked out of the booth, lipstick smudged all over Barry’s smirking lips, Harry squeezed your hand to signal you were next.

Harry held back the curtain for you, but you waited for him to sit down first.

There was a bench that could fit at least four people on it, but you and Harry had pre-discussed what your photos would be (whilst waiting in the queue) and you’d both agreed that you sitting on his lap was the only way.

The “only way” being Harry’s words…

Not that you minded.

“Only photobooth where you don’t have to pay.” You commented, as you situated yourself sideaways on Harry’s lap.

Your arms slunk across his shoulders for support and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

You moved slightly to get more comfortable on Harry’s thighs.

“Stop wriggling.” He grunted, making you instantly stop.

“Wh… Oh… Oh, Babe! You’re so….” You laughed at him.

“Hey, you’re not the one who has to go back out there with an obvious issue.”

“Doesn’t have to be an issue…” You attempted your best seductive whisper, but ended up bursting out giggling at the end.

“I hate you.”

You shut up, but his words had you thinking about the hidden meaning. He clearly didn’t hate you, that much was quite visibly obvious, so did he technically mean the opposite? Did he actually mean he lo–

“Y/N/N?” Your nickname being spoken brought you away from your thoughts, “You ready?”

You cleared your throat and approved.

The camera counted down…

The first photo would be of you and Harry simply smiling at the camera, faces leaning against each other.

3. 2. 1.

*snap*

You quickly moved yourselves for the next photo.

The second photo was of Harry kissing your cheek, whilst you made whatever face you wanted to. You decided to scrunch your eyes and smile like an idiot - because that’s how it felt to be in love.

3. 2. 1.

*snap*

In love.

That’s what you were.

You were insanely in love with Harry and he deserved to know. You deserved to share this love.

“Love?” Harry quickly reminded you off the next photo quickly approaching.

It was meant to be of you now kissing Harry’s cheek and him doing whatever he wanted, but now you wanted to do something else.

You cupped the far side of his cheek gently and leant your lips against his ear.

“Y/N?”

“I love you.”

*snap*

Harry quickly turned his head towards you, nearly knocking your nose off in the process.

“What?” He had tiny pools of water collecting in his eyes.

“I love you.” You smiled warmly, softly rubbing over his cheek.

“Fuck.” He smiled, letting a tear fall.

“I love you, too.” He said.

“So much.” He cupped your cheek.

And he kissed you with so much force.

*snap*

You almost fell back with how much he pushed into you, but that’s what kissing him felt like anyway - free falling.

Saying three words had never felt so explosive.

It was like a confetti cannon had been set off and the confetti was all your love for each other being scattered around the photo booth. You felt full and happy, and you could tell by Harry’s kiss that he felt exactly the same.

You pulled back, licking your lips and trying your best not to cry in case it ruined your makeup.

Harry didn’t care, he let some tears fall.

You brushed them away carefully with your thumbs.

“Those better be happy tears and not tears of instant regret.” You joked.

“Happy falls a bit flat of describing how I feel right now, love.”

You giggled and pushed yourself back onto his lips, kissing him to let those three words sink in more.

He moved back, needing to take you in, in this moment, before giving you a few smaller kisses.

“We should go.” You whispered.

“No.” Harry pouted.

“H, this is a photo booth not a kissing booth.”

He laughed, “Okay.”

You both got up to leave, pushing the curtain away and taking the little strip of photos from the deposit on the side of the booth.

Two had printed.

You both laughed at the one where you’d spoken those little words, because Harry’s facial expressions were so funny. He looked a mixture of shocked and happy all at once.

Harry tucked the photo strip into the inside pocket on his suit jacket, whilst you kept a tight grip on yours.

You held onto Harry’s hand and hugged onto his arm.

“That was a better moment than any Oscar award.” You honestly spoke.

Harry leant down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you.” He looked genuinely excited to be able to say that to you. “And I’m proud of you.”

“I know.”

“Oi, don’t you Star wars me!” He mocked. “Say it, or else.”

“I looooovvee you.” You teased out the word. Harry shook his head at you for being so annoying, but also he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Those three words belonged to him now as they belonged to you. And always will.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec #harry styles oscars #harry styles fan fics #harry styles photo booth

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

Little Sneak

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader [Zuzu Centric]

Summary: Anon Req: What about a part 2 to Sticking Together where all the children are older and Zuzu is upset about not being able to go to the camps like her brothers and cousins. Maybe she ends up sneaking off and gets hurt or something. Some lovely angst would be appreciated. Only if you want to of course, pls and thank you.

Warnings: Angst, suggestions of a child going to be harmed (child is not actually harmed)

Word Count: 2,357

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“Why must all my children defy me?” Azriel questions, pacing the length of the room. You’re almost dizzy with it, how long his strides are and how short the path he’s making is. He’s nearly turning in circles now, wings flared with agitation, growing larger and larger the more he works himself up. When he nearly knocks a lamp burning low with a single faelight over, you slip from the bed.

You halt your mate with a soft hand to his shoulder. His wings tuck in tight, not because you’re going to touch them, because his body automatically moves to give you room. You take it, curling yourself against his chest, hands snaking around his waist and thumbing soothing patterns across the dip of his back.

You can feel his muscles contract as he shifts his wings to cocoon the both of you. Darkness shrouds you, but the light casts red through the membranous skin.

It’s a safe place for the both of you, tucked away from the rest of the world without actually removing yourselves from situations where you’re needed. You and Azriel had found yourselves in this position many times—when you first found out you were pregnant with Wren and Azriel was worried you’d have trouble delivering a babe with wings, when Baz nearly burned his hand on an unattended fire. When you had found out that Knox wasn’t going to be able to speak, and when your eldest sons wanted to be allowed to train in the Illyrian camps.

It’s funny that you find yourself here for the exact same reason. Your daughter, Zuzu, Mother bless her, yearns to join her brothers. Both Wren and Baz have completed a year, along with Nyx and Gideon. The four have formed a group just as their fathers had, not taking anyone’s shit no matter how much larger in size they may be. With the High Lord on their side, the young boys got away with much more than they should, though Rhysand does his best not to stick his nose into matters that should be left to camp leaders.

They’ve found their places as young warriors, and though they often get into trouble, you and Azriel are able to spend more time in Velaris, working on a schedule with both Cassian and Rhys, so that one of them is always staying in the family cabins when the boys are in training.

The beat of Azriel’s steady heart is strong, comforting, even though you know he feels as helpless as you do. Each and every one of your children are as stubborn as their father, even the more stoic of the six, like Jax and the twins. Malos could hold a grudge for ages, even against her own siblings. And poor Azriel refuses to admit that it’s a trait he’s bestowed upon the shadowsinger clan.

You squeeze your mate tighter, breathing in his comforting scent. Night-chilled mist from the long fly he’d had to take when Zuzu had told him the news. He hadn’t wanted to hear any part of it; his firstborn daughter wanted to train with males in the camps that will do nothing to look after her well-being. They won’t care if she’s beaten into the snow until she’s unable to move, if she can train as hard as the males, if she can do aerial maneuvers better than them. All they’ll see is a little girl who should be put in her place by the only means they know how.

The females won’t take kindly to her either. They’ll likely be jealous of the girl who’s wings are in perfect shape, who has the ability to fly and train and doesn’t have to spend back-breaking hours washing or cooking. No one but her brothers and cousins will be nice to her.

But she’s determined and headstrong. She’d confided in you first, and while you’d tried to talk her into joining Valkyrie training, she insisted that if there were young girls here willing to fight and join such a cause, why wouldn’t they extend the opportunity to those in the mountains? Your heart aches for your little girl, who wants to see the best in people, give them the chances they’ve long since needed. If she can encourage a single girl in the camps to join them as warriors, she will be proud.

“She means well,” you sigh against Azriel’s chest, hugging him tighter.

“Does she have to mean this well?” he asks, exasperation lining the frown on his face. He rubs your back in a soothing motion, and you know it’s helping him as much as it helps you. His chin rests on top of your head and a moment of silence stretches on as his shadows crawl from the walls, whispering in his ears, reporting back to him on how all of his children are under one roof, sleeping peacefully in their beds. “In a few years, Asteria will want to follow, and I think Rhys will actually kill me.”

“I won’t let him,” you grumble stubbornly, but it doesn’t carve a smile on Azriel’s face like it normally would. “And neither will Zuz.”

All your mate can do is sigh and hold you closer. “I hate that they’re growing up.”

“Me too,” you answer sadly, rocking in place with Az. He caresses the nape of your neck, tilting your face to meet his sad, hazel gaze. “Why didn’t anyone prepare us for the part where our children start growing up?”

Azriel shakes his head, dipping down to kiss you softly, tenderly. You are always his rock in the storms of his life. Always will be.

“I don’t know,” he pecks you on the mouth again, and there’s a glint in his eyes that has your body growing warm. “I do know that we can have another. Then we’ll have a little babe. It will make me feel like I’m not so old, that our youngest aren’t five-years-old.” He says it with a grimace.

The time is flying by, watching your children grow. Wren is a teenager now. A teenager, Mother help you all. And Baz is only growing rowdier with age. Zuzu wants to join her brothers and cousins in the camps, and Jax is still the stoic little boy you’ve ever seen, focused on working through his powers daily. He still struggles sometimes, needs to cuddle up with his father or you for a moment's peace, and he hasn’t shown any interest in being a warrior like his elder siblings, though if Azriel allows Zuzu to join, you’re sure he won’t be far along after. The twins are as inseparable as ever, stirring up mischief with their pesky little shadows. It’s nice to have them all still so close, but you know it won’t be that way soon.

“Can you imagine another one?” You ask, amused at the thought. More chaos, and you’re not entirely sure how your six children would react. You already have so many, what would they think?

“Yes,” Azriel answers, tone heated. He presses his hips more firmly against your own and you can feel the hardness of his cock in his pants. It makes your thighs go molten, especially when he’s looking at you like that. Like he’s going to both devour and worship you all night long. “Let’s put this conversation on hold.”

You can’t disagree with that.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

His shadows wake him up.

Azriel has gotten used to their presence, but his body is accustomed to them, awakening at the slightest sort of unease from them. Like right now.

He bolts from the bed, awakening you in the process. He almost feels bad at the hammering of your heart he can feel echoing in his chest, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been alerted that one of his children is currently missing from his home, and she hasn’t been located in the darkness of the camp yet.

“What’s going on?” You’re alert now. There’s something seriously wrong, by the look on Azriel’s face. The way that it’s set in stone yet his brows are furrowed with worry. Not the kind of worry where something is amiss in Velaris, but it looks like he had when Knox had been taken from you, the horror riddling his hazel gaze makes your stomach plummet.

“Zuzu isn’t in her bed,” Azriel answers, and he’s already dressed and heading out into the cold. You don’t expect him to wait for you, the both of you have a way of attacking these things as a team now, and you’re safer here with the rest of the children, anyway, and he curses himself once again for allowing his children to train at the Illyrian camps.

He doesn’t know how she’s managed to evade his shadows this time. His children are sneaky, quickly learning and testing how to keep from his radar, but Azriel is 500 years old and prides himself on his alertness.

Up until now.

He doesn’t even know where to begin. His mind is a mess with ‘what if’s’ and he can’t allow himself to begin pulling at that thread or he might very well decimate this entire camp.

He very well might, anyway.

Azriel’s already reaching out to Rhysand, waking him from his deep slumber and alerting the Inner Circle. He knows the High Lord will be here within minutes on a plume of black that no one wants to see. Zuzu has been Rhysand’s favorite from the moment she decided to toddle behind him into the longest meeting he’s ever had the displeasure of attending. But Zuzu had made it bearable, sitting in his lap and cuddling up in his arms like he wasn’t discussing convicts in the Prison nor how his armies might be able to help Springs.

A soft yelp is carried on a wisp of darkness from his shadows, his head whipping to where they’re alerting him. It’s Zuzu, and she’s whimpering a little as sharp nails dig into her coat, despite the thick jacket she’s pulled haphazardly around her shoulders. Her boots are untied, and the powdery snow is downtrodden with her footprints.

Azriel moves as quick as the night. He’s known for being undetectable, a whisper of a chilled breeze chasing through the trees. Tonight, though, he doesn’t mask the crunch of his boots in the snow, doesn’t smother the bright blue beaming from the seven stones adorning his armor. His knives are unsheathed at his side, steel singing for the promise of blood.

There’s a soft sound, like his daughter's cry has been muffled, and it fuels his anger, letting his body fill with black ink. It spills off of Azriel in waves, a death god come to seek his vengeance.

The clearing is a circlet of trees and fresh snow. The moon drips down into the open field, where Zuzu scratches at her captor. The female trying to pin his little girl to the ground hisses as her skin breaks beneath Zuzu’s nails. Azriel’s heart swells with pride as his daughter fights back, but this moment alone has made him realize that she does need proper training, and if she wants to join the ranks with her brothers and show all of these Illyrian swill what she’s made of, she will get that.

Azriel doesn’t recognize the female as he rips her away from his daughter by a fistful of hair. The female yelps in surprise, then screams in fear as she topples backwards, the avenging shadowsinger towering over her.

As if she thought she could get away with attempting to harm one of his children.

He feels the night air shifting behind him as he makes sure that his daughter is okay. Rhysand and Cassian appear before the female can gain her footing and take off, Cassian planting a foot in the middle of her back to keep her pinned to the frozen ground while Azriel consoles his daughter. Zuzu’s sniveling, fat tears rolling down her red cheeks as they escape. She doesn’t want to cry, she doesn’t want to show her father that she’s scared, but they fall without her permission anyway.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Azriel’s heart cracks a little, molten lava of anger filling the cracks. This female won’t last the fucking night. And if she does, it’s because he’s going to make her death last as long as possible for even thinking of touching his daughter. For making her cry.

He hushes her, a soft noise that makes her clutch onto his shoulders tighter. Azriel’s not wearing a coat, but he’s used to the temperatures, and the adrenaline rushing through his veins helps quell the bitter chill. He sends a reassuring feeling down the bond to you and your relief flushes his body tenfold, his shoulders dropping slightly.

“Are you okay, my love?” Azriel asks her, wiping the tears from Zuzu’s eyes. He swings her up into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead as he pins the female to her spot in the snow with furious golden eyes. “Are you hurt?”

Zuzu shakes her head and his knees nearly give out with relief. He sways them back and forth, whispering reassurances into Zuzu’s ears until she’s calmed down, before passing her off to Rhys who holds her just as tightly.

“Uncle Rhys is going to take you back to mommy, okay, Zuz? I’ll be back in a little bit.”

She agrees, blinking up at him with her big eyes. Azriel watches her try to look over her uncle's shoulder to see the female spitting vitriol at Cassian. Rhys doesn’t allow her gaze to see what’s going on over there, instead drawing her attention to him, shifting her so she can’t see, and disappearing into the night to bring Zuzu home.

Cassian crouches down to the female, grinding her face into the snow to stop the comments spewing from her lips. He whispers something so low that makes her entire body freeze, then thrash as if she actually has a chance of escaping.

Azriel steps up to her, a murderous look in his eyes, and he lets his blades do the talking.

#azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel/reader #daddy!azriel #azsazz zuzu

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magiccath · 4 months

Text

The Doctor's Coat

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which you're not that cold, you just like wearing the Doctor's coat (ft. a bit of Martha) (Based on a request from @internet-stranger-says-hi)

As always, it was supposed to be a relaxing trip. A normal weekend getaway in a fancy hotel. The Doctor felt a bit bad about all the running you had been doing, so he wanted to treat you and Martha.

But, trouble followed the Doctor, that much you knew. So, frankly, you weren’t that surprised when you ended up running around the massive building fighting off homicidal aliens. At this point, it was just another day for you. As annoying as it could be at times, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Doctor gripped your hand tightly in his as you ran, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours. He was very prone to grabbing your hand at the slightest suggestion of danger, but you seemed oblivious to this. Surely he must do that with everyone, right?

“I’ll hold them off!” Martha called from behind you, going down a separate hall from you and the Doctor. You knew she could more than handle herself, but you still worried. You didn’t like it much when the three of you separated. The Doctor, on the other hand, was more worried about getting you to safety. You were always his first priority.

He turned a corner sharply, almost ramming into the wall. His dirty old Converse thudded against the garishly patterned carpet as he rushed for the hotel’s kitchen. You struggled to keep up with him, desperately trying not to trip over yourself.

The Doctor led you through the winding halls at a surprising speed, the walls rushing by in a blur. You weren’t sure where you were, or where you were going. The only thing you did know was the Doctor would get you to safety. He always did.

He dashed through the closest door, casting worried glances over his shoulder. In his rush, he didn’t pay much attention to where you were going. He guided the two of you into a room without really looking inside and shut the door behind him. You were too busy catching your breath to pay much attention either.

“We should be safe in here,” he said reassuringly, peering out of the small window on the door. He still seemed entirely oblivious to your surroundings.

Your breathing started to steady and you looked around the room. A frost covered the walls and the metal racks, small crystalline structures stuck to anything they could latch onto.

“You put us in a freezer,” you pointed out, starting to feel the chill on your skin. It wasn’t unbearable, just noticeable.

The Doctor looked around, just now realizing where the two of you had ended up.

“Well…” he winced, peeking back out again. The kitchen appeared to be empty.

“We should probably be safe to make a run for it,” he suggested, pacing back and forth. “We could reconvene with Martha and get out of here?”

“Let’s,” you shivered, the cold starting to penetrate your sweater. The sooner you could get out of here the better.

The Doctor moved to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked it repeatedly and even tried kicking it. He pulled the Sonic Screwdriver out, buzzing around the door. Slowly, he turned back to look at you with a nervous smile.

You’d seen that look many times before. You’d seen it when he left you stranded on Mars on accident, when he crashed the TARDIS into the side of your Grandparent’s house, and when he neglected to tell you he replaced the ship’s toilet with a DIY chemistry lab.

“You locked us in here,” you gasped, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” he winced. You could see on his face how much it upset him. As frustrating as the situation was, you couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him. You never did, no matter how bad he messed things up.

“It’s ok,” you whispered, shuffling your feet. You could handle a bit of cold, it’s not like the Doctor did it on purpose anyway.

“Here,” the Doctor said, slipping his coat off, “take this, it should help keep you warm.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t get cold,” the Doctor shrugged, pushing the coat into your arms. You stared at it for a moment, surprised to even be holding it. The Doctor’s coat was one of his most prized possessions, even if something just like it could be found in just about every charity shop across London.

Slowly, you slid your arms through the coat, shrugging it on. The fabric was a well-loved cotton, softened from years of wear and wash. Strangely, it was very warm.

“Better?” The Doctor asked, worried. You wrapped the coat tightly around yourself and smiled, nodding your agreement.

This was much better, and not because you were a little cold. The coat smelled like the Doctor - exactly like the Doctor. It felt like being hugged by him, and you relished the feeling. You burrowed further into the jacket, closing your eyes blissfully. You could stay like this forever.

“Hey,” The Doctor put his hands on your shoulders, “don’t fall asleep on me,” he urged, figuring that you were much colder than you were.

“Martha should be around soon and she’ll get us out, I promise,” he reassured, rubbing his hands up and down on your arms to create friction. You peered out from under his coat to look him in the eye. His face was riddled with anxiety, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring at you with worry.

You blushed a deep red, finding his concern adorable. You really were fine, especially now that you had a coat to keep you toasty. Even if you were cold, you wouldn’t really mind it considering the circumstances. You were wrapped up in the Doctor’s coat as he rubbed your arms lovingly - it was like a dream.

The Doctor misread your blush and assumed that the cold was flushing your face. He moved his hands up to your face, cradling it. He knew his hands weren’t exactly warm, but maybe the contact could keep the cold out. His thumbs rubbed soft, concentric circles into your skin. He traced the words of a language only he knew into your skin, trying anything to comfort you.

“I’ll get you out, it will be ok,” he reassured again. He moved his hands to wrap the coat tighter around your body, pulling the collar up to shield the lower part of your face. “Hang in there for me,” he urged, eyes still pained with anxiety.

You let out a soft shiver, the constant contact making you incredibly flustered. Again, the Doctor misread your responses to his affections. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure out a way to warm you up. If he lost you to frostbite due to his own obliviousness he would never forgive himself.

“Shh,” he hushed, even though you hadn’t said anything. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms again, desperately trying to warm you up.

“I’m so sorry that I got you into this situation,” he sighed, still rubbing you gently.

You shook your head quickly, “s’alright.” You would never admit it to him, but you were really enjoying this. Maybe being trapped in a freezer wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“No,” The Doctor shook his head, “it’s really no-”

Suddenly, the door to the freezer opened and Martha popped her head in. “What on Earth are you two doing in here?” She asked, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. The Doctor was known to do weird things, but this had to be high up on the list of strange hiding places.

“Martha!” The Doctor cried, overjoyed to see her. “Hurry, we need to get them out of here,” he urged, already guiding you out of the freezer. He practically pushed you out, his hands never leaving your body.

“Please check on them, they’re freezing,” he urged, guiding you to a seat. You were perfectly capable of directing yourself, but the Doctor seemed adamant on it. He was babbling incoherently, waving his hands about in distress.

“How long were you in there?” Martha asked, she had split from you less than an hour ago. Surely you couldn’t have caught frostbite in that little time. She leaned down in front of you, her fingers resting against your neck to check your pulse.

“10, maybe 15 minutes?” The Doctor started wringing his hands anxiously.

After taking your pulse she placed both hands on your face, gauging the temperature of your skin. You were chilly, but nowhere near cold enough to warrant the Doctor’s distress.

“They’re fine,” Martha shrugged.

