#It's such a stubborn reminder one perfect night's not enough
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It's just a constant headache, a tooth out of line
They try to make you regret it
You tell 'em, "No, not this time."
It's just a constant headache, a dead pet device
You hang me up unfinished
With the better part of me no longer mine
#me#music#tigers jaw#Joyce manor#constant headache#It's such a stubborn reminder one perfect night's not enough#love this cover#Spotify
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Hi! Can you make yandere head canons for miguel o'hara? I'm curious what kind of yandere he will be ;-;
Yandere!Miguel O’Hara Hcs
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ What it’s like having Miguel as a Yandere, welcome to the life.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Reminder! This is DARK CONTENT!! Thank you for the request! I may have gotten carried away with it… I also feel like this is more of a little fic than hcs, I’m sorry if it appears that way!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, DARK CONTENT, stalking, toxic relationship, controlling, death, blood, power imbalance, tracking, baby trapping…
Dark content under the cut. MDNI 18+
If you are an employee at his business, Miguel can be/is controlling and delusional.
Controlling people is easy for him, he owns a business, and quite a large one.
So, in the beginning, of course he’s in denial. But he wasn’t going to deny the affection you gave him. You just offered him a drink. He wasn’t going to deny your attention. He collapsed before a meeting.
Because of this, you became more affectionate. In reality, you were just worried about Miguel, you couldn’t sleep at night unless you knew he was taking care of himself, which is why Miguel issued you a watch. Lyla was built into i2t and it gave you access to Miguel whenever.
What you clearly didn’t know was that there was a tracker built into it, and Lyla kept tabs on you as well, per Miguel’s request.
It was all harmless, he just needed to know where you were 24/7. The location of your apartment, friends’ houses, favorite shops or cafes. Everything about you.
But one day, randomly, he thought back to the people he lost. He worked so hard for you, he couldn’t dare lose you.
Slowly, Miguel confined you to work at home. Then came the random visits so he could check up on you, but he was getting a good look at your apartment. Which room is what? Where’s the bathroom? First-aid… Things like that.
Then comes the stalking. The man has all the connections he needs to get what he wants. It’s easy for him to have people watch you, and if they aren’t good enough, then he’ll have to do it himself.
Which is why Spider-Man is always coming around when you’re in trouble, almost like he knows what’s going to happen. You didn’t find it strange, he’s Spider-Man. He should be everywhere and keep everyone safe.
It’s all harmless, it’s not like he’s purposely leading bad guys to you so he can save you, having you believe Spider-Man will always be there for you. Which is an ego boost for him, a very big one.
But your day became hell when Miguel promoted you to his personal assistant. It was from then on that he stayed in his office almost the entire day and you were there with him, running files, altering him of meetings, you had to keep him organized and on schedule. With his stubbornness, it was impossible.
It was like he was purposely giving you the wrong papers which made you look like a fool in front of everyone. Which ruined your reputation within the business. A once proudful, one time, and perfect employee is now screwing up simple numbers.
Which then leads you to talk about it with Miguel, he became your support system.
But being your shoulder to cry on wasn’t enough for him. But having you by his side, tabs on you, knowing your location… It will settle the dust, but not for long.
He’s going to start craving for more and more,
When you get into a relationship with him, he can become violent. But not directly at you, he’ll be punching walls, throwing objects as a way of controlling.
Making you second guess your choices of words. He’s jealous and highly possessive, manipulative and overly affectionate.
There will be days where he’d ignore you then a few hours later, he comes in with your favorite flowers and all doting on you.
“You must understand why I am hard on you, because everything I do, I do it for you.”
He wants you to know that you’re the only one who’s perfect for him and the other way around. So when an insect comes crawling into your life and putting thoughts into your minds, he has no other choice but to get his hands bloody.
He prefers slow and painful rather than quick and harmless. He wants the insect to know the pain of how hard it was to convince you that they were wrong. He might keep torturing them for a couple days before he’s done with them.
Whether it be a stranger, acquaintance, sibling(s), best friend, or parent(s)… Doesn’t matter who they are, they have no right to voice their opinions because his relationship with you is golden, perfect.
Even more when he finds the discarded pregnancy test, all his hard work and he’s finally getting rewarded. A dream he wished for, a family he desired for.
He finally has you where he wants you to be. Alone, scared, and confused. You swear that you were taking your birth control. He switched it out. Even with a plan B he gave. It wasn’t a plan B.
He has you scared, worrying about how you were going to take care of a baby without him, but of course, here comes his facade. He’s comforting you, letting you know that he’s happy with the result, and he knows that you didn’t mean to trap him. He trapped you.
He’s got his wish, and he ain’t letting that go.
Everything is supposed to be.
Yet there always has to be something screwing up his plans.
Even if you do run away and think that there’s no way for him to find you, he’s already at the hotel. Did you forget? How could you?
Like before, Miguel has connections and not only that, he’s Spider-Man. He’s going to convince you that it’s best to return because the baby needs both parents, no matter how shitty the relationship the parents have with each other.
What else should you do? Get married! Better now than later. Invite friends and family, who aren’t dead yet, to come join you and your husband on your happiest day of your life.
Locked down to a man who controls every aspect of your life. A man who will kill anyone who dares to say otherwise because they have no brain, until like him.
He knows what’s best for you, no matter what anyone else says.
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#dark content#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#spider man x you#spider man x reader#spiderman x you#spider man 2099#spiderman#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman x y/n
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Change of Heart
hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 5
previous part
tw: violence, blood, heavy angst, abuse, PLEASE be warned <3
When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.
Day eight came easy, as did day nine.
Simon would stick around for as long as he could, but it was enough to satiate the linger of loneliness you felt when he was absent. He’d spend time in your apartment, stealing the leftover pastries you had from day seven of your deal where he’d confessed to wanting to get to know you more than just the weakling client that had hopes of dying.
Waking up on day ten, you woke up to a text from him, saying he’d be busy until further notice, but would stop by to see you when he could.
It was nice, having him let you know rather than leaving you wondering. He knew it would provide a comfort of knowing he was still around and had all intentions of seeing you make it to the finish line.
Just the thought of him beginning to learn your comforts was enough to have your heart running marathons and your cheeks aching with a never ending smile. You hadn’t felt giddy over another being in a long time, and the butterflies in your stomach had been withering for so long that when they found life again, it was an explosion of ticklish vibration. Their wings wisped away the growing dust that had begun to build, and eased away the prickling coldness to replace it with an earthy warmth.
Like the previous days, work was spent with joyful courage and building anticipation. The change in attitude was obvious to everyone around you, and no one dared to disrupt your craft when you buried yourself in it. You worked tirelessly to create the perfect mix of pastries in hopes of taking them home one day and gifting some to Simon during one of his visits.
Things finally felt as if they were falling into place, and for the first time, you could say you were happy. Whether Simon remained a friend or carried into something more, only time would tell, but you felt satisfied with his existence either way.
Even as your body ached in every joint as you finally closed up shop and began your travel home for the night, you somehow felt light on your feet with every step. There were no heavy weights anchoring you to the pavement, no drag of your shoes along the gritty gravel, and there was certainly no anxiety spouting in your chest like a wildfire.
You felt at peace.
It was a lovely feeling to revel in after such a long time spent in isolation and imprisonment. Freeing, even, to no longer have bars and chains linking your mind to all the troubles that settled inside like a shitty tenant that refused to leave when unwanted.
Simon saw something in you that you hadn’t before, and it was slowly unmasking itself, no longer fearful of the light.
Gliding up the stairs to your apartment, your eyes instinctively searched for Simon before reminding yourself that he wouldn’t be making it tonight. But when they landed on the door, where it was slightly cracked open with barely a sliver of dim light passing through into the hallway, your first thought was that he was there to surprise you. He had gotten his, ah, work done early and let himself in while you were at work.
You ignored the alarms going off in your head that were desperately trying to remind you that Simon no longer went into your apartment on his own accord. He’d started to wait outside for you, leaned up against the wall like a form of security until you got home.
Your racing heart won over the voices in your head, and the eagerness to get inside and see Simon once again for another nightly ritual of watching him smoke while you talked about your day took over all warning signs.
Entering your apartment, you pushed open the door, stepping inside and locking the door behind you. Your eyes searched for the familiar mass that always took up the whole room, and when you saw it hunched over the kitchen counter, facing away from you, you brightened.
“Simon!” you greeted cheerfully, but when Simon’s head snapped up to look at you, you froze.
Simon certainly didn’t have a head of hair for you to openly admire. He didn’t have an unmasked face that showed off thin lips pulled into a threatening sneer.
Your mind completely blanked when you saw the man impersonating Simon. No, he wasn’t impersonating – because he could never be Simon. He could only ever be the person who you’d drag down to hell with you and throw into the pit of flames to watch his sick soul burn into ash.
“Simon, huh?” That voice, filled with nothing but venom that dripped from his tongue and spat out to your face. It could melt you into a puddle of sticky goo mixed with flesh and blood the way it expelled from his lips. It was the voice that filled your nightmares, that forced you into a cold sweat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, eyes staring at the ceiling with burning tears and a heavy, broken heart.
The very man you’d run away from, who you’d cried to Simon about when life felt like it had run its course, was standing right in your kitchen, hand tightly gripped on to the napkin Simon had given you days ago with his number and doodle of a skull.
Your ex-boyfriend was somebody you never expected to see again, nor did you ever want to see him, not in your worst dreams. He was the reason you had gotten to the point of hiring Simon when he was Ghost, planning on paying him with all your hard-earned money just so he could kill you and you would be free of being trapped in a hellish life.
Yet here he was in the flesh, nothing but pure, unfiltered rage burning in those dark irises of his.
“Finally found you after all this time, just to find out you’re fucking somebody else,” he tsked, glancing at the napkin in his grasp before up at you. He looked downright sinister, the way he grinned at you. It was full of pointy teeth that bared at you in warning. “What did I always tell you I wanted?”
Your feet felt as if they were in quicksand, pinning you to the floor, leaving you immobile. All you could do was gape at him like a fish out of water.
“Loyalty,” he answered for you, spitting the word out with the burn of a thousand fires. “But you haven’t been loyal, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
It made your stomach turn when he called you it. Coming from Simon, it was coated in endearment, soft and sweet, like icing on a damn cake. But from your ex-boyfriend, it was littered with splintering daggers that tore into the surface of your flesh, cutting you open and wringing you dry.
It wasn’t right. That was Simon’s name for you. Only Simon’s.
“I’ll remind you who the fuck you belong to if that’s what has to happen,” he taunted, and when he took the first step forward, that’s when your feet willed you to move.
Everything happened so quickly, it felt like you were in a timelapse.
One moment, you’re paralyzed as you stared the face of your nightmares in the eye, and the next, you’re bolting. You practically threw yourself in the bathroom, locking the door and pressing your back against it. He preyed on you like a lion to an antelope, hounding on you the second he saw the shift of your body language.
Infuriated fists pounded on the door, livid feet kicked at the weak frame. His shouts filled the air with a crippling sense of dread, and you realized there was no way out of this.
Just like your mind had been all this time, you were trapped, imprisoned in a cage of misery, clawing at the bars with failed attempts to release yourself.
Your body jolted with every bloodthirsty smash into the door, the wood slapping and shuddering at each brutal hit. Your hands shook in staggering distress as you fumbled for your phone that laid stuffed in the pocket of your jeans, and it took multiple feverish tries before it was tugged from its confinement.
Swiping it unlocked, you found Simon’s contact, not sparing a single moment before slamming the call button.
The call rang. And rang. And rang.
The dial tone engulfed your body with calamity. The air in your lungs felt littered with toxics, extracting all of the oxygen out and leaving you suffocating. Sweat leaked from your neck and forehead, leaving you with a sheen of brooding panic.
The bathroom was closing in on you, and it only felt smaller and smaller the more he beat your door in.
You tried calling Simon again. And again. Each time, the ringing echoed in your ears, worming its way in your brain and infesting you with the realization that he wasn’t picking up.
He wasn’t coming. He wasn’t going to save you. He wasn’t going to see you take your final laps around the track, nor was he going to watch you race over that desired finish line of triumph and success.
He wasn’t going to be the one to kill you like all was intended in the first place.
Your ex-boyfriend was going to take away everything new, just like he had taken away the identity you wore before.
Your phone clattered out of your hand and slid across the tiled floor until it hit the side of the bathtub when the door finally gave in, the lock making a sickening snap when it burst out of the hinges.
You were pushed forward with aggression as he shoved past the doorway, allowing himself free access in the small place you chose as your temporary safety net. That net was thrown off of you, leaving you exposed to the imposing danger that was destined to come your way.
Your ex-boyfriend was shouting profanities at you, but all you heard was a dull ringing as your mind fully checked out, leaving you in a paralyzing daze. His mouth moved, but made no sound, and you watched with an empty stare the way the venom pooled out in a frothing foam around his lips.
The first hit sent you staggering on your feet. You lost your balance, crumpling into a heap on the floor. Then the second came. Then the third.
The relentless abuse kept coming, battering your body black and blue, staining your skin with a sticky red.
During the entire display of violence and bitter authority, your mind began to replay your times with Simon. His lovely, baritone voice filled the emptiness in your head with a soft lullaby that lured you far away from the virulent aggression being hissed in your face between every ferocious strike.
It distracted you from the strain on your mind and being. It turned you away from the damage, disengaging you from temptations to open your eyes and take a look at what was in front of you.
It was enough to leave you unsure of how long the dispute went on. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours. All you know is that when your body was on the brink of full blown collapse, teetering on that edge with your feet grasping for stability so you wouldn’t lose balance and pummel right off of the cliff and into the endless abyss, that was when he decided to stop.
That was it. He didn’t want to kill you, because he wanted you to suffer.
This was his subtle reminder that you ran from him, and it came to bite back at you. You were never free in the first place, only granted a brief time away from solitary before he came roaring back with his teeth sunken into your neck, stalking his prey down when the time was right.
With one last attempt to push you into a freefall over that cliff, he crouched in front of you, head tilted as he sneered at the bloody sight of you.
“If I find you being disloyal again, I’m going to let you fucking die next time,” he muttered with distaste, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.
He stood, unsparing of another glance before he left you in the bathroom on the cold, mucky floor, making sure to slam your front door shut to leave it rattling your eardrums.
You didn’t move an inch. Surely, you could’ve mustered up the strength to crawl back on your feet and clean yourself up in the sink. You were stronger than this. Simon was teaching you that.
But you didn’t.
It was hours that you laid there, or at least that was what it felt like. Time moved tirelessly slow when you were a broken version of yourself, glued to the tiles like your body wanted to mold itself into them.
It wasn’t until the sound of the front door being opened did you spark the courage to shift your head, eyes drifting towards its general direction.
The mass that you thought was Simon earlier was here. Except this time, it really was Simon. There was no mistaking the balaclava with a hand painted skull on the mouth, or the way he had to lightly duck under the doorway so as not to hit the very top of his head.
Simon was calculated in his movements, throwing himself to the open bathroom in which you laid. He was panting as if he had run all the way to your apartment. Your tired eyes watched the way his chest rose and fell in an erratic pattern, the view of it coming closer as he scurried to you.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed out as he crouched next to you. The sound of the nickname coming from his mouth rather than your ex-boyfriend’s was like music to your ears. “Fuck, m’so sorry, m’so sorry.”
He ripped the gloves off his hands in order to cradle your head in them, his skin warm to the touch and offering a temporary relief to the cold chill that rattled you to the bones from lying on the cool tile. He inspected every inch of you, taking in the bloodshot redness that infested your eyes, the blood that caked and crusted your nose and mouth, the swelling of your cheeks that made you resemble a pufferfish.
His eyes were filled with pain and regret, but behind that, a fire burned. It was faint, embers burning slowly and mixing with fresh ash, but it was there. And it was angry.
Simon was gentle with the way he carefully eased your body up so you were sitting flush against the sink cabinets, shoulders slouched and head bobbing sluggishly. He rummaged through the small bathroom closet, quick to fish out a clean washcloth and run it under the faucet before returning back to you.
His touch was delicate as he attentively cleaned off the mess from your face. Red stained white cotton, and the sight of it made you queasy.
“You didn’t answer,” you whispered, words burning your throat with a sharp dryness that you tried swallowing away.
Simon froze, his hands pausing its notions across your skin. It stayed there, hand slightly shaking with a burning sense of penitence.
“I–”
“You didn’t answer,” you repeated. You were choked up, surely beaten down from the lacerating corruption to your own body. “I called you. You didn’t answer.”
Simon sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flickering over yours. He could see the emptiness in your pupils, void of everything he’d seen you work so hard to restore.
There was nothing. It was hollow.
“M’sorry, sweetheart. You have no idea how sorry I am, I should’ve looked at the phone, I should’ve checked to make sure you got home,” he rambled, words thick with a heavy layer of guilt.
You shouldn’t be angry with him. Hell, Simon should be the last person you were angry with. After all, he had been the one to pick up the pieces of your shattered being when he had no reason to. He had been the one to pick friendship over compromise when you first hired him to kill you.
You shouldn’t be angry with him.
But right now, you wished he had just pulled the damn trigger when you first told him to.
“Why didn’t you just let me die?” you wailed. Your resolve was cracking more than it already was, leaving you exposed to nothing but pure pain. “Why didn’t you just kill me?”
Simon said nothing, and he allowed you to bubble out snotty tears and crushing cries. He wiped every tear away with the washcloth, swiping gently over your skin and absorbing all of the evidence of your tribulation. He let you break, he let the rubber band snap into two, even if it meant stinging him in the process.
He didn’t stop, not even when your tears ran dry and your body slumped in exhaustion, forehead planted on the plain of his shoulder.
Simon was fighting an inner battle himself. Where he saw a woman he felt compelled to protect, he saw the man who had failed to fulfill it.
He didn’t know why you were different from the others. He was a man with a life path full of gruesome roads that were littered with bloodshed and other people’s torment. He didn’t attach himself to people, and he had made his own promise to himself that he’d keep an arm’s length from anybody willing to see through him.
That didn’t stop him from seeking you out.
What he saw in you, he saw in himself. Deep inside, he saw the broken, little boy he was that had never received proper love. He saw the boy that everybody turned a blind eye to, who pretended to not see his suffering.
You were a mirror he looked into every time he found himself around you, and it was a mirror he didn’t want to watch explode into millions of tiny shards.
Simon might not have been able to save himself, but he could save you. He could stop you from becoming what he was, and that was exactly why he allowed himself the one, single chance to slip into your life.
The fire that brewed in his eyes had now become a full, raging forest fire, burning everything in its wake. It fueled with the burn of anger and rancor, festering through the optic nerve and burrowing itself in the lobe of his brain.
That bloodthirsty fervor crept its way through his veins.
The color in his vision turned red.
Simon told himself he would protect you. And if that meant hunting down the prey posed as a predator, then he’d go to the ends of the earth to make it happen at the power of his own bloody hands.
posting this at almost 1am when i gotta be at work at 5am but i was itching to let the juices flow so have another chapter <3 thank you to my lovelies who helped me brainstorm ideas for this chapter, i love y'all
#cod#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod mw3#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod fanfic#hitman au#ghost simon riley#ghost#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader
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Withered
Beautiful Adult Neteyam photo by the wonderful @cinetrix
Pairing: Alpha Neteyam x Beta Fem Omatikaya Reader
Synopsis: You and Neteyam have opposite lives. He thrives in the daylight of possibilities while you are forced to the shadows. You are sure that the right course of action would be letting the future Olo'eyktan go. Neteyam is less convinced.
Based on a request from my 🥔 anon
Warnings: aged up characters, aged up neteyam, angst, health problems, explicit smut, dirty talk, crying, miscommunication, p in v, virgin reader, first time, omegaverse, alpha/beta relationship dynamic, heat, sickness, 18+ only MDNI
Tanhi: star/little star I Yawne: beloved I Sevin: pretty I Mawey: calm
A/N: I can't tell you all enough how grateful I am for the hype and many comments that have been around this story just from that small sneak peek I posted. This ended up being a lot longer than I ever anticipated but I had a blast writing it. Please let me know what you think. I love hearing from y'all!
For many the sun is a symbol of warmth, peace, and solace. The bright rays enwrap Na’vi of all ages in the glow of Eywa’s love. The rise of morning light represents a new day, another chance for adventure and possibilities. When the illuminating glow of yellow sunshine transforms into streaks of vibrant purples and pinks, it indicates a time for families to come together and tuck in for the night.
However, for you, your day truly begins at the first glow of bioluminescence. Eclipse is your time to explore the world.
You were born with an almost unheard of disease. It only took a few days of your infant body breaking out into abnormal rashes for Tsahik to realize something was wrong. Exposure of more than a few minutes to sunshine causes detrimental effects to your body. For this reason, you are forced to avoid the vibrant glow of the sun.
From that moment on you have lived your life almost nocturnally. On lucky days the clouds protect you from the harmful UV rays. Rain has come to be your favorite weather as it allows you an escape from your hut.
Despite these difficulties you have always strived to remain positive. You thank your parents for their gracious attitudes that inspire you to look for the silver lining in all situations. Sure you can not sunbathe or prowl the forest during sunny days but no one knows the forest at Eclipse as well as you do. Your knowledge has come in handy more than a few times, being asked to guide night hunts with some of the most notorious warriors in the clan.
This is where you met Neteyam.
The firstborn of the infamous Toruk Makto and your future Olo’eyktan, you originally assumed he would have no interest in interacting with you. You knew him from afar, hearing the word spread of his kindness and diligence when it came to helping those around him. His alpha status only served to bring a larger gaggle of girls practically falling at his feet. As a beta and suffering from a rare condition, you naturally took yourself out of the run up. You were confident he would choose some sweet and knowledgeable omega that would be the perfect tsahik.
However, your assumptions quickly crumbled as he progressively paid attention to you more and more throughout these night hunts. Instead of joining the rest of the alpha warriors gathering to share a strong drink after a successful kill, he would opt to check in with you. You were shy at first, unsure of how to act around such an influential member of the clan. However, there was something about those golden orbs and soft smile that quickly set you at ease.