“Are you sure? Check again,” the Doctor begged, his eyes still seeping with anxiety.

Martha sighed exasperatedly, “I’m sure.”

Behind her, you turned a deep scarlet. It was embarrassing to watch the whole interaction, but you were too flustered to admit that you really just liked wearing the Doctor’s coat. It was easier to let them argue than admit you had a crush.

“Look!” The Doctor cried, pointing at you, “They’re all flushed! Something has to be wrong.” He fiddled anxiously, bouncing slightly on his feet. Looking at him you’d think you had grown a second head or something terrifying.

Martha looked over at you, her eyebrows furrowed. You avoided her gaze, picking at your hands absentmindedly in your lap. She quickly picked up on what was happening and rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” She whispered to you sharply. You pursed your lips, shrugging slightly in response.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” The Doctor asked, growing more worried by the minute.

“Please tell him, this is getting ridiculous,” Martha groaned, her eyes pleading with you. There was only so much of this she could put up with.

“Tell me what?” The Doctor was hovering now, fiddling anxiously, “is everything alright, what’s wrong?” he asked you this time, moving closer to you.

“I’m gonna give you a minute,” Martha said, her eyes darting between the two of you. You tried to open your mouth to protest but she was already slipping out the door, leaving you alone with the Doctor.

He crouched before you, his hands resting on your knees, “what’s wrong?” He asked, looking up at you. You could tell he was holding his anxiety back, trying not to let his own worries affect you.

“I’m fine,” you blushed, looking down at the floor. You really didn’t want to admit your feelings for the Doctor, especially like this. You supposed you didn’t have much else of a choice, Martha had made sure of that.

“I-I just,” you whispered, not really wanting the Doctor to hear you, “liked wearing your coat.”

“You what?” the Doctor gasped, surprised. He wasn’t entirely sure he had heard you right.

“It smells like you,” you mumbled the justification more to yourself than him.

“You’re not sick?” He asked, clearly more worried about your health than your confession.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you let out a small chuckle, “nothing to worry about here.”

“You’re not cold?”

You shook your head, you were far from cold now. In fact, the anxiety was making you sweat.

“You just liked wearing my coat?” He clarified eyebrows furrowed as his brain struggled to keep up. Could this mean you liked him? He tried not to get his hopes too high.

Embarrassed, you nodded your head meekly. God, this was awful. You wanted nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Is that so?” He laughed, a cocky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh shush,” you scolded, hitting his arm lightly. Of course, he found this amusing.

He smiled softly at you, his eyes softening as he realized you were going to be ok. Better than ok. He brought his hand up to your face, cradling your cheek in his soft hand.

“Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?” He smiled inquisitively.

Your eyes widened, your face turning the deepest red it had been since getting into the freezer. Perhaps he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“Maybe,” you whispered, it’s not like you could really hide it anymore. The Doctor’s face immediately lit up, a large grin taking over his entire face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you frowned, confused by his sudden excitement. He should be upset, kicking you out of the TARDIS, or making excuses for reasons he couldn’t love you back. Instead, he was still sitting there looking at you with that stupid grin. It was impossible to fight back the small smile tugging at your lips when he was looking at you like that.

“What if I told you I had a crush on you too?” He whispered mischievously, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You stiffened, shocked by his admission. “If you’re having a joke I’m gonna throw you into an exploding star.”

The Doctor chuckled, the sound dancing around the room. “No, I’m not.”

“You really fancy me?”

“How could I not?” He hummed, stroking your cheek gently. You were stunning. You were always stunning to him, no matter the conditions.

The Doctor leaned closer to you, hoving slightly over your lips. His warm breath fanned your face, sending shivers down your spine. He stayed there for a moment, giving you plenty of time to pull back. When you didn’t, he brought his lips gently into yours.

He kissed you like you were his entire world, his hand still holding your face. He was soft and gentle, but incredibly loving. You melted against him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer to you.

Martha silently poked her head in the door to check on you, just in case. She sighed when she saw the two of you in a tight embrace, closing the door to go handle the alien invasion on her own.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor x reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor #martha jones #doctor who #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #The Doctor's coat #request #magiccath

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jellipuff · 19 days

Text

Angels wrapped in bows.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

WC: 2.5k

Summary: Being apart from Mingyu is always a challenge. No matter if for one minute or one week, you always find it challenging for many reasons and you know he feels the same. Yet who knew your pretty prince could get too greedy? Could crave you so deeply?

Warnings: Sub!mingyu, Bottom!mingyu, Dom!reader, Gender-neutral reader (let me know if it's not!), The term cock/strap is used in regards to reader, Gyu calls reader Daddy, Mingyu wants to get pregnant & reader gives mingyu anything he wants, (There is no real pregnancy just the situation being arousing for them both), Breeding kink, Dirty talking, Mingyu gets cockdumb easily, Lots of cum talk, There’s a little cream🥧 scene at the end (Sorry, kinda not & it’s short dw!), Pet names: Mingyu (Angel, Prince, Baby.), Reader (daddy.), Mingyu in a pretty pink nightgown during this. <3 (I think that's it!)

Inspired by this ask!

A/n: Hi guys! I haven’t written in so long so I hope this isn’t too bad! ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ Since I haven't written in forever I'm trying to get back into the groove of it all so please be gentle with me LOL. Btw this might be a lil freaky for some hehe but I hope you like it! Also, don't like, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

Being away from mingyu is something you'll always consider a challenge. Whether it be he's simply in the kitchen while you are in bed or it is you on a week-long business trip with your phone being your saving grace. No matter the situation the feeling is always the same; you crave mingyu in every sense of the word.

This week's business trip has finally ended and you couldn't be more relieved. You hate being surrounded by so many people especially those who can't even return a nod your way. You can't say you blame them, with the constant meetings, elders feeling the need to raise either voice and business being the only thing talked about. It would take a toll on anyone, especially when it reoccurs for a week.

Although boring and uneventful you can't help but feel grateful at being kept busy. The whole time you were gone Mingyu mostly stayed at home by himself. He explained that he can't go out with his friends every day. (you told him you'd want to hang out with him every day, cutie got shy at that.)

─﹒☆﹒─

The sight of your front door makes you want to jump for joy. Behind there is a soft bed, a warm shower, and a pretty prince. With it being so late you enter the house quietly, sticking your suitcase to the side, and putting your shoes together neatly. The last time you kicked your shoes off without care you got an earful. Who knew for mingyu to use his size against you all you had to do was be a brat about tidiness?

You open your bedroom door quietly, careful not to wake mingyu if he's already asleep but to your surprise the lamps are on. Though that’s the last thing on your mind when you see him.

Your prince who you haven't seen in a week stands by one of the walls hanging up new fairy lights while wearing one of his dainty nightgowns. Not just any one though, your favorite one. Pretty pink gown with lace detailing, tiny bows at the hem, and one in the middle of his chest. The lighting from the fairy lights overhead cast him in a glow, making you feel like you had truly walked into heaven.

Walking up to him, you wrap your arms around his waist squeezing him tightly. You kiss his forehead with a hum, satisfied at having him in your arms again. He flinches at the contact, his surprised expression making you snicker. “You scared me!” he says, turning around to face you. His expression is cute though you know he's trying to appear angry.

“You need to be more aware baby, what if I was someone dangerous?” you state amused at his reaction; moving down to nip at where his neck meets his shoulder. You feel him relax at the feeling, already giving into you at such a small action. “You are someone dangerous.” he counters, turning back to the wall. You admire the view because how couldn't you?

His broad shoulders, and toned back accompanied by his thick thighs is such an art that you'd be crazy to do anything less than admire. His cute ass that peeks from beneath the hem of his gown makes you drop to your knees to seek more. Slipping your hands underneath his gown to squeeze the plump cheeks.

It's so cute how Mingyu’s ass fits him, so biteable and soft. The chocked sound he makes at your teeth sinking into his skin tenderly makes you apply more pressure. You want your mark there, a sign to him and yourself that he is yours.

Mingyu winces at the feeling, the pain is one he doesn't mind. He knows you’ve missed him, in too many ways to count. He doesn't move even at the sting because if there is one thing Mingyu loves, it's being useful for you. A selfish reason lies within that as well, your angel loves being used by you.

Mingyu loves pleasing, a part of him relishes at not needing to think when you're around. Mingyu loves letting you do whatever you wish because it makes him happy. There's also the other side of the coin that makes him dizzy and that's letting Daddy fuck him wherever and whenever they want.

“Need it, Daddy, s’much” Mingyu whines after what feels like hours of your torment. You’ve been touching him all over, your mouth traveling every inch of him, getting him so close with so little just to stop soon after. He missed you a lot and needs to feel you inside right now!

Throughout the days you were gone all he could think about was: What would you do to him today if you were here? How would you kiss him Thursday morning while he made you both breakfast in the pink sweater you bought too big for him?

He even thought silly thoughts like: What if you cum in him so deep that he got pregnant?

Mingyu didn't think it was silly afterward with the way the thought made his mind hazy and hole feel too empty. He knows it won't happen, He is not even sure he’d want it to but the thought makes his face hot, and knowing you? You could convince him it would happen.

Could convince him that if rocked his hips harder it'd work faster, that if he clenched hard enough around you, you'd be milked dry and he'd be so full. He’d listen, he’d listen and be the best prince cause only Daddy uses his hole, so only you know what's best.

He melts into your hold as you finally enter him. The stretch adds a pleasurable pain sedating his burning lust yet he still feels too hot. You bite the shell of his ear before leaving a soft kiss behind it. Taking his hips in your hands as you guide him over your cock. Filthy words leave your mouth, the slight degradation in them said so lovingly that Mingyu considers it praise.

He's such a slut for cock? Yes, yours makes him pathetic.

He’s so sensitive he could probably cum with just kisses? Yes, because your lips tease and suck all over, making him yearn.

He's your pretty fucktoy? Of course he is, he's Daddy's pretty toy wrapped up in lace and bows. Daddy’s prettiest present to kiss, bend over and make cry whenever they want.

Your pace quickens, the sound of skin hitting skin egging you both on. The fairy lights above continue to make him glow, casting a halo on his head. Proving that he is Daddy's little angel.

“Daddy so good..” he groans out; ending his sentence with a small squeak as you seem to reach places he’s only tried to this past week. “Yeah? My poor prince must have been so lonely.” you sympathize. Pulling your hips back slowly you lean to kiss his shoulder blade. “So empty.” you insinuate with a strong thrust.

Mingyu cries out at the feeling, the power in your movements making him try to grab at something only to fall short at the flat wall in front of him. “Need it s’bad.” he mewls out. The thought that occurred to him while you were away the only thing currently in his mind. “Need what baby?” you ask fondly. He doesn't respond instead he moves one of his hands from the wall to intertwine with where yours lays on his stomach.

He moves his hips in a circular motion, turning to look back at you. He’s pouting as if you're supposed to know what he needs. You usually do but mingyu thinks you might not know what it is he really wants right now.

“Been thinkin' about it while you were gone.” he says but doesn't answer you. He rotates his hips in the opposite direction, whining at the feeling. The pretty pink gown swaying with the motion causes you to groan. You lower your free hand to Mingyu’s ass before giving a spank to the left cheek. “Spit it out angel.” you snap, feeling impatient.

You lean back to stand straight and he follows; laying his head on your shoulder. His body is bent erotically the arch of his back causes his chest to push out. You catch sight of his nipples under the slightly sheer fabric, you wish you could touch him everywhere at once.

He wraps his arm around the side of your neck to secure himself. He looks at your lips before licking them lightly. His gaze travels up to lock on your eyes, there's a seductive flutter to them, one that makes Mingyu's eyelashes feel like a trap and his irises capture you.

“You cum in me so deep and it's always really good.” he whispers to you. His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, drawing you in more than he already has you. “Feels so good you'd let me fuck you anywhere, anytime?” you press, voice low as you rut your hips up lightly making Mingyu’s eyebrows furrow in bliss.

“Feels so good I'd let you get me pregnant Daddy.” he corrects quietly. His words fill you with fervor, images of mingyu walking around the house in more pretty nightgowns while being bred by you. His hole leaking and messy with your cum as he makes breakfast, feeling content as his body glows. No matter how unrealistic it is, your hunger for him is real.

He grins before giving you a feather of a kiss when he sees the light in your eyes dim, now sharing the need with him. You fuck into him faster, his moans suffocating as it hits the wall in front of you. It's suffocating in the way they sound so pretty, in the way it motivates you to keep going, to pull more out of him until his throat is sore.

Mingyu’s cock bounces between his legs, pretty cock shiny with arousal and frustration. You pull back to grip his hips harder, fuck into him just a little bit harsher until he’s crying. “Daddy, w–wait, t’much!” he sobs out. You slow, beginning to kiss up his jaw, his cheek, and a gentle one on his forehead.

You move a hand to splay on his stomach as you fuck up into him with slow but deep thrust. Making sure he feels every inch of you glide in and out of his walls. You’re making sure to hit his prostate with intention causing your poor prince to grip your wrist. “Pretty body is so big and strong, it already has all of me but it wants more?” you taunt and he only whimpers, pushing his hips back for more.

Each time you drag your cock out he can't help but whine, even though he knows you'll always give him more, as every time you reenter he gasps. “It wants more of me so much that your hole won't stop pulling me back in.” He can’t reply, your thrust knocking all words and air from him and it's so good. He doesn't have to think right now, doesn't even think he could with all that's clouding his mind is the feeling of you inside.

“Gonna make you even prettier in this gown angel, gonna make you take so well.” you growl. Turning his head to face you, you capture his lips. The kiss is a contrast to your bodies. It's hungry yet soft. So full of care that Mingyu almost misses the way you bite his lip with a grunt, seeming to be caught up in the idea of his body being not only full of your love but also full of you.

And all Mingyu can do is let out pleas. His body finally got what it wanted yet he still begs. “Daddy’s gonna get me pregnant?” he questions, so far gone in his pleasure and you're no better. “You want it baby?” you moan into his ear. “Yes! Yes…” he cries, head nodding along to his words. “Then daddy will give you it angel.”

─﹒☆﹒─

You don't know how much time passes by as you both stay in this lustful haze. You came more than once and immediately stopped counting. His hole exposes that fact erotically. Cream around your strap and his pretty hole. The sight alone makes you want to cum again.

“Daddy it's getting messy, t’much cummin out.” He whines. You'd almost think he's complaining if you didn't know how much he loves it like this; with his head empty and his hole dripping. Angel doesn't even notice his lisp being more apparent. He's so cute, so perfect, so big that you’d be crazy not to stuff his hole until it takes. (Though the thought of pulling out just to see him tear up and babble about putting it back in appeases you.)

“Thought you wanted my cum, pretty prince?” you remind as you guide you both to the bed. Laying him on his back. You lift his legs over your shoulders; moving down to kiss both his nipples lightly. “I do s’much. imagine all of it in here, Daddy, please.” he snivels as he looks down at his stomach before meeting your gaze. His eyes are shiny and his hair is tousled as it sprawls over the pillow. Your pretty prince is the real danger here, despite his claims of it being you.

You bite back a moan at his words. Holding his hip tight letting your fingers push into the little bit of plush there. Everything feels too much, too little, so good. You almost don't want to cum again, wanting to stay here like this with him forever. Yet you feel the familiar tingle in your skin and your brain fuzzes as pleasure overtakes you once more. Your orgasm is strong even after the previous ones.

Mingyu reaches down to his cock, finally giving it attention. It only takes three strokes and a weak thrust of your hips for him to shake with a yelp. His orgasm making his breath quicken and his legs tighten around you.

You both catch your breath before you pull out and Mingyu decides to be a brat as he immediately pulls his legs back to show you all of him. His puffy hole clenches causing cum to squeeze out. God, why is he such a blessing and a curse in the best way possible?

“S’much inside Daddy, look how much is coming out” he slurs softly. He stares at you as he pushes more out and you moan quietly at the sight. He giggles at his effect on you, the power he has to make you feral is something he takes pride in. You avert your eyes from where you both connected to look back at him.

“What do you say baby?” you inquire. Kissing his ankle softly before letting go. He closes his legs making the pink gown fall to lay at his thick thighs.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

P.s: guys this might be the last pure smut for a little minute as i have a few full fic ideas I'm finally starting to plan and work on! horny writer user @/jellipuff is not out of commission guys, she's just finally going to try, write & finish her fics instead of 1.0k+ smuts. 😞

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Second Chances - Neteyam x Omatikaya!Reader

summary: y/n and lo'ak were destined to be together, or so she thought... after moving to awa'atlu with the sully's, lo'ak starts to fall for a certain metkayina girl, leaving y/n completely heartbroken. it is unexpected when neteyam, who has been secretly harboring feelings for her, decides to tend to her wounds. can y/n reciprocate his love?

wc: 9,6k

contains: angst, sort of love-triangle (lo'ak - y/n - neteyam), childhood friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: based on this idea i had a while ago, so i'm finally getting to sharing it with you! if you are a lo'ak girlie, this is probably not for you haha. please don't forget to show some love in form of replies or reblogs (it is really devastating when you work on a 10k fic and only get 8 comments)

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Bonds could be formed before Eywa, but they could also be broken. That was the law. Hearts that once beat as one could grow apart, it didn't always last. It was rare, but it happened. You understood this, as did Lo'ak, who knew it firsthand, growing up with the love story of his parents. But the two of you had never expected that it could happen to you someday.

You often thought back to your life in the forest, where even amidst the ongoing war, things seemed to be much calmer and peaceful than they were now, within the reef clan. The instability and uncertainty, the risk of clan members never returning, the frequency of grieving ceremonies, everything seemed unimportant, when you had one sure thing in your life - Lo’ak. He had been your unwavering rock, the only one who could see through you, see you. Until he didn’t.

Since the day you burst into Sully's home at the age of seven, with your mother trailing behind to prevent you from disturbing Toruk Makto's family, it was clear that you and Lo'ak were two pieces of the same soul. It was always trouble when it came down to the two of you, sneaking out, and stealing everything that could be turned into a game, coming home covered in dirt and debris. Your parents often joked that you were like a mirror held up to Lo’ak: he was the instigator, and you were the tail. It was mostly Lo’ak initiating the trouble, but you were always right there with him, egging him on. You couldn’t help it, you loved the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, and the way he held you in his embrace, chest vibrating with the sounds of deep laughter, when you got yourselves into sticky situations.

Soon enough, the whole clan could see that a strong bond was starting to form between two souls so alike, it was almost uncanny. The two of you felt it too. Every angry scolding from his father was yours to take as well, every injury and scar on his body was mimicked on yours, every loving gaze and touch of his mother was shared with you. The Sully’s became like a second family to you, and it was only a matter of time before you would officially be one of them. So, when they made the difficult decision to leave the clan and seek refuge in a foreign land, your parents reluctantly had to let you go with them, knowing that you were meant to be with Toruk Makto's son.

But now, whenever he looked at you, Lo’ak felt guilty. His heart filled with sorrow for the days when all that mattered to him was you - the smile that was plastered on your face when you greeted him, the warm gaze you casted upon him when he needed reassurance, the gentle touch of your fingers intertwined with his when words failed to express how he felt. It was no longer the same, his mind distracted by a thought more exciting. Unintentionally, really, if anything he tried his best to fight the pull towards the Metkayina tsakarem. He couldn’t explain it to soothe the pain, he just felt it. Like he had been guided to her by Eywa herself.

The doubts were suffocating you from the inside out at first, but you tried to ignore it. Lo’ak would never hurt you, he was only friendly to learn from Tsireya, so that he wouldn’t be a disappointment in his father’s eyes. When the clan had started to point out their friendship, and you heard gossip about the tsakarem finding her mate, you swallowed your pride and carried on, pretending that it didn’t bother you.

But when you watched them, you could see it clearly. They fit like two pieces of the same puzzle. Lo’ak brought in the thrill, in return, she grounded him. Bonds can be broken sometimes, you knew it. Tsireya seemed to know that too.

You had noticed the signs, but when he finally confirmed your worst fears, it felt like the wind was knocked out of you. It hurt your throat when you accused him, simultaneously feeling cruel for pointing out things you were hoping he could explain. But he didn’t deny it, the day he sat you down in a clearing, too similar to the one back home, and told you it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was the law of Eywa.

"I still care about you, I always will," he tried cupping your cheek with the same caress he used to preserve for you only, eyes glistening with tears.

"You promised," you hissed angrily, pushing him away, “You promised, and I believed you."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lo’ak dragged himself through the sand, his feet stumbling over stones, as he replayed the bits of your argument in his head. He couldn’t shake off the image of your face, the way you looked at him with so much anger and pain, it was almost like you were a different person. He never thought that there would be a day in his life when you would look at him with such disdain. If he could only change the way he felt but he was torn between his promise to you and his feelings for Tsireya, and he didn’t know what to do.

He had been walking aimlessly around the island for hours after you had demanded that he left you alone, and with the night growing darker, he dreaded going back home to avoid running into you. He took a deep sigh, approaching the family marui, the hopes of having his family already asleep immediately crashing, when a faint light glowed from within. Lo’ak really wasn’t in the mood for getting scolded.

“Where were you, boy?” Jake asked harshly, but there was a hint of concern evident in his face, as he began to quickly examine his son for signs of injury.

“Just…out, I got carried away,” Lo’ak mumbled, fumbling out of Jake’s grasp.

“Lo’ak, where is Y/N?” Neytiri’s voice followed, her worry barely concealed.

Lo’ak’s eyes darted around the pod - his siblings were there, but you weren’t. He swallowed nervously, under the weight of his family's scrutinizing stares.

“She didn’t come home?” he asked.

“She was with you, what do you mean?” Neteyam spoke up, confused.