You still remember the first time you had sustained a small injury during these hunts. It was nothing more than a shallow slash to your forearm, but Neteyam had insisted on carefully wrapping it himself. You gushed over him like an idiot, reminding him that it was unnecessary but he showed his stubborn side that day.
At first you thought it was your own overactive imagination noticing the frequency of night hunts he signed up for increase, but eventually it had become every single night. No matter how boned-tired he was from a day of full Olo’eyktan training, he would beam at the sight of your small form. His scent was something that seemed to constantly enrapture your senses. The heavy essence of pine and hormonal swings was so much stronger than yours. It took some getting used to. The first few nights you were bashful to come home and find evidence of your arousal dampening your loincloth.
Still, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that you had to live with. It took weeks for you to even consider the possibility of Neteyam showing interest in you. He had been consistent in bringing you out of your shell, getting you to talk about everything from your family to the fondest hope and dreams in your heart. Oftentimes he would stay back behind after the hunt to help you join him sitting on an overarching thick branch (you were grateful for the darkness of eclipse that hid your blush each time he effortlessly hoisted you up with large hands gently holding your waist) and chat away into the night.
It was only when the gifts began that you gave these interactions a second thought. It had started small with simple flowers and fruits he had encountered throughout the day. However, they slowly became more intricate. The first time he brought you a small woven bracelet of sparkling gems, you had been gobsmacked.
“Like the night sky. The only thing appropriate for my tanhi.” He had said, making you almost choke on your own spit. Tahni- little star: a nickname he had coined for you after the first week. A fitting term for someone that only knew the night sky. Still, it was the first time he had ever called you his. The terminology was not lost on you.
When the sun arose once more and you had retired back to your protected hut, those words had kept you up, your small fingers twiddling with the bracelet.
Taking your acceptance of the small gift, Neteyam had become even more bold with his courting. Before you knew it he was bringing a meal with him for you before every hunt. You had tried to decline the thoughtful gesture but he would not take no for an answer.
“Someone has to make sure you eat, tanhi.”
There was no fighting the alpha on this, so you graciously took the meals each night. He smiled proudly as you moaned in satisfaction of the carefully seasoned meat he had killed and prepared for you. Another testament to the mighty warrior and beneficial mate he is.
You started to think that the eldest Sully was simply a flirt, or perhaps such a kind person that his actions came off as romantic. However, there was one instance that finally tipped you to accepting his affections. It was a particularly successful hunt, dragging home a thanator, when he had slowed down to your pace. Talking about anything and everything under the night sky, your breath was practically stolen from your lungs when he reached out to tuck a strand of your dark hair behind your ear.
However innocent the gesture was, it was the lingering of his hand running down your neck that caused your heart to bash against your rib cage violently. A simple brush that had left his scent to coalesce with yours. An essence that would keep other suitors away. Out of habit, you mentally went to play it off as a simple accident, but the crooked smirk plastered across his face did not allow you. There was a primal satisfaction seated in those golden orbs, one that caused a pool of arousal to gather in your core.
He knew what he had done.
Neteyam was proud of it.
His affection was untethered from that point forward. Accidental brushes of fingers had turned into blatant hand holding. The alpha never missed an opportunity to press a warm hand to the small of your back, guiding you through the terrain, or wrap an arm around your waist in order to steady you when walking over uneven forest floor.
“What kind of alpha would I be if I let you get hurt?”
He had spoken in response to your inquiry, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
Falling for Neteyam was easy. Too easy. It was keeping yourself back from jumping into his arms or melting into his embraces that was difficult. No matter how strange and suggestive his behavior had been, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, there was no saying what he got up to during the day. For all you knew he could be taking omegas out every day and weaving sweet gifts for them too.
So you had decided to do what was best for everyone and take yourself out of the situation before something embarrassing could happen. You declined the request to accompany the hunting party and instead went to spend some more time with your family. If your parents noticed the difference in your appearance they did not show it. They were always good at giving you space, respecting your independence as an adult (although your mother did go out of her way to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way to express her understanding and love). Neither of them knew about Neteyam at the time, it was easier that way.
This fact only heightened their surprise when they saw Toruk Makto’s eldest son approaching their small gathering. You can still remember the intent gaze that Neteyam pierced you with. Your heart hammered out of your chest, hands fidgeting with the moss beneath you nervously. Neteyam signaled the traditional greeting to your parents before respectfully asking your father if he could borrow you for a moment.
They were caught off guard, your dad turning back to send you a curious look, but naturally neither wanted to decline the Omatikaya prince.
Once the two of you were finally alone, Neteyam immediately sprang into action. He grabbed your biceps and used that hold to turn you from side to side as he scanned your form. His intense inspection had blood rushing to your cheeks.
“Neteyam, what are you doing? I thou-”
“Where are you injured?” You twitched when he reached a hand out to inspect your flicking tail too. Confusion swarmed within you. You had sputtered and struggled to put together a full sentence.
“It has been three days, Tanhi. I blew one day off as exhaustion or a fluke and the second as pure coincidence but surely only an injury would keep you away from the hunt for three days.” His eyes finally met yours again when there was no wound to be found. His tall frame had towered over yours as he reached out to cup your cheek.
That familiar warmth and adoration you had for him had returned within an instant.
You stepped back, successfully out of his grasp.
“I’m fine.” You replied simply.
His tail swatted in the humid air and those golden orbs had squinted into slits. The focused attention of that look full of suspicion was enough to hold you down to your spot. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as you tried desperately to keep the fidgeting at bay. It was one of the few times you were grateful to be beta because surely an omega would shrivel under the pressure of his looming presence.
“I don’t like when you lie to me, Tahni. Now tell me why I’ve had to go without my little star for three whole days.” Neteyam placed his hands sternly upon his hips, ears twitching forward as if preparing to take in your explanation. An explanation that you felt could not be shared. Doing so was bound to undermine your plans, completely destroying the efforts that had been made.
“The group seems to be more than sufficient without my guidance.” You don’t dare to meet his eyes, your own orbs trained at the ground instead. In a moment’s notice his sculpted body was once again inches away from yours. His warmth came off of him in waves, along with the heady aura of alpha pheromones.
You couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran down your spine when he placed heavy hands on your shoulders and bent over your frame till you could feel his calm breath against your ear. Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh. A part of your brain told you to run, understanding the alluring danger that awaited you, while the other yearned to curl up against his impressive physique.
You couldn’t understand how any omega managed to be around this male without completely dropping to their knees.
Suddenly you had some sympathy for the girls that had always fawned over him.
“Tell me the truth, sevin.” The heated words tickled at your ears and made your heart skip a beat. It was foolish to think that there was any chance of lying to Neteyam, the mighty warrior that walked with the confidence of the supernatural.
So you did.
You had scrambled to messily explain how it would be best if the two of you spent less time together. Unfortunately this unrehearsed synopsis included an approach that painted yourself as the foolish beta with a crush on the Omatikaya prince and therefore unable to handle herself around him. It was not the perspective you had hoped for, but it was the only one that could have been presented in your state of jumbled thought.
Neteyam shook his head, an almost fond smile upon his lips.
“Tanhi, you really do not like to make things easy for me.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. The sound put you slightly on edge but there was no trace of anger in his expression. Amusement was easily perceivable in the raise of his hairless eyebrows. He had taken your humiliating and pathetic explanation in stride, in fact, he had found humor in it.
“I thought I’ve made myself clear.” You were swooped into the encirclement of his arms in one quick motion. You squeaked and braced yourself against the warm muscles of his abdomen. “You are the mate I seek.”
His words had thrown you into a spiral, your heartstrings plucking into rhythms of heightened emotion. It was almost too much to take in. A part of you still found security in denying these bold claims but there had been too much evidence at that point. Neteyam Sully had in fact been courting you.
His head lowered, nuzzling at your face until you finally looked up at him. Your lips were only a breath apart.
“If you’ll have me.” Neteyam whispered.
There was no fighting the longings of your heart at that rate. That night you had agreed to his courting and within a month the two of you had been madly in love and preparing to officially mate.
The process was faster, seemingly faster than anything else in your life. Night had always slowed you down from progressing in the normal rhythm of Na’vi milestones, but Neteyam had broken that pattern for you.
You can still remember the vivid sensation of his tendrils connecting with your own. Those sparks of electricity that had created a direct line to his innermost feelings and thoughts. There was great solace to be found in the surging feelings of love and adoration he had for you, something you had been able to tap into. Still, nothing could ever compare with the way you felt for Neteyam.
He’s your world. Your light. Your sun.
Being with him feels like finally having a taste of those golden rays. You can see it in his smile. In the shake of his shoulders when his laughter trickles from soft lips. In the unashamed sparkle that overtakes his eyes in a coating whenever they land on you after a long day of training.
Neteyam has become your world in only a matter of a few months. It is hard to imagine how you went so many years without this unbreakable connection between the two of you. Each night you wake up to the warm embrace of your mate who has come home from a long day of training. Soft kisses are placed along your eyelids, cheeks, and nose until your thick lashes flutter and you regain consciousness.
The searing envious looks of other females can be felt at your back when the two of you join the rest of the clan for dinner each night, but it is only white noise in the presence of your handsome mate guiding you with a hand to the small of your back. In fact it becomes less than a passing memory when Neteyam goes on to share the events of the day in great detail, usually pulling out a tucked away gift he has found for you along the trails of his adventures.
There is so much hidden beneath that emanating exterior of perfection that Neteyam upholds. He strips away those layers only for you, usually among the flowering meadow the two of you lay in while stargazing. The stories often end with your mate trailing off into a groggy murmur until the air fills with the sounds of his sleeping breaths. You prefer to stay tucked against him for a while longer, letting the moment last before you must wake him and shoo the mighty warrior back home for some much needed rest.
While he sleeps you venture from the hut to forage and hunt, although Neteyam prefers to accompany you during dangerous hunts. You decide that what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. He is known to be an overprotective alpha anyway. Once food has been secured and your adventures have come to a close, you slip back into the darkened hut before the first break of dawn. Those specially made thick curtains are the difference between life and death for you.
Although the tent has been sufficient for years, Neteyam continues to add to its layers. He is constantly worrying about the vulnerabilities of the hut, convinced that one slip could bring catastrophic consequences to his mate. So he works with his father to constantly rebuild and strengthen the exterior walls. There are times where you remind him of how unnecessary these actions are but Neteyam is undeterred by these conversations. So you let your mate continue his projects. If it brings him peace of mind to obsess over the structure then it must be doing some good.
Things are great for the first month. Nothing sexual occurs during those first few weeks of being newly mated, out of respect to you. There is no denying that Neteyam has had experience in the ways of pleasuring females but you on the other hand have never been close to intimate with someone else. As a couple you decide to take things slow. However, you can not help but admire the restraint Neteyam shows when you catch the shift of his pheromones into that of lust or see the tightness of his loincloth after a particularly long make out session.
Were it any other alpha you are sure that the time would have come for him to become impatient and work towards persuading you to go further with him. However, Neteyam knows that you are shy and nervous. He puts your needs before his own and constantly assures you that he is happy to wait so long as you feel comfortable when the time is right.
Your apprehension has slowly been melting away. The soft caresses that travel along your form sends a burning thrill that is exotic to you. Moments where you are brave enough to straddle his lap while kissing, the friction of his groin against your core is electric. These new feelings have been quickly festering and building inside of you. The nerves have slowly morphed into alluring curiosity. It has been becoming harder to hold back.
For this reason, you’ve decided to tell Neteyam tonight that you are ready. Finally, the bond created through tsaheylu will be strengthened and confirmed by the intertwining of each other’s bodies.
The last hints of sunshine have disappeared behind the moon. This time you wake before Neteyam has a chance to come wake you up himself. The nerves that bundle into a coil in your stomach have kept you from sleeping in so you decide to seek him out yourself. It shouldn’t be long till he is back from an exhibition with Jake.
The village is lively with reuniting families after a prosperous day of duties. It's a familiar sight that has always brought a warmth to your heart, especially that of small children running to their mothers or fathers with grabby hands. There are times where you imagine sending your own child to wobble excitedly towards Neteyam, spun through the air by the mighty warrior that you are lucky enough to call your mate.
High in the trees, hidden by the walls of a family hut you hear the familiar voice of Lo’ak. A smile tugs at your lips, confident that Neteyam is sure to be with his brother. However, that excitement is dampened slightly when the responding voice is not your mate’s but Unip’s.
“I just don’t know how long he thinks this can go on.” Unip sighs.
“Well you know how Neteyam is. He will find a way to succeed and if not, he will die trying.” Lo’ak snorts, but there is a hint of concern in his nonchalant tone. It’s a timber that makes you halt in your tracks and ears twitch to hear the conversation.
“It’s only going to get worse, you know. Once he is Olo’eyktan, half a night’s rest will not be enough anymore. He already looks half dead.”
There is a silence that follows, only filled by the sound of your own heart thumping.
“You’re never going to convince him otherwise, bro.” Lo’ak responds, amused tone faltering greatly.
Stepping forward, you curve yourself around a thick tree trunk in effort to discreetly get a better look at the pair. Lo’ak’s back is facing towards you but even from this low vantage point, the lines of his tense muscle are easy to spot. Your golden eyes have become specialized for seeing in the dark after all these years, allowing a better image of his form and mannerisms. You are used to reading people’s expressions and body language with only the dim glow of eclipse.
“Stubborn skxawng.” Unip shakes his head before leaning against the sturdy trunk. His scowl is illuminated by the soft red glow of a patch of sprouting flowers. The sight makes your stomach twist.
Have things truly gotten this bad?
“Neteyam won’t leave her. You and I both know that. All that can be done is make peace with it.” Lo’ak shrugs his shoulders.
“And watch him turn into an old man in a few years. Those bags are sure to be bad for his pretty boy appearance.” Unip quips back, causing both the males to break out into laughter.
The tension visibly eases between them but you are not laughing. In fact, you can feel the beginning of those twisting nerves pushing bile up your throat. All joyful anticipation has washed from your features, replaced with dread and horror.
Your feet drum against the forest floor, stuck on autopilot and effectively taking you home. The beginning of streaming tears threaten to drop past your eyes.
It’s true that Neteyam has been tired but it isn’t till now that you reply back your interactions and his recent appearance. Those dark circles aren’t as prevalent in the light of eclipse, perhaps they are more telling in daylight. Neteyam has a way of falling asleep in a matter of seconds once hitting the mat but you have always assumed that to be a part of his nature. Some people are naturally deep sleepers.
However, now, all of these signs appear in a different light for you. Each conversation is played back in your head but of course Neteyam has never let his weaknesses show, especially ones that could be brought on by you. You know this and yet it is only now that you scold yourself for not being more perceptive, for not seeking advice and perspective from those around him.
His family and friends have an advantage that you can not achieve. Surely they would be the first to notice his changes in demeanor and health. They are the ones watching him work, train, and interact more closely with clan members. You have never been more envious of those walking in the sun in your entire life. This condition has always been a hassle for you but now it has turned into true heartache.
This weakness that Eywa has given you is no longer just affecting you but now your perfect mate. This disease has spread to him in a way you scold yourself for not anticipating.
How is he supposed to become Olo’eyktan, protecting and guiding the People all while being tethered to you?
Eywa has destined your life to be forever restricted to the shadows, but that is not Neteyam’s path.
You can spot the familiar dark canvases of your hut in the trees up ahead. No doubt Neteyam has already returned home at this point, if not then he will soon. Less than an hour earlier you were ecstatic to see him but now the thought of seeing those tired eyes makes you want to curl up into a ball.
Needing more time to process, you opt to take a different route, one that leads to a secluded waterfall. Safe in the greenery and now sitting in the shallow area of the glowing water, you take a moment to breathe. Water trickles into a soothing pattern that has been associated with your memories in this found sanctuary.
Truly, none of this should be a surprise. This ailment has been the driving course of your life thus far and you’ve grown used to it, letting go of certain aspects that are not meant for you. Neteyam is just another one of those. He is beyond your reach. Keeping him here would only hurt the clan. They need a leader that can be with them, present both physically and mentally. For the greater good it is time to let him become that Olo’eyktan.
Perhaps you would have accepted this fact and stuck to it earlier on were it not for the great love you hold for him. Neteyam Sully holds your heart and soul effortlessly in his hands. There will never be another that lights up your life the same way he does and truth be told, you don’t want there to be. Forever your first and only love.
Regardless, the time for being selfish is over.
Some Na’vi have the honor of dying a warrior’s death, going down in the name of protecting the People. Others sacrifice their time and energy serving the clan daily in the name of Eywa. You have been kept back from either of these duties so it makes sense that giving up the future Olo’eyktan would be your contribution.
After all, how are you supposed to serve as Tsahik with your limitations?
This makes sense. Your brian tells you this is the logical solution. Life will go on. You will return back to a life that you have come to be content with over the years and Neteyam will find a proper mate that can serve The People by his side.
Still, it is impossible to ignore the cracks that are slowly developing in your heart. It is difficult to imagine a life without your true love. The thought alone has a sob crawling up your throat. This sound however is morphed into a strange shriek when a pair of muscular arms suddenly grasp and pull you back against a hard chest.
The water splashes around the two of you and you can feel the rumble of Neteyam’s laughter as you are awkwardly shifted in his arms.
“Baby girl, you are really off your game today.” He teases fondly before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. An efficient shuffle has you more familiarly settled between the corded muscle of his toned thighs. Instinctually you lean back against him.
“What? Nothing to say in your defense?”
“Oh yeah uh just tired.” You lamely respond.
“Silly Tanhi, today has barely begun.”
For you.
The day has barely begun for you and only you. Every other Na’vi enjoy the blissful alignment of the sun and their ‘days’. You are the outlier.
Gathering up your courage you finally lift yourself onto your knees and turn to face him. Neteyam grins, but for once you aren’t focused on the gleams of those pearly teeth. Sure enough there are dark circles in a crescent shape beneath his eyes. You reach out to thumb at those dark contrasts. The alpha blissfully misreads this as cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch and his smile broadens.
“My sweet sevin.” He mumbles. Your stomach tightens back into that knot. Finally, he seems to notice the shift in your demeanor. The smile falters and he places his hand over the one cupping his cheek. The large veined hand completely covers yours.
“What’s wrong?”
It seems an impossible task to go through with what you know must be done. A part of you considers holding off, letting it last a little longer before you lose him forever. However, that would only result in a more sleep deprived Omatikaya Prince and the suffering of future Olo’eyktan.
The longer you take to respond the faster the amusement in those golden orbs declines. He calls your name softly and turns his head to gently peck your palm.
“I just-” You steady yourself. The words feel like acid crawling up your throat and sitting pressed against him only makes it burn more. Cautiously you detach yourself completely and settle down on the colorful rocks lining the shallow river.
Neteyam immediately stiffens. His tail curls up into high alert and his ears twitch back slightly, but still you can see the now fake smile plastered on his face.
“You’re…tired.” It’s a weak start but they are the only words you can force out.
There is a flicker of surprise in his features but it melts away into a mocking eye roll. The corners of his lips are back to being turned up in a more genuine manner.
“Well of course I’m a little tired Tanhi. Every mighty warrior should be if he’s done his job right.” The alpha chuckles and you can almost taste the deviation of his pheromones. He confidently reaches out to take your hand in his. “But never too tired to spend time with my sweet little star.”
The cool rush of water is a dramatic contrast to the warm grasp Neteyam has on your hand. It feels like fire that curls up your veins and pushes tears to the back of your eyes. It’s too painful to be close like this. To see him obliviously flirt and cuddle as if all is well when you know deep down that this will be the last time you feel his touch.
“No, I mean exhausted. Ma Neteyam-” You shut your mouth tight. That phrase was so easily in your arsenal of vocabulary but it’s time to start training yourself to stop using it. You brush the circles under his eyes again. “You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”
Realization seems to dawn for him.
“Oh you mean my eyes. Lo’ak was teasing me earlier about it. Didn’t think it would bother you so much, sevin, but I’m sure my grandmother has some herbs to lighten the color.” He laughs lightly.
“No, Neteyam. This is bad for you. Staying up every night only to push yourself to the limit the next day. Living in that darkened hut. Spending every last fiber of energy you have spending time with me. Taking care of me-”
“That is what mates do, Tanhi. I don’t want it any other way-”
“I am bad for you!”
The words cut through the air and suddenly every remnant of the playful atmosphere has disappeared.
“Don’t say stuff like that, Tanhi.” His voice is firm, stern enough to be considered reprimanding. Neteyam eyes darken onto a duller glow. The musky scent of your mate shifts into that of a stronger presence. It’s moments like that that you remember how distinct his second gender is.
“Neteyam, you know I’m right. This condition is no longer just hurting me but you too. Playing this game of back and forth makes no sense.”
He sits up straight, back stiff as a rod. It takes everything in you to hold that gaze without bursting into tears and backing down. The flicker of his tail has turned into frantic swatting as his lips curl downwards.
“What are you trying to say, love?”
You gulp and prepare yourself to utter words that weigh heavy in your heart.
“We have to end this.”
Silence drags on. The rush of running water and purring wildlife is the only thing that fills the air. Your tail swishes nervously in the water, causing a slight splash. No matter which way you squint or tilt your head, Neteyam’s expression is unreadable. Even your enhanced night vision is not enough to fully understand or anticipate the brewing emotions beneath those golden eyes.
“No.”
Your mind sputters to a halt at the snipped response. He’s giving you nothing to work with.
“Neteya-”
“Where is all of this coming from, yawne?” He reaches forward to cup your cheek but you stand up before he can. This close proximity is becoming too much. Perhaps it’s cowardly, but you need a reprieve from his love-filled gaze and tender touches. Otherwise, there is no way you will be able to do what needs to be done. You wonder if he knows this as you are met with a toned chest at eye level blocking your path.