Lo’ak’s stomach churned with anxiety; you were still out there, on an unfamiliar island, all alone. Alone because he had left you there.

“She was but we… we had a fight, and she didn’t want to see me,” Lo’ak admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, “I thought she’d be home by now, that’s why I stayed out so late.”

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Jake hissed, “You do not leave your mate alone in an unknown setting when it’s dark out. It’s not too hard to figure out.”

Lo’ak hung his head in shame, deciding against defending himself, as there was no point in doing so. He stood there, weighed down by his own guilt, when Neytiri's gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He looked up at her, seeing the concern etched on her face. You were like a daughter to Neytiri, and she couldn't wait for the day you were going to be one of hers, so the growing distance between you and Lo’ak worried her.

Jake leapt into action, grabbing his flying gear, with Neteyam following closely behind. The older brother couldn’t help but feel bad for not bringing up your absence earlier. He should have trusted his gut that something was wrong and had gone after you hours ago. Should have known that Lo’ak would find a way to mess it up.

“I’ll come with you, dad,” Lo’ak stated but Jake’s face hardened at the mere suggestion.

“You have done enough.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Now every time when Neteyam went to sleep, he often thought back to the night he found you. His eyes would linger on the corner of the marui, half-expecting to find you there, deep in your sleep, only to be met with the image of your empty mat.

He was flying over the island on his ikran then, when he spotted a small figure, hidden in the thick greenery of Awa'atlu. He mumbled something to his father through the wired necklace, before diving down.

You were lost in a sea of tears, so consumed by your own grief that you didn't even notice when Neteyam landed next to you with a gust of wind. It was only when he pulled you into an embrace that you felt yourself melting into him, a deeper pain forming in your chest and suffocating you from within. Your whole body shook with the force of your sobs, and you clung to Neteyam desperately, imagining that it was Lo’ak, who had returned to tell you it was just a stupid joke.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he asked gently, but you shook your head desperately at that, forgetting to breathe in between your whimpers, “Y/N, you need to breathe.”

Neteyam pursed his lips together, raising his fingers to his necklace, when he heard his father’s voice on the other end.

“No, sir, she is not injured. But she doesn’t want to come home,” he fell silent for a moment before continuing, “I will make sure she is okay, you can trust me.”

As you started to feel more and more exhausted and began dozing off, Neteyam lifted you gently into his arms and flew you back home. He was grateful that you were asleep and spared from having to face the worried looks on his family's faces. He was especially relieved that you didn't have to see Lo'ak.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Lo'ak did not miss the way his chest tightened with ache, when you passed by him and lowered yourself on the other side of the circle, your eyes fixed on the ground, barely holding yourself composed during the shared lessons. His lingering gazes were miserable taunts because they meant nothing when you saw him struggle to breathe with Tsireya's palms resting on his chest. His questions to you hung unanswered in the air, as purposefully ignored him.

"Hey, would you like to practice with me? I think I'm losing my focus easily," Neteyam nudged your shoulder.

"Sure," you mumbled with a mixture of irritation and gratitude.

Neteyam was older than you, exuding maturity and confidence in everything he did and everywhere he went. It was no different in Awa’atlu, even when the weight of his responsibilities shifted drastically, he was still prioritizing others. Unlike Lo’ak, who usually cared for you only, Neteyam's range of care extended far beyond that. So you saw right through him trying to take you under his wing, when you no longer had someone to pair up with. He wanted to be the helping shoulder for you.

It was complicated. You had left your whole life behind with only one certainty, and now that you had lost it, you were entirely alone among people who saw you as a weakling and pitied you for your broken heart. You would be lying if you said you didn’t contemplate sneaking out on your ikran one night and returning home, pretending as though you didn't like your new life and that you were no longer in love with Lo'ak. But the idea of your clan looking down at you too made your chest swell even more. You were stuck. Lo'ak left you stuck all by yourself, and he was no longer there to reach out his hand to you and pull you out of the trap. Because this time he himself had set the trap for you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I just feel silly sometimes... I knew it was possible but I didn't think it could happen to us," you confessed with a deep sigh, avoiding the amber eyes fixed on you, "I always relied on him for everything, but now I feel alone. Completely alone."

Neteyam watched you with curiosity, discovering a side of you that was previously closed off to him. Perceiving him as an older brother sometimes put a boundary between you and him, blurring Neteyam into the background. He was like an extension to Lo’ak, never granted the same privilege of knowing you until now. Neteyam’s eyes lingered on your quivering lips, recognizing the same brave face his brother often put on to avoid showing vulnerability. He felt cruel and selfish for savoring this moment of you opening up to him. Not to Lo’ak, to him.

"He is a skxawng," he growled, trying to offer some support in the form of anger.

"Yeah, he is," you agreed with a small chuckle, despite both of you knowing that it wasn't really Lo'ak's fault.

You fell quiet again, your back leaning against the tree, fingers wandering in the fresh grass underneath you. Neteyam watched you intently, wondering about what was going on in your mind. He grew tense, struggling to guess, but you were difficult to read, your countenance rarely altering. His patience ran out, and his reserve crumbled as he blurted out with a pleading voice.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you replied, looking up at him hesitantly before revealing your secret, "Just… when it gets too difficult, I like to imagine flying far away from here.”

"W-what?" he stuttered, "You want to leave?"

"I like to imagine that I can," you clarified, “I’m not really considering it, ‘s just a comforting thought, you know? Makes me feel free… like I have all the power over myself."

You could have sworn at that moment that Neteyam let out a relieved breath. It was strange to open up to him, someone whom you had never trusted with your thoughts before. But his usually annoying calmness was suddenly all you needed. He didn't judge you, didn't pity you, like the others.

His family was suffocating you with love to overcompensate for Lo'ak’s inability to give it to you anymore, and for some reason, it made you resentful. So you asked for a separate marui where you could stay by yourself for the time being. You often avoided them in public and stayed close to Rotxo during your lessons, ignoring the conversations Kiri tried to pursue with you. Eventually, the Sully’s started to give you space, everyone except for Neteyam. He was persistent, asking you to pair up with him during the lessons under the excuse that he was failing, and you were ‘so quick to learn.’ Challenged you to accompany him on walks because he needed a trained warrior to look out for him. You saw right through his acts of kindness but your heart longed for company, and he was always there, basically pleading you to join him. So you did.

Short and harsh replies eventually grew into longer chats into deep conversations, with him mostly doing all the listening and agreeing, as you complained. You tried to avoid talking about Lo'ak, but sometimes you would let slip a small detail or two, throwing a piece of your soul at Neteyam and quickly closing off. He didn't mind it though, because every time you pushed him away, you opened up a little more the next time.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Stop staring. I get it, you’re mad at me,” Lo'ak rolled his eyes at his brother before hanging his head again.

“I am not mad at you,” Neteyam replied, watching with a keen eye as Lo'ak proceeded to clean the fish.

“Sure, just like everybody else isn’t,” Lo’ak huffed under his breath with slight annoyance.

Lo'ak found it increasingly difficult to face the reality when spending time with his family. Your absence had disrupted the usual balance, leaving him to endure their gnawing, judgmental stares by himself. They refrained from commenting, knowing that it wasn't a matter of discipline, it was a matter of the heart. But the silence was worse - Lo’ak would have preferred hours of lectures from his parents and bickering with his siblings instead. He especially dreaded spending time with his brother, who always stood next to him like a figure of justice, so proper and goody-two-shoes. It drove Lo'ak insane.

“I think you should talk to Y/N.”

“Talk to Y/N?” Lo’ak’s eyes snapped back at Neteyam in bewilderment.

Lo’ak wasn’t naive. Of course he had noticed the way his older brother tried to fix the situation, coax you out of your shell and bring you back into the world. He felt agonized that once again Neteyam had to stand in for him, clean up his mess. But he couldn’t be angry this time because he knew he was helpless.

“No way, she hates me right now,” Lo’ak shook his head, “She will probably despise me for the rest of my life. Not that I don’t deserve it…”

“You underestimate her,” Neteyam spoke calmly, “But she can’t move on until she gets her closure.”

“Closure?”

“You owe her that much,” Neteyam patted his brother’s shoulder, standing up.

Lo’ak sighed heavily as his brother’s words sank in. He knew that Neteyam was right; he did owe you that much. And he couldn’t just pretend like you never existed and move on with another girl without at least trying to make amends with you first. You deserved to know that he didn’t lie to you, it just happened. Lo’ak continued to clean the fish in silence, already trying to come up with a way to approach you.

“I’m going to check on her,” Neteyam said, grabbing his spear, “When you’re ready, you know where to find us.”

Lo’ak nodded absentmindedly, still lost in his own turmoil.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“See? I’m telling you, it is like the water here is way slippier than back home,” Neteyam joked, as his spear poked through nothing, the fish he had been preying on swimming away.

You laughed at his attempt, knowing well that he was only pretending to struggle. Back home, Neteyam was known for being great with weapons, especially spears, even though your clan rarely used them, having preferred bows and arrows. You gripped your spear, fixing your stance and focusing on catching a fish; the anger you felt towards Lo’ak in the past weeks had driven you towards excelling in your lessons and improving your skills. With a quick thrust of your weapon, you successfully pierced through a fish and brought it close to examine. Fighting for its life, the fish flopped around on the tip of your spear, splashing water onto Neteyam. You laughed as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the burning of the salty water, and shoved the spear towards you instead.

“Stop, Neteyam!” you yelled out, trying to push it away from you, “I’m going to smell of fish!”

“You already smell like one,” he laughed.

Your fingers reached for the fish, pulling it off the tip gently and tossing it into the bucket next to you. Neteyam stood leaning on his spear, watching you with a small smile.

“What?” you grumbled.

“Nothing,” he shrugged.

“Stop staring, you look like a freak.”

"Tell me something I don't know," he rolled his eyes, and you felt a twinge of guilt.

Freak. It slipped out of you without much thought, but it was one of the silly nicknames that Neteyam and his siblings were called since their arrival to Awa’atlu. You felt bad, as you had it easier than them in those moments, seeming to be the most ‘normal’ to the Metkayina. But Neteyam didn’t even bat an eye at your words, like he was already used to it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that,” you reached out to touch his arm.

“It’s okay,” his eyes lingered on your hand before meeting your gaze with a softened expression, “You’ll have to try harder to offend me next time.” “Oh, you’re such a skxawng,” you playfully shoved him.

You laughed, as Neteyam stumbled back, losing his grip on his spear and falling onto his bottom with a splash. He started splashing you in retaliation, squeals and laughter filling out the air, as you let yourself get distracted from the usual gloominess that hung above you. That is until you heard him call out your name. Lo’ak.

You could feel the hairs on your back stand up, your spine straightening instinctively at the sound of his voice. Neteyam threw you a sympathetic look, as you turned around to catch the sight of Lo’ak, standing not too far from you.

“Can we please talk?” he asked.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself meet Lo’ak head-on, feeling as if something stirred within you. His face twisted under your stare, the apple in his throat wobbling, waiting for you to respond. Instead of granting him a verbal response, you shook your head and reached for the bucket handle to get away from there as fast as you could.

“He means well,” Neteyam covered your hand with his.

“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” you gritted through your teeth.

“I’m sorry, I just think you should talk,” Neteyam pleaded with you, “Please.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, letting him take the bucket out of your grip.

“Just trust me on this.”

You felt the anger vanish when you looked at him, his sincerity seeping through your defenses. It wasn’t hard to trust Neteyam, after all, he never made promises he couldn’t keep. You bit your lip, hesitating for a moment before slowly turning to face Lo'ak. Neteyam let his palm linger on the small of your back before brushing past you to leave you two alone.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Well, are you going to thank me or kill me?” Neteyam asked playfully but there was obvious tension in his stance.

“Neither,” you rolled your eyes at him, ignoring that small fleeting feeling of gratitude you felt.

He didn’t see you for almost a day after your conversation with Lo’ak, and frankly, he had been going a little insane over it. It seemed like Lo’ak and you were gone for ages, since he only caught a glimpse of his brother right before he went to bed. After leaving you to talk, Neteyam struggled to distract himself with a swimming practice, but quickly grew tired of it and trailed back to the place where he left you. He kicked the sand around in annoyance when he didn’t find you there, assuming that you moved to a more private place instead. He wondered if he had unwittingly pushed you back into Lo’ak's arms, and the thought made him feel sick to his stomach. It was probably wrong to secretly root for his brother and Tsireya to make it, but he couldn't help himself.

A small crush on you had started to grow in Neteyam's chest a long time ago, though he wasn't exactly sure when. Then suddenly, it had bloomed into a feeling so intense that it filled his lungs and made it hard to breathe. Whenever he saw the warmth in your eyes that was reserved only for Lo’ak, he would quickly look away, shaking his head to force himself to focus on something else. He often wondered if he had misunderstood his own feelings and was just happy that his brother had someone like you to rely on. It was too embarrassing to admit to his crush anyway, since he had been suppressing it for far too long now. Neteyam decided it was best to simply ignore it.

“I still kind of hate him but I don’t want to kill him anymore,” you tried to joke but it came out rather lame.

Neteyam winced at your words, but his expression softened into a grin soon after. You weren't one to joke around him often, but when you did, he found you amusing. It was nice to know that you could make the-always-serious Neteyam laugh.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam was the connecting link between you and his family, frankly, he considered you a part of his family for some time now. So when he begged you to join them for the evening, you couldn't bring yourself to refuse. It had been over a month since you distanced yourself from the Sully’s and moved out, and they were still having a hard time getting used to it. Neytiri and Jake, who tried talking to you during this time, felt particularly guilty for uprooting you and failing to keep you happy after promising to your parents that they would take care of you. You still saw the siblings more often, during your lessons, but it wasn't the same as it used to be. You weren't as close as you once were.

"Lo'ak won't even be home to make it awkward," Neteyam repeated, almost dragging you back home with him. "I'll take care of you."

It will be like the old times, he promised, except no one would mention your relationship with Lo'ak. But even without his warnings, his family knew better than to bring it up, as they didn't want to scare you away. Besides, he was getting irritated with his sisters' constant chatter about you. Or at least, that’s what he told you. You rolled your eyes, and you whined, and you almost broke your fingers trying to pull away from his grip, when you neared the family pod. Then it all came rushing back.

Neteyam's family couldn't help but feel a surge of love for him when they saw him bring you into their home. It had been a while since you had been there, and Neytiri was thrilled to see you opening up again. As they greeted you, Jake made a mental note to question his son later and find out how he managed to convince you to come. His sisters also couldn't hide their excitement as they beamed at you, though it felt just a little uncomfortable. His parents were visibly relieved to finally see you around, as, during all this time, they had been relying on Neteyam to check on you and make sure you were taking care of yourself.

You fidgeted in your seat, the tension in the room suffocating you. The breakup had taken a toll on you, and everyone knew it. But just as your anxiety was about to consume you, you felt Neteyam's hand sneak behind your back and touch your hand. Your fingers intertwined with his instantly, bringing you a piece of mind. It felt like everything was falling back into its place with him next to you.

Neytiri and Jake exchanged knowing glances, watching you chat with their kids animatedly, as the evening went on. Neteyam couldn’t peel his eyes off you, and it was so clear to them that their older son was more than smitten with you. Over the years, they had seen Neteyam grow into a mature and responsible young man, and they knew that he would make a wonderful partner for someone someday. So, while they felt a little strange about the change from Lo'ak and you to Neteyam and you, for some reason, it worked. Neteyam and you just seemed to fit better together, balance each other out, and they couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you and Lo’ak weren’t meant to be from the start.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re good for her,” Jake concluded, once the dinner was over, reaching forward to pat his son’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need that right now. She needs a friend,” Neteyam mumbled under his breath, hesitant to agree.

“You’ll have to tell her some day, you know?”

“No,” he shook his head, “She will think it is wrong.”

“What is so wrong about falling for someone?” Jake questioned, and Neteyam lowered his ears in defeat.

“It is wrong by the laws of Eywa. Her and I are not meant to be…”

“Neteyam,” his father’s tone softened, “You know that sometimes Eywa can change one's path, don’t you? What may have seemed like the wrong choice yesterday could end up being the only solution tomorrow. Just look at your mom and I. Do you think we're wrong together?”

“No, of course not. You’re perfect, actually…” he frowned under the weight of Jake’s words, “But Y/N, she’s… she doesn’t see me like that.”

“She might if you give it a chance. You need to follow your heart, Neteyam. It’s pure.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You laid on your stomach, chin resting on your hands as you watched Neteyam ponder his next move. The worn-out chess set, with its faded wooden pieces, had been a prized family possession since you and Lo'ak had stolen it from the science lab as children. It was one of the only things that you brought with you from back home to the island - a reminder of your childhood. Recently, Neteyam and you were especially fond of playing chess together.

Jake was proud to teach all of his kids to play the human game, and he enjoyed how much you seemed to like it. It was a small nod to where he came from, and while Neytiri never showed interest in learning it, as it was too foreign to her, she did appreciate the quiet it brought to her home. Sometimes, when the kids would get too tiresome, she would pull out the game and sit them down to play to keep them occupied and silent.

But Neteyam was too silent, almost distracted. He was making moves without his usual careful consideration, his focus absent, like there was something bothering him. It was unlike him to be losing, he rarely lost to anyone.

“Neteyam?” you propped yourself up, feeling the gentle sea breeze blowing through your hair as you addressed him.

“Hm?” he looked up at you, a little startled, as if he had forgotten you were there. "Oh, is it my turn to play?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “But are you okay? You seem distracted.”

"I am okay," he shook his head, shifting to sit up in a crossed-leg position. "I was just thinking."

You mimicked his movements, sensing that he was abandoning the game, ready to talk.

“What is it?” you reached to take his hand in yours.

Neteyam's gaze shifted to your fingers intertwined with his, feeling a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He had started holding your hand whenever he sensed you struggling to open up to him. But now, as you reciprocated the gesture, it warmed his heart, easing him into confessing about the dilemma he was having.

“I… there is something I feel like I need to do but I’m too scared,” he confessed, carefully avoiding any details that might reveal his intentions regarding you, “My dad thinks I should just do it and trust my instincts.”

“Well, what is it? Like hunting underwater or something?” you frowned, slightly confused at his words.

“No, not like that. It’s more about courage…I guess,” he mumbled, already regretting saying that, “‘s hard to decide if I should do it or not.”

“I don’t understand.”

Neteyam's eyes flicked up to meet yours, then quickly looked away again.

"It's nothing, forget I said anything.”

“No, please explain,” you squeezed his hand in yours, pleading, “I want to help.”

Neteyam hesitantly reached out and took his king, twirling it between his fingers as he looked back at the board. You observed alongside him, noticing that both of you only had a few pieces left, indicating that the game was coming to a close.

“It’s kind of like chess. I like to think long before making decisions, I plan it out. But this is not a matter of logic, quite honestly… It’s like, I don’t know if I should take the risk and move my king out in the open field, or if I should hold him back and keep him protected. What if I can’t back out and I’m cornered and I lose?”

You watched curiously, as Neteyam put his king back to its usual spot. He glanced up at you again, with uncertainty written all over his face.

"It's a tough decision, you know?” he continued tentatively, “Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of the board, unable to move forward because I don't want to make a mistake. Do you ever feel that way?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” you nodded slowly, meeting his searching gaze, “But sometimes you just have to take the risk. Things don’t always work out in your favor, no matter how much you plan it.”

“But what if you lose?”

“You can’t avoid it. Sometimes you just do,” you said, your voice faltering as you recalled your recent loss of Lo'ak, “But hey, if the worst does happen, at least you will know that it's over and you won't have to go through it again. In a weird way, it's like a relief."

Neteyam nodded with a small smile, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted his king from its spot.

"I think I'm going to take that risk," he said softly, moving his king.

“Good,” you smiled encouragingly.

"I’m... I'm in love with you," Neteyam admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you felt your breath catch in your throat. Was he joking?

"I have been in love with you for a long time,” he continued, words spilling out of his mouth uncontrollably, “I always thought it was wrong because you were with Lo’ak, and I obviously never stood a chance. So I tried to push those feelings away and pretend they didn't exist. But they only grow stronger with each passing day, and I can't hold it in any longer."

You froze, your mind unable to process his words. You never even considered the possibility of Neteyam seeing you that way, he was always like a brother to you.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured, shaking your head slightly, as if trying to shake off a bad dream. “So...all this time...?”

Neteyam nodded silently, his gaze fixed on you. He could sense that the answer he dreaded for so long was beginning to form on your lips, as your consciousness slowly began to return.

“Neteyam, I-I… I don’t know what to say.”

His heart sank at your words, and he looked away, struggling to keep his composure. He had expected this outcome, but it still hurt like a knife in his chest. You didn’t want to hurt him but nothing worthy came to your mind to comfort him, except for an apology. You weren’t even sure why you were apologizing to him, but it felt like a primal urge.

“I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay,” he spoke softly, as if you were the one who needed comfort, “I understand, you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I just… I had no idea…” you stammered, “I value our friendship so much. Neteyam, you have been my rock, you know that.”

He nodded with a forced smile, his heart sinking deeper and deeper in his chest. It was slowly and painfully killing him that you weren’t harsh with him, almost like the pity you took on him stung worse than the actual rejection.

"I hope I didn't lead you on.”

“’s not your fault,” he shook his head, “If you want, things don’t have to change between us. I’ll always be there for you regardless, I just needed to get it off my chest.”