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“Then why are you so worried all of a sudden?” He pleads for an answer but you have finally managed to slip past him and wade out of the water. The drum of your feet rings in your ears, taking you to Eywa knows where. Neteyam is hot on your heels.
“It’s not just worry, it’s logic, Neteyam. Can’t you see? You are going to be Olo’eyktan. The People need a leader that won’t be tied to some nocturnal Na’vi that drains the last bit of energy you have left.”
The alpha goes to interject but the words are flying out of your mouth at such a speed at this rate, he has no opportunity.
“They will need a Tsahik that can do more than just work a night shift. Not to mention one that actually understand healing protocal-”
“My grandmother has already offered to teach you.” He counters, stomping feet practically nipping at your heels. It’s not that you mean to walk away from him, but the dam that holds your suffocating emotions at bay is starting to crack and crumble. One look at him could weaken your resolve. This has to be done fast, ripped off like an adhesive bandage.
“You deserve to be with someone that can lead The People with you. A mate that can serve both you and the clan in a way I never can. An omega that is a proper mate.”
A strong hand clamps around your bicep and spins you around. Neteyam glowers down at you with an intensity that is borderline desperate. The tears are starting to leave a glaze over your eyes, even as you avoid his own at any cost.
“You are my mate. You are the woman that I choose to spend the rest of my days with.” He tries to gently tilt your face towards him by grabbing your chin, but you flick it off. “We are mated before Eywa.” The crack in his voice tears at your heart.
“I shouldn’t have let it go on this long, I’m sorry. I foolishly let myself believe that you and I are meant to be but now it is clear that my head was simply in the clouds.” A sob thickens your voice until it is barely tangible. Words are failing you and you idly wonder how many more you will truly be able to manage in this state.
You attempt to flee from his embrace once more, just a moment to escape that heartbreaking stare that follows your every move. Neteyam holds you gently by the biceps but there is enough force there to keep you in place.
“We are, Tahni. All these other obstacles are just that, obstacles. Things we can overcome.” He slumps down, determined to finally have your eyes meet his. The curtain of your flowing hair is a weak shield against these efforts. You can feel the heat of his escalating breath tickle at your cheeks. He swoops in closer slowly, with the caution of closing in on a skittish prey. “It’s just you and me, little star.”
The flat of his nose finally rests against yours, lips only a sudden movement away.
There are promises of familiar comfort and happiness in this intimate position. Your nature keens towards his gentle touch. It prompts you to hide away every other concern, worried that it could break this moment of tranquility.
However, that is exactly what you do.
“You have to break it.”
There is a pause, a moment of shock that you take advantage of. Slipping out his hold, you watch realization slink across his features. It’s blood chilling, the look of horror that is clearly evident upon his handsome face. It’s a rare thing to render Neteyam speechless. He has grown up learning how to lead and command a room with confidence and grace. Seeing him now, mouth agape as his thoughts lag, it’s easier to see that there is simply a normal man behind the mighty warrior.
A male that you have managed to strip away the light in his eyes, all evidence of excitement lost.
It is now that you can truly see the aching restlessness and lost nights of sleep in his demeanor. He wilts before you.
“You don’t mean that.” He insists, voice now hollow of its usual domineering confidence.
“I do.” The timber of your voice shivers and shakes, doing nothing to strengthen your resolve. Still, the lost look that Neteyam sends you absolutely wrenches at your heart. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”
Words that are meant to reassure him at least slightly only make his tail halt movement, obvious that the phrase only digs the dagger deeper into his chest.
“Everyone?” He whispers, hairless eyebrows drawing together. Hesitant steps lead you backwards, eager to begin your journey away from this tornado of darkened emotions. Away from the raincloud you have created between the two of you. “You…this is what you want?”
Want.
That small word is a palpable distinction. To change this argument from what needs to be done to the inner workings of your desires and dreams. To veer it towards the ever flowing river of devotion and love you know will always be in your heart for him. It’s the one move that leaves you completely defenseless.
This is the last thing that you want.
He has to know that. He must know that. And perhaps that is why he faces you with this question head on, forcing you to say the words out loud. It’s a towering wall that you have no hopes of climbing. Lying is not your strong suit. Neteyam knows that.
“Please Neteyam.” You send your final plea before turning on your heel and bolting. Vanishing into the trees before he has a second to form one syllable.
Lying isn’t your strength, but hiding is something you are familiar with.
“She’ll probably cool down.” Lo’ak reassures him, handing a leaf with larvae to Neteyam.
“What did I do wrong?” Neteyam wonders out loud. It’s difficult for Lo’ak to tell whether or not that question is rhetorical. The eldest Sully’s eyes are focused on the horizon, he’s lost. Off somewhere else.
“Nothing, bro! Not everything is that simple.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Neteyam sees the wooden cup of strong drink pushed toward him but he declines. Drinking is the last thing he needs right now, although it is tempting. These past two days have been pure torture and sorrow. Washing every clouding thought away with the swig of fermented fruit would surely keep his mind off of you for a while, but it would never stop the permanent ache in his chest.
Although Neteyam knows he must look awful because even his father encourages him to drink, despite the duties he is set to carry out the next day. Most nights he is advised to keep his wits about him, but Jake has let up since the event.
“There has to be something I could’ve said. Perhaps something I can say now.”
“Bro, you’ve already said more than enough. If your constant notes and begging haven’t got her to let you into the hut, I don’t think words are the problem here.” A grimace is etched into Lo’ak’s features but Neteyam turns away from the sight. He can’t handle the look of pity that his family seems to constantly be shooting him.
He looks miserable. He is miserable. Every Na’vi with eyes can see that much. However, he doesn’t want sympathy. He needs solutions. A plan that will set things right again. Anything to bring his littler start back into his arms.
“Ma Teyam,” Neteyiri gently coos, haunching forward to tuck on the tangled braids behind his ear. “Perhaps it is time to give her some space.”
Usually his mother’s presence has the power to soothe away the worst of his worries, but today all he can do is sigh at her words. Sitting in problems has never been his strong suit. Neteyam is used to problem solving. Coming up with a strategy and executing it until the issue is nothing but a distant memory. He prays to Eywa that this too will become just that. Something that can be laughed at down the road.
However, sitting here now surrounded by people and never feeling more lonely, it’s hard to imagine ever laughing at such a thing.
Neteyam continues to pick at the grass next to the untouched meal. The sun has been down for over an hour now. Dinner is wrapping up and there is still no sight of you…again. Every crunch of a leaf or flitter of voices has him turning to search for your small frame in the darkness. It’s an effort that leaves him empty handed every time but, no matter the frequency of failure he can’t stop himself from whipping his head around anyway.
“You know, there was a time that I was upset with your father. Livid, actually. And yet here we are today.” Neytiri almost purrs, trying to comfort her son.
“Yeah and did he wait around and give you space?” The words come out harsher than intended but Neytiri doesn’t tell him off like usual. Instead her ears pin back and she runs a thumb across his cheek. Jake and Neytiri lock eyes from across the fire, a silent communication that has Jake clearing his throat.
“I’m not sure if I’m the prime example in this scenario, kid.” A deep chuckle accentuates Jake’s words. He goes to close his mouth and leave it at that but his mate sends him one fierce look that lets him know he is far from done comforting their eldest. “I mean uh truth be told, I was an absolute knucklehead before I met your mother.”
“Still are.” She corrects him.
Jake doesn’t try to fight against the claim, but he does nervously clasp the back of his neck, searching for the right words to say.
“Tanhi still hasn’t eaten. Must go.” Neteyam abruptly calls, on his feet within a heartbeat. He gently cradles his untouched meal in the palm of his hand as he navigates his way out of the circle of his family. Neytiri sighs and Jake sends her an apologetic look as they watch their son slither off into the night once again.
Even Tuk sends sad eyes in the direction of her older brother as he walks away.
Upon reaching the dark curtains of your hut, Neteyam is unsure whether or not you still reside inside. There is no sign of light emanating inwards. For a moment he is convinced that you have slipped out during his absence, but then there is a ruffle of covers that his ears manage to pick up. Stalking forward carefully, he leans in to pick up on every sound possible.
Even with his alpha hearing, there is little to no noise coming from the hut. Or at least no sound that is useful to him in any way. He wonders what you are up to within those darkened walls. His hindbrain urges him to go inside and find out for himself, cradle you in his arms till there are promises of never leaving again. However, he knows better than that.
Neteyam waits to be invited in.
“Tanhi?” The sound echoes through the night air, but no response comes. With a sigh he kneels down by the entrance, cautiously pushing the leaf underneath the thick rim of fabric.
“You missed dinner again.” Neteyam knows he shouldn’t expect a response at this point, but his tail still naturally droops to the floor when one doesn’t come. “I brought some for you.”
He waits once more, but silence hangs heavy in the air. Neteyam’s ears twitch to focus in on the minute sounds again. The shallow breathing is confirmation enough of your presence. A part of him almost wishes that he is talking to a blank piece of fabric. If you had left then he could have at least spent that anxious energy scouring the forest for your slim frame. If you had left it would give him hope that you’ve hunted, eaten, gone on a walk. Anything that isn’t sitting in your hut.
“Do me a favor, baby. Please eat something. Maybe you have been when I’m not breathing down your neck,” He gives a humorless laugh. “But…I just want to make sure you’re healthy. I’m starting to get worried.”
When the silence continues he doesn’t leave immediately. The weight of the stress and heartache is tangible. He can feel it in his bones. He can sense it when in the lag of his maneuvers and movements during flight in his training. Truth be told, Neteyam is sure that it’s visible to others, shining through in his trudging walk to and fro.
Sitting here in the grass, the same place he had spent that first night you started icing him out, he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him downwards. The muscles of his body scream in protest at every movement. Physically his body is ready to give way, but his hindbrain weaves together signs of distress all night long.
His instincts yearn to be close to you again, close to his mate who he shares a special connection with that nothing can replace. At times it is painful, that bond between the two of you. Neteyam remembers many days where that connection has been physically fortified by your time together, binding tighter with every brush of his fingers along your skin. However, he did not anticipate the effects of the opposite reaction.
Going to sleep alone and cold, leaves a heavy weight on his chest. At times it feels almost suffocating. Sleeping outside of your hut doesn’t erase these pains, but it does dull them slightly. He wonders if you’ve ever stepped over him during his slumber. Actively trying to or not, his senses remain on high alert throughout the night. He can wake at the drop of a leaf, false hope that it may be your small form finally stepping past those heavy curtains.
“Neteyam.” His head whips around at the voice, but it isn’t your honey timber that flits through his ears. Instead it comes from behind him, where Kiri stands with her hands woven together in front of her.
“What’s wrong?”
Not bothering to answer, she instead motions for him to follow her. He glances back at the entrance of your hut, but one look at Kiri’s down turned lips has him groggily shifting back onto his feet. She doesn’t speak till the two of them are out of ear shot.
“Mom and Dad sent you?” Neteyam guesses, tail already drooping between his legs. It bothers him that his parents are rushing to bandage things up, treating him like a child. Advice is appreciated at the best of times, but this is his life. He is an adult, and has been for years now. The rift that has been fortified between you two is his problem to solve and therefore his choice on how to fix it.
“No, just thought I would save you from making a fool of yourself.” She continues to effortlessly lead him away from the hut.
“I’m just dropping some food off.”
“I know.” There is no hint of mocking or disbelief in her tone. She simply grabs his hand gently and guides him back along the path home. Neteyam braces himself for a spew of advice but it never comes. Kiri to his surprise is silent, no hint of tension lingering between them. Still, he knows what message is being conveyed. No matter how much it hurts, he can’t continue to barricade your front door.
It’s moments like these that Neteyam comes to truly admire how much his younger sister has grown up. She prances through the forest with a humble confidence. Each step taken with the certainty of belonging. Kiri no longer needs others to tell her who she is. Similarly she feels no need to press her opinions on her older brother. She waits patiently. As if she knows that he will come to her when the time is right.
It is a quality he looks upon with great fondness and gratitude.
Life has thrown you more obstacles than you care to count. This condition has been a stumbling block your entire life, but you refuse to let it keep you from the finishing line. You consider yourself a persevering person, one that is not easily taken down. When things get difficult you have always been taught to gather your bearings and get to work. Some sacrifices are painful but meant to be left behind if they are keeping you from fulfilling a happy and purposeful life.
So for the first few days, you try to get back into your normal routine. The first night was spent weaving baskets together through the blurred vision of your tears. The basket came out looking like it had been mauled by a Palulukan. Regardless you continued to attempt getting back into your old routine, however those were usually filled with night hunts, an activity you were terrified of seeing Neteyam at. So you declined.
However, truth be told, it only takes twenty four hours to realize that this heartbreak is intruding upon everything you do. You open your eyes as sunset turns to Eclipse and the first thing that surfaces is the dread at needing to go to communal dinner. So, you push dinner off. Neteyam is persistent in bringing you a plate each night, usually saying a few apologies and begging once again for you to come out.
Your lips are raw and sore from biting into them in order to keep sobs at bay every time he comes to visit. Those first few nights he spent laying outside your hut was an awful mixture of longing and agony. His potent essence was easily carried through the night wind, constantly bringing it to your senses. You had twisted in the thin blankets on your hammock to stop yourself from going out there and cuddling next to him.
On the third night, he doesn’t stay.
You expect to feel relieved when he silently sets the serving of food down and leaves.
And yet, there is a part of you that longs for the draw of his smooth voice, no matter how distraught and rough it has become over the past few days. A part of you seems to also intrinsically sense his presence, even in the midst of slumber. Now that he spends his nights away from your hut, the emotional turmoil has become too much to handle.
Simple tasks pose as daunting accomplishments, ones that already feel like impending defeat. So, you slowly start losing those habits too. Your eyes run out of tears to shed so instead you spend more than a reasonable amount of time pondering on your life. You consider what it is that brought you to these circumstances, questioning whether or not you were the one to blame for this heartbreak. Perhaps, you were the one easily swayed into promises of fairy tales.
Before you know it a whole week has passed and you haven’t stepped foot outside. Recognizing this fact makes you feel pathetic and helpless, something that you don’t take a liking to. So, with red rimmed eyes and a congested nose, you take up a new purpose. Wielding together weapons from the materials in your hut.
Although they’re nothing to gawk at, the finished results are enough to convince yourself that you are contributing to the welfare of the clan. The steps are repetitive and allow your thoughts to wander while doing so. By the second week you have donated a fair amount to the hunting parties without having to leave your home, thanks to the kindness of your mother.
Your parents drop in frequently, but it’s obvious that they too find these visits painful. It’s an emotional ball and chain to see you wither away into something different. Visits that used to be full of vibrant laughter and storytelling now consist mostly of their own updates and pleas for you to come outside. Each time you assure them that you will…soon.
It’s not a lie, at least not to you.
Despite the physical ache of your heart every time you think of Neteyam’s smiling face and the bond that is now nothing but dust between you, there is still hope in your heart. A hope that someday you will recover from these lovesick feelings and finally be able to look upon the Omatikaya prince as any other clan member would. Purpose will return to your everyday tasks and Neteyam will only reside in your mind as Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.
Still, you would be naive to ignore the weighted awareness of his presence that consumes you every time he comes to drop meals off. You can sense him before his footsteps are even audible. Occasionally, he will say a few encouraging words or promises of solution but some nights he simply places the food there and stares at it sadly before disappearing once more. Both instances strangle your heart in their grasp.
You thought that his scent would lessen once the bond was broken, but you figure it is alpha status to thank for always sending his essence of fresh pine through your hut at each visit. In some ways it feels like the only full breaths you took. The woven walls still allow air in, but only breezes warped with his scent remind you of being outside.
It’s on the two week mark that there is a shift in the miserable routine. No meal is brought to the entryway. Hours go by and Neteyam never comes by. You’ve been living off of those nightly meals and while one meal is not hardly enough to maintain a status of full health, its loss is even worse. At first, it appears that Neteyam has given up. He is tired of chasing after you and rightfully so you suppose. This is meant to be a step in the right direction, but you cry yourself to sleep that night. Apparently, your body had an extra storage of tears after all.
However, when it happens again, your theories start to change. A small slice of fruit is left outside on a leaf by the curtains in place of a meal. It’s delicious with juice squirting along your tongue in a dramatic symphony of taste. It’s the type of experience that leaves one wanting for more. Initially you are disappointed when the small piece is gone, but you remember where this food comes from. It would only take a five minute walk to approach the communal fire and snatch some away for yourself.
Only moments away from dipping outside that entry way for the first time in two weeks, you have another thought.
Neteyam only put one piece.
Would it not have been easier to leave a whole fruit rather than take the time to cut and separate one morsel of it onto a leaf as an offering.
It wasn’t an offering, it was an enticement.
You stay behind, trying to forget the sweet tang of the dessert.
Sure enough the suspicion is correct when the next night one piece of wrapped chocolate is left outside with a note.
Found this during the raid this week. There’s a whole bag left sitting in my hut. Let me know if you want some more.
-Neteyam
The chocolate is a tiny ball wrapped in a red textured material that is unfamiliar to Pandora. Chocolate is something you never knew of before Neteyam. However, now it has become one of your all time favorite delicacies, especially with the rarity of its availability. Neteyam took a great liking to showing you around the outpost and the stocked treasures they were stealing from the old Hell’s Gate post and the new trains they were constantly raiding. He would explain the random customs and stories of Sky People that he hears from his father while carefully unwrapping the delicious pieces for you.
Some days you would even have him read some of the English text, whether from the wrappers or other books that are kept around the outpost for the human scientists to enjoy at their leisure. You never understand a word of what he says, but the sounds are fascinating to hear in Neteyam’s familiar timber. Although the Mother Tongue of the Sky Demons, you’ve always been fascinated by Neteyam’s ability to speak it. Something very distinctly attractive about his extra abilities.
You sigh and thumb at the round ball of chocolate. It melts on your tongue, creating an explosion of sweet smooth sensations. Leave it to Neteyam to try and lure you out through your love of chocolate. That night you flatten out the wrapper, running your thumb over the English text that appears as nothing more than scribbles to you. It serves as a painful reminder of the golden memories the two of you have shared.
It remains clamped in your fist the entire day.
Heavy eyelids blinking open slowly, you can still feel the strange texture of that wrapper between your fingers. Contrary to your lack of activity, your body feels sore. Every muscle seems to be wound the wrong way and the air in your hut feels moist and stuffy. Stretching out, your foot hits the food supplies basket you keep and knocks it over. You stumble to put the object away, or rather you try to before you realize that it’s empty.
The last of your supplies is gone.
Regardless of your feelings and fears, you need to go outside today. It’s time to face the music.
Your toes curl and feet flex before carefully shifting to stand. Pushing aside clusters of baskets and tools you finally breach the front entryway of your hut. Expecting the air to have cooled down by now, your skin prickles strangely at the feeling of heat against your back. You rush to throw off whatever blanket or item of clothing that must have stuck to you but then your eyes are blinded. Sheer light invades your vision, drenching every sight in white.
Stumbling across the forest floor, it truly takes you more than a moment to understand what is happening. The harsh light, the foreign heat. This is sunlight.
A pure beam of sunlight that has not disappeared behind the moon yet.
Your delayed reaction finally allows you to search for the entryway and try to scramble towards safety but it’s impossible to see with the brightness of the world turned up to one hundred. Your eyes can’t manage to stay open for more than a second, each time feeling a burning sensation that is unbearable. Soon, though, it seems to be too late as your limbs grow heavy and your skin heats uncomfortably. Even when that last ray of sunshine disappears, your body continues to torment you with a rising heat.
The sensations become too much. The weight of your own head drags you down. The world spins around you in disorienting directions. Only a glimpse of blue skin is caught before you collapse into someone’s arms and the world turns blissfully black again.
“Move before I kick you out.” Mo’at warns, but her tone holds a morsel of sympathy despite the strict instruction.
You are laid out along the mat of her healer’s tent with half the Sully family gathered around. Neteyam can hardly keep his hands off of you, constantly checking to see if you have cooled down yet. Each time renders him disappointed, ears folding back against his head. Mo’at is quickly losing patience as she is constantly swatting the boy away in order to apply the series of healing balms.
“She’s burning up.” He protests, but finally moves out of her way. His idle hands find a new place along his knees where the blunt nails dig into his skin. Kiri and Tuk surround their brother but are careful to not impede too much on his space. His panicked dread rolls off of him in waves, a palpable tension that can be felt by everyone in the tent.
“How long was she exposed?”
“I don’t know. Can’t be more than a few minutes maybe. She was hardly past the entrance when I found her…I….is she going to be ok?” His voice cracks as tears finally well up over his golden orbs. Tuk places her small hand on his shoulder.
“Only the Great Mother knows that.” She pauses, looking up to see her grandson’s crumbling composure. “She is hot. Her temperature needs to drop significantly.”
The message doesn’t seem to settle on Neteyam. His gaze continues to focus on your unconscious face.
“Neteyam.” His head finally snaps up at his grandmother’s stern voice. “Go fetch me cold water from the river.” A basin is handed to the alpha but she can already tell there is reluctance in his expression.
“Now.” It’s harsher than Mo’at would like to be but she knows that getting the concerned alpha outside of the tent is essential for her to complete the healing rituals. His presence is a distraction that has her own emotions tugging her away from the work at hand.
Neteyam purses his lips and sends one last glance towards you. He cradles your cheek and leans down to softly press a kiss to your forehead, whispering promises to return. Then finally, he rushes out of the tent, driven by the given task.
The hours rush and drag simultaneously for Neteyam. It becomes difficult to believe that it has already been a full twenty four hours and yet every minute that your eyes are not open feels like a year to him. Jake recruits Norm and some of the other scientists to take a look at you in the outpost. Moat is naturally displeased by the change at first but even she can’t deny that the old metal portable is a safer place for you to hide from the sun. Thick blankets and rugs are hung over the windows to keep the rays of sunshine out.
Between the expertise of the scientists with their modern technology and the healing powers of Tsahik, things begin to look grim when there is little to no change in your state. Neteyam becomes increasingly more tense with every passing hour that yields no result. At some point his family stops trying to convince him to take breaks. Tuk takes it upon herself to gather and deliver a good serving from the communal fire for her older brother at every meal.
Kiri is constantly teetering between helping her grandmother wrap cooling salves of thick leaves on your skin and foraging through the forest for different materials that could be used to create various healing ointments.
Lo’ak tries to provide his brother with some pleasant company. If not that, then at least an annoying younger brother that can keep his mind off the matter for a few minutes. He tells jokes and shares random stories, usually featuring young alphas and the things their idiotic pride leads them to do. He has a plethora of these events saved up, having been training the new batch of future warriors almost daily. Those stories shift to other couples’ drama and fights when Neteyam laments over the past few weeks, assuring his brother that rough patches are normal in relationships and that perhaps he is not the worst skxawng to be found in the forest.
Jake and Neytiri watch the scene with sorrowful eyes, discussing in the privacy of their home what needs to be done for their son and you.
At hour thirty six, you begin to squirm. Every muscle seems to creek with each movement, seemingly as rusty and worn as the door to the outpost that takes an extra shove to open. It’s the burning heat that you notice next. It seems to travel along your veins and cover you in a suffocating cloud. It brings on feelings of almost claustrophobic symptoms.
Finally, the flutter of your lashes reveal your golden eyes to the synthetic lighting of the outpost makeshift hospital wing. Only one electric light is turned on down the hallway. The rest of the ambience comes from lit candles scattering the surfaces around you. Their flicker is soft and soothing, but it’s the familiar scent of timber and pine that has your muscles finally relaxing.
The surface beneath your head is cool to the touch, you rub your cheek against it.
“Tanhi.”
That soft makeshift pillow is his thigh. Your already burning cheeks seem to reach new levels of inflamed rose color as you drowsily look up at him.
“You’re awake.” His voice is thick with emotion, almost choking the sounds from his throat. On its own volition your hand shakily reaches up to swipe away the tear traveling down his cheek. His skin is cool to the touch, such a different contrast to the usual warmth that you remember radiating off of him in your nights together. Your thin arm shakes from the strain of holding it upwards, he grabs your wrist gently and reluctantly helps you lower it back to your side.
“Yes.” The sound comes out more hoarse and gravelly than you anticipated. You clear your throat before continuing. “How long have I been out?”
“Over a day.”
A few moments of sunlight and suddenly a day and a half has been taken from you. It’s a lot to process, especially with the hazy pounding assaulting your head with every moment. The usual strength and energy in your body seems to have greatly dissipated, leaving you feeling as nothing but a shell of your normal self. Your attempt at sitting up is not only hindered by the strain of your abs but also cut short by Neteyam’s large hands gently pushing you back down.
“No no Tanhi, just rest. Don’t strain yourself.” It’s too easy to settle your head back onto his welcoming lap. A small voice at the back of your head warns you of reversing all the progress that has been made, but it seems insignificant when Neteyam begins to tenderly brush his fingers through your hair. Nothing can take away the ache of your body and heat of your blood boiling but his touch does finally stir your heartbeat into a steady rhythm. It’s as if a weight is lifted off of you as your senses become filled with his essence. Every point of contact between you is like fire and ice. He is the ice that you welcome greatly, the only thing that seems to relieve the burning along your skin.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes almost closed once more.
“Whatever for, love?”
“I don’t mean to trouble you. I should’ve been more diligent, tracking the sun’s cycle..” Your lungs seize into a painful invisible grip, forcing a coughing fit to begin. Neteyam is quick to shush your sentence away and help you get some cool water down. His large hand rests over the heat of your forehead. The eldest Sully frowns down at you, no doubt still feeling the evidence of your raging fever.
“Hush, Tanhi. There’s no place I would rather be right now.”
You watch the shadows dance across lines of his collarbones and sharp features as he prepares another cool wrap to lay across your forehead. The grip you have on conscious thought is weak, but even at your mental peak you are sure that there is nothing more beautiful than the man above you. His harsh and sharp features that frame those kind and insightful eyes. He has an ethereal beauty that has always captured you.
“You’re going to be ok.” It’s unclear whether or not the sentiment is meant for you or rather himself. His hairless brows pinch into those familiar clenched lines. You recognize them from days he would come home to, the evidence of his still racing thoughts clearly etched into his features.
Through the constant ache of your body and heat that tries to lure you to sleep, it takes you a moment to recognize the pheromones drifting off of him. You’re surprised to find that you can still identify the shift of emotions through his essence. Supposedly your sense of smell is better than you thought for a beta. The curling sadness and anxiety that comes off of him in waves, however, is something you wish could not be so easily detected. It is foreign and strange when mixed with his calming perfume. Neteyam isn’t usually one easily frazzled.
Neteyam settles a clear plastic over your mouth and it takes a moment before you recognize it as the Avatar oxygen masks. The air filtered through it is clearer and more readily accepted by your lungs. After a few breaths you nod at him and he pulls it away again.
Silence ensues. You yearn to break it with some semblance of an apology or explanation, but the words never come. Your body has other ideas as it drifts in and out of consciousness. Several times you wake to see another member of the Sully family perched next to Neteyam. However, the oldest Sully child never leaves. The hold you have on time becomes almost nonexistent as you slip back and forth between reality and fever induced dreams.
Eventually you begin to wake periodically in Neteyam’s arms, head laying on his chest or coddled in his lap. Each time you consider saying something, knowing that he is no longer your mate. You have no claim on him and therefore no right to use him in this way, but his skin is cool and calms the sizzling heat upon your own. The very idea of creating distance between you two causes a spike of anxiety to take hold.
It would be all too easy to blame this on your fever and the aid he provides, even in your state of watered down thought you know the truth. There is a yearning to be close to him again. To feel the gentle caresses that line your lips and cheeks as you sleep. To fall into a fantasy where the two of you never split, convincing yourself that today is simply a small sick day where your mate pampers you. The natural instincts of your beta nature furthermore aches for the calming presence of an alpha. Even the simple actions of his rising and falling chest that contains a steady heartbeat lulles your nature into a submissive calm.
It is such a dramatic contrast to the empty abyss that has replaced your heart over the past few weeks. Falling into Neteyam feels natural, as expected as the waves that crash against the shore. It’s an ironic feeling to have considering the most inconvenient and problematic characteristics of your relationship. He was never meant to be yours.
You chant those words in your head, willing them to echo true.
This time, your eyes flutter lazily open to the feeling of his slim tail wrapping itself around your upper thigh. With creaky drowsiness you look up to find him fast asleep, lips parted softly with shallow breaths escaping soundlessly. Sprawled across him, head on his chest, this position resembles that of your usual sleeping position together. Or at least, what it used to be. Before the first cracks of dawn you would slip back into the tent and gently fall into his dozing embrace. It was not uncommon to find his tail slink around one of your limbs possessively all while never stirring from his unconscious state.
Looking around the dingy outpost, it’s just the two of you. The plastic material of the mask around your neck feels uncomfortable around your heated skin. You find a matching one around Neteyam’s own throat. Although showing no signs of struggling breathing, you gently place it against his lips. When the clear oxygen filtered through his lips, Neteyam stirs.
You contemplate faking sleep when his ears twitch and eyes slowly open, but they immediately land on you.
“Yawne.” Neteyam groans, voice thick with sleep. The deep rumble of his morning voice always makes your stomach do somersaults. “How are you feeling, Tanhi?”
His ears pin back when you veer away from his efforts to cup your cheek.
“A bit better.” Your arms tremble as they push against Neteyam pectorals to try and sit up properly. Despite his gentle protests, you finally manage to remain upright for the first time in days. The room spins around you. It’s only by the grace of Neteyam’s hands supporting your back that you remain sitting. “What time is it?”
It feels like night but then again the heavy blankets over the outpost windows would show no indication of broad daylight if present.
“Middle of the night.”
“Then I should go.” Your feet are barely planted on the ground before Neteyam is pulling you back into his arms.
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you out there in this condition, do you?” His chest rumbles with a stern timber, but his hold is tender and gentle. You are tempted to roll your eyes at the protective behavior, but you’re worried that doing so would put the room back into orbit again.
“You need rest.”
“I can rest at home.”
“Like hell you will.” Neteyam scoffs, using another phrase he so commonly picks up from his father. You can practically feel the protective growl that yearns to climb up his throat, but a sigh comes out in its place. “You’re shaking, Tanhi. Let me take care of you.”
His knuckles graze your cheek delicately, sending a cool shiver along your shoulders.
“I don’t think that is a good idea.”
Neteyam’s hand stills before dropping heavily to his lap. The heated breath coming from his lips tickles at the back of your neck. Were it not for your already trembling form you are sure that his presence alone would erupt goosebumps and shivers along your body. The pressing weight of silence is dizzying, tempting you to lay back down. You can practically hear the cogs in his head turning at a rapid pace.
“Please just hear me out for a moment.”
Turning around to face him takes more effort than you would like to admit. Seeing those sad golden eyes without melting takes even more.
“Five minutes is all I ask.” You hesitate, biting your bottom lip. “And if by the end of it you are sick of hearing from me then I promise I will leave you alone. My grandmother will take over caring for you and I will…respect your wishes.” His words are strangled, that suffocating dread pulling his features into a deep frown.
“Ok.”
The shimmer of hope is barely visible in his shining eyes but it still wrenches your heart.
“My entire life has been about being Olo’eyktan. I’ve watched my father lead the people since I could barely walk and since then I have always known that someday that would be me. I wake up every day and the first thought that comes to mind is what needs to be done in order to become the mighty leader that everyone expects me to be. For a long time I’ve thought that my path was already decided by Eywa. Find an omega suitable of being tsahik, settle down with her, and lead till my son can take over. I was ok with that, I’d accepted my fate.” Neteyam shifts to his knees, fingernails digging slightly into his own thighs. Apprehension spoils his scent, creating a new mixture you are unfamiliar with. It’s then that you realize you’ve never seen Neteyam nervous before.
“Then I met you.”
Your eyes dart to the laminate floor.
“I…I’m usually a lot better with words.” He chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his neck. “It occurred to me recently that I’ve been negligent in our relationship. I never truly explained why I chose you. Why you are the person I can’t live without. Perhaps if I had we wouldn’t be in this situation now.”
“Neteyam it’s not-”
“Please let me finish, Tanhi.”
You nod softly, careful to not increase the already blooming headache pounding at your skull.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” A weak snort transforms into a cough raking up your throat. “I don’t mean because of ailment, yawne.” He clarifies and you suddenly feel embarrassed for assuming so quickly. Neteyam pauses his little speech to reach behind and once again carefully bring a cup of water to your parched lips. Gratefully, you let the cool substance slink down your throat to soothe the scratchy ache.
Once he seems to be sure that another fit is not about to come on, Neteyam continues.
“You have this unyielding spirit, determined to forage through any storm. Eywa herself puts you in the shadows and you conquer the terrain. The air around you hums with a quiet confidence that is…” He searches for the right word. “Intoxicating.”
A laugh escapes your lips and yet you feel nothing resembling humor. Your hairless eyebrows scrunch in disbelief. Neteyam shows no acknowledgment of your reaction as he instead puts the mask back against your mouth.
“I’ve been drawn to you since that first night hunt. Surely, that isn’t a secret.” He laughs into his own mask that is raised to his lips. If only he knew how oblivious you were to his intentions those first few weeks. “You’re fiercely determined and independent yet hold a gentle empathy and kindness for those around you that I could only ever hope to imitate. And stubborn too.” Neteyam chuckles with a shake of his head. “Fucking stubborn enough to tell a dumb alpha like me off, consequences be damned.”
Your lungs can only manage a simple huffed laugh, but the corners of your lips are already turning upwards subconsciously.
“When I’m around you,” His eyes pierce through you. “I can finally bear that weighted pressure of expectations on my chest. You make it light.” Neteyam leans forward and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your upturned ear. “My little star.”
Your cheeks are damp and it is only then that you realize tears drops have been escaping your eyes. Neteyam thumbs them away with tender care.
“I’ve grown accustomed to sacrificing whatever it takes to become Olo’eyktan. I’ve written my life off as not my own. I’ve given everything I can and could in order to fulfill this role. You are the only thing that I can not sacrifice. And maybe that is selfish of me, but I also know that without you I’m simply a shell of the man I am with you.”
“I could never be Olo’eyktan without you by my side.”
“But how am I supposed to be beside you when I can’t even step a foot into the sun without falling apart at the seams?”
“You truly think that I haven’t thought about that, yawne?” Neteyam’s lips quirk into an amused smile. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that Lo’ak and I have been building a black out healers tent.” You gape at him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I suppose I should’ve known better than to think I could pull one over on you.”
It’s foolish, you tell yourself. Another darkened tent doesn’t solve all of the problems. It doesn’t erase the strain this relationship would have on Neteyam or allow you to operate during the daytime hours, unless you are content to remain in the tent for all of your days. And yet, there is a sliver of hope growing in your bosom.
“Nete, I don’t know what to say.” His braids swing over the intense eyes that focus on your every move. He’s tense, ready to jump in at the notice of resistance. “But, I can’t live my life in a dark tent.”
“Of course not. I’m talking about a compromise. Lo’ak, he takes over in the mornings while you and I start the day in the midafternoons. Tsahik duties in the tent for a few hours and then the rest of the night spent together. Leading together. Hunting together.” The dopey grin that spreads upon his lips is fiercely adamant in capturing your heart once more. It takes everything in you to not reach out and pinch the mighty warrior’s cheek. A notion Neteyam is known to reprimand with a playful glare.
“You make it sound so simple.” It’s too much to meet his gaze. You prefer the view of the worn down tiles as you take another calming breath from the mask. The pace of your heart is evermore increasing and part of you wonders if this conversation has the ability to make you faint.
A hand beneath your chin gently prods you to look back up again. He whispers your name, soft but clear in the quiet outpost.
“We have a choice.”
The words weigh heavy in the air, drawing your ears to perk forward in anticipation.
“I know that may sound like a lie to you. However, if there is anyone that understands their life being determined from birth, it’s you. You and I have been pushed and kept into our respective boxes, taught to dream of only the realistic paths ahead of us.”
You wish to say it’s untrue, but any other reality has been stripped away from you from your first breath and morphed into only that of fairy tales.
“We get to choose whether or not we believe that. I’ve accepted my destiny, Tanhi, but I can not bring myself to see my journey walking besides anyone that’s not you. I’ve already chosen. You are what I will not sacrifice.” Neteyam’s calloused fingers weave into your hair, hands on the sides of your head.
“It’s your turn, Tanhi. What do you choose?”
“Is that your definition of fumbling words?” Your chuckle is choked with tears. Neteyam’s short laughter joins your own, his lips already starting to spread into that smile you adore so much.
The past few weeks have been a constant building of that fortress around your heart. You’ve tried to convince yourself over and over again that the two of you parting ways is for the best. These mantras have ripped your heart out and left you in a state of empty sadness, but they also have created a sturdy wall, one that is hard to crumble. Naturally, it is Neteyam that ever stands a chance at breaking through. Sweet Neteyam that knows you so thoroughly that he doesn’t require brute force to get through, he finds a hold from the inside, reading you like a book until there is nothing left for you to hide.
This experience has been a draining uphill battle, but one that you have embarked on because you’ve been convinced that the right thing to do is often the hard thing. However, now, the story shifts. You are left wondering if perhaps this whole time, running away is not the hard thing at all. It’s staying that proves to be the most difficult battle to fight. It’s staying that requires your heart to be opened and at the mercy of failure and disappointment. Leaving Neteyam isn’t the noble cause you once thought it to be.
It’s hiding.
“You really have some nerve calling me stubborn.” You try to joke, but tears are already cascading down your cheeks at an alarming rate and you can tell Neteyam is seconds away from scooping you back into his lap.
“Well I admit being stubborn has its reward sometimes.” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Perhaps it’s paid off for me this time?”
“Perhaps.” You smile coyly at him. It takes bracing a stabilizing hand against the floor to stop yourself from falling over when you lean forward but it’s worth the exhilarating feeling of his lips against yours once more.
Neteyam is cautious and gentle, moving his lips softly in sync with yours, but you can feel the restraint it takes for him not to swallow you whole. However, you are still healing so Neteyam treats you the way you expect any alpha to: like a delicate flower. Your own tears wet the canvas of both of your cheeks and it takes a moment to realize that small droplets are falling from Neteyam’s eyes too.
The kiss is warm and tender. Relief washes through your body in a wave that makes you realize how much pain you truly were in. How even the very bones in your body finally lose their ache when Neteyam slips an arm around your back to bring you closer.
You’re forced to break the kiss earlier than desired as Neteyam can feel the way your body lags to get air into its lungs. The soft pants that leave your lips are soon encased by the mask that the alpha slips over your mouth once more. The warmth of his gaze beaming down on you spreads across your chest and lights another fire along your skin.
“Come home, Neteyam.” You whisper softly. His forehead leans against your own, those golden orbs still shimmering with unshed tears.
“Always, Tanhi.”
The hours float by in a happily dazed dream afterwards. Neteyam’s touch starved state comes fully into the light as he is constantly keeping a point of contact between you two. It’s obvious that his alpha hindbrain has gone off the wall after being apart for so long and furthermore trying to care for you without going too far. Now that the green light has been given, Neteyam is constantly wrapping his body around your own smaller form till you are almost completely encapsulated by him.
Truthfully, you have no objections. In fact, even your own instincts push you towards readily accepting and initiating any forms of affectionate touch. It further helps that Neteyam’s skin is cool to the touch in comparison to your own raging feverish skin.
Within half a day your wellbeing has greatly increased after the constant nurturing of your overprotective alpha, who seems to be constantly slipping water, food, medicine, or mask given air past your lips. Mo’at is greatly pleased when your temperature begins to return back to its former state and there is a greater strength present in your body. Still, she instructs you to lay low for another day as a precaution.
Neteyam is more than happy to keep you to himself for another day. Watching you come close to the brink of death has his primal urges dialed to eleven. You have to scold him every now and then when his younger brother comes to visit and Neteyam thanks him with an aggressive hiss and tucking you safely into his arms and away from the ‘threat’.
It’s borderline shocking to see his strong reactions considering the severed bond between the two of you. That is, until you find the truth.
“I admit, it might’ve been selfish Tanhi but I couldn’t bring myself to cut our tie before knowing that I had tried everything possible to get you back.”
He had looked up at you with a guilty composure but after everything the two of you had been through you couldn’t hide your relief and joy in finding out that this bond had still survived the heartache. It also provides a greater explanation to your own body's willingness to melt into him with or without a resolution. Now, though, you are content to let him have his fun babying you for one day more and revill in the renewed connection the two of you share.
This time when you awake in the newly hung hammock inside of the outpost (Neteyam had used every angle possible to convince the human scientists to let him temporarily take up the space) you’re surprised to find your mate’s skin hot against your own. His thumping heartbeat rickets in your eardrums but instead of rocking you to sleep, the sound sends shivers down your spine.
Neteyam is blissfully unaware of your consciousness as your own heart starts to speed up. Shifting your leg, it’s a surprise to feel a sticky texture lining the inside of your loincloth. Blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize the source of this substance. Bashfully you’re relieved to see Neteyam is still asleep, allowing your arousal to remain a private humiliation.
With the cautiousness of a sneaking Palulukan, you attempt rolling off of the hammock and out of his arms to take care of your little problem. It’s only halfway rolling over to your side when the Omatikaya prince shifts and spoons you from behind. All plans are immediately thwarted when his muscular thigh slips between your splayed legs innocently. However, the pressure it incidentally puts against your clit brings forth feelings that are anything but innocent.
A veiny forearm easily clamps around your waist to pull you back against his chest. The act rubs his thighs against your clothed folds so suddenly, that it brings a whimpered moan from your lips. Breath hitched in your throat, you wait to see if Neteyam stirs. He shows no sign of waking so you try to scoot your heated core away from his thigh slyly.
Not only are these efforts unrewarded but also bring a tinge of sadness coursing through you. It’s a strange wave of emotion that follows. Arousal quickly windles into full blown desperation within a few heartbeats. The sensations are overpowering, racing through every surface of your body until all that your mind can focus on is the need to be filled by a mate.
Filled by Neteyam.
“Oh Great Mother.” You curse quietly.
Your first heat.
A momentous milestone that your parents have talked to you in great lengths about yet still brings nothing to light on the reality of the experience. You’ve had smaller mini episodes of heat, normal in the beginning of adulthood for Na’vi betas, but it’s only a laughable comparison to the clawing desire taking over your body currently. As a beta you figured that your own heats would be miniscule compared to the laborious heats that plague omegas earlier in their years.
Involuntarily rocking your clothed core against Neteyam’s thigh you now wonder how these Na’vi have ever survived such a demanding lust and lived to tell the tale. And that is what it feels like. Death if not satisfied. Pain if not satiated.
Embarrassment is thrown out the window in favor of creating a pleasurable friction against your clit. Hardly ever having experienced touching yourself on the rare occasion, you have no idea what to do. The corded muscle of his relaxed thigh feels better than your usual small fingerings drumming against the bundle of nerves, so you continue to rock back in a desperate rhythm.
The hammock starts to sway softly with your jutting hips. Some movements are rewarded with a spark of pleasure, only to then be absent on the next rock of your hips. Frustration is quick to brew as you can’t seem to find the right angle and pressure against your core. Shiny slick drenches through the thin fabric and onto the alpha’s thigh. It acts as a lubricant for your journey across his skin, allowing a faster pace to be adopted.
Your pussy clenches around open air, beckoning for a worthy mate to finally fill and claim you properly. It’s an emptiness that you can only compare to the tingling you have experienced after especially long makeout sessions with Neteyam, but it’s worse. So much worse that it brings tears to your eyes. The only relief is found when a lucky thrust finally has the fabric pushed away from your core and lets your small clit peek out and press against his azure skin.