You nodded, both relieved and confused by his suggestion. But the words lingered in the air between you two, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. Deep down, something started to shift within you. All this time. Neteyam was no longer just a friend or Lo’ak’s brother. He was someone who had feelings for you, and that changed everything.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

And despite the promise you made to each other to maintain your friendship, it was difficult to keep it intact. Days passed, and the aftertaste of his confession wouldn't go away, hanging in the silence that had often replaced your usual easy banter. Every interaction felt weighed down by an unspoken tension, every walk you took together, every lesson where you paired up was now filled with underlying discomfort. Neteyam tried his best to ignore the pain consuming all of his being, though he was taunted by your mere presence. But he made a promise to be there for you, and he was determined to keep it.

You were flustered too. Small touches and looks seemed to hold a different meaning now, making you question the way you behaved around each other. Was it an accident how his hand lingered on the small of your back or the nervous swish of his tail when you approached him. Were you leading him on? Forcing to spend time with you only because you needed him for emotional support.

The thoughts in your head started to outgrow you at times, when you lost sleep recalling Neteyam’s words. He was always like that, his strong and persistent nature showing through everything he did and said. But he was also humble, never getting too cocky and not afraid to ask for help when he needed it. You grew up seeing how Neteyam always put others above him, even though it could hurt him at times. And you felt selfish for taking advantage of that and holding onto his friendship when he desired something more. What if the roles were reversed, and it was you who had confessed your feelings only to be rejected? Would you be able to handle it with the same level of composure that Neteyam had shown? Probably not. You couldn’t do that for Lo’ak.

Your room was filled with the gentle clinking of beads, a soft glow of the last rays of sunset casting a golden hue over the man next to you. Your own hands were holding a string with beads, pretending to work, but it was only a show. Neteyam, who sat in front of you, had been lost in his work, brow furrowed in frustration as the thin thread kept slipping from his fingers. The beads glimmered under the sun, as he added another one, determined to finish the bracelet he promised to give to Tuk before the eclipse. Your eyes darted between his fingers that were deftly working the thread under his skilled touch, and his face, illuminated under the light. His jaw tightened, as he struggled to work with a smaller bead, and you couldn’t help but trace the sharp line with your eyes.

Of course you had known that Neteyam was a beautiful person, it wasn’t like you had a sudden revelation at how attractive he was. Back home, he was winning hearts left and right due to not only his looks, which he took after his mother, but also for possessing the inborn strength of a leader and generally having a great personality. You just never paid attention to him like this before, always considering him to be your friend, a family. But as you stole another glance at him and he caught it with a shy smile, your stomach twisted in a swirl of emotions.

“I think I need to get my eyes checked by Tsahik,” he said with a nervous chuckle, pointing at the bead that had been irritating him for the past minute or so, “I can’t thread this to save my life.”

“Maybe it’s just a tricky one,” you forced a chuckle too to cover up the awkward aftermath of being caught staring at him, “Here, let me help.”

He gratefully accepted your offer, trying not to read too much into the way your hands touched when he passed you the bead. Not that you weren’t nervous under his observing gaze, but you were at least less flustered than he was. So, with a bit of effort, you pushed away all of the thoughts and steadied your hand, managing to lace the thread through the small.

“There you go,” you mumbled, passing the bracelet back to him.

“Thank you,” he nodded with that same shy smile, then pointed at the one you made, laying in your lap, “Do you need help with yours?”

“No, it is done,” you held up your handiwork to him with a grin.

Despite your distraction, you somehow managed to finish your necklace earlier than Neteyam. But considering the size of his fingers and the beads, it wasn’t really a surprise that he was slower than you when it came to crafts. The necklace swayed around in your hand, as Neteyam observed it with attention, trying to understand to whom it was meant to belong. Did you make it for yourself? He hoped you did, as he wouldn’t be able to bear it if you gave it to another man. The colors you used were so familiar though, and Neteyam shook his head to force the thoughts out of his mind; there was no way that you would match the necklace to the beads in his braids. No way, he convinced himself. You watched his face in anticipation, stiffening slightly at the lack of response.

“Well, do you like it?” you scrunched up your nose, feeling a little embarrassed to ask him that. If he liked it enough he would have said so.

“I do, it’s beautiful,” he cleared his throat, eyes snapping back at you, “Is it for anyone in particular or just yourself?”

“Um… I don’t really know, I guess I just made it?" you shrugged, "But if you like it, I can give it to you.”

A contented hum escaped from Neteyam's lips as he admired the necklace, a small glimmer of hope flickering in his heart. The longer he gazed at the brownish and green beads, the more he realized how perfectly it would complement his hair.

As you caught sight of his thoughts, your heart skipped a beat. Had you been so preoccupied with Neteyam that you unconsciously incorporated a piece of him into your creation? The idea of giving it to him warmed your heart, but the thought of others seeing him wear something you made crossed your mind right after. What if they thought it was strange or inappropriate, a necklace crafted by you to match Neteyam's hair?

Just the idea of others assuming anything past friendship between you and Neteyam was scary. You would look pathetic, maybe even revengeful, if you went for the brother of the man who broke your heart. And what would Lo’ak think? Probably that you were only unable to move on from him and hang onto things you could have, like his family. You shook your head in irritation at that. Why should you even care about Lo’ak’s feelings, when he broke off things with you? Frankly, it was silly to even think about it because the possibility of you and Neteyam being together was nonexistent. Or at least, you thought so.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam laid on his mat, staring up at the thatched ceiling of his pod. It was already late, close to the afternoon, and he knew that his family had gone out to begin their chores, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His mind was consumed with thoughts of you instead, the change in your demeanor when he was around. You were nicer to him, more than you usually showed, and he couldn’t figure out if it was because you pitied him or because you were starting to see something else in him. Maybe he was reading into it too much and it was stupid. Really. After all, you had already rejected him once before. He would know if you changed your mind, right?

It took Lo’ak to clear his throat twice to get his brother’s attention. Startled, Neteyam finally looked up to meet his concerned gaze. It was strange to see Neteyam in the bed still, and Lo’ak made a guess that he was feeling ill.

“Are you okay, bro?”

“Yeah…” Neteyam sighed.

Lo’ak hesitated for a moment before walking closer and sitting down on the verge of his mat.

“Do you want to talk or something?”

Neteyam sighed again and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He knew that he would have to tell Lo’ak eventually, and there was no point in beating around the bush. Still, the fear of putting a crack in their relationship made him reluctant to share.

“I just want to be honest with you,” he started, noticing a slight curiosity in Lo’ak’s gaze, “Um… it’s about Y/N.”

“What about her?” Lo’ak physically felt his heart skip a beat, his mind already flooded with endless concerns: were you hurt? Did something happen to you?

“I am… in love with her. Have been for some time now… long before we even moved here,” Neteyam admitted with a shaky voice.

He was embarrassed, so much that his ears were burning up like he was on fire. How could he have fallen for his brother's destined mate, his best friend? Out of all people in the world, it had to be you. Eywa worked in mysterious ways sometimes.

Lo’ak’s face fell as the words sank in. The room was silent, as both brothers struggled to find a way to recover from this revelation. The thought of you being with Neteyam made Lo'ak sick to his stomach. His brother. The one who always stood by your side, even when you were with Lo’ak.

“I don’t even know how to react,” Lo’ak admitted, “D-does she know?”

Neteyam nodded silently, watching Lo’ak’s expression change. There was a mixture of emotions rushing to Lo’ak’s head, from guilt to jealousy to confusion. How could Neteyam have fallen for his former mate, take away the only thing that was reserved for Lo’ak only? The lump in his throat grew bigger, suffocating him from within.

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam's voice was stern, forcing him back into the conversation, “I didn’t mean to, you out of all people should know that. I would never intentionally do something to upset you.”

It was unfair to be mad at Neteyam. To be mad at you for moving on. Lo’ak took a moment to recompose himself, knowing well he had no right to be upset with either of you. You deserved someone who could give you everything, and Neteyam was just that - perfect. He could give you his whole life, whole heart served on a platter. But then, why did it sting so badly to picture you together?

“Okay, I understand,” Lo’ak finally spoke, the apple in his throat bobbing, “I have no claim over Y/N. She is a free woman now, so she can do whatever she wishes to do… I mean, as long as you make her happy -”

“No, Lo’ak, she rejected me,” Neteyam interrupted, feeling the sudden urge to stop assumptions from escalating, “She said she only saw me as a friend. I just wanted to let you know about how I felt.”

“Oh,” Lo’ak let out. He failed to deliver a humorous joke to ease the tension, “For once in my life, you want something that I have… rather, used to have.”

Neteyam’s expression softened, and he forced a breath out in an attempt to chuckle at that.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The joy of the Tulkun returning sent the whole village into a long night of celebration; the clan members dressed up in their traditional garb, air was filled with rhythmic tunes, and the smell of mouth-watering food. You had never felt more uneasy to be at a celebration, suddenly regretting that you had made no other friends since your arrival to Awa’atlu. And you stood there awkwardly, looking around, when Neteyam had insisted on sitting with him and his family.

But Lo’ak was there, forced by his father to stay close. When he saw you being led by Neteyam’s hand, he felt something bubble in his chest. His family perked at the sight of you, greeting you with their usual smiles, and you shoot Lo’ak a shy look.

“Hey,” he mumbled awkwardly, so low, that his voice was barely registered by his family.

You mouthed it back with a softened gaze, and Lo’ak couldn’t help but smile. It was awkward but it didn’t hang heavily as it usually did when you and he were in a close proximity. Lo’ak felt a slight relief at the fact that you even acknowledged him, though he was convinced a part of it was because of his family being right there. Still, he decided to take it as a win.

Neteyam's tail swished with contentment as he sat close to you, occasionally grazing your back for comfort. You couldn't tell if it was intentional, but with Neteyam, it was hard to gauge how much thought he put into things. Regardless, you felt giddy by his touch.

The conversation between his family slowly started to flow, and you found yourself chuckling at their jokes, feeling as if you belonged again. And when Lo’ak attempted to add to a story about his father's first ride on tsurak, you couldn't help but snort in amusement. He shot you a grateful look for that. Of course, you’d laugh at Lo’ak’s jokes, you had been laughing at them your whole life. You guess, some things never change.

As the night wore on, you were pulled out of the conversation at a distinct melody that filled the space. You took notice of how couples began to shift in their seats, rising to their feet to join the dance. Lo'ak stood up too, clearing his throat awkwardly before he made a way to where the Olo'eyktan and his family sat. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut when you saw Tonowari nod approvingly, and Tsireya rushing to take Lo’ak’s hand and pull him into the dance. You did not miss the way the air left your lungs, as people suddenly started watching you, as if waiting for a reaction. You scooched closer to Neteyam, hanging your head, to hide yourself with your hair.

“You okay?” he asked, staring back angrily at those who looked at you. He stiffened at the thought of you having to go through something like that.

“No, actually,” you chuckled nervously, looking up at him, “It’s like everyone expects me to throw a fit or something.”

Neteyam scrunched up his face at the comment. He looked around one more time before opening up his palm to you.

“Would you like to dance with me? Maybe that will shut them up," he said.

You felt his mother’s eyes on you, as you pondered on the offer. You really weren’t in the mood to dance now, and besides, everyone out there was coupled up.

“I’m not sure it is a good idea,” you mumbled.

Neytiri stood to her feet, pulling Jake with her. She shot you an encouraging smile.

“Come, Y/N, let’s go dance,” she gestured for you to stand up too.

“Yeah, come on girls, you too. Tuk, Kiri,” Jake pitched with a grin, “Sully’s stick together.”

You watched with a smile as the whole family decided to join in on the dancing despite the melody being intended to be just romantic. Neteyam stood too, pulling you by the hand, and really, you had no other option but to give in. His gaze softened, sending your heart into a race, and you followed shyly after him to join the other dancing Na'vi.

As you watched Tsireya and Lo’ak together, memories of your own time with him invaded your mind, but strangely you weren't upset by that, just nostalgic. Neteyam didn't let you dwell on these thoughts for long, as he gently pressed his hands against your waist and led you through the dance. When you looked into his kind eyes, it felt like all of the pain from before had dissipated into thin air. You danced for what felt like hours, surrounded by his family's laughter, and lost in the rhythm. Finally, it felt like things were back to normal, and you could relax, until the night was ruined.

You were taking a break from the dancing, watching the Sully kids goofing around with a fond smile. You had missed seeing them this happy. While back home it was a usual sight, in Awa’atlu, they were rarely this carefree. Ao’nung, in his eagerness to entertain himself, slipped in to stand next to you with a wicked smirk on his lips. It didn’t take him long to reveal his intention of approaching you, as he made a comment vile enough to send shivers down your spine. You wanted to punch him, crawl his eyes out, but all you managed was to scurry away.

Ao’nung’s sweet moment of satisfaction was interrupted abruptly by an aggressive shove. He stumbled backward, eyes widening at the sight of Neteyam.

“What the hell?”

“What did you say to Y/N?” Neteyam exposed his canines, ignoring the looks they were now getting.

“Woah,” Ao’nung smirked knowingly, “Nothing but the truth -”

“Tell me what you told her,” Neteyam shoved him again, this time harder, “Now.”

“Fine, you wanna know?” Ao’nung sneered, “I pointed out how pathetic she is, truly unworthy to live amongst my clan. It’s honestly embarrassing that she couldn’t keep one brother, so she’s now feeding into the pity of the other, in hopes to lock him up.”

“From now on,keep your mouth shut and stay away from Y/N,” Neteyam warned, taking a step closer, his voice dripping with venom, “Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam's heart felt heavy as he caught sight of you. You were in the exact same spot where he found you on that fateful night when Lo'ak shattered your heart into a million pieces. It was all too familiar - the darkness, the quiet sobs that filled the air. His mind flashed back to that night, the memory still fresh in his mind.

As he approached you, Neteyam couldn't help but notice the gentle glow of dozens of atokirinas that surrounded you, like tiny stars grazing your skin in comfort. With a long, heavy sigh, he sat down next to you, forcing you to meet his eyes with your red, puffy ones. The deep sadness started to cloud him, and Neteyam wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to shield you from the cruel words that had been spoken by Ao'nung.

"Ugh, this is pathetic," you chuckled weakly, gesturing at yourself, "How are you going to rescue me every time?"

“I’ll be there as many times as you need me to,” Neteyam replied softly,

Neteyam's heart ached as he watched you avert your gaze and fight back tears. His mind raced, struggling to think of something to say that could ease your pain, so he pulled you into an embrace instead. His hands gently rubbed your back and head, trying to offer comfort as you buried your face into his chest. And the tears came harder than before, louder.

"He told me that no one else would look at me after Lo'ak, because I was pathetic," you sniffled, your voice breaking. "And he is right. Maybe I should just listen to him and leave.”

“Ao’nung is the biggest skxawng on this whole island, don’t you ever believe a single word that comes out of his mouth,” Neteyam said firmly, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes, “I see you, Y/N. You have a big heart, you’re brave and strong-willed, and there is absolutely nothing shameful about being loyal. You hear me?”

Your chest tightened with a flutter at the proximity of Neteyam, and your heart began to race as you found yourself lost in his deep amber eyes. It was getting harder to deny the pull you have felt towards him and have been feeling for the past many weeks, since the confession.

“I just want you to be happy,” he added.

“Being with you makes me happy,” you whispered.

He gulped down nervously, scared that it was yet another thing he’d misinterpret. That you were probably referring to his friendship with you, nothing more. But his cheeks flushed regardless, feeling a soft touch of the atokirinas settling on his shoulders. And as they surrounded the two of you, like a sign from Eywa, you brushed your hand against his chest.

“Neteyam,” you said, your voice dripping like honey to his ears, “There was one thing Ao’nung was right about… I like you,” you admitted.

Your eyes darted between his widened pupils and parted lips, mind clouded with his scent and the warmth of his touch, with the spell of the atokirinas swirling around you, as if they were blessing you. You could feel the way his breath hitched, when you leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, he was afraid it would jump out. You were much more intoxicating than he had imagined, making him want to scream at the top of his lungs. His thumb rubbed gentle circles to the back of your neck, as you relaxed into him more, and fit perfectly into the curve of his body. Like you were made for him.

“I was too blind before,” you pulled away slightly, your lips curling up into a gentle smile.

Neteyam chuckled bitterly, the sound filled with disbelief and self-doubt. His hands found their way to your waist, bringing your body to his lap. He wanted to be sure that you really wanted this, that he didn’t just catch you in the heat of the moment. But his hesitance melted away, when you kissed him again.

“I see you too, Neteyam…”

He had never felt so alive, so happy, so loved.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (also tagging everyone who interacted with the teaser post): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @netemoon @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @kireysiaugustine @crustskullz @dollyplayhouse @jellybeanstacey0519 @itscheybaby @loaksky @n7ytiri @theycallmesia @love-chx @gloryavila @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

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Can I request Luke castellan dating head canons where reader is the child of hades who is pretty shy, hates confrontation, but is super artistic

Luke loves being relied upon, especially by you, and would reassure you on several occasions that he would come running should you even whisper his name in a plea for help.

He loves being of help to you and will take advantage of all the times where he got to bring a little sense of peace into your life, knowing that he had a hand in bringing you back from the edge whenever you needed him to be that voice of reason, telling you that everything will be okay.

Luke is protective over you.

Everyone in camp half blood were more then aware of how protective Luke is over you and it’s made even more evident whenever someone -ares children specifically- tried to back you into a corner and dupe you into a position where you’d have to physically fight back against them in order for them to leave you alone.

Luke knew that most of camp wouldn’t intervene for one of two reasons;

a) they were still very much on edge with you being a forbidden child of the big three, Hades no less, and they were terrified of the consequences of their actions should they do something.

B) no one wants to get into the crosshairs of a temperamental ares kid. It was an unspoken rule in camp to never be in the line of sights of an ares kid itching for a fight.

So Luke is the only soul brave enough to step in between you and the Ares kid and defuse the situation with a few choice words and a humiliating fast ass whooping; Needless to say Luke didn’t take too kindly to others engaging in unnecessary confrontations with you, knowing damn well it’ll be one sided on your end as you took great care to reframe from engaging in conflicts of any kind.

Luke knows he’s a well liked and respected guy at camp and will reap those benefits without a second thought for your comfort at every opportunity given to him. For whatever you wished to have, Luke would give it to you in abundance, no hesitation.

Your shyness only fuels Luke’s protective nature as he would more often then not act as your voice in situations where you didn’t feel as though you could access your own voice. Ie: asking for help, making appointments, ordering food/drink, setting up and reinforcing your boundaries when they’re being unfairly crossed, etc.

He’s your biggest supporter and will offer silent encouragement or reminders that he’s with you every step of the way by different methods meant to calm and ground you in reality with him such as;

Taking in soft hush tones in instances where you felt overwhelmed by everything.

Holding hands/tracing your palm to bring your focus onto one thing.

Slinging his arm over your shoulder to make you aware of his close proximity.

or just staying incredibly close to you so that you’d feel his presence nearby and be reminded that you weren’t alone and would never be alone knowing that he was always in your corner. No matter what; He’s loyal like that.

Anything and everything he did was to ease the stress upon your shoulders and make you focus on him rather than the thing that was causing you such internal distress. He doesn’t want you to face anything unsavoury alone and will do anything and everything to prove that with him nearby, everything was going to be okay and that you didn’t need to hurt yourself to feel or act normal in everyday circumstances.

His response to anyone who asked why he was with you, he’d always responded with;

‘They shine. Not brightly, not loudly and whilst you might not see it at first but they do indeed shine in a softer way, as though they were cast within a watercolour painting. They smile soft, laugh quietly and keep to themselves but to me, y/n couldn’t be shinning more brighter in those tender, slower moments and that’s what makes them so unique and enticing that I couldn’t stop loving them even if I tried.’

You defiantly overheard this once by pure coincidence and have never forgotten as a smile was permanently stuck on your lips for the rest of the day.

Quality time in the Hades cabin! Luke often jokes about how gothic and borderline vampiric it felt and one day you replied with;

‘It’s like living in Dracula’s expensively furnished dungeon more so than a windowless cabin meant for the children of Hades.’ Needless to say that Luke loved the moments where he could see you act like your truest self, even if it was within the confines of your cabin, but Luke was more then willing to take what he could get. He thrived off of being quite possibly being the only person in camp who got the honour is seeing you speak above a mutter and see you making dry jokes about your fellow campers.

He loved seeing the you he always knew was there for he only ever saw you for you and never the ever so feared child of Hades. He knows how much you hate the stigmatism that came with such a burden but that didn’t meant you weren’t any less proud of who you were and your god given talents.

Talking about talents, your one talent didn’t derive from your godly father and more so from copious amounts of practice and dedication to the craft of art and its multiple forms and styles.

Luke discovered this hidden talent of yours by mistake but upon seeing the level of detail you put into each art piece along with your seemingly effortless ability to execute beautiful pieces no matter what your style of choice was; which was proven especially true when he first looked upon a landscape drawing of the strawberry fields, made entirely in charcoal.

‘It’s not that great.’ You said once.

‘Not that great?! Babe!’ Luke exclaimed as he took in how you added the Satyrs and their reed pipes alongside the children of Demeter using their magic in making the strawberries grow. It was so detailed that Luke thought he was looking out of a window and out onto the very same strawberry fields. You even went as far as to capture the gleaming lake and the canoes skimming across its surface, even adding a group of Naiads weaving their wicker baskets in harmony. Hell you even managed to draw in the Big House for fucks sake!

‘This is fantastic! You’re so talented sweetheart!’ Luke praised as he swamped you in kisses all across your face, hands and wherever else he could, causing you to smile dopey as you melted into your boyfriend’s never ending affection.

‘Do you have anymore that I can see?’ He asked, not wanting to pressure you into letting him see more of your art if you weren’t comfortable with it, but instead you beamed and left to grab several sketchbooks that were filled to the brim with your other sketches dating back before your arrival to camp, which meant Luke seeing endless amount of the sketches you had of him participating in activities.