Now without any barriers, pure ecstasy wracks through your body. It only amplifies when the muscles flex slightly beneath you, giving just the right amount of pressure against your clit. A knot forms and tightens in your stomach, quickly winding until it feels as if it’s about to snap. It feels almost dirty to realize that your slick has now coated the entirety of Neteyam’s thigh all while he is sleeping and yet it lures you further into a state of arousal than you have ever been before.
Your own thighs clench harshly around Neteyam’s to trap it against your core. A release clear on the horizon, every effort is put into maintaining that delicious sensation of your clit being assaulted against the muscle. Legs shaking and small squeaks erupting from your throat you chase that feeling relentlessly.
“Cum, Tanhi.”
Neteyam’s raspy voice pushes you over the edge with a shocked gasp. His rumbling growl of satisfaction seems to pulse through you in sync with the overwhelming sensations of an orgasm.
“Good girl.” He praises as your body trembles in the afterglow of release. Neteyam chuckles when a simple flex of his thighs has a whimper spilling your lips. Swirling patterns are drawn by the alpha’s fingers along your sides and arms.
Mental clarity returns in a flash, allowing the reality of the situation to sink in. You hide your heated face against his arm underneath your head while groaning in humiliation.
“Nete.” You whine.
“Hush, baby girl. It’s alright, no reason to get all shy on me now.” He coos while swiping your hair away from your cheek to finally have an unobscured view of your blushing face. “Especially not when you make such pretty noises.”
The words crumble any wall of resistance against the impending heat. Your body yearns for another release, still screaming at you for not being filled with your alpha’s cock yet. A cock that you can feel hardening beneath Neteyam’s loincloth and poking at your lower back.
“Neteyam, it really hurts.”
“I know, Tahini, I know.” He soothes, softly kissing your temple while brushing the strands of hair away. “My poor little star. A bit stronger than you expected, hm?”
When his thigh finally shifts away from your leaking pussy, despite the strength of your clamped legs, a noise of disappointment escapes you.
“So much worse. Neteyam please!” It’s hard to say what you are begging for specifically, but the alpha is quick to calm your worries with sweet nothings. Your limbs kick out and try to wind around any of his, subconsciously finding ways to trap his body closer to yours.
“If you want help, all you have to do is say, yawne. I know how to take care of my girl.” He turns you by the chin to make direct eye contact with him, a silent second measure to make sure this is truly what you desire. Hesitating is far from your mind as you nod and whine out little pleas.
Satisfied with your consent Neteyam grins and begins to descend down your body. Confusion swirls in your eyes when he situates your legs over his shoulders. The sex talk from your parents may not have been that descriptive but you know enough to realize that his cock is nowhere near your drenched entrance.
“How does that…” You trail off, head tilted to the side.
“Just need to get your ready first, Tanhi. Want my baby girl to feel good.” Pointed teeth poke out beneath his lips in his open mouth grin. The pads of his fingers tenderly brush and tease along your outer thighs, slowly making their way to your inner. Tingles of anticipation and pleasure trickle up your body. It boggles you how such a light tracing heightens your lust to new levels.
“How?”
His face softens and Neteyam coos at you while tucking a strand behind your ear.
“Just trust me, little star. I promise you’ll like it.”
So you do, even when his face lowers to your partly clothed mound. Neteyam’s nose presses against your pussy and he sucks in air like a man on the brink of drowning. Your cheeks set aflame at having his face so close to your special place, something you had never considered before. The rumble of power in his hungry growl, however, washes away any insecurity that would plague your mind.
“Smell so delicious, Tanhi.” He purrs.
Neteyam’s creates a path of wet kisses along your inner thighs. Careful grips on your knees allow him to maneuver your legs into whatever profane position he desires, easy access for his eager tongue and lips. His saliva and your slick become intermixed along the expanse of skin as he takes his time warming you up. Each time his lips come closer to your folds, you whimper needily. Heated lust entraps every thought you have, wondering how long it will be until the two of you finally become one.
The first nips at your left inner thigh causes you to jump. His eyes look back up at you as the pointed tips of those canines teasingly scrape against your soft skin.
“Just a little taste, yawne?” He asks, although the smirk along his lips suggests that it is less of a question and rather a warning.
“A bite? T-there?”
Neteyam chuckles at your clueless behavior. It’s been known among Na’vi to leave obvious hickeys and bites along one’s mate’s skin, but you’ve always assumed that to only be in places more visible and less…private. Your tail swishes anxiously as you think of those marks being so close to your heated entrance.
“Yes, baby girl. A little mark to remember me by, hm?”
A simple nod of your head is all the permission required for Neteyam to continue. He takes one last breath from the hanging mask before picking a spot on your inner thigh where the flesh is supple and tender, licking and kissing and the area in preparation. When his lips close around the plush skin and begin to suck, it sends tendrils of electricity straight to your core. Without even thinking you moan and grab at his hair. You’re stuck between the urge to push his head away and encourage him to suck harder.
Once released, the skin is left with a pronounced purple mark. One lick is deposited on the spot before his teeth nip and tug at the skin. You squeal and arch your back dramatically, Neteyam moans darkly he has let it fall from between his teeth and begin to soothe the skin with kisses and licks. The entire act scratches a part of your brain that is primal, satisfied by the apparent claim he leaves for all to see.
“Much better.” His tone drips with pride. “Thank you, Tanhi.” He kisses your knee in gratitude, as if you have given him some sacred gift, and perhaps for him that is true.
It’s only now that it occurs to you how many times Neteyam has held back from staking his claim on you the way most alphas do. You vaguely remember the indented mark of his own teeth against his bottom lip that would draw blood, especially after you have shared an intimate moment or he saw another male eyeing you for too long. What you had originally shrugged off as a habit now transforms in your mind as an act of self control.
Neteyam is quick but deliberate with his handy work of undoing the ties around your tail and hips. He slides the fabric away from your pelvis with an attitude of reverence. Cool air against your slick folds feels like a tickling touch that has your lust spiking dramatically. Burning eyes on your most sensitive area is like gasoline to the flames.
You attempt to clench your thighs together to protect your dignity, but Neteyam hoists them apart and back on his shoulders sternly.
“None of that, baby girl. Let me see how pretty you are.”
And there’s something in that phrase and his undivided attention that makes your toes curl. It becomes blatantly obvious that if he doesn’t hurry up and get on with sticking his cock inside your pussy, you will fall apart at the seams before there is even a chance.
“Neteyam, I’m ready. Please please I’m so ready.” You ramble, willing your legs apart to prepare easier access. Once he is inside everything will be better, although the thought of your virgin walls stretching around him causes a slight tinge of panic to break loose.
“Mawey, my love. It’s about to get good.”
However, frustration and confusion bubble to the surface again when you see his face lowering back down.
“No no, Nete. Enough kisses.” You whine. “I need you inside.”
His brows push up at that, the corners of his lips perking slightly as if hesitant to fully grin.
“Are you sure, my love? We can still wait if you wa-”
“NO! No more waiting! I’m ready now. I need you right now.”
He calls your name softly, but with a hint of unyielding sternness that lets you know it is important you listen. Even a beta can sense when the time to obey is present.
“You’re heat is a very powerful thing but also fleeting, Tanhi. I don’t want you to make such a big decision purely because of your primal instincts.” It’s a respectful and considerate gesture but your head is shaking before he is even close to finishing. If this man does not take you now, you’re ready to flip him over and sit on his member, inexperience be damned.
“It’s not. I’ve been ready for weeks. W-was just waiting to tell you. Take me now, stick it in now.” The ringing in your ears, you realize is actually the accelerated blood thumping along the eardrums from your racing heart. It feels as if the speed will be enough to burst your ribcage open. “I’m ready.”
Neteyam watches as your eyes clench shut and hands scrape against the woven material of the hammock. You’re braced and ready for the pain that will ensue upon penetration.
“Tahni,” Your eyes slowly peek open to see that the alpha hasn’t moved a muscle. “You love me, don’t you?”
The question throws you off guard, but the answer comes easily.
“Of course.”
“And you know that I love you?”
“Yes Neteyam.” Your hips scoot against the fabric, pussy fluttering as it continues to wait for the incoming sensation.
“And you trust me?”
“Always, Nete.”
The alpha hums happily at your response, muttering out a deep ‘good girl’.
“Then I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing, baby girl. Trust that your alpha will take care of you.” He tenderly brushes his fingers over your soft stomach. “And trust me enough to say if or when something doesn’t feel good.”
You nod hazily, keenly aware of the tickling sensation of his touch along your hips.
“That’s my good girl. Now let me get you ready.”
It’s still confusing when you see his head lower towards your navel once more, but you don’t protest this time. He’s right, you do trust him and he does have far more experience with sex than you by far. Your upturned legs are spread even wider by his broad shoulders as he leans closer and lets the tips of his tongue drag over you from belly button to navel. The saliva line goes down further and further until…oh.
It takes his grip on your hips to keep them pressed against the hammock when his tongue brushes over your clit for the first time. It’s a pleasure that is completely foreign to you. Comparable to the spark of dopamine that comes from your small finger teasing the area and yet completely different in intensity. He draws sensual figure eights along the bundle of nerves several times before swooping down to collect more of your arousal between your folds.
Neteyam is calculated with his exploring, performing in the way of someone who has crafted their art. When his tongue just barely swipes across your entrance your hands fly down to grasp his braids again. This time, however, the only thought on your mind is keeping him down there. His flat nose nudges at your clit with every swipe of his tongue along your pussy.
“Oh my Eywa!” You screech as that knot is quickly being tied again in your stomach.
Neteyam on the other hand becomes focused on another knot, tugging at the twine holding your top in place while still working on your pussy with zealous excitement. With your aid, the dangling top is released and falls to the side. His assault on your pussy pauses for him to trail upwards and lick along your quickly hardening peaks.
“So pretty, Tanhi.” He murmurs against your right nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking. Meanwhile his fingers have taken the place of his tongue and expertly rub your clit. “My pretty little star.”
Gleeful pride twinkles in his eyes as he looks up at you, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your chest. Your small hands grapple at any part of him you can reach, finding purchase on his flexed bicep that holds himself over you.
The connecting lines of your thoughts are tangled into a ball of messy hunger and desperation. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined such strange things to be so exhilarating. A part of you wonders what else was not included in that sex talk.
His head is found back between your legs again once your nipples are red and pointed proudly. Neteyam licks, nips and sucks at your pussy like a starved man. Every moan of pleasure releases vibrations that sky rockets through you. It becomes too much to handle. You’ve never felt more fragile in your entire life than when his eyes connect with yours, one eye winking at you, and you fall apart.
Neteyam’s moan while licking up the white substance pouring from you goes completely unnoticed as the world around you spins and your ears ring. The gravity of this orgasm shakes you to the bones, floodgates of pleasure completely open in your brain.
Although it feels as if Pandora has slipped out from beneath you, the recovery from this release is swift. Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your pussy hungrily clenches around open air once more. It seems that the monster of a heat inside you grows more insatiable with every second. So when Neteyam covers one finger in the remnants of your juices and starts to prod at your entrance, you’re relieved.
“You’re doing so good, baby girl. This may feel strange at first, but let me know if it hurts too much.” It’s hard to focus on anything else besides the shiny slick that still coats his chin as he looks at you, but you manage a nod.
It does feel strange at first, your walls incredibly tight. Getting down to the first knuckle is easy but going towards the second proves to feel a little more strained. Regardless, you are happy to find that getting one finger inside is nothing near as painful as expected. Neteyam wiggles the digit and it makes you twitch. Such a strange sensation to be filled but, the longer he twists and curls his finger, the more you find yourself enjoying it.
“How does that feel, yawne?”
“F-fine…a little strange.”
Neteyam chuckles.
“I know. My girl’s pretty pussy is so tight.” It’s the pride and adoration in his voice that melts you from the inside out. The muscles of your cunt relax against him as he starts to slide another finger in.
This stretch takes a little more time, effort, and praise from your alpha but otherwise it’s smooth sailing. He scissors and stretches your walls with due diligence, even as the dark pupils of his eyes overtake the gold color. By the third finger, you’re clawing at his braced forearm and begging for his cock. Neteyam doesn’t immediately give in, reminding you of the importance of being stretched out for him. Frustrated by his noble intentions, you aren’t beyond playing dirty.
“Alpha please! Need your cock so bad, it hurts. Feel so empty.” The begging turns into sweet tones of whimpers. You can see the shift of his muscles as they tense. His pheromones take on a stronger hue, one that surrounds you like a cloud. Your small hand reaches down for him, fingers grasping in open air. Neteyam is quick to use the hand not half way up your pussy to hold your own, looking up at you. “You said you’d take care of me, alpha.”
Perhaps in a situation not distorted by desperate lust and the sweet scent of your erotic perfume Neteyam would be tempted to put you over his knees for trying to manipulate him, but the clenching of your velvet walls around his fingers is enough to keep him focused on being balls deep inside of you instead. You can see the moment that his resolve crumbles to ashes, it’s accentuated by a deep growl and narrowed eyes.
You watch with hungry eyes as Neteyam hastily claws at the strings of his loincloth. It’s a wonder that it doesn’t rip underneath his harsh fingers but it finally falls away and your pupils dilate at the sight. His length stands heavily against his stomach, curving slightly under its own weight. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you observe the freckled stars that glow under the dim light of the room and scatter over his shaft till reaching the tip. A bead of precum is settled there and for the first time, you understand the desire to put your mouth in such sinful places.
Neteyam preens under your awed attention, his hindbrain purring in delight at seeing his little mate impressed with what he has to offer. His grin widens when he notices your hand hesitantly reaching towards it. You stop, however, before getting to touch.
“It’s ok, Tanhi. You can touch.” The three fingers leave your entrance with a squelching sound. Neteyam confidently keeps eye contact while licking the digits clean with a soft purr, then that large hand is wrapping around your own and leading you towards his twitching member.
Even with Neteyam’s guidance, you’re unable to wrap the entirety of his width in your grip, but he doesn’t appear to be bothered by it. In fact, a devious spark lights in his smile as he watches you struggle to hold it. Although, you will probably never admit it outside of heat, you too enjoy the dramatic size difference between the two of you. On more than one occasion you have let your arousal ruin your loincloth just from having his large body completely wrapped around your own, tucking you away so easily.
A small gasp leaves your throat when his cock twitches in your hand. Neteyam can’t keep his cooing laughter in as he pets affectionately at your hair. He pauses to take a breath from the mask while still smirking.
“You see what you do to me, baby girl?”
The taste of iron erupts in your mouth and it is only then that you realize you’ve been crushing your bottom lips between sharp teeth.
“Is it…uncomfortable?” It feels silly to be so bashful after having his lips along your pussy moments earlier, but you can’t help but keep your voice down to a whisper. You thank the Great Mother for the privacy that the scientists have allowed the two of you over the past few days. There would be no recovery for your dignity if they were to walk in on this scene. Heat or not, being whiny and oblivious is embarrassing.
“Hm, sometimes my love. If relief is not given.” He guides your thumb to run over the head. “Mostly it gets my thoughts traveling to tempting places. Imagining all the different ways I can have you laid out for me.” The weight of your eyelids seem to increase with every word he speaks. His other hand running up and down your inner thigh only adds to the lust filled daze that has captured you.
“Wondering what you would taste like.” Being the cheeky alpha that he is, Neteyam doesn’t let the opportunity pass by without reaching a few digits down to his soaked thigh and swirling the substance between his fingers. He simultaneously continues to help you jerk his thick member slowly while sticking the dripping fingers into his mouth profanely.
“My imagination, however, doesn’t do it justice.” He hums with delight, his pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect any escaping juices. “My thoughts are merely a facade in comparison to the real thing. They can’t do you justice.”
You subconsciously tighten your grip around him at the words, causing a low groan to rumble from his chest. Another trickle of slick coats your entrance. You’re in absolute awe at your body's ability to get close to cumming just from the dark noises and words that spill from your mate’s lips. Not to mention the twitching weight of his cock restrained in your hand.
“Then stop imagining and come here.” You leap forward and capture his lips with your own. Neteyam’s hum of surprise morphs into a viscous growl as your tongues fight for dominance. The little gasps and groans that slip into the kiss as you pump his cock is electrifying. It’s borderline addicting to see that way the mighty Omatikaya Prince bucks his hips for you. A sense of power to know that you can get him melting like this.
Never breaking the kiss, Neteyam shuffles your body forward and the two of you start to guide his cock towards your fluttering pussy. All forms of trepidation are gone. Your body screams from every pore that you can take it. You trust these instincts as the thick head of his member prods at your entrance.
Your lips part against his mouth in a gasp when the head slips past your entrance. Slick walls stretch in ways that you couldn’t have imagined and it feels as if you are about to be split in half. Neteyam continues to kiss and nip at your lips gleefully while carefully continuing to guide himself in inch by inch.
“You’re being such a good girl for me.” He coos as your eyes scrunch shut tightly. It feels as if the length will never stop, as if he is about to reach your chest from the inside, but Neteyam is patient. He takes his sweet time checking up on you with every inch and soaking his tone and words with constant praises. It does this trick, scratching at that primal desire to please your alpha.
When his balls finally meet the curve of your ass, little whimpers rain from you consistently.
“N-nete, so b-big.” You cry, forehead touching his own as you struggle to take in ragged breaths. He forces you to take a breath from the mask hanging from his neck.
“I know, baby. So perfect and tight around me.” His own voice shakes slightly. “God damn!” The english phrase sounds like gibberish to your ears but you understand the sentiment nonetheless.
Settled there to let you adjust, your head lolls to his shoulder. When his cock twitches, you clamp your teeth down on his exposed shoulder to stabilize yourself. Neteyam encourages the oral fixation through hissed words of praise. Tears spill from your eyes but it’s hard to say what the source of your crying is. The stretch is uncomfortable but you can’t deny the certain tinge of pleasure that courses through you when a slight shift reminds you of how full your pussy is. Eventually, your heat takes the edge off, rewarding your ability to secure a mate with a pulsing clit and dripping entrance.
It takes a moment to realize that Neteyam is calling your name, you eventually snap out of it when his lips murmur it straight into your flicking ears.
“Hand me your kuru, baby.” Your hands obey on their own accord. “Want you to understand how good you feel, Tanhi. How happy you make me.”
When those dancing tendrils wrap securely around one another, your eyes go from sleepy slits to dilated pupils of awe. It never becomes old being able to feel Neteyam so closely. To feel his breath and strength. To have his own emotions coalesce with yours. A vulnerable certainty of how he is feeling. In this state, neither of you can hide. There is no deceit. There are no polite formalities. You both have direct access to the other’s soul.
This time, a new current of sensation travels through the bond. It sparks into growing forms of ecstasy that makes you groan. It’s a strange thing to accept, but you can feel your own tights walls secured around him. Hugging him so tightly in the warmth of your cunt, velvety texture caressing him with every shift. Underneath that pleasure also grows an unyielding lust that pricks at his self control with every passing second. His hindbrain is screaming at him to move. To claim. To fill your womb with his seed until it drips out from you.
It’s better than if the words had come from his own lips. It sets you into a feral need to complete these fantasies.
“Can you feel me, baby girl?” His arms are securely wrapped around your middle to keep you tight against him.
“Yes Nete, feel all of you. Need all of you. W-want you to move.” The ability to form coherent sentences starts to slip between your fingers. Neteyam, however, requires no further instruction. Your back hits the hammock once more as his strong grip clasps around the soft flesh of your hips. The mask is settled over your lips by the alpha before he continues.
Slowly, but surely, he draws out with smooth and continuous thrusts. Your cunt clenches around him almost painfully, as if to keep him locked there. Once the tip is just barely past your entrance he starts to slide back in smoothly. The prolonged thrusts eventually angle in a way that hits a bundle of nerves inside you that has never been explored by you before. Neteyam moans in sync with you as he can feel your own pleasure every time the head of his cock rubs at the rosy spot.
It spurs him forward. You don’t have to explicitly tell him to go faster because he can feel it straight through the bond. It allows you to focus the energy you have left on gripping his shoulders for dear life. A brutal rhythm begins to take place, your legs wrapped around his waist.
“Oh Eywa!” You screech. The obscene noises of skin slapping fills the room along with Neteyam’s loosed growls and grunts.
“That’s not my name, Tanhi.” The alpha teases, but you can feel the aching desire he has to hear his own name upon your lips. To have the auditory satisfaction of knowing he is pleasing his little mate.
“N-neteyam oh haa Nete!”
His precision at hitting your g spot increases. Neteyam learns your body with an impressive speed. One hand comes up to palm and tease your breasts in his large hand. His eyes switching back and forth between watching his cock disappear inside of you and marveling at the nipple hardening between his pinched fingers.
Everything starts to become a blur for you. The origins of sounds are unknown. Several times you are surprised to find that the high pitched screams are coming from your own throat. Your body shakes and trembles as if it is about to shatter into a million pieces. And that is what you come to truly believe as it overwhelms your senses. It is so consuming and new that you start to sputter little pleas of mercy to your mate, convinced that you truly will die from this overload of sensations.
“It’s alright, Tanhi. You’re alright. Just let go for me. Let it all go.”
Your hair tangles in the woven material of the hammock as you shake your head. Neteyam thrusts become ragged and less coordinated but he slips a hand down to fondle at your clit. You scream and arch, cumming harder than ever before. Neteyam is less than a second behind you, feeling the effects of your orgasm through the bond. Warm ropes of seeds paint your inner walls.
The first normal sense that comes to you is the feeling of Neteyam’s heavy and warm body collapsed on top of yours. Heated breath tickles at your neck, intermittent with sweet kisses and nonsense murmurs. You let yourself bask in the afterglow. Your body is sore and motionless, but luckily Neteyam takes over. Only a tiny sound comes from you when he slips out.
“Come here, tanhi.” Your boneless body is pulled to lay on top of him. Soothing affection swims across the bond when you nuzzle your face against his chest. The swing of the hammock and rhythm of his heartbeat is quickly luring you to sleep.