Luke saw this and immeditly resorted to teasing you as he nudged your side. ‘I must be quite the muse if I make up half of your sketchbook. Or someone has a crush on me.’ He practically sang as you smack his arm lightly.

‘Pack it in, we’re already dating.’

‘Still I think it’s cute that I had such an effect on you because at least I can rest easy knowing that our liking towards the other was always mutual.’ Luke replied, pressing a kiss to your head as he brought you closer as you both looked over your other sketches of camp and its inhabitants.

He might ask to keep a few sketches that he could look at whenever he needed something to feel closer to you. Or to look at before going to sleep in his cabin at night.

He might try to get you to each him how to draw but whether or not he’s good at it is up for debate.

However creating art together makes for phenomenal date nights.

All in all, Luke is just proving himself to being a caring, sweet and charming boyfriend who will always be in your corner.

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic #Percy Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians

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shelbgrey · 1 year

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Not many people write for Twilight anymore! I'd love to see the Cullens(separate) with a mate that has a young child in her care. Could be her own or she adopted the child when her parents(family friends of hers with no other family) passed away. Thinking she'd be about 18 and the kid is 2 yrs old. Please and thank you!!!

Cats in the cradle(Cullen family)

Paring: mother!Reader X OC!Child, Mate!Reader X Cullens(separate)

Carlisle cullen:

You had a son named Jason from a previous relationship. His father is a good dad but the relationship between you and him didn't end well.

Carlisle first interaction with Jason was when he broke his arm on the playground and had to get a cast.

When you and carlisle do start your relationship carlisle works hard to be a good father figure and you can tell he genuinely cares for him.

Like I said before his real dad is a good dad but he's not around much which causes Jason to he closer to carlisle is some ways.

If your son is in Marching band or sports, what ever the case is carlisle will go see your son do what he dose best.

Carlisle would do anything for your kid. He wants to play baseball he'll teach him, he wants to watch a movie carlisle would build a theater room for him. Carlisle spoils him.

Carlisle protects him and you both from the supernatural world as long as he can.

Carlisle asked Jason what he thought about marrying you and Jaosn was over the moon excited. He got to be carlisle best man and everything.

Jason will call him pops or old-man.

As he gets older he'll start wanting to be around Carlisle more and even wants to go to medical school like him.

Emmett cullen:

Your the oldest Clearwater sibling and you have a five year old sister named Lily who turned five when your dad died.

She's been around Emmett since she was two and she's always loved him. At first Emmett would be scared to be around her or hurt her.

It didn't matter to her cus' she'd always follow him around when she was with you guys.

She'll always want to play games with him and help work on cars with him.

She thinks he's a giant and thinks of him as a big brother.

When Harry died all she wanted to do was be around you guys. At the funeral Emmett held her as she cried.

Emmett always knows how to make her laugh. You can't take those two anywhere 😂

Those two have millions of inside jokes

Edward cullen:

You Became a teen mom unexpectedly and the father of your daughter Phenox couldn't care less.

You we're embarrassed to tell your new boyfriend Edward about the situation, not about your daughter(you loved everything about her) but mostly the stuff leading up to your bundle of joy.

Edward didn't care and wanted to be a the father to her like Carlisle had done for him.

Sometimes he'll do the wrong thing with good ententions. Like if your daughter wants to watch a horror movie he'll let her so she's happy. The down fall is her nightmares. He'll balme himself for a couple of days and keep apologizing to you both.

She loves to when he reads to her. His voice is calming in her opinion.

He's very over protective.

Her mind makes him laugh. It's always thinking of something joyful or silly.

At some point she calls him dad and he's over the moon about it. The family has never seen him so happy.

Jasper Hale:

About two years into your relationship your aunt and uncle died unexpectedly. They left behind your three year old cousin Lucas, and thats where you and Jasper come in.

When you got the call about becoming his legal guardian you didn't hesitate. Jasper was a little nervous about, but he wasn't gonna say no.

When you first brought him home Jasper had no idea what to do, he's never been around a kid that age before. Maybe Renesmee but she was only three for about four days and he was gone all that time.

Lucas settled in with the family quickly and over time Jasper and him grew super close.

Lucas loves history so he's always wanting war stories from Jasper.

Jasper would do anything for the kid and thinks he's the only pure thing in his life.

He strives to be a better person because of Lucas.

And Jasper thinks lucas is his kid no matter if they Share the Same blood or not.

Esme Cullen:

Esme is a mother at heart so she immediately took your two year old son under her wing.

She loves Danny with all her heart and felt she finally had a family.

Danny loves helping her with anything and everything. He just wants to be around her.

Sometimes you joke Danny loves her more than you.

Danny calls her mommy and you mama.

He feels so lucky to have two amazing moms like you two.

Rosalie Hale:

You Became the Gardian of your little brother Tom after your parents lost him through CPS. Knowing how awful your parents are you immediately brought him home with you to the Cullen.

Carlisle said he could move in mean he'd be around Rose more often. Rose always wanted to be a mom so she immediately took the roll as the amazing step-mom

She always wants to babysit and take care of him. She'll get him anything that his heart wants.

She'll read to him every night and if he wants to sleep your guys bed he will.

Tom loves her and thinks of her as a amazing step mom but still sees you as his sister. When he got older you explained everything to him. After that he didn't care and still saw you guys as his care givers and loving parents.

Alice Cullen:

Can't say much about this one. You have a Son named Owen and it was totally unexpected when Alice started dating you.

She's not awful to him at all it's just she doesn't know how to interact with him.

They have small talk if it's just the two of them but other than that is not fun to be together with out you.

Over time the two got used to each other but at the same time the two bickered.

Alice truly dose love him like her own son but doesn't know how to show it. She's protective and over time it annoys Owen.

You and Alice have had fights about owen but it's never serious. Owen and Alice relized they had to learn to live together if they want to be with you so they did.

Other than that Alice and owen are cool with each other, they're just not as close as you wished they were.

#Carlisle cullen x reader #Esme cullen x reader #Emmett cullen x reader #Rosalie Hale x reader #Edward cullen x reader #Alice cullen x reader #Jasper Hale x reader #Twilight imagines #twilight headcanons #cullen family x reader #cullen family #Cullen family imagines #Cullen headcanons

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Acceptance

Sometimes, accepting that your past is yours is the hardest thing to do.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, this one's a little heavy, Hurt and comfort

Length: uuuuh 3k-ish.

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Considering he knew that you'd figure it out sooner rather than later, he's honestly a little surprised how much this is bothering him. Even years after everything happened, after all the work he's put into becoming more than just his past, it's still haunting him everywhere he goes.

Jungkook wanted to stay alone by pure choice. He doesn't want to give into some primal urges and get lost in it, to the point of morals and worth being thrown out the window. He knows that his kind- or at least, the kind his father cursed upon him with his partial genes- doesn't value emotional connections as much as other beings of the galaxy do. But still.

What that man did was unforgivable.

Jungkook doesn't remember his mother. He's sure he never met her- or maybe only as an infant, making him forget what she looked like. What he does know is that feeling of coldness he always received from his father- someone who should've raised him, or at least let the rest of the crew raise him. But that man would not let anyone care for him- Jungkook had to basically fight for his place, a place that wasn't even existing in the first place.

Nothing he could do would ever prove his worth to that man, because that man saw him as nothing but an accident. Something that should not have happened.

She was a great mother. Still is, even if Jungkook doesn't visit her much. She respects him, and his personal decisions- and that's more than he could ever ask for.

So, at the age of barely fourteen, he left the ship- with a bag of clothes and a bit of money from a crewmember, left alone on a planet near Cryon, where he met Seokjin and his mother. The young hybrid had instantly taken a liking to him, and after his mother learned of Jungkook's situation, she took him in- and willingly took on the role of a parental figure, no matter how much people looked at her oddly for her now two children that looked nothing like her.

But she cared for him.

For a long time, Jungkook had found comfort in his lifestyle. He wouldn't hurt anyone ever like he'd been hurt before, because he never attached himself to anyone or anything past friendliness. Jimin was an exception- but even he doesn't really get past his shell, never able to catch a glimpse of his heart.

And then came you.

You're nothing special. Just like his mother, you're a simple human being, cast aside with nowhere to go. And maybe that's why he wanted to shoot you so badly when he first saw you- because he took so much pity on you, that he felt like he'd be a worse person to let you live instead of giving you an end to your suffering. Humans are seen as nothing but greedy little parasites- they take and take and take and fight for nothing but their own self-worth.

And then you opened up. Every day you spent with him seemed to fuel your soul once more, charging up your will to live as you stopped trying to make him discard you at any given chance. And suddenly, he no longer saw the same victim as his mother once was in you- he saw someone. You're no longer just a being worth pity- you're you.

And he started to actually enjoy your company.

Especially after doing something like you did back with the vendor- you've proven yourself as someone that can and will decide what she wants to do. You didn't have to do this for him, and you know it, he knows that you know it. And he also knows that you didn't do it for him anyways, even if you think you did. Because you're basically defending your place in his life- on his ship.

And that's what scares him. That's what made him react like he did, yesterday.

You're not so easy to push around any longer. You're no longer someone who will just do as he says, and he wants that for you- you deserve your autonomy, you deserve to be able to make these decisions. But those things always come with a price.

And yes- maybe he's scared of you.

Because the longer you stay, the closer you get, the more it'll bug him or even hurt when you decide to move on from him. For years, Jungkook has feared hurting others- when in reality, he just got tired of being the one getting hurt. And now, with you in his life, it's already happening- because just sneaking a small glimpse at the security camera of your room shows you just quietly sitting on your bed, hugging your knees, waiting, thinking. And it hurts. He doesn't want you to be locked up like that. He wants you here, where he can see you, where you can talk, and where he can watch you knit your stupid little ball-shaped animals that you've hung everywhere at this point.

He likes them. Because they prove that you're actually here, that you're alive with him, and that you're not just wishful thinking.

His thumb runs over the little crooked horn of the goat you've knitted, that he's taken for himself now as it's attached to his keychain. He's been unkind and most of all unreasonable- but he doesn't know what to do now. You clearly want to stay, and it's also pretty obvious that you've found somewhat of an interest in him- and that terrifies him.

Because what if he does end up like him? What if he does fall into the same habits and behaviors as he did?

And how can he not, when you're already infesting his mind, without even doing anything at all?

He's forever branded as the 'accidental' son of a slave trader, a mistake that shouldn't have happened to begin with, and cost someone their life. He's no one you should associate with, let alone get involved with. You don't know who he is, what he is, and what kind of stigma he carries around. You've got no idea who you're currently traveling with, and maybe he needs to force you to face it.

Maybe if he shows you who he really is, you'll finally let him go.

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You're not too sure why you're so unable to just wait things out. He's clearly gotten upset yesterday, after you mentioned that you knew that he was partially human- but why?

There's no way he despises the entire human race- because he has been quite kind to you, even though he didn't have to be. Even his proposal of letting you stay with Seokjin instead of having to 'wait out' his whole… situation, was one of kindness. He could've just told you to stay in your room, but instead, he thought of a more comfortable alternative for you, despite the trouble of traveling and time cost.

So why did that rub him so wrongly when you mentioned it?

There's not much time to think about that however, as the door hisses open- causing you to hide under the blanket you previously had over your shoulders in a panic, the reaction almost instinctual. You can only feel the bed dip a little under his weight as he sits down on the edge of it, and when you peek out, you can see that he's not even looking at you. Instead, his hands are holding his keychain with your knitted little goat attached- fingers playing around with it in a nervous manner.

"My mother was a prostitute." He starts, voice low and without much emotion to it. "My father… enjoyed her services so much, that he bought her." He explains, and you slowly sit up, blanket falling from your head to rest on your shoulders instead. "Chances of.. pregnancy were low- considering she was human, and my father was not." Jungkook says, while you just watch him, not moving much.

"But it happened anyways."

You're watching him, staying right where you are- his back still turned towards you, while he continues to occupy himself with the little yarn toy you made. "I don't remember her. I only know that she died, at some point." He shrugs to himself. "Not like it matters. Neither of them thought of me as something other than an accident." He scoffs, and you feel the need to comfort him-

but you don't know how.

"So.. that's why you hate your human side?" You wonder, but he shakes his head.

"I don't hate it." He denies. "I just.. hate being reminded of what I am, I guess." Jungkook tries to explain. "I'm known as the son of a guy who knocked up a human prostitute. I'm a bastard who never lived up to his father's expectations." He growls mostly. "I'm nothing but a joke to most people who know my father. And you'll be nothing but a joke either, if you continue to travel with me." He turns towards you, looking over his shoulder at your knees- unable to quite face you fully.

"You're Jungkook." You say, and he freezes- before he slowly let's his eyes travel upwards to your face, eyes swirling colors, emotions unsure.

"..what?" He breathes out, genuinely unsure. He knows who he is. What the hell do you mean by that?

"You're Jungkook." You repeat, shrugging. "You're a shipcaptain. A vendor. Traveler." You start to count, and his irises start to change- slowly seemingly settling into a soft, warm hazel- timid, but appreciative almost.

Looking up the meanings of colors in your free time is really starting to pay off.

"You're not your father. Or your mother." You shake your head. "Neither will you be like your children, if you ever have some. I'm not like my parents either, and neither is anyone else." You explain. "We're all just in control of ourselves. The only life I have any control over is my own, and the only life you have control over is yours." You tell him, slowly moving a bit closer as he leans his head down to look at the floor again. "You can't change your past. You can't erase it either."

"So I'm just cursed with it." He scoffs at no one.

"Just as long as you don't accept it." You shrug next to him, your legs now dangling off the edge of the bed, bare feet swinging back and forth next to his boots which are firmly planted on the floor. "The moment you accept that that's a part of you, you can move on. Because you maybe can't change your past-" You say, bumping your shoulder into his side to lift the mood a little. "-but you can control your future."

"What's the point if no one cares about anything but that?" He argues, eyes a grim grey color. "It doesn't matter. I don't want you to be stuck with.. a label like that too." He shakes his head.

"I'm not like you though." You huff, crossing your arms, making him look at you. "I don't care."

"You don't care that people will think I'm just doing the same thing he did?" He challenges, looking at you with a fiery gaze. This is not going according to his plan. "You're telling me you don't give a shit about the fact that everyone who knows him, will see you and immediately think of you as nothing but a sex slave?" he argues, standing up to instead stand in front of you, hands pushing into the mattress right next to your thighs, face only inches from yours. "You don't get to lie to me and say that you don't care about that." He growls. "I don't accept you sitting here, trying to convince me that you won't mind being known as the human plaything of the bastard who couldn't even earn his spot in the crew of a slave trader." He growls.

"I don't mind." You answer, summoning all of your confidence not to flinch, even with his angry red gaze on you, noses almost touching.

"Why." He quietly sneers, clearly agitated. "How can you not care?!" He barks at you, and you do lean back a tiny bit at that- heart beating a bit faster from the sheer force of his emotions.

"If a tree falls down in the woods and no one's around to hear it, does it make a sound?" you ask, and it's almost comical how his eyes flash a surprised white, entire body flinching back in confusion. "It's a saying on earth." You explain. "If you don't take a picture of a sunset, was it really as pretty as you remember?" You ask, and he seems entirely caught off guard.

"I don't.. understand." He admits. You giggle.

"Me calling you a bird doesn't make you one." You explain with a smile. And that, seems to click with him, as he looks at you with what you can only describe as genuine surprise. As if he's never really.. thought about it like that.

And then, you lean forward- arms pulling him closer, as you rest your head against his shoulder, holding him for a good moment.

Something he simply lets happen, because you're right.

He is in control of his life.

"I'm scared of you." He confesses, and you're a bit surprised, letting go of him as he stands upright again, arms crossed, eyes a pinkish hue.

"huh?" You ask, unsure what he's talking about.

"I.. enjoy your company." He admits. "I want you to stay. But at the same time, I want you to stay away from me." He tells you.

"..why?" You wonder, his words not making any sense.

"Because you can hurt me." He explains. "Maybe not physically- but emotionally."

"…oh." You realize what he's talking about, and now it's you who's looking away. "I mean.. uh.. I mean you're really handsome, don't get me wrong! But-" You stammer, a little bashful now. And the worst thing is that now, he seems oddly confident again- as if that was all he needed to connect the dots that you're not the only one developing deeper interest in the other.

"Handsome, huh?" He comments, arms crossed, gaze playfully pink.

"I uh- yeah? But uhm.. I mean, you know.. we're kind of just starting to really talk, so.." You mumble, looking away now. What the hell? Since when are you this shy? And how have you not noticed him not even wearing his usual uniform jacket? Those tattoos fill up his entire arm-

"That we do." He nods, feeling oddly light now that he's.. talked about this, to anyone. "And I'd.. like to continue to talk to you." He offers, making you look up at him again.

And somehow, you can read the message he's actually trying to tell you, between the lines of those words.

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You're putting a bag on the free spot near his control station, causing him to look at you with a questioning gaze.

You've both agreed on a few rules now that you're staying during his.. well, mating season issue. One of them is to keep physical contact to a minimum, and other general rules are to leave him alone if he asks you to, or to take some time to wake up before walking into the command central- though you're not sure what that one's about. It's all stuff you can follow easily though- especially if it makes him more comfortable being around you. "what's this?" He wonders, opening the bag, finding multiple, small yarn animals inside.

"I'm being productive!" You exclaim proudly. "Maybe we could sell them at our next stop? I'm sure someone has like.. maybe a currency or two left over to pay for one of them." You propose, but much to your surprise, he seems rather conflicted over it, pulling one out to inspect. It's a mouse, black bead eyes staring at him. "You don't think so?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"No, it's not that.." He mumbles. "But.. you don't have to earn money." He tells you.

"I know. But I want to." You explain yourself. "And, the ship is already full of them. We can sell those too-" You say, reaching for a short snake hanging from a screw slightly poking out the metal casing of the control screen, when he reaches out first, snatching it almost protectively away from you first.

"No-!" He barks, looking around with a sharp, cautiously yellow gaze. "…those can stay." He clears his throat, hanging the little knitted animal back where it was, adjusting it's position so it faces him. "We're not going to land anywhere within the next few weeks anyways. We'll fuel at outposts instead." He tries to justify.

"Jungkook.. we can't hoard all of them here." You giggle, and he looks to the side at that, clearly feeling called out.

"..I'm not hoarding them. I'm just saying you don't have to.. work, or anything like that." He argues back, trying to occupy himself with the control panel.

"I know. But, with the money I get from maybe selling them, I could buy more yarn or something." You shrug, sitting on one of the nearby server boxes.

"..what's wrong with me buying it for you?" He growls a bit offended, jaw clenched. You know this is probably just his hormones making him act like that, but it's still a little funny to tease him.

"Nothing!" You laugh. "I just wanna be independent. Earn my spot." You explain.

"You don't have to earn shit." He denies, tapping away on the touch panel in front of him. "...but I guess if you want to. Don't need my permission anyways." He huffs annoyed, making you laugh as you look at him almost pout to himself, trying to appear all busy when in reality, you know that the course he's flying is a safe route the autopilot has flown numerous times before.

"Hey Jungkook?" You ask, and he looks up at that, showing you his attention has been caught. "I like you." You say, and the look on his face is quite literally the most hilarious and wholesome thing you've ever seen -

Eyes wide open, round and filled with a shy blue, before it melts into pink, seconds until he closes them, and holds a hand in front of them to shield himself.

"Timeout, you demon!" He barks out, opening the main door for you. "Get out!" He yells, though it's clear that he doesn't mean it in an evil or genuinely upset manner.

Because even though you do as he says, laughing on your way to your room, he does later check in to make sure he's not actually mad at you- though it's rather sent as a text message on the control screen in your room, instead of spoken words.

Small steps, you think to yourself. Small steps.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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rafesapologist · 2 months

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the setback ─ rafe cameron; part four

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: just good ol' drama and angst

author's note: the one where shit begins to hit the fan

You and JJ sat comfortably on the couch in the living room, the faint aroma of weed lingering in the air as you passed a blunt back and forth between you. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room as you laughed and joked with each other.

Despite the uncertainty of the future and the challenges you faced, there was a sense of ease and contentment in this moment, a feeling of belonging that washed over you both as you shared this intimate connection.

As you took another hit from the blunt, you couldn't help but marvel at the easy camaraderie you shared with JJ. He had always been there for you, a constant source of support and comfort amidst the chaos of your lives as Pogues.

"Man, I can't believe we pulled that off," JJ said, a grin spreading across his face as he passed you the blunt. "That was some wild shit back there."

You chuckled, taking a hit before passing the blunt back to JJ. "Yeah, but it was worth it," you replied, a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. "We make a pretty good team, don't you think?"

JJ nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned back against the couch. "Damn right we do," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "No one messes with the Pogues."

As the two of you laughed and joked, the sound of your laughter echoing through the house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the friendship you shared with JJ. In a world filled with uncertainty and turmoil, he was a constant source of light and laughter, a reminder that no matter what life threw your way, you would always have each other's backs.

The laughter between you and JJ halted abruptly as John B burst through the front door, his voice raised in agitation as Sarah followed closely behind, her expression a mix of concern and apprehension. You exchanged a bewildered glance with JJ, both of you sitting up straight, suddenly alert to the tension in the room.

"John B, calm down," Sarah urged, her voice tinged with worry as she tried to placate him. "We can't just go charging in there. It's too dangerous."

But John B's eyes blazed with determination as he ignored Sarah's protests, his focus unwavering as he paced back and forth in the living room. "I don't care, Sarah," he insisted, his voice laced with frustration and anger. "Ward's gotta pay for what he's done. I'll do whatever it takes to get him back."

You and JJ exchanged a puzzled glance, the confusion evident in both your expressions as John B's words hung heavy in the air. JJ rose from the couch, his brow furrowed with concern as he approached John B.

"What's going on, man?" JJ asked, his voice tinged with urgency as he tried to make sense of the situation. "Why are you so worked up?"

John B paused in his pacing, his gaze flickering between you, JJ, and Sarah before he finally spoke, his voice strained with emotion. "It's Ward," he explained, his tone heavy with bitterness. "He's behind everything that's been happening to us. To my dad, to the gold… We have to do something about it."

You and JJ exchanged a knowing glance, the pieces of the puzzle slowly starting to fall into place. Ward Cameron had been a thorn in your side for far too long, and it seemed that John B had finally had enough.

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, your voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside you.

John B's jaw clenched as he met your gaze, his determination shining through despite the shadow of doubt that lingered in his eyes. "We're gonna take him down," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "Once and for all."

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed John B's words, the realization sinking in like a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. You stood up alongside JJ, crossing your arms over your chest as you struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

"How are we gonna do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief. "We're in Barbados, John B. It's impossible to just get to Ward like that."

John B met your gaze, his expression resolute despite the uncertainty that lingered in the air. "We're going back to the Outer Banks," he declared, his voice unwavering as he outlined his plan. "We'll find a way to get to him, no matter what it takes."

Your breath caught in your throat at John B's words, the reality of the situation hitting you like a tidal wave. Going back to the Outer Banks meant facing a host of dangers and challenges, from the law to Ward's own dangerous machinations. But deep down, you knew that you couldn't let John B face this alone.

As the weight of John B's plan settled over you, you felt a surge of determination rising within you. You may have been thousands of miles away from home, but the call of duty beckoned, and you were ready to answer it, no matter the cost.

You stood frozen in place, your mouth hanging open in shock as you processed the enormity of what lay ahead. But amidst the uncertainty and fear, a flicker of hope burned bright within you, a reminder that no matter how daunting the journey may be, you would face it together with your friends by your side.

A pang of discomfort shot through you at the thought of returning home after two long years away. The memories that awaited you in the Outer Banks were a tangled web of joy and pain, laughter and tears, and you weren't sure you were ready to confront them.

You winced inwardly, the thought of facing the people from your past weighing heavily on your mind. There were friendships that had soured, relationships that had fractured, and wounds that had yet to heal. The prospect of seeing those familiar faces again filled you with a sense of dread, stirring up emotions you had long tried to bury.

In particular, there was one person whose presence haunted your thoughts, whose absence had left a gaping hole in your heart. The mere idea of seeing them again sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.

But despite your reservations, you knew that you couldn't let fear dictate your actions. The mission to take down Ward Cameron was too important, and you couldn't afford to let your personal demons stand in the way of justice.

You spoke up, the unease evident in your voice as you rubbed the sides of your arms in discomfort. "I don't know about this, John B," you admitted, your words tinged with uncertainty. "Going back home... it's a lot to handle, especially with everything that's happened."

John B turned to face you, his expression sympathetic as he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I know it's not going to be easy," he said softly, his tone filled with understanding. "But we can't let Ward get away with what he's done. We have to stand up to him, no matter the cost."

You nodded slowly, the weight of John B's words sinking in. He was right; you couldn't let fear hold you back from doing what was right. But the thought of returning to the Outer Banks, to the ghosts of your past, filled you with a sense of trepidation.

You nodded your head, a sense of determination settling over you as you stood up a bit straighter. "I'm in," you declared, your voice steady despite the lingering doubts that lingered in your mind.

As you made your decision, you could feel JJ's hand gently on the small of your back, his touch a silent gesture of comfort and support. The warmth of his presence reassured you, reminding you that you weren't alone in this.

John B's face broke into a relieved smile as he clapped you on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear," he said, a hint of gratitude in his tone. "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

JJ's voice cut through the tension, his tone serious as he addressed John B. "When do you plan on leaving?" he asked, his gaze locked on John B's.

John B's expression grew somber as he considered JJ's question. "Tomorrow," he replied, his voice steady with determination. "We can't waste any time. The longer we wait, the more time Ward has to cover his tracks."

You couldn't help but scoff a bit, your confusion evident as you processed John B's plan. "But John B, it's already been two years," you pointed out, your tone tinged with incredulity. "What difference is one more day going to make?"

John B's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I know it seems like a long time," he acknowledged, his voice calm but resolute. "But we need to be prepared. We can't afford to rush into this without a plan."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, seeking clarity from John B. "But why now?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Why after all this time?"

John B's response was straightforward, his eyes reflecting a newfound resolve as he spoke. "I'm finally ready to confront Ward," he said, his voice steady with determination.

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them settling over you as you processed the significance of John B's decision. After years of running and hiding, it seemed that John B had reached a turning point, a moment of reckoning where he was prepared to face his greatest adversary head-on.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for John B's bravery, knowing that the road ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty. But despite the risks, you stood by his side, ready to support him in whatever way you could.

As you looked into John B's eyes, you saw a flicker of uncertainty mingled with determination, a reflection of the turmoil that raged within him. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there was a sense of clarity, a conviction that burned bright within him as he prepared to confront the demons of his past.

With a silent nod of understanding, you resolved to stand by John B's side as he embarked on this dangerous journey. Tomorrow may have seemed like just another day, but for John B, it was the beginning of a new chapter—one that would test his courage, his resilience, and his unwavering determination to seek justice in the face of adversity. And as you prepared yourself for the challenges that lay ahead, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stirring within you, a belief that no matter what obstacles you faced, you would emerge stronger on the other side.

You cast a concerned glance towards Sarah, noticing the quiet and disconnected demeanor she seemed to be displaying. Sensing her unease, you moved closer to her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Sarah, are you ready for this?" you asked softly, your voice filled with genuine concern.

Sarah's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her expression a mixture of apprehension and determination. "I… I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't let John B face this alone."

You nodded in understanding, offering her a reassuring smile. "You don't have to," you assured her. "We're all in this together, Sarah. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Sarah's eyes softened at your words, a hint of gratitude shining through as she squeezed your hand in silent appreciation.

Sarah's whisper was barely audible, her voice filled with uncertainty as she leaned in closer to you, trying to avoid John B and JJ catching wind of your conversation.

"What if we see Rafe?" she whispered, her words tinged with apprehension.

Your breath hitched at Sarah's question, a wave of mixed emotions washing over you as you struggled to find the right words. Your eyes instinctively panned down to your hands, fingers fidgeting nervously as you wrestled with your thoughts.

After a moment of contemplation, you looked back up at Sarah, your expression somber. "Honestly, I don't know," you confessed quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "But… I know I don't give a shit about him."

The words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them settling over you as you spoke. Despite the lingering memories and unresolved feelings, you knew deep down that you had moved on from Rafe. The wounds he had inflicted may still sting, but they no longer held power over you.

Sarah nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with sympathy as she reached out to squeeze your hand in silent support. With a shared understanding between you, you both knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united in your determination to see this through to the end.

Feeling the need to address the elephant in the room, you cleared your throat before speaking up to the group as a whole. "So, what about Kiara and Pope?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity.

Before anyone could respond, John B interjected, his tone slightly awkward as he replied, "They already know. But… they're off… talking."

The vague response left you feeling somewhat unsettled, but you didn't press further. It seemed there were conversations happening behind closed doors that you weren't privy to, and for now, you respected their privacy.

JJ's cough broke the awkward silence that followed John B's vague response. "We'll be ready to head out tomorrow," he said, his voice firm with determination.

John B's expression softened with gratitude as he looked over at JJ, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, his gaze shifted to you, and you met his eyes, nodding in agreement.

With the plan set in motion, you felt a renewed sense of purpose wash over you. Tomorrow was the day you would embark on this dangerous journey back to the Outer Banks, and you were determined to face whatever challenges came your way with courage and resilience. As the tension in the room eased slightly, you exchanged reassuring glances with JJ, silently reaffirming your commitment to each other and to the mission ahead.

Feeling the weight of the upcoming journey pressing down on you, you shuffled down the hall to your room, the news swirling in your mind. Each step felt heavy, burdened by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As you reached your door and turned the handle, you let out a long sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you stepped inside. The room felt strangely quiet and empty, the only sound being the faint hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

Just as you were about to collapse onto your bed and try to process everything that had happened, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. JJ's voice called out softly, stopping you in your tracks.

Turning around, you found JJ standing in the doorway, his expression filled with concern. "Hey," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you okay?"

You offered him a weak smile, appreciating the concern in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the uncertainty in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

JJ stepped closer, closing the distance between you as he reached out to gently place a hand on your arm. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Meeting JJ's gaze, you couldn't help but feel a pang of vulnerability as you opened up to him. "I don't know if I'm ready to face the Outer Banks again," you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. "But... I know I have to do it for John B."

His expression softened with understanding, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes, almost as though he was examining your thoughts from the outside in. Sensing his silent question, you braced yourself for what was to come.

JJ's expression softened with empathy as he listened to your confession. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met his, his gaze filled with concern. "Is it because of Rafe?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with understanding.

His question caught you off guard, but you found solace in the sincerity of his inquiry. It was as though he could see straight through the walls you had built around your heart, offering you a safe space to confront your feelings.

You nodded slowly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally voiced the thoughts that had been weighing heavily on your mind. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... complicated."

You continued, your voice trembling slightly with emotion as you poured out your thoughts to JJ. "It's not because I care about him," you explained, your words coming out in a rush. "It's just... all the pain he's caused, and I don't know if I could handle the anger I'd feel if I saw him again."

JJ's nod was filled with determination as he assured you, "I won't let Rafe get to you like that."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as JJ wrapped you in his embrace, pulling you close against his chest. In his arms, you felt a sense of security and comfort, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders.

Nestled against JJ's chest, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. His steady heartbeat served as a comforting rhythm. With a contented sigh, you melted into JJ's embrace, savoring the simple yet profound connection you shared.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

At the Island Club, Rafe sat at the bar, a half-empty glass of whiskey in front of him. His speech was slurred, and his movements were unsteady as he engaged in a mindless conversation with the man seated next to him. The atmosphere around him was lively, with the sounds of laughter and music filling the air, but Rafe seemed lost in his own world.

He laughed loudly at something the man said, his expression animated as he gestured wildly with his hands. But despite his outward appearance of joviality, there was a sadness in Rafe's eyes, a heaviness that seemed to weigh him down.

As Rafe continued ordering drinks, his attention fractured by the haze of alcohol, he failed to notice Kelce's approach until he felt a familiar presence beside him. Looking up, he saw Kelce standing there, a curious expression on his face.

"Hey, Rafe," Kelce greeted, his tone laced with concern. "What're you up to, man?"

Rafe blinked slowly, trying to focus on Kelce's words through the fog of his drunkenness. He managed a crooked smile, lifting his glass in a half-hearted salute. "Just… you know, having a good time," he replied vaguely, his words slurring slightly.

Kelce's eyebrows furrowed, his concern deepening as he took in Rafe's disheveled appearance. "You sure about that?" he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. "You seem a bit… out of it."

Rafe waved off Kelce's concern with a dismissive gesture, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance. "Nah, I'm fine," he insisted, though the words rang hollow even to his own ears.

But Kelce wasn't convinced, his gaze lingering on Rafe with a mixture of worry and suspicion. "If you say so, man," he said finally, though there was a note of doubt in his voice. "Just… take it easy, okay?"

Rafe shrugged in response to Kelce's question, his movements sluggish and lethargic. He lifted his glass to his lips, taking another gulp of his drink before setting it back down with a heavy thud.

Kelce persisted, undeterred by Rafe's lack of enthusiasm. "So, have you talked to Sofia yet?" he pressed, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Rafe let out a groan, his expression clouding over with irritation. "Not yet," he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Honestly, I'm not really in the mood to deal with her drama right now." His words were laced with bitterness, a reflection of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Despite his attempts to push aside the lingering thoughts of Sofia, the weight of their unresolved issues continued to weigh heavily on his mind.

Kelce's expression softened slightly, a hint of sympathy flickering in his eyes as he observed Rafe's demeanor. He could sense the underlying turmoil that Rafe was grappling with, even if his friend was trying to mask it with careless behavior.

"Alright, man," Kelce said, his tone gentle as he chose to brush off Rafe's dismissive attitude. "Just take your time. You'll sort things out when you're ready."

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of relationships and the struggles that came with navigating them. Kelce knew better than to push Rafe further, recognizing that sometimes it was best to give space to those dealing with their own internal battles.

Kelce quickly changed the topic, as if sensing Rafe's need to divert his attention from his own troubles. "Hey, have you seen Topper today?" he asked, his tone casual as he shifted gears.

Rafe furrowed his brow, caught off guard by the sudden change in conversation. He shook his head in response. "No, not today," he replied, his confusion evident in his voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, man, I was supposed to meet up with Topper today," Kelce began, his tone tinged with frustration. "But he hasn't been answering any of my texts or calls."

Rafe's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Kelce's revelation. "Really?" he responded, concern seeping into his voice. "That's strange. Topper's usually pretty reliable about that kind of stuff."

Rafe chuckled lightly, attempting to inject a bit of humor into the situation. "Ah, probably some girl drama then," he remarked lightheartedly, though a pang of concern lingered beneath his jest.

However, Kelce's response sobered the mood. "Nah, man," he said with a shake of his head. "Topper hasn't even looked at another girl since Sarah left."

Rafe's expression grew serious as he mulled over Kelce's words, a flicker of realization crossing his features. Sarah's departure had been a blow to Topper, and the timing seemed too close to be a mere coincidence. His mind pieced together the puzzle, connecting the dots between Sarah's absence and your own departure not long after.

When the realization hit him, it was like a ton of bricks. You and JJ, together. The thought was like a dagger to his heart, stirring up a storm of conflicting emotions within him. Anger, betrayal, and a profound sense of loss mingled with the bitterness of hindsight.

He had seen the signs, the way you and JJ looked at each other, the subtle touches and shared glances. But he had chosen to ignore them, to bury his head in the sand and pretend that everything was fine. Now, faced with the truth, he couldn't deny the painful reality staring him in the face. The revelation left him reeling, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the injustice of it all. But deep down, he knew that there was no one to blame but himself.

After all, you were a dirty pogue just like the rest.

Rafe's scoff was filled with bitterness as he rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Figures," he muttered under his breath, a trace of venom in his tone. "Sarah just had to run off with those scum fucking Pogues." His words dripped with disdain, the resentment he harbored towards the Pogues evident in his voice. To Rafe, they were nothing but troublemakers, a thorn in his side that had caused nothing but chaos and turmoil.

Kelce's laughter was tinged with irony as he shook his head, as if seeing right through Rafe's attempt to deflect his own feelings. "Yeah, well, wasn't your girl one of them?" he retorted, his tone dry and cutting. His words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the interconnectedness of their lives and the tangled web of relationships that bound them together. Rafe's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of guilt flashing across his features before he quickly masked it with a facade of indifference.

"Yeah, well," Rafe muttered, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "That's different."

But even as he spoke the words, Rafe couldn't shake the nagging feeling of hypocrisy that gnawed at him from within. Deep down, he knew that Kelce was right, and that the lines between friend and foe were more blurred than he cared to admit.

Kelce shrugged nonchalantly, his expression betraying a sense of resignation. "Whatever you say, man," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm. He knew Rafe was a hypocrite, but he also knew better than to press the issue further. There was a weariness in Kelce's demeanor, as if he had grown tired of trying to reason with Rafe or make him see the error of his ways. He had learned to pick his battles, and this was one that he knew wasn't worth fighting.

Topper's abrupt entrance drew immediate attention as he stormed into the establishment, his presence commanding the room. Rafe and Kelce exchanged bewildered glances, their confusion mirrored in their expressions as they watched him make a beeline for the bar.

"Topper?" Rafe called out, his voice tinged with surprise as he pushed himself away from the counter to greet his friend. "What's going on, man?"

But Topper's demeanor betrayed no sign of the usual laid-back charm that he often exuded. Instead, his face was etched with a mixture of frustration and anger, his jaw clenched tight as he approached the bar with purpose.

Rafe and Kelce exchanged another glance, their curiosity piqued by Topper's sudden appearance and the intensity of his expression. Something was clearly bothering him, and Rafe couldn't help but wonder what had brought Topper to this point of agitation.

"Sarah texted me, man. She's back."

"What the fuck do you mean she's back?" Rafe repeated, his tone sharp as he turned to face Topper. There was a flicker of something in his eyes - a mixture of fear, anger, and uncertainty - as he awaited an explanation.

Topper met Rafe's gaze with a solemn expression, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on him. "She texted me," he explained, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. "Said she's back in town." The words hung in the air, a heavy silence settling over the group as they grappled with the implications of Sarah's return. For Rafe, it felt as though the past had come crashing back into his life with a vengeance, dredging up memories and emotions he had long tried to bury.

Rafe's voice was tense as he asked the question, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is she alone?" he inquired, the words laced with a sense of urgency as he braced himself for the answer.

Topper hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting as he considered his response. "I… I'm not sure," he admitted reluctantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "She didn't say."

The uncertainty only served to heighten Rafe's unease, his mind racing with possibilities as he tried to piece together the puzzle of Sarah's return. Was she alone, or had she come back with someone else? The thought sent a chill down his spine, and he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled over him like a dark cloud.

Rafe's chest tightened with a mixture of anxiety and frustration as he grappled with the implications of Sarah's sudden reappearance. The tension inside him simmered, threatening to boil over as he struggled to come to terms with the reality of the situation.

He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a heavy burden. Sarah's return had caught him off guard, leaving him feeling unprepared and vulnerable in its wake. He hadn't expected her to come back, and now that she had, he was at a loss for how to proceed.

His nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart and clear his mind. But the turmoil within him raged on, a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume him whole. In that moment, Rafe knew that he would have to confront Sarah and whatever she brought with her head-on. Whether he was ready or not, the past had come knocking, and he couldn't afford to ignore it any longer.

"FUCK!" Rafe's voice echoed through the bar, his frustration boiling over as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The expletive tore from his throat like a primal scream, a raw expression of his turmoil and uncertainty.

His outburst drew the attention of those around him, heads turning to see what had prompted such a visceral reaction from the normally composed young man. But Rafe paid them no mind, lost in the whirlwind of his own thoughts and emotions.

With a clenched jaw and fists still balled at his sides, Rafe took a moment to gather himself, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. The weight of Sarah's return bore down on him like a leaden anchor, threatening to drag him under with its sheer force.

"Rafe man, c'mon, I'm sure she's bluffing," Kelce attempted to calm down Rafe's growing temper, but to no avail.

"Bluffing?" Rafe repeated, his voice hoarse with emotion as he turned to face Kelce. The desperation in his eyes was evident as he searched for reassurance in his friend's words.

Kelce nodded earnestly, his expression filled with genuine concern. "Yeah, man, you know how Sarah can be. Maybe she's just trying to mess with us," he suggested, his tone soothing as he tried to diffuse the tension.

"No," Rafe interjected, his tone laced with a sense of certainty. "Sarah wouldn't just come back for no reason. There's something going on here, and she wants Topper to know about it."

Rafe's voice was firm, his conviction unwavering as he shook his head in response to Kelce's attempt to reassure him.

"No," he interjected, his tone laced with a sense of certainty. "Sarah wouldn't just come back for no reason. There's something going on here, and she wants Topper to know about it."

The realization settled over the group like a heavy shroud, casting a pall of unease over their conversation. Rafe's words hung in the air, a sobering reminder of the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.

Kelce exchanged a glance with Topper, the gravity of Rafe's assertion sinking in as they both processed the implications of Sarah's return. It was clear that there was more to her reappearance than met the eye, and they would need to tread carefully if they hoped to uncover the truth. With a shared sense of determination, the group fell into a tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they grappled with the implications of Sarah's return. Whatever lay ahead, they knew that they would need to stay vigilant and united if they hoped to weather the storm that was brewing on the horizon.

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galedekarios · 6 months

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the netherese orb: consequences for gale and his connection to magic

i wrote a post a while ago focusing on the physical ailments that the orb was causing gale, and i had a really interesting exchange with another user on it:

@dark-videogamer: I just noticed it myself, which for me implies that as the orb is consuming his weave, his life essence, it's also refusing to allow that part of the body to properly heal, like he's always internally bleeding or it's infected. (at least in my opinion) which makes me wonder how irreparable the damage is there. @galedekarios: i actually do have a post coming up on that! i want to focus on what the orb does to his magical ability in that post because i focused more on the physical aspect here. of course, they sort of go hand in hand for a wizard to a certain degree, but there are a few hints in the game. anyhow, sorry for rambling! i very much agree with you! it's def either is still consuming gale's own gifts and i think that's a reality he has to face after it's removed.

so this further inspired because i actually wanted to use this opportunity to look at how the orb might be affecting gale's magic / casting ability.

general stuff & how the physical impairments affect the casting of spells

first off, i want to note that both of these are of course intrinsically linked, not least of all because the orb is affecting everything a caster class needs to cast spells:

-general biological deterioration -muscle spasms -ringing in the ears -disorientation -concentration issues -varying levels of physical discomfort / pain

aside from the obvious things that would impair a caster (deterioriation, disorientation, pain, discomfort), concentration is incredibly important to maintain a spell. muscle spasms, too, would absolutely interfere with the somatic component of a spell:

The somatic component was a basic part of spellcasting. Many spells required the caster to make a motion to cast the spell. If the caster was unable to make the correct motion, the spell could not be cast.

i could add more here, of course, but i think it's fairly obvious how all of these mix together into something that would leave a wizard defenseless, and again, gale admits as much, too:

player: i fail to see why you need me to help you this. you’ve done fine without me so far. gale: A fair point - however, until recently I was able to rely on a supply of artefacts stored in my tower in Waterdeep. A supply that has now run dry. The reality of the matter is that a lone wizard with a chronic impairment such as my own is not in the most ideal of situations with regards to self-defence. The manner of artefacts I need are not often found waiting patiently on a shop-keep’s shelf. One usually has to lift them delicately from trap-filled tombs or prise them from the hands of violent ne'erdowells.

the orb

but what consequences did the orb itself have?

we have several lines in the game, where characters are surprised that the orb didn't outright kill gale. gale himself knows this and the imagery we get when gale opens his mind to the protag and shares his story is incredibly violent:

the orb didn't kill him outright and it was a miracle that it didn't, both gale and mystra acknowledge this in-game.

but it left him incredibly weakened and with a condition that could still kill him if left untreated, as well as those around him.

what it did do instantly, however, is that it did consume his gifts.

again, both gale and mystra acknowledge this in-game:

Gale: Is that why you lied to me about the Crown of Karsus? Self-preservation? Mystra: My concern was the preservation of everything. The Karsite Weave could tear apart the very fabric of the Material Plane. That it entered your body and consumed no more than your powers was a miracle. But we will not be granted another. The only reason the 'orb' sleeps is because I have allowed it to feed on the true Weave - a temporary measure, but one that will not be enough to save us.