Neteyam grabs your hand and kisses it sweetly. You can vaguely make out the sound of his voice, but the words are like garbled noises which never compute in your brain. It’s hard to say whether or not it’s english or if you just can’t understand simple words now in your fucked out state. Still, you like the way it makes his chest rumble.
“Neteyam.” The rumble stops, tail flickering as he waits patiently.
“I see you.” Your words are barely more than a whisper in the stuffy room but they ring true. He gently places the breathing mask over your lips again before your eyes close.
“You’re all I see, little star.”
Taglist @yurmomsawh0r @nilahsstuff @name-saken @luvv4j4ybe11 @stylishtoast @karateperson @henhouse-horrors @easy2004 @whisperingwillow0854 @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @neteyamtesuli
#withered#neteyam x reader#alpha neteyam x beta reader#alpha neteyam#fem reader#neteyam fanfiction#neteyam smut#neteyam angst#neteyam fluff#neteyam sully#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x na'vi reader#protective neteyam#possessive neteyam#omegaverse#avatar wow#avatar smut#avatar fanfiction#avatar#avatar wow neteyam#angst#fluff#smut#dad jake sully#mom neytiri#cute tuk#kiri sully#lo'ak sully
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Hi it’s @feelmyskinonyourskin (can’t ask off anon cause I’m a side blog) I’d love to order a macchiato over ice from Frank please!!!! Congrats on 4K!
hi darling! thank you so much!
I appreciate you giving me the freedom to discuss all my slutty thots about frankie. I think one thing that doesn't get talked about enough is that frank secretly likes it rough so let's discuss
as a reminder over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)
headcannon below the cut
frank castle secretly likes it rough
i've said it once & i'll say it again, i'll die on this fucking hill: frank castle is a hopeless romantic. he's an old fashioned, brings you flowers on the first date, arrives fifteen minutes early, opens every door for you, doesn't hesitate to pay the tab, doesn't expect you to invite him inside, perfect gentleman
he's a giver. he makes sure his partner is well taken care of before he even thinks about himself. in all the flashback scenes with maria, she's on top, & frank is letting her set the pace & do whatever she wants
in his scene with beth, we see a snippet of something similar to that but, we also see a hint of frank exercising a bit of control. the way he grabs her face where he's essentially grabbing her neck & face bc his hand is so damn big, how he's gripping the sheets, pinning her to the mattress completely- he's clearly holding back bc he probably doesn't wanna go too far & scare her, but there is another side of him that is dying to come out
it's something you catch onto, & something you wanna explore. not that you don't love slow & sweet romantic sex with frank, or flirty playful sex when a few drinks have loosened him up, but you want something more
but frank being frank is never going to ask you to let him be rough. it would make him feel selfish to use your body for his own benefit. he's also terrified of going too far & hurting you. he's so violent & dangerous in so many other aspects of his life, & he never wants you to see that side of him
but you know that frank would rather die than hurt you, so you make it your mission to convince him that he doesn't have to hold back anymore
one night while you're laying in bed, both of you half undressed, frank lying between your hips as you two share a heated & sensual kiss, his hand glides downward from your cheek to your neck, giving it the faintest of a squeeze before letting go. reaching out to grab his wrist, you pull back & stare up at him
"stop holding back."
frank looks down at you in pure puzzlement. he doesn't understand what you're talking about. he cocks his head to the side & searches your eyes for an answer
"stop doin' what?"
maintaining eye contact with him, you bring his hand back to your throat, placing your hand on top of his and squeezing it to show him that it's okay
"I know there's a part of you that wants more, and so do I. you can let go, frank."
when he catches on to what you're saying, his confusion melts into a serious look of apprehension, & he starts to shake his head
"sweetheart-"
you expected him to protest, so you already have your argument ready. you're not backing down from this
"frank, you're not gonna hurt me. you don't have to treat me like i'm made of glass. you can be rough with me. I can take it."
frank doesn't budge. he's still got that apprehensive look in his eyes, but you also see a flicker of need. you squeeze his hand one more time over yours to show him that this is what you want too
"I know what my limits are, frank. if it's too much i'll tell you, and I trust you enough to know you'll stop."
frank is silent for a moment, & you're worried that he's going to keep being stubborn. but then you notice how his eyes darken, & the low timber of his voice makes you shiver
"you promise you'll tell me the second I do somethin' you don't like?"
your eyes light up with excitement that frank is actually considering it. nodding your head eagerly, you stare up at him, feeling heat spread throughout your lower half
"I promise."
those two words of consent make something inside of him snap. this time when he captures your lips, his kisses are more aggressive & demanding, & they travel down the column of your throat. he bites down on your neck, not hard enough to hurt you, but just enough to leave a possessive mark behind that makes you squirm. he soothes the sting with his tongue & continues his assault on your neck, savoring the noises it pulls from you
his large hands are everywhere. squeezing your breasts, gripping at your hips, kneading your thighs, leaving faint bruises behind in his wake, all evidence of him completely giving in to his own desire
normally frank eases into you & gives you a moment to adjust, but not tonight. as soon as his thick cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, he's snapping his hips relentlessly, pounding you into the mattress
one of his hands holds both of your wrists, keeping them pinned above your head, and his other grabs your neck. his thumb is on the left side of your jaw and his index finger is on the right side, holding your face in place, while the rest of his fingers are wrapped right around your pulse point applying a little bit of pressure. frank always wants to be able to see your face when he's fucking you, but especially right now. he wants to make sure you're enjoying this as much as he is, watching you closely for any sign of discomfort
but all he sees is your mouth hanging open & your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. incoherent moans are leaving your lips, & your cunt is squeezing his cock in a tight grip. it makes the last of his resolve vanish & he's leaning in to grunt in your ear, speaking in a low & rough voice
"this what you wanted, baby? wanted it rough like this, yeah?"
frank is repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you that only he's ever been able to reach, the one that makes supernovas explode behind your eyelids & renders you speechless. he chuckles darkly at your inability to speak
"look at you, takin' my cock so well. bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? lettin' me have you like this?"
the room is filled with the echoes of skin slapping against skin, frank's feral grunts, & your incoherent moans that keep rising higher in volume & pitch. frank has you completely at his mercy, pinned to the mattress beneath his large body, hands held captive above your head. you can't move, not like you even wanted to, & you can't hardly speak to tell him how close you are, but he knows. he always knows
"gonna come already, sweetheart? you like it that much? shh shh shh...I know baby, I know you do. I can feel it, yeah? such a good fuckin' girl. go on baby, come for me. you've earned it."
frank fucks you through your orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he's still relentlessly thrusting, & even though it's overstimulating, it feels too good to want to stop. he groans in your ear when he feels your walls tighten around his cock & flood him with your release, but he hasn't come yet. gripping onto your hips even tighter, his thrusts somehow get even rougher, & in a matter of minutes you're barreling towards another orgasm
"want ya to give me one more, sweetheart. you can do that for me, yeah? c'mon, be a good girl and come for me again. that's it...that's a good girl...that's fuckin' it baby."
only when he feels you come for the second time does frank finally give in to his own release. his hips stutter as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, grunting loudly while he's emptying himself inside of you
while you're trying to catch your breath, frank gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, a stark contrast to how he was grabbing your throat just minutes ago
"you alright, baby? wasn't too much, was it?"
all you can do is let out a breathless laugh, staring up at him in a haze of bliss and incredulity
"are you kidding me? I can't believe you've been holding back on me this whole time."
frank just looks down at you with a huge grin on his face, leaning in to kiss you softly
"I won't anymore, if it makes ya happy."
once again, i need to be put down like a rabid dog
#court's 4k followers celebration#court's 4k friends celebration#court's cafe#frank castle#frank castle x you#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x fem!reader#frank castle x f!reader#frank castle headcannon#frank castle request#frank castle smut#the punisher#the punisher headcannon#the punisher request#the punisher smut
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could u do 2008 tom getting in an argument with the reader and after arguing a lot, the reader just tries to go to bed. after a couple mins, tom realizes he was wrong and tries to climb in bed with the reader and is like super clingy and tries to touch the reader but gets ignored. and he’s all like “yk how i get when i can’t touch you” AUGHH😩😩 and then it’s js smut that ends with fluff/aftercare
btw ur my fav writer ever i absolutely adore ur writing 🖤
LET ME SHOW YOU - T. KAULITZ
synopsis: you are tired of arguing, deciding to go to bed before things get too out of hand. tom realises that he has messed up, but you are being stubborn, still not over what he has done. he doesn’t give up so easily, begging to get what he wants.
content: angst to smut, little bit of fluff throughout.
a/n: thank u so much that really means a lot!! love this idea, i hope u enjoy!💞
“you know what? i’m done. i’m tired of explaining this to you when you clearly don’t get it.” i huff, shaking my head and running my hands through my hair.
“you’re right. i don’t get it. you’re mad at me for doing my job!” he shoots back, eyes cold and dark, jaw clenched as he stands across from me on the other side of the kitchen.
“you can’t be fucking serious! don’t paint me as some clingy selfish girlfriend when all i’m asking is that you don’t come home at midnight every night, and go straight to bed! it’s like we aren’t even together anymore. we live in the same house but we never talk, never communicate. you only show me affection if it’s a quick kiss or hug, or you want sex.” i rant, fuming at his lack of mindfulness, failing to believe how he is so oblivious.
“what so we’re just lying now, is that what this is?” he scoffs, taking a breath before continuing. “cause you know that’s not true. i always hug you, kiss you, tell you i love you, don’t i? and you know that i value you way beyond sex, so don’t even go there.”
“you’re completely missing the point!”
“then what is the fucking point?”
his voice raises far higher than mine, louder than it ever has before. he would never raise his voice at me, not like this. my mouth opens, tears clouding my vision as i am taken aback at his sudden outburst, but he doesn’t seem to care, my silence only seen as an invitation to keep going.
“hm, what is the point? you’ve always known that my job demands a lot of me, and i told you that it would be difficult, but i’m trying my best. if i could be with you more, i would. you know that we’re pushing to get this album perfect, so can you give me a fucking break and stop acting like i’m some awful boyfriend?” he shouts, anger laced within every word, each one stabbing me right in the heart, making me feel stupid for even bringing this whole conversation up. i just missed him, but he couldn’t seem to understand why.
i nod my head, pursing my lips together as the tears cascade down my cheeks.
“okay. i’m going to bed.” i whisper, not waiting for him to respond, turning away from him and leaving the kitchen, trudging up the stairs towards our bedroom. he doesn’t follow me, instead i hear a loud bang come from the kitchen, his fist colliding with the counter as he curses in frustration.
the room is strangely cold as i walk into it, completely dark with little natural light coming through the window despite the curtains still being wide open, reminding me of how late it is - and how long i had been waiting for tom to come home. my feet walk along the carpet, the floorboards creaking a little until i arrive at my bed, climbing into it and letting the covers embrace me, instead of tom. i feel numb, not enough energy in me to cry, yet too upset to just sleep it off. instead, i stare out of the window, the cityscape invading my eye line as i try to distract myself from what had just happened, watching the world around me as it moves on and on, wishing that i could do the same.
the door slowly creaks open, my head turning in its direction as tom walks through it, his expression one of pure regret. he is silent, not saying a word as he goes over to the mirror, taking his cap off and placing it gently on the dresser, taking his dreads out of their ponytail, his eyes suddenly meeting mine through the mirror as i stare into them.
“baby can we talk?” he says, still looking at me through the mirror as he removes his shirt, folding it neatly and leaving it on top of the dresser, his bare back facing me from across the room.
“about what?” i scoff, finally breaking the eye contact and laying down, staring motionlessly at the ceiling. “you were pretty sure of what you said, there’s nothing else to speak about.”
my gaze still fixed on the ceiling, i hear him step away from the mirror, walking cautiously towards the bed. i feel it dip beside me, before two arms snake around my waist.
i roughly pull away from his grip, taking his hands and shoving them back in his direction, not falling for his attempts to iron out the tension, especially ones that involve him putting his hands on me.
“baby…you know i didn’t mean any of that.” he calmly speaks, trying again to touch me, this time taking my hand in his. once again, i refuse, shuffling even further away from him.
“can you not touch me? i’m not in the mood for your shitty apologies just- go to sleep.” my voice is harsh, hurt taking over his expression as i speak, but i don’t feel an ounce of sympathy for him. instead, seeing him experience even a fraction of the sadness that he had just put me through satisfies me.
“leibe…please listen to me. i’m so sorry.” he begins, turning onto his side so that he is now facing me. “i’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately, you don’t deserve that. i’ve just been so caught up with the album and it brought me away from you, but i shouldn’t have let it. please baby, please forgive me. i’ll never let this happen again.”
as he comes to the end of his speech, his hand tentatively reaches for my cheek, his thumb trying to stroke the skin, but i move backwards, becoming irritated at his ignorance.
“are you deaf? stop touching me tom!” i ignore his apology, because right now, it means nothing to me, his initial words still a fresh wound. no apology, no matter how sincere, would be enough to make me forget them just yet.
“schatz, please, you know how i get when i can’t touch you. don’t accept my apology, don’t talk to me, i get it, i deserve it. but please my love, just let me hold you, that’s all i want.” he begs, his voice reducing to a whisper as it cracks a little.
his love language had always been physical touch, and, even when we were fighting, he would always hold me whilst we slept, no matter how mad i was. i knew that me refusing his touch was getting to him and, despite me being completely infuriated, it was impossible to ignore the slight pang of guilt that settled in my heart as i listened to his pleas.
i say nothing, moving a little closer to him, leaving enough space so that he would have to reach out to be able to touch me. he takes my silence as a yes, inching his body closer to mine, his arms pulling me tightly into him, his head resting in the crook of my neck. i feel him relax a little, his shoulders dropping as he pulls me further into his embrace, holding me so tightly that i can feel his heartbeat from within his chest. his breathing tickles my neck, his head snuggling into it as he takes in my scent, clearly having missed being this close to me. but still, i say nothing, giving him this small sense of comfort though anger still courses through my veins, in no position to forgive him just yet. however, it is impossible to deny the security i gain from his embrace, the way his hands run comfortingly up and down my back giving me a sense of contentment that only he can bring.
“i love you. i love you so much.” he whispers into my neck, planting a short and soft kiss there. “you’ll never understand how much i love you baby, you’re everything to me, my whole world.”
his hands begin to caress my lower back, travelling downwards and giving my ass a soft squeeze as his lips plant slow kisses on my neck and collarbone, all whilst he continues to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, pouring his heart out whilst his movements begin to increase - making his intentions crystal clear.
“tom please, not now. i’m still mad at you.” i say, trying to keep my voice stern, but an elongated sigh pours from my parted lips once his find the spot below my ear that makes me go crazy.
“you won’t be once i’m finished, i promise baby. just let me show you what you mean to me, mhm?” he asks, pulling his head from my neck to look into my eyes, a glint of desperation present within them.
i study his features, starting at his brown eyes - warm and enticing, looking into mine with so much admiration, so much love. his skin, smooth and flawless, unable to count how many times i have felt it against mine. his lips, soft and inviting, decorated with a small metal ring, loving how it would always feel against me, the harshness of it always contrasting with the warmth of his lips as they would move against mine.
and it is that small glance that makes me give in, my hands reaching for his head as i pull it downwards, quickly joining his lips with mine. he is taken aback, but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss me back, cupping my face with his hands and bringing me in even closer, our bodies merging as one.
he pulls away, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he begins to gently remove my clothing, starting with my shorts, kissing upwards until he reaches my hoodie, that soon following, leaving me in only my lingerie.
“so perfect.” he mutters, pecking my lips. “you’re so beautiful meine liebe, you know that?”
my cheeks heat up at his words as they spill like liquid gold from his pink lips, our fight feeling further and further away. it becomes harder to imagine that it ever happened, the way he touches me with such care making it seem almost impossible.
his clothes already off as he always sleeps in just his boxers, he reaches to remove his underwear, turning his attention to my own panties, letting them join the existing pile of clothes scattered around the room.
he moves to the top of the bed, sitting with his back resting against the headboard, gently picking me up and placing me into his lap as i straddle his waist, hands resting his shoulders as i stare into his eyes, a little nervous as i am never usually the one on top.
“tom i-”
“shhh, you’re okay, just ride.” he comforts, moving loose strands of hair from my face, placing a reassuring kiss on my lips.
i nod hesitantly, lifting my hips up and sliding down onto him, moaning as i take him in, my walls stretching as they become accustomed to his size. tom’s head has fallen backwards, fingers digging into my hips a little as his lips are parted, no noise escaping from them.
once i am used to his size, i begin to bounce slowly, picking up a steady rhythm as tom continues to hold on to my hips, helping me move.
“doing so well baby. just like that.” he sighs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut.
it doesn’t take long for my legs to ache, no longer able to continue moving up and down, already tired. my movements are slow and lethargic, almost half-hearted as i try my best to keep going, chasing my release as i crave it more than anything, tom clearly feeling the same as his hold on my waist only tightens, his grip strong enough to leave faint marks on the skin.
“i can’t.” i whine, frustrated that i can’t keep going, completely spent. i fall forwards, collapsing onto tom’s chest, still inside him as he slowly thrusts upwards into me, his arms wrapping around my back as he kisses my forehead.
“you did so good baby, don’t worry.”
those are the only words he says before swiftly flipping us over, my back flush against the mattress as he begins to thrust into me at a relentless pace from above, my mouth falling open as loud moans pour from it, his name a mantra as it effortlessly falls from my lips. he hits places within me that have never been touched before, so deep inside me that i can feel him in my stomach, a small bulge visible as he moves in and out of me.
“love you so much, fuck-” tom groans, his hands on my thighs as he kneads the flesh, prying them further apart as the pleasure prompts them to try close around his waist.
“getting close baby, you close?” he mutters, moving his head so that his forehead is against mine, eyes studying my face as he awaits my response.
all i can do is let out an almost inaudible ‘mhm’, so close to my release that i can almost feel it, the knot in my stomach ready to burst any second. the way his dick twitches inside of me tells me that he is there too, his thrusts irregular.
“let go schatz, cum for me.” he says, watching as my face twists in pleasure, my release washing over me, the pressure of his coming at the same time too much as i squeeze my eyes shut, hands clutching onto his upper arms. my entire body shakes, the feeling overwhelming, mouth open in a silent scream as tom moans into my ear, still rocking in and out of me slowly, riding out our highs.
i am completely spent, laying motionless beneath him, my throat raw from the sounds that had emitted from it, breathing heavy and reckless. tom pulls out, wiping a few tears from my eyes that i hadn’t even realised had fallen, kissing the skin afterwards.
“you okay baby? you did so good, did i go too hard?” he says, my mind not fully registering what he is saying as i am completely exhausted, eyes starting to flutter shut. “you can’t sleep yet, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
i manage a weak nod, feeling tom lift me up bridal style, carrying me into the bathroom and carefully placing me on the counter. he walks over to the bath, turning the taps on and letting the water run, before rushing back over to me, taking a damp cloth and wiping me with it as a jolt when he is a little too rough, the area sensitive.
“sorry baby.” he mutters, kissing my forehead, separating my legs and moving to stand between them, embracing me in a hug and resting his head on top of mine whilst the bath fills up, small ‘i love you’s’ escaping his lips as he rubs my back, trying to soothe me in any way he can.
after a couple of minutes, he picks me up, gently placing me in the bath as the water submerges me, the warmth of it already easing the aching pain that runs through my body. he climbs in behind me as i sit between his legs, my back against his chest.
he washes my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp as my head falls backwards onto his shoulder, the feeling relaxing me even more, completely at peace in his arms. he moves to my body, carefully washing the delicate skin, planting occasional kisses on my shoulders and back as my breathing slows, on the verge of falling asleep.
he sees that i am too tired to stand up myself, picking me up and carrying me out as i wrap my arms and legs around him. he finds a towel, setting me back on the counter and drying my body, leaving the bathroom for a second and returning with some fresh ‘pyjamas’ - which consisted of a random t-shirt of his and some clean panties.
“come on baby, put these on then we can go to bed, mhm?” he says as i lift my arms up, allowing him to place the t-shirt onto my small frame, the material hanging off my figure as it reaches my knees. he takes my panties, moving them up my legs slowly, my hips bucking upwards so he can fully put them on me, finally putting his own underwear on.
he takes me to the bedroom, tucking me into bed and placing the covers over me, climbing in beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist as i cuddle into him.
“i’m so sorry for everything. i love you.” he whispers, kissing my hair softly.
i mutter a small ‘love you’ against his chest, falling asleep within minutes, completely exhausted.
requests are open! keep sending them in!!
#tom kaulitz#tokiohotel#tom kaulitz angst#kaulitz#tom kaulitz fluff#kaulitz twins#tom kaulitz smut#tomkaulitz#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz
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You will become it
pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader
summary: When Frank lets the stress of the holidays get to him, he accidentally pushes you away.
Based on the prompt that @hellskitchenswhore posted about: Thanksgiving or Christmas Day with either Matt or Frank, inspired by the quote "If you’re raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. You will find him even when he is not there"
warnings: swearing, descriptions of anxiety, allusions to past trauma
a/n: Ugh I could write a MILLION of these because it's so relatable. I hope that this brings you all some comfort this holiday season.
w/c: 3.1k
To no one’s surprise, Frank fucking hated the holidays. After losing Maria and the kids, it was just a horrible time of year filled with bitterness over the gap in his life and the fact he’d never have a normal winter again.
He tended to throw himself into his vigilante work, bringing the most permanent form of justice to assholes all over the city. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent alone, unless you considered his guns valuable company, eating bland food and steeling himself against the shitty weather because he was too stubborn to buy a thicker coat.
But then he’d met you.
Karen had introduced you over the past summer, sort of. He’d stumbled onto the blonde’s fire escape in the middle of the night—startling the two of you who were having some kind of girls’ night after a tough week. And once Frank had collapsed, unconscious, onto the metal grates he stood on, Karen was forced into an explanation to prevent you from calling the cops.