Gale: It sounds like the door to redemption is open at last. All I have to do is walk through it, carrying the Crown of Karsus. Player: Is that what you want? Gale: Perhaps. I see few other options open to me, if I ever want to reclaim those parts of myself the orb snatched away. If I ever want to be me again. Player: We're going to cure you Gale: Thank you. There aren't many I'd trust to stand beside me on such a journey. Fewer still who would do so because they believe I deserve such a chance.

so what are these gifts that were consumed exactly?

in early access, there used to be a scene with gale in act i that was commonly known as the loss scene, where he would be found in camp, cursing as he tries to cast a spell that he was once able to:

Gale: Khat-Tsjin Deth-Thra! Tav [Wizard]: That was a failed spell if ever I heard one. Gale: Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It’s getting late. I think I’ll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. Tav: Is something wrong? Gale: Let’s just say not all is right. But that goes for all of us. Tav [Wizard]: I didn't recognize your hand gestures. What spell were you trying to cast? Gale: A bygone spell from a bygone age. It doesn't matter. Tav [weave romantic]: Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell [CHECK wizard] Gale: So you did. Very wel. Just now, I was trying to cast a spell I once cast with ease, but I failed. You see, this fire – there was a time that I could make it come alive. That it would take the shape of a dragon and roar in delight. There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish. There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more – a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be. Why? Because I’ve lost. Tav: I don’t understand. What is it that you’ve lost? Gale: I’ve lost… Tav: [Insight] Go on. Every burden is easier to carry when shared. Gale: An apt enough observation. I've... lost... Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. Tav: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. (Gale Disapproval)

this insight in just how great the magnitude of his loss in power as a wizard and, intrinsically linked to that, his ability as a wizard is entirely absent in the full release of the game.

while we do know that he was an archmage and we also know that he was a chosen of mystra, with all the gifts that may have entailed, we only get a very vague mention of the lost gifts and gale being a former shadow of who he used to be.

abilities of the chosen of mystra include:

Chosen of Mystra gained many benefits from her blessing. They held a greater command over spell, being able to cast even the highest tiers repeatedly. Doing so, however, was not encouraged by Azuth and Mystra (Midnight), as it required repeatedly tapping upon the weave. They also became more familiar with magic and able to detect its presence. In addition, many also developed immunities to magic, and eventually even immunities to disease and poison. They become much more hardy, showing a toughness uncharacteristic of most mages. Mystra's Chosen were also immune to the deleterious effects from the casting and wearing of a mantle: they suffered no loss of health or the removal of spells from their minds upon the raising of a mantle or the cumulative daily requirement of the spell. The Chosen also wielded silver fire, a unique raw magic that conjured a silvery flame with a variety of functions.

[source]

other interesting bits and pieces:

Chosen age, albeit slowly, and as they age their power becomes closer to equivalent level mortal wizards. They can steal bodies to prolong their lifespan, but if they choose not to they eventually die and return to the Weave until Mystra makes them a new body. Chosen still have access to Silver Fire and can manipulate their hair freely. Mystra has imposed restrictions on magic in some cases, such as making it physically painful to read minds. This applies to using weave-work to communicate long distance with 'regular' humans. Chosen have the ability to communicate to the weave-ghosts of other Chosen as well as living Chosen, but rarely seek to interrupt the lives of each other. Laeral can speak across distance with Storm, Alustriel and even Halaster. Chosen still don't need to sleep, but do need to enter Reverie to replenish their energy.

[source]

again, this is all not really mentioned in the game and it's sad because again, it adds a lot of context to gale as a character. the most that is hinted at, i believe, is elminster's incredibly long lifespan of several hundreds of years.

conclusion / consequences of removing the orb

this is just speculation on my part, so feel free to ignore this completely.

apart from the chronic ailments, we know from the arcane hunger status that the orb feeds on gale's very soul and that both gale and mystra acknowledge that the orb has consumed already gale's greatest gifts as a wizard.

we also know that tara and gale were not able to figure out immediately how to treat the orb after gale was afflicted by it. it was tara, who in their combined research, figured it out and it took them some time to do so.

on top of that, we know that gale had to live without said treatment for a while since he no longer had any magical items to consume and, in fact, i speculated it's a part of the reason why he may have left waterdeep behind and was captured on the nautiloid.

all this time, the orb was left with nothing to consume, with nothing to feed on, except what was within gale to give and the orb is ever-hungry.

i feel like this surely would have consequences even after the orb is rendered inert and then, later, implied to be removed by mystra:

one of the sadder outcomes could very well be that his ability to cast spells is permanently diminished or entirely cut off.

Thus comes the question: what is the Weave? It is an essential element of the universe. It runs through everything in unseen threads. It is what makes magic possible. — Excerpt from Magic of the Weave - An Introduction.

with the orb inside of him, left untreated for long intervals, it may have consumed a lot of gale's own weave, something that runs through all living souls, his ability to cast magic might be even smaller and weaker than now.

at best, it will take him some time after the game to recover, back home in waterdeep, with tara, with morena and a romanced protag and new friends.

at worst, and, with the knowledge that the orb consumed so much upon first entering his body, it may also be a possibility that gale could be stripped of magic entirely, but that's quite a cruel fate for him, someone who says that magic is their life.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #a big thank you to fae mako and shiba for listening to me rant and exchanging ideas on this

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little-emerald-snake · 5 months

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Smutmas Day 13

“I need you, now.” - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC

🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI

1,451k words

Warnings: under influence of lust potion, unprotected p-in-v sex

She’d come running when she’s received Sebastian’s owl. He didn’t tell her what he needed exactly but he made the situation sound rather dire. She made her way to the Undercroft as quickly as she could.

When the gate to the Undercroft slammed shut, her eyes locked onto the fluffy brunette Slytherin slowly pacing in front of a stack of old dusty crates. His face looked flushed under all those freckles and as soon as his eyes met hers she noticed his pupils dilated like saucers.

She approached him and took his face between her hands. His own hands clasped over hers and he groaned almost unwillingly. “Y-you’re here. Great Merlin, I’m so glad you’re actually here.”

Her eyes swept over him, looking for anything else unusual about him. Upon finding nothing, her eyes met his again and he bit his cheek. “I-I need your help…please…I-I know it’s a lot but-“

She interrupted him, already intent on helping him no matter what as it was what she had always done. “Yes, of course. What’s wrong? What do you need help with? Are you sick?”

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before pulling her hands off of his cheeks, holding her hands, almost unwilling to let them go. “I-I ingested a potion. I-I didn’t know what it was. I-I lost a bet with Weasley over something stupid and…well…the loser had to ingest a mystery potion. I-I’m almost certain the potion was a lust potion and now…”

Sebastian’s eyes dropped to the floor and his hands dropped hers, unable to finish his sentence. He didn’t need to though, she understood very clearly what was happening to his body at the moment.

Her eyes scanned him from head to toe and she took in his loosened tie, his too tight pants, and his overall disheveled appearance. How long had he been struggling? “H-how long has the potion been in your system?”

He groaned with an exaggerated swallow before returning to his pacing in small circles. “Almost an hour. I-I was trying to fight it at first but at this point it…hurts…like under my skin it feels like fire and I have this urge to…well I’m sure you know…but I was wondering if you knew a way to combat it.”

She shakes her head from where she stands. “N-no I don’t know a way to combat it. I just know you should keep cool…and I-if you don’t fight it it’ll go away faster.”

He groans, clearly upset with the knowledge that this wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t fight his urges. “So you’re telling me I have to…”

She nods, awkwardly brushing her boot across the stone floor. “If you want it to feel better then yes. Come on, get comfy with some blankets and pillows. I’ll cast a cooling charm to help you for now.”

She does just that, casting a cooling charm on him before scooting some crates into a wall before plopping herself down on the opposite side of the blankets.

Sebastian looks hesitantly at the blankets he’d arranged when he realizes she has no intention of leaving. “Y-you’re going to stay here while I…”

She nods, looking briefly at her fingernails. “Yea. Can’t have you burning up down here so I’m just gonna keep casting a cooling charm occasionally. Don’t worry, not gonna perve on you, I’ll stay on this side of the boxes.”

Sebastain grunts, sitting down on the blanket, propping a pillow against the crate. He hesitantly undid his trousers, biting his lip to prevent a moan from the friction.

He sighed once his cock was exposed to the warm air of the undercroft. Slowly he took himself in his hand, a gasp bursting past his lips at how sensitive he was.

She tried not to blush hearing the sound of him spitting into his palm and the gasp of air he let out. She swallows harshly, trying to fiddle with the hem of her skirt to distract herself but he must find something quite nice as he lets out an unexpected moan, promptly hissing through his teeth after.

His cheeks are on fire, almost like the rest of his body. He’s typically not one to be shameful but the sounds he’s making are so needy and high pitched and he can’t keep them down as he fists his leaking cock, desperate for release.

His hips lift and he groans again, trying to desperately fuck his palm. His cock is swollen and angry and his stomach is already tightening with need.

The problem is he can smell a waft of her perfume when she taps his arm with another cooling spell and he can’t help but imagine burying himself inside of her. Now it’s all he can think about and it’s driving him wild.

She flushes with guilt when the hem of her skirt lifts a little too high and her fingers brush against the heated skin of her thigh. Shame reddens her face as those fingers slide up to her underwear.

She slides those fingers over the damp center as she bites her lip, shamelessly listening to the slickness of his palm and his wanton, breathy moans.

He cups his balls, moaning louder. It's taking everything within him not to beg her for her hands on him. The lust swimming in his brain has him imagining all the ways he could bend her over and fuck into her mercilessly to make the burning within him subside so much quicker.

He’s so desperate to cum but his body stays on the cusp, needing a push over the edge to finish. He chokes on a moan, fucking his fist needily. He’s falling apart at the seams faster than he can help it.

She can hear the desperation in his moans, he sounds almost pained. She’s never listened to a boy masturbate before but she can’t imagine it’s not supposed to sound so intense, so needy.

He lets out a broken moan, hips flexing as he moves the hand from his balls to fist the blanket under him. “I-I need to cum. I’m so c-close. Please. I need you…now.”

Without hesitation she’s around the corner of the crate between them watching him fist his cock furiously. He looks sweaty and disheveled and so fucking good.

The head of his cock looks red and angry as his hand pumps furiously. She bites her lip, straddling his legs and pulling her panties to the side.

Sebastian nearly sobs as he holds the base of himself to guide it’s she lowers her tight little pussy onto him. The heat is overwhelming and he fights the urge to cum immediately , desperate to make it enough to thrust into her once.

His hands fly to her hips and he shoves her down eagerly, she moans on top of him and she’s so wet he knows there’s no way it wasn’t all for him.

The thought drives him mad and he thrusts himself up into her, letting out a guttural cry. “I-I don’t think I can stop. I-I’m sorry. G-gonna cum inside you…please.”

She uses her legs on either side of him to bounce in his lap, placing her hands on the crate behind his head to steady herself. “S-shut up and just fuck me.”

He practically growls, pushing her down, not leaving her heat for a second as he pins her to the blanket and bucks his hips wildly into her cunt. Now on top, his thrusts are messy and uncontrolled but he’s pumping her full of cum while moaning so brokenly it would break her heart if she wasn’t busy losing herself in the pleasure.

She’s clinging to his shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he fucks her so hard it’s pushing her body across the blanket and he’s scooting to stay buried inside of her twitching pussy.

She can already feel she’s so full of cum but he hasn’t stopped. Like a man possessed, he’s bucking wildly into her till she’s falling apart for him and crying out from her release.

Somehow Sebastian releases again inside of her, his cum dripping down between her legs and over her ass as his hips finally slow down and come to a stop. He’s panting wildly, she can feel his heart hammering double time against her own chest.

He’s still buried within her, trying to caress her hair gently, muttering soft apologies next to her ear as he catches his breath. “S-sorry. M’so sorry…this wasn’t how I wanted t-“

She shuts him up by pulling his chin and pressing her lips to his. He kisses her back softly, only pulling back when she lets go. “It’s okay…really. Was good for me too, Seb.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #writing challenge #smutmas 2023 #smutmas #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, Smut, Arrest, Admittance of feelings. Think that's it.

Word Count: 7.01k

A/N: And we're back!! I decided to combine chapters nine and ten together, hence why the chapter is so long. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

It had been weeks since the moment on the train, and you were starting to wonder if maybe you should move back to Baltimore. You hadn’t said a word to Jake since you stomped on his foot, save for the occasional comment about farm chores, and he had certainly done his damndest to avoid even looking at you it seemed.

You found yourself lying awake at night, thoughts drifting towards those of mossy green eyes and gentle touches that made your heart sing and your skin burn with longing. What little sleep you were getting was cut short by nightmares of faceless threats that grabbed at you, tearing your clothes and leaving you gasping for breath as you shot up out of bed. It wasn’t until your eyes would skim over the small, ornate wooden box that your heartbeat would slow and your shoulders would relax. You would crawl slowly out from underneath the sheets, padding over to your dresser where the box sat and run your fingers gently over the ornately carved flowers. Your heart would clench in your chest, and you would try to fight off the tears that gathered in your eyes to no avail.

Stupid, stupid man, you’d think to yourself, scrubbing furiously at your eyes before grabbing the box and trudging back to bed, laying it by your side with a hand on top before drifting back off into a dreamless sleep.

“You look like hell,” Bunny muttered to you one day, polishing a glass as Birdie sat beside you. The teacher had been teaching Bunny how to read, and she had started giving the other girl small writing assignments that she would check over.

“Your penmanship is getting better!” Birdie chirped at Bunny, beaming brightly as she slid the paper back across the bar, casting you a sideways glance. “And she’s right. You look awful. Have you been getting any sleep?”

You grimaced, scratching anxiously at the wood of the bar.

“I have,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. “But it hasn’t been much.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain blond that’s been moping around my bar for the past three weeks, would it?” Penny asked, giving you a knowing look as she set a crate of beers down on the counter. You refused to meet her eyes, glancing up when a familiar brunette sat down on the stool next to you.

“Your brother is worried too, you know,” Nat told you, studying you closely. “He says you’ve hardly been eating and that it’s like watching a ghost walking around the house.”

“He’s exaggerating,” you scowled, rolling your eyes. Nat gave you an unimpressed look, and you looked around to see matching expressions from the other women. You sighed, burying your face into your arms atop the bar.

“Somehow, I don’t think he is,” Nat muttered.

“Are you even going to tell us what happened between the two of you?” Bunny asked, face a mask of indifference as always despite her tone of concern.

“Does it matter?” You mumbled, glancing up at her. Penny huffed, placing a hand on her hip as she leveled you with a look.

“It does when I’ve had a moody cowboy practically drink through all of my beer every night for the past three weeks,” she frowned, concern still evident in her eyes despite her disapproving tone. “Whatever happened between the two of you, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

You didn’t say anything, eyes focused on the grains of wood underneath your fingernails.

“I…” You trailed off. “I said such horrible things to him.”

“What did you say?” Birdie asked you, leaning forward and resting a hand on your arm in comfort. You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you sniffled slightly.

“I told him that he didn’t know me, that maybe I wanted to move back to Maryland and marry someone there.”

Silence. You glanced up to see the other four woman all glancing at one another. Penny sighed, looking back at you with a grimace.

“It’s not so bad,” she offered. “You could have said worse, I’m sure. It’s nothing you can’t apologize for.”

“You didn’t see his face,” you countered, sitting up straighter. “And I tried to apologize, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Jake is stubborn, that’s for damn sure,” Nat muttered, shaking her head. “He always has been, ever since we were little. You know he refused to take a payment for fixing Mr. Benson’s roof last spring? And then when Jake went to buy that emerald necklace for whatever reason, Mr. Benson had to practically shove the necklace down his throat because he wouldn’t accept the money from Jake. Pretty sure Jake snuck some behind the counter when the old man wasn’t looking, anyway.”

“Did you say emerald necklace?” You asked her, head shooting up from where you had rested it back on your arms.

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, it was that really pretty one that sat in the window for forever! I wonder what he did with it? I haven’t seen Sarah with it at all, and she’s the one he buys jewelry for.”

“You mean,” you swallowed, “he didn’t steal it?”

“Jake’s not that kind of man, honey,” Penny smiled. “He sure likes to give off that impression though, doesn’t he? He’d rather you think the worst of him before he corrects you. Thinks it’s the same as humility, the fool.”

“I,” you breathed, feeling your face grow pale. “I told him I wouldn’t accept it because I thought he stole it or bought it with stolen money.”

“Wait, he tried to give it to you?” Birdie asked, eyes wide. “And you told him no?”

“Yes,” you groaned, hanging your head once again. “I’m such a fool.”

“I hardly doubt that it was your own doing,” Bunny muttered, storing the glass she had just finished polishing. “Sure, you’re just as much a fool as he is, but it’s his own damn fault for not telling you.”

“That’s right,” Natasha nodded, turning to face you fully. “You two just need to sit down and talk, tell each other exactly what you mean and what you feel. Christ, I thought your brother was going to chuck that damn pocket watch at Jake’s head when he came slinking into the firm to give it to Benji.”

You sat straight up as your heart stopped, tears gathering in your eyes.

“He did what?” You choked, eyes wide in horror, skin pale and clammy.

Natasha regarded you, seeming to hesitate before continuing. “He came into the firm just last week, trying to give Benji this old, silver pocket watch. Said he picked it up while with you in Baltimore, and that he wanted to return it to where it belonged. I’ve never seen your brother so mad, Scout. I thought he was going to pass out from how loud he was yelling. Told Jake to keep the damn watch and get his head out of his ass.”

You were vaguely aware of Birdie blushing at Nat’s coarse language beside you, but your mind was reeling from the brunette’s words. He had tried to give your father’s pocket watch back? You thought you were going to be sick as you stood, moving to leave the saloon.

“Are you okay, Scout?” Bunny called after you, worry in her voice that was mirrored by the look on Penny’s face.

“I just remembered I have chores that need tending to,” you murmured, moving more on auto-pilot than anything in that moment.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Natasha offered, already moving to stand, but you waved her off.

“No, no,” you frowned. “I’ll manage on my own, thank you. I have some thinking to do.”

Nat didn’t seem too sure, but slowly sat back down on her stool as you walked briskly out of the saloon and onto the street. The wind whipped at your cheeks, the cold biting your skin and turning it red. You made your way home, mind numb as you replayed Natasha’s words over and over again in your head. He wanted to give the watch back? Was Penny wrong? Were you too late to make amends?

Your heart beat quicker in your chest as your mind ran a mile a minute, hardly noticing the ranch hands that rode up from the far field as you moved mechanically towards the barn. The horses would need fresh hay, and you were running behind on your to-do list for the day. You made your way up to the loft, pushing a large bale of hay towards the ledge, watching as it fell to the ground floor with a large thud. Making your way back down the ladder, you didn’t notice the figure that hovered at the barn door, too absorbed in your own thoughts.

It wasn’t until you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind as you moved to lift the hay bale that you were snapped back to the present.

“God dammit, Scout,” Jake hissed, picking you up and setting you down behind him. “How many times do I have to tell you that this isn’t a job for you?”

You stared at him, saying nothing as he turned around to start sorting out the hay into the different stalls.

“I can do it,” you muttered, taking a step forward. Jake glanced over his shoulder at you with an unimpressed look before going back to what he was doing. You took a step towards him, then another, and then another, and then more until you were standing by the hay, kneeling down as you pushed his hands away.

“I can do it,” you snapped this time, scooping up as much of the hay as you could before moving to stand, stumbling slightly in the process. Jake started towards you, hand outstretched to help you, but you stepped away, glaring up at him. You wouldn’t cry in front of him, you couldn’t.

Jake frowned down at you, dropping his hand back to his side as he regarded you. You felt your bottom lip begin to tremble, and you turned away, trudging towards the nearest stall and dispersing the hay.

“Scout, stop” he sighed, and you ignored him, moving to continue your task. As you made to make your way over to the next stall, Jake grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Stop,” he repeated, eyes earnest, shifting to worry as they took you in. You ripped out of his grasp, immediately going on the defensive.

“What?” You growled at him, mustering up all of the false bravado that you could as you met his green eyes. The eyes that you missed so dearly. He seemed to hesitate before squaring his shoulders and rummaging through his pockets.

“I wanted to give you something before you left for Maryland,” he said. You saw a flash of silver as he pulled his hand out. “It seemed only fair that you should have this back.”

He held the pocket watch out to you, the small bird still swooping at the bottom of the ornate design.

“What?” You asked, eyes widening as you stared at the watch. You couldn’t stop the tears that flooded your eyes, and you let out a choked sob as all of your emotions came crashing down at once. Stumbling to the side, a hand stretched out to brace against the stall door, a wail tore from your throat. It was a sound that even surprised you in how raw and unfiltered it was. You gasped for air, but none seemed to come to you as you choked out sob after sob, hardly being able to tell when one ended and the next one started.

Jake’s eyes widened as you fell apart in front of him, watching you wearily as if you were a wild animal that would turn on him at any moment. He took a tentative step towards you, waiting for you to push him back, but was instead surprised when you grasped at him, falling into his arms and latching onto his shirt as if it were the one thing that could keep you grounded. Your wails and sobs still rocked your body, tears now staining the white cotton of Jake’s shirt as you pressed your face into his chest. His arms enveloped you, holding you gently but firmly as he swayed you from side to side. A hand rested on the back of your head, slowly stroking your hair as he pressed his face into your temple. This was what you wanted.

Your cries and tears slowed to a trickle, sobs replaced by hiccups as you regained control of your breathing, Jake gently cooing at you the entire time. Jake moved to pull away, but you clung to him tighter, glancing up at him with wet eyes.

“Please don’t let me go,” you begged him softly, and you saw a whirlwind of emotion in his gaze as he looked at you. He seemed unsure on how to respond at first, but with a set of his jaw, he nodded down at you slowly.

“I’ll be right here until you’re ready to go,” he said. “I’ll hold you until you don’t need me anymore.”

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you pressed yourself firmly against him.

“I’ll always need you,” you whispered, another sob wracking your body. Jake chuckled bitterly.

“No, you won’t,” he muttered, ire in his tone. “You’ll go back to Baltimore, and you’ll find yourself a husband. Someone who can give you all the things you want. Someone who can make you happy.”

He pulled away with more success this time, just enough to hold up the watch.

“You’ll give this to someone who’s deserving of you,” he whispered, his own eyes shining now. “Someone who you love.”

You stared at him, so many emotions swirling within you. This beautiful, stupid man who had insulted you the first time you met him. This man who had inserted himself into your life with little regard to social etiquette. This man who had pulled a gun for you when you were vulnerable and scared. This man who had carved you not one, but two beautiful presents. This man that had threatened to kill for you simply because you had cried. This man that listened to you and respected your moral code enough to go out and get an honest job. This man that stood before you, ready to let you leave without a second thought because he thought it was what you wanted.

“I’m not going back to Baltimore,” you said finally, face grave as you spoke. Jake’s eyebrows shot up in shock.

“You’re not?” He asked you.

“Jake, it’s been three weeks since we returned,” you replied, frowning. “If I was so eager to go back, don’t you think I would have left by now?”

“I think there’s a lot of planning that goes into something like that,” he countered. You scowled at him, pulling away completely now and putting some distance between the two of you.

“Nat told me you tried to give the watch to Benji,” you accused, glaring at the offending silver pendant.

“Did she tell you that he wouldn’t take it?” He countered with a frown.

“She did,” you confirmed, clasping your hands in front of you. “Said that my brother practically threw it back in your face, he was so angry.”

“That temper appears to be a family trait,” he muttered, and you had to suppress a smile.

You were still mad at him, after all.

“I figured,” he continued, taking a step forward, “that he just wanted me to give it back to you. It’s a family heirloom, and he has his own. It’s an important thing to you, and it’s only fair that you should give it to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

He held the watch out to you, and the two of you stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, deliberately, you reached out and took the watch from him. You ran your fingers over the plants and birds etched into the sides with care, contemplating your next words.

“You’re right,” you hummed, glancing up at him. His jaw was set, eyes glistening as he watched you. “This watch should go to someone who I can call my husband. Someone who can give me the things that I want and who will make me happy.”

Jake sucked in a breath, shifting from one foot to the other as you continued.

“Someone who is deserving of me,” you breathed, eyes shining as you gazed up at him. “Someone who I love.”

Jake hung his head as you finished, and you caught the faintest hint of a sniffle as you stepped forward. You took his right hand in yours, squeezing it lightly before opening it and placing the pocket watch back into his grasp. You gently curled his fingers around it, holding his hand in both of yours as you looked up at him.

His green eyes bore into yours, a questioning look on his face as he frowned.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes, moving to wrap your arms around his neck as you leaned into him. Without a thought, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close as your lips hovered over his.

“You idiot,” you chuckled, eyelids drooping as you stared into his eyes, willing him to see what the two of you had known all along. “I love you.”

Jake stared at you, eyes widened in shock. He studied you, seeming to try and find any trace of deception. When he saw that there was none, a grin broke out on his face.

“You do?” He asked quietly, eyes sparkling with joy now.

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning in closer so that your lips brushed his gently. “I love you, Jake.”

His lips crashed against yours, desperate to feel you. You kissed him back with just as much passion, breaking away after a few moments. Jake’s lips chased after yours, but you pulled away from him with a giggle.

“Come with me,” you said in a hushed voice, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the barn. Jake followed you eagerly, practically racing you up the steps and into the house. Your home was silent, indicating that no one else was there, and you quickly pulled Jake up the stairs and into your room.

Once you had crossed the threshold, Jake slammed the door shut, spinning you around so that you were pressed up against it. His lips grazed yours as his hands ran around to grab the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and locking them around his waist. His lips molded to yours as he pressed against your core, and you gasped as you felt the hard evidence of his desire press into your most sensitive parts, and Jake used this as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours in languid strokes.

“Need you,” he moaned desperately, nipping at your bottom lip. Your hands ran across his shoulders, your right running up to tug on the strands of blond that curled at the nape of his neck. He let out a moan that had you grinding your core back against him, earning a whimper from the man in front of you.

“You have me,” you promised, pulling him back in for a kiss. His tongue was hot against you as you continued to grind down onto him. His hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as he thrust up into you every so often. His lips pulled away from yours as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to the bottom of your earlobe. He sucked the flesh in between his lips, nibbling on it lightly before letting it go.

“Say it,” he breathed, hand palming at your breasts as you let out a wanton moan. You tilted your head as he began to suck on a patch of sensitive skin, making you see stars as he nipped every so often, laving the spot with his tongue. “Come on, honey girl. Say it.”

“I love you,” you gasped when he gave a particularly hard bite to the same spot just as he thrust up into you. Jake smirked against your neck, letting your legs drop from around him as he pulled back. You whined at the loss of contact, which only made Jake’s smirk grow bigger.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he cooed, moving to sit at the foot of the bed. “Can’t do what we’re about to do with clothes on, can we?”

It took you a second to understand what he was saying. You supposed you should have felt apprehension at the very least, but in that moment, all you could feel was a mixture of desire and…love.

You quickly undid the buttons of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor. You then removed your socks and shoes, followed quickly by your shirt and then your bloomers. You were soon left standing in front of Jake in nothing but your corset and chemise. While you had undressed, Jake had removed his own clothing, now standing in front of you in just his drawers. You felt a blush creep up your neck as he stared at you, a familiar warmth in his green gaze.

Jake walked back over to you slowly, raising a hand to unlace your corset. You sucked in a breath as it fell away from you, hitting the floor with a light thud. His hands moved to the bottom of your corset, pausing as he looked at you for permission. You nodded, swallowing thickly as his fingers gripped the bottom of the garment, pulling it up and over your head. You were completely exposed to him now, and you moved to cover yourself out of embarrassment.

“No,” Jake murmured, shaking his head as he gazed at you. “I want to see you, honey girl. Want to see what’s mine.”

You shuddered at his words, a jolt of pleasure running up your spine as you pressed your thighs together. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Jake who chuckled lightly before turning you gently so that the backs of your knees brushed the bed. He laid you down, shifting you so that your head rested against the pillows. You reached for him, and Jake leaned down to press his lips to yours once again, licking into your mouth with soft, deliberate strokes.

You gasped when you felt his fingers trace your folds, gathering the wetness that lay there and stroking back up to your clit. Your hips jolted off the bed, and he hushed you, pressing his lips in gentle kisses back towards your ear.

“Already so wet for me, sweetheart,” he chuckled, drawing small figure eights onto your clit, and you mewled at the sensation. “Always so responsive for me. Always such a good girl for me. How did I get so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like you in my life, hm?”

“Jakey,” you breathed, locking eyes with his as he pressed a finger into you, causing your back to arch off the bed.

“It’s okay, honey girl,” he cooed, reaching up to stroke your hair. “I’ve got you, sweet thing. Always feel so tight and warm. Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

You felt yourself clench at his words and he added a second finger, scissoring you open as he continued to stroke into you.

“You like the sound of that, huh?” He chuckled, placing a tender kiss to your jaw. “Like the sound of me filling you up? Giving you what you need?”

You nodded your head vigorously, eyes never leaving his. He smirked once again, looking down at where his fingers disappeared inside you before glancing back up.

“Tell me what it is you need, baby,” he whispered, watching you fall apart as he added a third finger and hitting that spongy spot inside of you. You mewled, throwing your head back. Jake kissed down the column of your throat and over the curve of your breast. He took your right nipple into his mouth, laving the bud with his tongue. The sensations were becoming too much, and you felt the familiar tingle begin to grow in your lower stomach.

Jake let go of you with a quiet pop before switching his attention to your other breast. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, holding him to you as your hips raised in time with the stroke of his fingers, desperately chasing your high.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he rasped, gazing up at you from between the valley of your breasts. “Tell me what you need.”

“Need your cock, Jakey,” you whimpered, grinding down on his fingers. “Need you inside me. Need to feel you fill me up. Need you.”

Jake reached up to take your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it gently before pulling it and letting it go.

“You have me,” he echoed your words from earlier. “Now come.”

At his command, the pleasure inside you burst, washing over you in waves as you cried out, clawing at his shoulders as he continued to pump his fingers into you slowly, riding out your high. As you came down, he slipped his fingers out of you, and you felt bereft of his touch. You watched in awe as you raised his fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth as he made a show of licking them clean.

“Just like honey,” he hummed. You reached for him, pulling him to you as you kissed him. You licked into his mouth, moaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue. You pulled back just enough to speak against his lips.

“Want you inside of me,” you breathed, staring into his eyes, the green swallowed whole by the black of his pupils. “Want you to make love to me.”

Jake’s breath hitched as he studied you.

“Are you sure?” He asked you, and you nodded, reaching a hand down in between the two of you to grasp his hard length. Jake nearly choked as you ran your palm up and down him, grasping lightly every so often.

“I’m sure,” you whispered. Jake’s eyes bore into yours before nodding, shuffling out of his own drawers, baring himself to you. Your eyes widened as you took him in. His shaft curved towards his stomach, the tip an angry red as it leaked pre-cum.

You swallowed thickly, reaching your hand out once more to run your fingertips over the head, moving down to grip him firmly. Jake let out a low groan, throwing his head back as you stroked him experimentally.

“So good for me, darlin’,” he moaned, reaching down to remove your hand. He shot you a playful wink as he slipped his fingers through yours, resting them by your head. “But if you keep that up, I’m going to come before we even get to the fun part.”

You smiled shyly up at him as he took a hold of himself, running his length up and down your folds to gather the wetness you so freely gave him. You let out a high-pitched whimper every time the tip brushed against your clit, and you threw your head back at the pleasurable feeling. Finally, Jake rested the head against you, glancing up at you once more.

“Are you sure?” He asked you, and you nodded.

“Please, Jakey,” you whined. Jake pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back. You gasped as you felt him press the head of his cock into your tight hole, the sensation foreign but not altogether unpleasant. He pressed a little more of his length in, pausing to let you accommodate to his size. He cradled you in his arms, leaning back down to whisper gentle words of encouragement into your ear as he slowly pressed more and more of himself into you. After what felt like ages, you finally felt the coarse hairs of his base press against your clit, sending a shock of pleasure up your spine that had you clenching around him. Jake let out a hiss, pressing his face into the column of your throat. Jake took your other hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours and pressing them on the other side of your head mirror to the ones on your right. He pulled back to look at you, eyes hazy with pleasure.

“I’m going to move now, okay?” He asked you, and you nodded, whining as he pulled back out of you slowly before thrusting back in. He continued his movement, brushing his nose against yours as his pace built, the head of him hitting that spot inside you with every pass. It wasn’t long before the vague discomfort gave way to pleasure, and soon your hips were raising to meet his.

“Such a good girl,” he moaned, giving you a kiss that was more teeth than lips. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this. Taking me so well, yeah? Can feel you squeezing me, gripping me like you don’t ever want me to leave. Your cunt is so greedy for me and my big cock, huh? Such a greedy pussy, and it’s all mine now.”

You moaned wantonly at his words, your head thrown back into the pillows as he continued to rut into your soaked core. A squelching sound could be heard from where your bodies connected, but you didn’t have it in you to feel embarrassed. Not when his cock was hitting you in all the right places, his filthy words only adding to your excitement.

“Jakey,” you cried, feeling the pleasure begin to peak. Jake grunted as you clenched particularly hard around him.

“That’s it, honey girl,” he cooed, releasing your hand to cup your cheek as he gazed down at you. “Want you to cum around me, milk me dry. Milk me for all I’m worth. My balls have been aching for weeks. Havin’ to jerk off at the thought of what this sweet cunt would feel like when she drains me dry. Oh, fuck.

He gasped as your pussy spasmed around him.

“That turn you on, baby? The thought of me jerkin’ off to the thought of fillin’ you up with my cum? This pretty, little pussy is just begging me to come inside her, huh?” He groaned, thrusts becoming harder, and you could feel the coil begin to tighten.

“You close, huh, honey? I can feel how close you are. Can feel how hard your grippin’ me. That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me. Come all over my cock.”

His words were all the permission you needed, and you came with a loud cry, body spasming underneath him as he continued to stroke in and out of you as you rode out your high. Jake’s hips began to move faster, chasing his own high as he pistoned in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room.

“Gonna fill you up, honey girl,” he groaned, eyes glazed over as pleasure washed over him. “Gonna fill you up, and maybe even knock you up. How’s that sound? Just thinkin’ about you all round and swollen with my baby has me goin’ crazy. Want you leakin’ with my cum by the time I’m through with you. Everybody in town is going to know you’re my girl, and they’ll know how good I make you feel. How good I take care of my girl. Fuck.”

His words had you tightening around him. They shouldn’t have made you feel the way you were feeling, but the sight of Jake so lost in the feel of you as he neared his end had another orgasm ripping through you, right off the back of the first one.

“Knew you’d like the sound of that,” he smirked, thrusts becoming sloppy. “I’m gonna come so hard for you, baby. Gonna fill you up with so much cum you’ll be leaking me for days. Shit. Need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me what you told me earlier. Be my good fucking girl and tell me.”

“I love you,” you keened, barely coherent as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Want you to fill me up, Jakey, please. Wanna feel you.”

“Shit, darlin’,” he gasped hips stuttering, and you felt red hot spurts begin to fill you. Jake pinched his eyes closed, lost in his own pleasure as he began to babble. “Fuck! Oh, fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming for you, baby. It’s all for you, that’s it. Take it. Take all of it and milk me. Jesus Christ. Oh, I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Scout. Oh…”

His hips slowed as his orgasm subsided, and he practically collapsed on top of you as the last tremors of his release rocked through him. You ran your fingers through his hair, skin hot and sweaty as you both calmed down. Jake’s head rested against your chest, and you let out a contented sigh as he placed a gentle kiss to the swell of your breast before looking up at you. His green eyes were filled with love and awe, emotions that you were sure reflected in your own.

“I love you,” he murmured, earning a small smile.

“I love you too.”

You awoke the next morning feeling a soreness between your legs, but a pleasant buzz filling you nonetheless. You shifted, taking note of the strong arms that held you tighter against a broad chest at your back. Warm lips pressed gentle kisses up the curve of your shoulder and to your temple.

“Good morning, honey girl.”

You smiled turning to meet the bright green eyes of Jake Seresin.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly, turning so that you faced him. His head was propped up against his hand as the other one traced up and down your side. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I figured you’d be sick of me by now.”

“Sick of you?” He chuckled, shaking his head, leaning forward to meet you in a lazy kiss before pulling back. “I’ll never get sick of you, pretty girl.”

“So,” you hummed, glancing at him slyly. “What’s next?”

“Well,” he began, smirking lightly. “I figured we’d get dressed, and we’d go downstairs so I could make you breakfast, and then we have a repeat of last night.”

“Is that all you want?” you asked him quietly, insecurity rearing its ugly head as he spoke. His smirk dropped into a frown, and he shook his head.

“No,” he stated firmly, looking at you seriously. “No, Scout. I meant what I said. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. I intend to make an honest woman out of you if you’ll have me.”

You smiled at his words, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

“I suppose you’ll do,” you smirked, earning a chuckle from the blond.

“You’re such a tease,” he admonished, leaning in to press his lips to yours. You opened your mouth to him, letting him stroke your tongue with his in easy strokes.

“Jake!”

The two of you jumped as you heard the front door slam shut, Bradley’s voice carrying up the stairs. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to get out of bed, searching for some article of clothing to throw on to preserve your modesty.

“Jake, I know you’re in here. I need your help!”

Jake cursed from the other side of the bed, throwing his trousers and shirt on as you threw your chemise over your head just as Bradley burst through the door. Jake scowled at him, moving to shield your body with his.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” He snapped, glaring up at the brunette. Bradley rolled his eyes, giving you an apologetic smile.

“Hey, Scout,” he greeted briefly before turning his attention back to Jake. “Look, I’m glad that the two of you have made up, but this is serious. I need your help to wrangle the group.”

“What’s going on? Did Javy sleep with someone’s wife again?” Jake scowled, watching you as you moved to put more clothing on. “If you hadn’t guessed, I’m kind of busy, and Javy is a big boy. He can take care of his own messes.”

Bradley shook his head. “It’s not Javy, it’s Bob.”

Jake and you became more alert at that, eyes shooting up to look at Bradley as he stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

“What do you mean?” Jake questioned, scrambling to put his boots on.

“Some men down at the saloon were saying some pretty nasty shit to Bunny, and Bob stepped in. That’s when I came to get you ‘cause I knew it was about to get nasty, and I need all the help I can get.”

“Shit,” Jake muttered, turning to look at you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, giving you a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I need you to stay here, honey girl.”

“What?” You frowned, shaking your head. “No, I’m coming with you.”

“Scout, please,” he pleaded, looking at you with furrowed brows. “This could get ugly, and I’d feel a lot better knowing that you are here at home. Safe. Will you please just do this for me?”

You regarded him for a moment, nodding finally, and Jake let out a relieved sigh. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before turning to follow Bradley out the door. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

He disappeared down the hall, and a few moments later you heard the front door slam shut once more. You sighed, looking around the room before deciding to strip your sheets. It took you a few minutes to gather all of them, placing them in the basket by the door and moving with it downstairs. You placed the basket by the back door, eyeing the kitchen before shaking your head.

“Ridiculous,” you muttered, making for the front door. You walked briskly down the road and towards the saloon where a small crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, earning jeers and curses from the people around you. Just as you made your way to the front of the crowd, your heart dropped, ice chilling your bones. You saw Marshal Simpson slam Jake up against the side of the saloon, cuffing his hands behind his back. Jake winced at the rough treatment, Simpson hauling him back so roughly that he stumbled a ways, glaring back at the older man.

“Is this all really necessary?” Jake drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone as Simpson scowled.

“Yes,” the marshal snapped, pushing Jake forward as they began to walk. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he moved, eyes landing on you, softening. He paused in front of you, and you felt the tears begin to stream down your face.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he whispered, glancing back at Simpson who glanced between the two of you. “Everything is going to be alright, yeah? Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll be out as a free man before you know it.”

“You shouldn’t lie to her, Hangman,” Simpson said, casting you a sympathetic look. “We all know that this is the end of the line for you.”

Jake frowned at his words, moving to say something before Marshal Simpson pushed him forward towards the town jail. Jake cast looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a tight smile before being ushered through the doors.

Your eyes scanned the street for anyone who might be able to help, but you didn’t see any of the other Daggers as the crowd began to disperse. You felt despair and hopelessness fill you. You had been so close to happiness, and you knew in your heart that Jake was a different man from the one the marshal was sent to track down.

Your eyes continued to rove over the townsfolk before landing on a familiar face. The pit in your stomach dropped, terror gripping at you as your breath came out in short gasps. Black, bottomless eyes stared right at you, a malicious grin on Isaac’s face as he watched you. You choked back a scream as he tipped his hat to you, and a wave of realization hit you.

This had been a setup, a trap. Isaac had planned this, and he had set the Dagger Posse up to be arrested. As far as you knew, Jake was the only one that had been caught, but that would have been enough for the man who stood on the opposite side of the street. You gathered your skirts and ran in the opposite direction, desperate to get away from the evil man. You had to find the other Daggers. You had to find Maverick or Tom. Someone had to have a plan on how to get Jake out of this mess.

You rounded a building off of the main street, leaning against it and sinking to the ground. You let the tears flow freely, the sense of helplessness overtaking you as you realized just how much trouble Jake was in. Even if you managed to get him out, there was no guarantee that it would be legally or without injury to someone, and yet you were determined to try.

You had just had a taste of what it would be like to lose Jake, and the thought alone sent another wave of tears rolling down your cheek. No. No, you would not lose him again. You scrubbed at your eyes, putting on a brave face as you stood. Squaring your shoulders, you glanced around to find you were alone. You made your way back, heading for Maverick and Penny’s home.

Someone would have a plan, and you were bound and determined to help.

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