You’d adjusted to the knowledge that your best friend was willingly helping a fugitive faster than anyone expected—immediately jumping in with wide eyes and assisting Karen as she cleaned and dressed Frank’s numerous wounds.
When he came to, he was settled on Karen’s couch, blankets draped over his lap. Across the room, you sipped from a wine glass as you flipped through the pages of a book. He’d hoarsely asked what you were reading and, after the initial shock from him speaking to you had worn off, you’d smiled and asked if he wanted to read with you.
Frank was eternally smitten by your thoughtful nature. You were an angel on earth and, for some fucking reason, you were determined to brighten Frank’s life with your company, though he repeatedly reminded you that he didn’t deserve you. Despite his bumbling compliments and gruff personality, you’d eagerly agreed when he’d asked you out to dinner a week after meeting you—and you’d been together ever since.
You hadn’t been dating long, your relationship still fresh enough to count the months spent together on one of his rough hands, but his perpetual grouchiness was slowly being chipped away by your adorable smile and apparent need to spend the majority of your time tucked against his side.
Frank had fallen head over heels for you at the speed of light, so saying “no” to your sparkling doe eyes when you batted your lashes at him was damn near impossible. Which was how he found himself in his current predicament.
While out at a bar with you and your colleagues at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, Red—always the antagonist—had smugly asked him if he intended to spend the holidays with you. It wasn’t a secret amongst your circle that you weren’t overly close with your family. One too many bad memories had resulted in a quieter holiday season without said family, a preferred alternative to the hours of manipulation and abuse you’d previously endured during the winter months.
Frank was aware that you didn’t have family plans for Christmas, perfectly comfortable welcoming you into his house for an intimate few days complete with fantastic food (that the two of you would cook together) and cuddling in front of the fireplace as you nodded off. You agreed that it had been the perfect way to spend Thanksgiving, so Frank had assumed you’d be alright having a similar Christmas celebration.
And maybe you would have, had Karen not suggested that Frank host a Christmas celebration at his place for a larger group.
“Frank, you’ve been bragging about the turkey you cooked for a week. It’s honestly rude of you to withhold that from us.” She remarked, smirking at his resulting scowl.
“And on the holiest day of the year too.” Murdock shook his head, shit-eating grin spreading across his face as Frank scoffed.
“Fuck you, Red. We don’t wanna host your sleazy ass for Christmas. Right, sweetheart?” Frank’s confidence had vanished when he saw your bashful shrug.
Avoiding his gaze, you picked at the label on your beer bottle. “I dunno, Frankie. I don’t think I’d mind a few more people…” Your voice was quiet, hesitant, but there was a hopeful edge to it that he couldn’t ignore.
It took him all of 3 seconds to cave to your apprehensively optimistic gaze, his heart melting as you bit your lip nervously. “Sure, darlin’. What the hell?”
He was regretting his hasty agreement now, though.
Standing in his kitchen, surrounded by Karen, Matt, Curtis, and—thankfully—you on December 23rd, trying desperately to get the cheese sauce for his mac and cheese to combine properly as the four of you drank beer and laughed boisterously around him. As always, you were more helpful than anyone else, offering soft praises and sweet smiles as you cooked side by side, but Frank’s irritation was steadily building and even you couldn’t stop it.
It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well all week, familiar nightmares viciously overtaking his subconscious as soon as he closed his eyes. And the lack of sleep, combined with the way his head was pounding as he worried over the pot on the stove, meant his patience was thinner than a fishing line.
“For fucks sake, thought y’all were here for a goddamn reason. Is this a social event now?” Frank groused, whirling around to face the four people in his kitchen as yet ANOTHER cheese sauce failed to form smoothly.
You all fell silent, though everyone but you rolled their eyes at his grumpy tone. Not used to this side of Frank, your face fell—eyes widening as your partner barked orders, creating a much different atmosphere than the peaceful one that had surrounded your perfect Thanksgiving. Shuffling backwards a step, you stood rigid as a statue as Frank scowled.
“Karen, wash the China I took out. Curt, chop those veggies. Murdock, peel those potatoes.” He pointed to each of them in turn before turning to you. “And clearly I can’t make this shit to save my life so you figure it out while I iron the table cloth.”
Nodding dutifully, you removed the pot behind his hips from the heat, scraping the lumpy bechamel into the trash before making another roux. You knew Frank didn’t mean to snap at you, he was just on edge about hosting the gathering. No one else was concerned about his demeanor, so why should you be? Trying to quell the churning anxiety in your chest, you diligently completed every task you were given, silently whipping up a number of sides as the sun began to set.
Eventually, the five of you had prepped everything but the turkey, including the decorations and table set up. Waving farewell to the other three sous chefs, you lingered by the door as you closed it behind them.
You and Frank had previously agreed that you’d stay over for a few nights to watch Christmas movies and bake cookies, your two favorite traditions that you hadn’t shared with anyone for a few years. However, after witnessing his clear frustration, you were apprehensive. Did he still want you to stay?
Because of your history with men taking their anger out on you, Frank’s discontent had brought out a side of you that you never wished to experience again. You were still pretty sure he hadn’t meant it, but your certainty was fading by the minute.
Stepping back into the kitchen, you began scrubbing at the pots in the sink as quietly as possible, hoping that if you handled the rest of the work in silence, Frank wouldn’t have any reason to be upset with you anymore. Unfortunately for your nervous heart, Frank’s mood wasn’t quite over.
“The fuck are you doin’,” Came a harsh voice from behind you.
Willing yourself not to startle, you stayed facing the sink, your back to your raging boyfriend. “Just cleaning up, love.” Your voice was meek, but it luckily didn’t waver.
“And I ain’t capable of doin’ that myself?” His stern response hit you like a brick. Shutting off the faucet, you wiped your hands on a towel and turned to face him, brow furrowing in confusion.
“Of course I think you’re capable. I wanted to help you, I—“
“It’s funny, really. Y’all wanted me to host this goddamn thing and you don’t think I can do my own fuckin’ dishes?” Frank looked at you, incredulously. He never asked for your pity.
“Frankie—“
“I don’t need your help. Get out.” He said, jerking his head to shoo you out of the room.
Choking on an inhale, your eyes stung with unshed tears. “O-ok, Frankie.”
As he restarted the stream of scalding water, you gathered your things and headed out into the night.
Turning off the tap, Frank dried his hands before surveying his kitchen with a satisfied nod. Banishing you from the kitchen was rude—he knew that—but, ultimately, it had allowed him to unwind while efficiently tidying up the sprawling mess that had manifested during a day of cooking. Exhaling forcefully, Frank felt a pang of guilt in his gut as he remembered how abrasively he'd treated you today. Ready to beg for your forgiveness, and offer a few ways he might be able to make it up to you, he strode over to the couch where he figured you were laying.
“Sorry for kickin’ ya out of the room, sweetheart. Guess I needed a minute to calm down. Did ya still wanna watch a movie?” Rounding the arm of the couch to kneel before you, Frank was hit with a wave of dread as he was met with the sight of empty cushions. Treading into the bedroom, his bed was similarly bare, and his bathroom was dark and vacant.
Heart rate spiking, he spun around in the main room of his apartment, looking for any sign of your whereabouts. Your purse and coat were gone. You’d left, but why?
Suddenly, a chilling thought occurred to him as he replayed your previous conversation.
“I don’t need your help. Get out.”
He hadn’t clarified that he still wanted you here. You thought he had demanded that you leave the apartment altogether, not the kitchen while he worked.
Shit, shit, shit.
Scrambling for his phone, he snatched his keys and flew down the stairs as he dialed your number. The phone rang endlessly as he sprinted to his truck down the block. Eventually, he received your voicemail. FUCK.
Turning his keys in the ignition, he called again. “C’mon, darlin’. Please pick up.”
Getting your voicemail again, Frank growled in frustration, before his screen lit up with a text.
You: Hey, bubba. I can’t talk at the moment. Is something wrong? Are you alright?
Closing his eyes in relief, and gritting his teeth as he was smacked with another wave of guilt, he cursed himself. “Of course I’m not alright,” He thought to himself, “I sent you away, sweetheart.”
Flicking open his phone, he hastily typed out a question.
Frank: Are you at your place?
You: Yes, love.
Frank: I’ll be there soon.
Speeding down the city streets, Frank couldn’t help but wish he’d realized his mistake earlier. Maybe a flower shop would've been open then.
Chewing absently at your thumbnail, a new rush of tears rolled down your cheeks. God, you were such a coward. You’d avoided Frank’s call because you simply couldn’t handle him yelling at you for whatever you’d done to upset him. Instead, you’d texted him, hoping to hide behind a wall of messages as he explained your mistake. But it hadn’t worked that way, he was coming here. To scold you. Maybe even break up with you.
The thought of Frank leaving you because of something you’d unknowingly done to offend him forced the air from your lungs with a sob. Desperately trying to get your emotions under control, you threw back the wine in your glass as you stared blankly towards the door.
The footsteps in the hall were deafening, each one sending a chill down your spine as you willed your aching legs to hold you upright. A key scratched in your lock and the door slid open, the large shadow of your boyfriend extending into your apartment. Huffing out a breath as he addressed you, Frank frowned at your tear-streaked face.
“You cannot just leave like that,” He explained, shutting the door with a loud bang that made you jump. “Did you walk home? It’s dark out!”
Frank stepped forward, reaching his arms toward you and ice flooded your veins as you responded to the familiar motion.
Stumbling backwards, you curled in on yourself. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” Tears splattered on the floor beneath your downcast face. You were trembling, terrified of being screamed at, or worse.
That was when it all clicked for Frank. Your wide eyes as he bossed you around. The way your jaw remained clenched for hours as you cooked. The lack of your giggles and quips and smiles for the majority of the day. You were afraid. He’d made you afraid.
“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice broke as you sobbed, just out of his reach. Each of your choked inhales broke off another piece of his shattered heart. “Oh, honey, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.”
Crouching in front of you, keeping enough distance to hopefully not spook you further, Frank brought his hands into a placating gesture. As he exposed his palms to you, you looked at him with glassy eyes. “Darlin’ I’m not upset with you. I ain’t ever been upset with ya, not once. I was grouchier than normal today and I didn’t realize I was being too cruel. I ain’t mad, sweet girl. Could never be mad at my sweetheart.”
You nodded, but didn’t seem to be registering his words. Crumbling to the floor in front of him, you were practically hyperventilating at this point, stuttering through apologies between shallow breaths.
“Sweetheart, you’re gonna choke. Let’s sit on the couch for a minute.” Supporting your weight as you collapsed into his chest, Frank scooped you up and carried you over to the couch. He settled down, sitting your shaking body in his lap. Shushing you gently, he tucked your head under his chin, running a broad hand along your spine. “Breathe, sweet girl. Can’t have my baby suffocatin’ because of my dumb ass.”
Breathing deeply to demonstrate the action for you, Frank eventually felt your body still, your inhales evening out.
“‘M so sorry, Frankie.” You whispered hoarsely against his neck.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for, my beautiful girl. You were just tryin’ to help. I’m sorry for bein’ such an ass.” Pulling back from you to study your face, Frank brought a hand up to cradle your jaw as he swiped away the remaining tears from your damp cheeks. “I didn’t mean to send ya home, darlin’. I just wanted you to sit on the couch while I cleaned up.” Continuing quickly as he watched your lips part with another apology, he added, “That ain’t your fault either. It definitely seemed like I was kickin’ ya out. That’s also on me.”
Nodding hesitantly, you leaned into him with a tired sigh. “Ok.”
“Did ya want me to leave, sweetheart? I know I scared you,”
“No!” Your hand came up to grasp his jacket, clinging to him fearfully. “Don’t leave me, Frankie, please.”
“Hey, hey, I ain’t leavin’ unless you want me to, darlin’.” Frank promised, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’m here as long as you’ll put up with me.”
“I don’t want you to leave.” You murmured, tracing a finger over the folds in his lapel.
“Then I’ll be here.” He assured you, stroking a hand over your back once again as he reclined, tugging you on top of him and covering you both with a blanket from the back of your couch. “Right here. Always.”
The pair of you sat in silence for a spell, focusing on getting your breathing back under control. Eventually, Frank pressed another kiss to your head before offering an explanation. “I shouldn’t have snapped atcha, sweet girl. I was tired, and irritated, and I let it out on all of you. That ain’t fair and I’ll try to keep my cool next time.”
Nodding gratefully against him, you mumbled a quivering “Thank you.”
“Of course, doll. I scared ya when I kicked ya out?” He asked, hoping you’d clarify so he could prevent this panic in the future.
“Mmhmm.” You confirmed. “I, um, I don’t do well when people raise their voices. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be sensitive.”
“Hey now,” Frank admonished as gently as he could. “I like my sensitive girl. I’ll try not to yell. I didn’t know it would bother you so much, darlin’.”
You shrugged. “People got angry with me a lot when I was a kid. Especially the men in my family. Maybe I was an easy target, I don’t know. But I jump to conclusions now because of it.”
“That makes sense, honey. That’s your brain tryin’ to protect you from big scary guys like me.” Frank joked, but you poked his chest.
“You’re not scary,” You chided. “Just big.”
He chuckled at that. “Well, I’ll try to keep bein’ ‘not scary’ and promise to listen whenever you choose to warn me about this stuff, ok?”
“Ok.” You agreed, lips twitching into a faint smile as he brushed his nose into your hair. Turning your face to his, your lips met in a sweet kiss.
“Have I done anythin’ else that bothers ya?” Frank asked, fear sparking in his chest.
Shaking your head vehemently, you snuggled into him. “No. You’re wonderful.”
“Ok. Just tell me, darlin’. I never want ya to be afraid of me.”
“‘M not afraid of you, Frankie. Promise.”
“Ok, sweetheart. Did ya wanna go to bed, or stay here for a bit?”
“Could we go to your place?” You asked timidly.
“Of course, love. But only if you let me carry you out to the car. My poor girl has had a rough day and it’s my job to make that up to her.”
You giggled. “Mmm kay.”
Frank spoke quietly to you as you traveled back to his apartment, talking about the book he was reading and what he was excited about for the holiday. You remained quiet, the exhaustion of your panic attack weighing on you, but you were filled with a pleasant warmth as Frank shared more of himself with you.
Once he’d carried you into his home and tucked you into bed, you were barely awake.
“Sleep well, sweetheart. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Comforted by Frank’s rumbling promise, you drifted off, dreaming only of his smiling face.
#frank castle#frank castle x reader#the punisher#frank castle imagine#frank castle x female reader#frank castle x you#frank castle fanfiction#the punisher imagine#the punisher x reader#jon bernthal#jon bernthal fanfiction#frank castle headcanon#frank castle headcanons#my writing#fc
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Adventure: Shadow of the Harvest Moon
Most imagine the shadowfell as a dreadful and dreary place, but there are islands of solace in the underworld, such as the realm of Dwindlehearth which manifests as a pastoral village rendered in an eternal autumn sunset. It is a place where those who were lonely in life find kinship in the folkish festivals put on by the attendant spirits, where those too stubborn to accept the end can work themselves to satisfied exhaustion in the fields before retiring in comfort, and where those never had enough can stay in on a rainy day and enjoy a filling meal by a warm fire. It is a good death, a good afterlife, the sort we would wish for those we loved dearest to allow their memory to fade most gracefully.
But Something is wrong in Dwindlehearth
Rot spreads through the fields and the shades can find no solace, foul things stalk at the edge of dark woods, clouds cover the face of the ember-warm sun and part to reveal a cold and leering moon, too low and with it's own strange, superntatural gravity.
If the dead are to know peace once again, something must be done.
Hooks:
After their latest bout of occupational grave desecration the party are called upon by the deathgod Nerull to help sort things out, whatever's causing the problem is hidden from his sight and he'll forgive them their literal and figurative trespasses if they can root out whatever corruption is twisting his pastoral realm into a nightmare.
Most shades in Dwindlehearth have varying levels of awareness, identities growing hazier the closer they get to moving on. The rot seems to remind them of all their regrets and failings, preserving their worst aspects while the rest of them atrophies. This is to say nothing of when the night descends unexpectedly, and those shades worst affected transform into monsters, or nightmarish hauntings.
Investigating the source of the corruption will prove difficult, but perhaps the party can get the aid of one of the attendant psychopomps ( most of whom are busy fighting the rot and fending off incursions from unseen enemies at the village's border) or by taking inconstant direction to seek out Dwindlehearth's mayor ( a position the psychopomps have no memory of appointing) who turns out to be a still living necromancer resided on an estate that she's transported to the middle of the death god's domain (especially if the party encountered hear early in the campaign). She's willing to help, but only if the party put in a good word for her with Nerull, as she's grown to quite enjoy the surroundigns.
Behind all the problems in Dwindlehearth is Zuggtmoy, demon queen of despair and decay, who saw the pastoral stillness of the village as the perfect place to spread her stagnation. Her influence drives souls to bitter, resentful, remembrance, priming them for transformation into foul minions.
Speaking of Minions, Zuggtmoy's influence was carried to the village by the departed soul of one of her priests, a poet mired in morbid melancholy by the name of Blaine Blackstem, who got one of the psychopomps to carry him over Nerrull's wards. Blaine was never a good poet, but his mistress's gifts and the nightmare landscape have transformed him into a looming scarecrow figure, striding through the fields sowing rot and then taking grisly inspiration as how the souls twist.
A number of Zuggtmoy's other fiendish minions probe the border of Dwindlehearth just waiting for a large enough breach to pour in, Blaine aims to accommodate them by creating an army of pumpkin monsters and setting them lose to overwhelm the psychopomps leaving the village undefended.
Art 1 Art 2 Art 3
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Sick Sevika HC's
With all the work and running around that she does, Sevika cannot get sick. She doesn't have the time and she cannot afford it.
And yet, here she is, lying on your couch, sick as a dog. She already tried to sneak out of bed, thinking that you were asleep and that you won't notice her cute sniffles or muffled coughs.
Little did she know, you saw this coming. When she came home the night before, she was uncharacteristically quiet and looked a lot more worn down than she does after a long day at work. You tried to ask if she's alright and if she's hurt but she just brushed it off. You knew something was truly wrong when she hadn't eaten all of her dinner. Now she loves your cooking and she is honest enough that she'd tell you if you used too much or too little spice or if it was undercooked. Instead, she just said that she's not very hungry and went off to shower, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Then when you both went to sleep, you noticed she was a lot warmer than normally. Don't get me wrong, that woman is a furnace but you've slept in her embrace way too many times to not take note of her unusually high temperature.
Well figuring that she's going to try and ignore her sickness and sneak off to work like nothing is wrong, you managed to wake up a bit earlier than usual. After waiting for her to get out of bed, you also got up to prepare some medicine and your best reasonings for why she should stay at home.
At first she scoffed at you and tried to convince you that she is perfectly healthy, but she saw from your angry and stubborn hands-on-hips stance that you saw right through her and, knowing you, you weren't going to let this go no matter what she says.
''Fine, but I'm only taking today off.'' ''Shut up and eat your soup, Sev.''
Will never admit it but she's thoroughly enjoying you taking care of her like a mother hen. She never had someone worry this much or care about her wellbeing. She especially likes it when you check her temperature by softly bringing your lips to her sweaty forehead.
At the same time, she feels quite useless. She loves being the protector and the provider, so she feels quite lost once the roles are reversed.
You make sure she's all bundled up and comfortable on your couch. You remind her to take her medicine and drink plenty of water. You cook some delicious chicken soup and soothing tea or milk and honey for her throat. You make her a lovely, relaxing bath and softly wash her hair.
When you refuse to let her smoke while she's sick, she honest to God whines. This would be perfect blackmail but even if you tell anyone, they wouldn't believe you.
When nighttime comes, you offer to sleep on the couch so she can sweat out her fever and sleep in peace but of course, she won't let you.
''But Sev, what if I get sick?'' ''I'll take care of you baby, don't you worry your pretty little head about it.'', she'd try to convince you. You'd sigh and get into bed with her, knowing that she can't even make simple soup with burning down your kitchen.
This continues for a couple more days, even if she was convinced she'll get better after one day. You take care of her and spoil her rotten. Because of this, as big of a workaholic that she is, she doesn't want to go back to work.
If only you two could stay like this forever, taking care of each other, cuddling and sleeping in. But alas, duty calls and soon she is nursed back to health and goes back to her usual routine.
But that's okay, because she knows that no mater how many times she gets hurt or sick, you'll be there to take care of her and love her endlessly.
After all, you did make a promise to one another; in sickness and in health...
#arcane#sevika#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika imagine#arcane x reader#sevika x you#sevika headcanons#sevika x y/n#sevika x female reader#arcane headcanons#sevika x reader fluff#arcane sevika x reader#requests are open
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Scathed 8 (Javier Peña)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, idiot(s) in love?, curly hair care (all you curly girls with straigh hair mothers know the painnnnnnn,)
Notes: shoutout @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and for being sad for these characters
Words: 3809
Series Master List | Author Master List
Journal Entry
July 16, 1994
This summer has been good, surprisingly so. I went to the fair this year. Usually, the kids just go with Dad and Anna. We’ve done movies, and events downtown, and busy Saturday mornings at the hardware store. It doesn’t mean I haven’t puked afterward, but having Javier around has been nice.
Oh, and I registered for classes at the community college. I start at the end of August.
Emily sat on her bed, flipping through the photographs taken over the summer. Most of them were ones she’d taken, but every once in a while, one of the kids got a hold of it. They held evidence of the summer she’d been able to give her kids, and Javier was in almost all of them.
As she flipped through the final few of the stack, the last photo stood out. Her birthday, the one Ale had blinded her with. It turned out nicely. Her smiling at Javier, him smiling at her over the flaming candles, caught before they could react to the flash. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from it. A singular, perfect, magical moment caught on film.
She dropped the rest of them in the shoe box for safekeeping until she was ready to put the photo book together. The birthday one she slipped between the frame of her vanity mirror. She wanted a reminder of that day
“Mommm!” Miguelito called, opening her door.
Emily jumped, hand landing over her heart as she turned toward him. “How many times have I told you to knock?”
“Sorry.” He grinned. “Mateo isn’t getting ready like you said, and he’s making a mess in our room.”
She glanced over her oldest’s appearance, folding her hands over her chest. “And you’re completely ready, could hop in the car right now, I suppose?”
“I still have to brush my hair and teeth.”
“Then I suggest you go do that.”
Miguelito folded his lips in, looking to the side before he spun on his heels and walked away. Emily laughed to herself before making her way to the boys’ room to check in on her youngest. Sure enough, he sat next to the toy chest, playing contently with his new Playmobil set.
“Mateo,” she said, voice soft.
The boy’s head snapped up to her, a sheepish grin appearing.
“Are you ready to go?”
“No,” He shook his head, somehow still managing to look innocent.
“I put your clothes out on your bed an hour ago.”
“I’ll get dressed now.”
“Thank you.” She nodded, holding out her hand. “I’m going to hold onto your Playmobil until you’re ready to go, okay? So you don’t get distracted.”
Mateo looked between his new toy and his mother, not wanting to part with it. Emily waited with patience as he made his decision. “Once you’re ready, you can have it back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Emily smiled. With the added assurance, he handed the toy to his mother and rushed over to his clothes. “Don’t forget your hair and teeth.”
“I won’t!”
Emily smiled, leaving the room as a shirt went flying. Alejandra found her seconds later, brush and hairties in hand. “Can I have two braids today?”
Emily glanced down at her watch. They were already running behind. What was a few extra minutes at this point? “Go sit at the table.”
Alejandra had a big stubborn knot at the back of her head. That was what Emily got for not brushing it out before bed last night and the night before. The detangler bottle was all but empty. Alejandra had more hair than her mother and that was saying something. Emily let out a long sigh as she soaked the knot with watered-down detangler. “You’ve got rats nest back here, Mija. I’ll do my best, but it’s probably gonna hurt.”
Alejandra only nodded. The mother and daughter duo were more than familiar with the process, both individually and together. Emily had her own memories of sitting at the kitchen table as her mother brushed through massive knots, leaving her hair massive and frizzy. There had been plenty of tears in her younger years before her scalp toughened, Her mother hadn’t known how to handle the texture or the amount of hair she had. Looking back at pictures, Emily knew exactly when she began caring for her own hair as a preteen.
It was Emily’s goal to make this time as painless as possible for her daughter. It didn’t mean there weren’t ever tears. Ale’s scalp had started out tender, but Emily was sure to be as delicate as possible, using as much detangler and conditioner as needed, being gentle with the combs, teasing the curls back to life afterward.
Emily didn’t yell or fuss when her daughter tried to get away from the pain. The mother did her best to distract from the pain with jokes or stories. Overall, she shaped the hours of hair care into quality time, something she’d always wanted her mother to do with it.
“Mami?”
“Yes, baby?” The comb caught on an extra ratty tangle. Alejandra hissed. “Sorry.”
She reached back, rubbing her scalp gently before allowing her mother to continue. “I think we need to do that conditioner treatment thing again.”
“I think you’re right.” Emily kissed her head. “I’ll put it on the list. It helped a lot.”
Ale nodded. “Do you think Mr. Javi is going to think we ditched him? We were supposed to be there already.”
“I think he’s very used to us being late.” Emily laughed, freeing the last of the tangle with a deep sigh. She sprayed the hair again, letting it curl up a little before she began to part it.
“I think we should call him.”
“He’s probably at the park already.”
“I’ll leave a message. Just so he knows I was worried when he gets home.”
Emily rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing the phone off the wall behind her. The extra long cord lay flat on the floor between the wall and table. She handed it to Alejandra. “You know the number?”
The girl gave a firm single nod as she quickly dialed the number having memorized it at the beginning of the summer. She kicked her legs back and forth, bare feet brushing the legs of her chair under the table. Emily tied half of the curls to the side. “Look up at the ceiling, Ale.”
She obeyed, pressing the phone to her ear. Emily could hear it ringing as she focused on pulling all of the baby hairs around Ale’s hairline into the tight French braid. “Boys! Time to put on your socks and shoes!”
“Hello?” Javier’s static voice came through the phone.
Ale’s eyes lit up as she sat up a little straighter. “Mr. Javi! You’re supposed to be at the park already!”
He chuckled. “So are you, Alejandrina.”
“Yeah, but we always run late. You don’t.”
Emily shook her head, trying to hold in her laughter as she efficiently twisted Ale’s hair into the braid with minimal flyaways. Nothing like being called out by your own kid.
“I was just about to leave my house. What are you doing right now?”
“Mami is braiding my hair. I had a big tangle, otherwise, we would’ve been almost on time.”
“Well, that means I need to get going if I want to beat you there.”
Emily tied off the first French braid.
“Drive fast 'cause she just finished my first braid.” Alejandra tilts her head back again so Emily can start the second.
“Do your brothers have their shoes on?”
“Nope, still in their room.”
“Boys!” Emily called again. Javier’s chuckle came through a little louder. A faint Coming echoed from their room.
“He’s laughing at you,” Ale grinned up at her mother.
“Tell him to shut up.”
Ale’s eyes grew wide. “But I’m not allowed to say that. It’s not nice.”
“One-time exception.” Emily winked.
Alejandra bit her lip. Her honey-brown eyes sparkled with brief debate. Was she really being given permission? “Mami says to shut up.” She said it quickly like the permission might expire.
Javier kept laughing, it coming from deep within his chest this time. Emily let out a groan as she scrapped the braid and started over. The second one never cooperated like the first.
“I’ll see you soon,” Javier said.
“See you soon,” Alejandra replied and the line went dead. She handed the phone back to Emily who placed it back in the cradle. “We gotta go fast so we can beat him.” She wiggled excitedly in the chair.
The braid slipped through Emily’s fingers again and she let out a frustrated groan. “I’m trying, Mija. Boys!”
Finally, two pairs of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Mateo grabbed his toy off the table with a proud grin. “Tennis shoes with the laces, Mateo.” She reminded him.
Mateo groaned, dropping his velcro shoes where he stood. He was about to start kindergarten in the fall and she was desperate to get him ahead on the shoelace tying assignment. She’d learned her lesson from Alejandra’s kindergarten year. She’d essentially homeschooled Miguelito through Kindergarten in Mexico and managed to skip that assignment.
“I’ll help you,” Miguelito said.
Despite having to start Alejandra’s braid over for a fourth time, Emily found herself smiling as she listened to Miguelito’s patient and encouraging exchange with his younger brother over the tying of laces.
The flyaways weren’t as wrangled in the second braid, but finally, Emily tied it off. The Texas heat and sweat would pull them out soon enough. “Alright, shoes my dear.” She kissed Alejandra’s head
She popped out of the chair, pulling her shoes on as quick as possible. Matoe kicked his feet back and forth on the couch wearing a huge grin. “Done!”
“He did the second one all by himself!” Miguelito exclaimed, looking proud.
“That’s amazing,” Emily smiled brightly, smushing Mateo’s cheek with a kiss. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
“Okay! Let’s go!” Alejandra said, panting as if she’d used all her energy to pull on her shoes. “We have to beat Mr. Javi!”
The family of four bustled out of the house, with only one person having to run back in for a forgotten item. Alejandra was certain they would beat Javier to the park until they pulled in next to his faded red pickup. He leaned against it, arms crossed, sunglasses on the tip of his nose, and shirt half unbuttoned as usual.
Alejandra sighed exasperatedly with a loud huff. Javier smiled, waving to her through the window as she glared at him. “He definitely speeded.”
“Sped,” Miguelito corrected.
Javier stuck his tongue out at Alejandra from the other side of the glass. She mimicked him. Emily bit back a laugh.
They set up their picnic under the shade of a large oak tree set off the playground. The park was relatively quiet for a Saturday with only one other family nearby, but they knew it likely would be. That’s why they picked it. Set outside the city limits, it was a longer drive for the Kuykendall crew, but closer to Javier.
After lunch, Emily and Javier were pulled into a game of Blind Man’s Bluff which ended when a blinded Javier knocked his head against the monkey bars. Luckily for the adults, the children from the other family asked to join.
“How’s your head?” Emily laughed, falling to the picnic blanket, laughter still lacing her voice.
Javier rubbed it, easing down with a soft groan. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get off the ground between his aging bones and the hot summer day. “Been better but I’ll live.” He eased onto his back, letting the faint breeze ease over him.
Emily grabbed a water bottle from the cooler. handing it back to him. Cool droplets splashed over his chest and head. Javier placed it against his carotid artery, humming with contentment. “It’s hotter than I realized today.”
Emily nodded, pulling her hair out of the loose ponytail. “Should probably make the kids come cool down before too long.” She dug into the cooler again, searching for her own water bottle.
Javier’s eyes followed the sway of her curls. His hand floated up of its own accord, letting one twist gently around his finger. Emily didn’t even notice. He sighed softly. He needed to tell her. The thought passed as his heat-soaked brain caught up and he let it drop. The feel of her soft hair against his skin stayed.
“They should sleep good tonight.”
“We all should,” Emily sighed, pressing the water bottle to her neck.
“Nightmares been keeping you up?” Javier asked, easing into a sitting position.
“Not as often as they had. You?” She glanced at him, pulling her hair over one shoulder.
Javier bit his lip, arms slung over his knees. A pit formed in his stomach. He knew he had to tell her. He couldn’t put it off any longer, not when he had a date circled on the calendar. “A little more the past week.”
“Something happen?” Javier looked away, a newfound interest in the tree to their left. His brow creased, frown lines appearing around his mouth. Emily felt the air shift. She fought the fight or flight response itching to life inside her. “Javier?”
He swallowed, pulling his attention back to her. “The DEA offered me a position,” he huffed, pulling up some of the grass beside him. “Hell, it’s a promotion really, back in Colombia. They want me to help take down Cali.”
Emily’s heart dropped. She tried to hide the dread that filled her, but he could see it. “When do you leave?”
“Never said I was going.”
“Didn’t have to. You wouldn’t be actin like someone died if you weren’t.”
Javier finally met her eyes through the light tint of his sunglasses. She chewed on her lip, eyes glistening even in the shade. “I’m sorry,” he said. His arm settled across her leg, hand hanging on her calf. Their thighs pressed against each other. Even in the scorching heat, neither minded.
“When do you leave?”
“August 5th”
Emily looked away, eyes tracking each of her children on the playground. They still played happily with the other children, having moved to a regular game of tag. “How long?”
“Contract’s for a year. Could be longer though. Just depends.”
Her gut twisted in a million tiny knots. She had so many questions. Some for him, and some for herself. Would she still be able to do all these things without him?
“You didn’t tell me they’d offered you a position.”
It was a silly thing to say. He didn’t owe her anything, but she felt a little hurt he hadn’t told her he was even considering it. “I didn’t think I would at first, but they kept calling and I-” Javier took a deep breath.
“You realized you had unfinished business.” She met his eyes again.
Javier sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah…”
She nodded, leaning into him slightly so their shoulders touched. He squeezed her calf softly as she wove her arms through his. The breeze picked up a little, providing some relief. Slowly, her body leaned into him more. Emily hesitated only slightly before letting her head drop to his shoulder.
Javier looked at it, almost in disbelief as the faint smell of her shampoo drifted his way. His heart pounded in his chest as his brain ran wild, setting off all the signals like he was a teenager asking his crush to homecoming. He hadn’t felt this way in years.
He wanted to press a kiss to her forehead. He wanted to do more than that, but the better-behaved part of his brain warned against it. One day, maybe he could kiss her head like well-meaning friends do, but not now. He wasn’t in the position to be a well-meaning friend today, and she had still hesitated to fully relax into him. Instead, he settled on resting his head against hers.
She kept her eyes focused on the kids. He kept his on her.
“Don’t forget about us, Okay?” She said.
Javier nudged against her softly, a soft smile ghosting over his lips. “Never. Couldn’t break Alejandra’s heart like that.”
She laughed and his heart lifted. “She’s grown quite fond of Mr. Javi.” She nudged him back, looking his way again. The whole world melted away when she looked at him like that.
Javier chuckled. He tucked a runaway curl behind Emily’s ear, careful not to linger. “Hope she’s not the only one.”
“I mean I think the boys will miss you too, but they don’t seem to have the same… affinity for you,” Emily winked at him. “that Ale does.”
“And my best friend?” Javier said. It was the first time the words felt painful to say like they didn’t cover the full scope of what Emily was to him.
“Will miss you greatly.” She squeezed his arm. “Not sure how I’m gonna function without you really.” She said it with an air of humor, but they both knew there was a real question buried under it.
He searched her eyes, racking his brain for something to say, but nothing came.
The kids came running back, Alejandra running through their bubble first followed by Miguelito, and then Mateo lagging behind on his shorter legs.
“Everyone needs to sit and drink some water,” Emily instructed.
Javier thought she might pull away, switch instantly into mom mode as he’d seen her do so many times, but she stayed against him as the kids followed her instructions with heavy panting.
Javier smiled taking in the scene. It made him wonder if he was doing the right thing. He had doubts about going back to Colombia, but the pull to finish it once and for all had outweighed them all. This right here, balanced the scales, tipping them in the other direction even.
Without warning, Alejandra gasped looking directly at the adults. “Don’t move.”
She dug around in Emily’s bag, pulling out the Polaroid camera Emily toted everywhere. Ale had as big of an affinity for taking pictures as her mother.
“Ale, I’m all sweaty,” Emily said as her daughter held it up.
“No mami, you look beautiful,” She chastised. “Now smile.”
“Do as the lady says.” Javier chuckled, shifting so his arm was behind Emily’s back as he let a genuine smile overtake his face. Emily’s hand fell to his knee. She sighed, but obeyed, smiling at the camera.
Ale shifted around, making sure to get the correct angle until finally the camera flashed. She announced it was “perfect” before the photo had fully spit out of the camera and placed it carefully in the case Emily kept for developing photos.
Javier chuckled next to her as he slowly pulled away from her. Even in the sweltering Texas heat, Emily missed him next to her.
Emily lay in bed that night, sheets kicked to her feet. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. Javier was leaving. Leaving Texas, leaving her, and he didn’t know when he was going to be back. What if he didn’t come back? The thought turned her blood to ice, sparking the flame of anxiety. She shot up, sweat gathering across her skin as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn’t go there, couldn’t let the thoughts consume her, but they already had. Try as she might, none of her usual tools worked to combat it as images of Javier lying in the street with a bullet hole filled her brain.
Finally, she pulled herself out of bed on shaky feet. She grabbed a stray pack of cigarettes and a lighter off the table on her way to the backyard, barely keeping it together long enough to flick the lighter to life and inhale the smoke. Her shaking steadied with the first hit of nicotine. The rhythm of it gave her mind a distraction, pressing the butt to her lips, the orange glow at the tip, smoke filling her lungs and then releasing into the air. She hadn’t smoked in months, deciding to stop when Javier did, but tonight none of that mattered. He was leaving her.
The door opened behind her. She spun around to find her father, looking disheveled in his boxers and opened robe with his hair sticking up. He lifted an eyebrow. He returned the gesture, holding out his hand for the pack of cigarettes. She handed it over with the lighter.
Jaime methodically pulled one out, flicking the lighter with more ease and steady hand than Emily had moments before. The father and daughter stood next to each other, their silhouettes copies of the other in the moonlight.
“Haven’t caught you out here in a while.”
“Was I loud?”
“Rattled the whole house when you slammed the door.”
Emily cringed, taking another drag from the cigarette. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
She waited a second, flicking the ash. “I’m guessing you already know.”
Jaime sighed. “I knew he was offered it. Just found out he accepted last evenin.” Emily bristled slightly. “It’s just a year, Sweetheart.”
“No, the contract is for a year.”
Jaime turned toward his daughter. She looked like the Emily he’d known before the spring, the one who was scared and jumpy all the time, not the blooming flower he’d come to know in the past few months. The difference was night and day. He didn’t want to see her go back to that place.
“Em…”
“What if he doesn’t make it back?” Emily interrupted him, letting the internal thoughts become external. “What if he gets shot or worse, and I never see him again?”
He reached out, putting an arm around his daughter. He kissed her head, rubbing soothing circles against her back. Tears gathered in Emily’s eyes.
“He’s good at what he does.”
“Even the best agents get killed.”
Jaime nodded. He’d know some of those. He kept his mouth shut and let Emily talk. That was what she needed anyway. She talked through all of it until she started leaning into him more, words slurring with sleep until she all but fell asleep standing against him.
He smiled, guiding his grown, sleepwalking daughter through the house. He tucked her into bed, all the nights he missed when she was little flickering through his mind. It was these nights when it hit the most. The what ifs. What if he’d pursued more legal action against her mother? What if he hadn’t let the DEA whisk him off to Guadalajara without a custody agreement? The guilt of it all never left him.
He pushed the hair out of her face, setting one last kiss on her forehead. As he closed the door behind him, he heard her soft, slurred words. “Goodnight, Dad.”
He smiled to himself. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
#javier peña x ofc#javier peña fanfiction#Javier peña#Javier peña narcos#scathed (javier peña)#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro stories#pedrostories#Javier peña series
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you asked and I deliver (I am exceedingly partial to “there are hybrid hunters and they are an active threat” osmp settings so be forewarned)
He spends a long time making bolt holes and hideaways around the valley, stocking them with weapons and food. When confronted, he says they’re in case of emergency for if hunters find the valley. They’re actually for the worst case scenario (the hybrids finally get fed up with having a human in their midst and run him out of town like he thinks he deserves) the rest of the crew finally put together their actual purpose only after Ran and Tubbo get angry one day after he messes with one of their projects. They yell loud and long enough to drive him into a panic, he vanishes, and the crew have to organize a party to find him before the hunters do.
They find Techno in the woods a few months after noticing the hunter’s traps seem to be sabotaged without their intervention. He gets cornered by a group of hunters, gutted and left for dead, and they barely manage to keep him alive. Niki is the first one he sees when he wakes up. he compliments her hair, and she decides right then and there that he’s staying.
Techno grew up in a mixed hybrid family and when they were captured, suffered a lot of scarring. He spends the first few months of his time with the osmp crew pretending to be a hybrid with his hybrid features surgically removed, because he’s afraid they won’t accept him and he can’t go back to the humans who did that to him in the first place.
None of the crew think about how dangerous it is for someone who can’t fly, can’t breathe underwater, cant shrink, and can’t teleport to navigate the floating islands and high bases. Techno manages through sheer stubborn grit for a while before a nasty fall takes him out of commission for a month.
He’s painfully touch-starved for a really long time. It takes a lot of late nights and awkward hugs before Phil sees him staring at a preening circle longingly and realizes touch starvation is also a human thing. He now gets to participate and they play with his hair until he passes out.
he’s usually barefoot. He’s also always got a few knives on him.
Ranboo has a lot of hair jewelry and Techno borrows it regularly. He’s the only one that’s allowed.
Okay okay okay, I'm munching and crunching on these as if they are a bowl of little snacks for me
Ough that one is painful but so so accurate to Techno's character. I wouldn't be surprised if the hidey holes are kind of meant for both, though at the end of the day Techno figures for a long while the hybrids are a bigger threat to him than other humans just because his expectations are so low
HSKJSQJHSQJSQQS YES nice and whumpy, perfect human!Techno osmp backstory
We've been over this but human!Techno pretending to be a hybrid is always tasty
YEAH, I love the 'accidental whump through oversigh' thing so much. Nobody is actively trying to make the commune hostile to Techno, it just is by design and he's too stubborn to mention it until he gets seriously hurt hehe
hsqkhqjqssq UEUEUEUEUE yes
I feel like walking around barefoot is such a bad idea he's gonna lose some toes. Good for him tho!
Peerpressureduo my beloved, I think Ranboo used to have long hair and then cut it off at some point (maybe because long hair was a sign of enderman royalty and they're doing the whole 'disowned by my shitty family' thing). Their hair is now a little above shoulder lenght and they still wear a lot of hair jewelry, but they love braiding Techno's hair and making it pretty and such. It's like, recontextualising something that used to be painful because it reminded them of their family
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soft | ❤️
; optional female lead fluff | ☁️
// drabbles based on the prompt "soft"
; but i love you
Soft is when her arms wrap around you just before falling asleep. She giggles a good night because it’s too late and everything is funny and carefree and perfect with you in her bed, between the comfort of warm blankets and kisses she leaves on the back of your neck to have goosebumps forming along your skin.
“Go to sleep,” you whisper in a tired voice, a sleepy grin on your lips when she pulls you just a bit closer to her body. Her fingertips dance along the hem of your nightshirt, ghosting over the flesh just beneath your belly button. Her touches warm your skin even further, feeling so at ease, so perfect in her arms.
“Not until you kiss me,” she argues, just as sleepy but she’s a bit too stubborn and feels like she can’t waste a second when you’re together. It’s a fact she would lose sleep if it meant just one more kiss from you, one more glance into your eyes, or one more I love you giggled beneath the covers.
“You’re impossible,” you groan as you roll over to face her, giving in because how could you not? She smiles in the dim lights of a busy city shining through the bedroom window. Your grin widens seeing her so happy, leaning closer to leave the remnants of your love against her lips, and leaving her content enough to fall asleep with her arms still wrapped around you. “But I love you.”
; gamer girl
Soft is the constant need to remind her to eat when she’s busy gaming. The tugging in your mind that won’t allow you to concentrate on your own tasks unless you bug her about remembering to take care of herself pops up without warning.
“Get up and stretch!” You tell her with a chuckle as you make your way to the living room, spotting her criss-cross applesauce on the floor in the front of the widescreen TV, headset on as she mumbles something about stealing the enemy’s loot once she lands the final shot on her target.
She tap, tap, taps away at the buttons on her controller and barely hears you approach her from behind. It’s not until you plop down behind her, wrapping arms around her waist to have her shrieking into the mic, scaring her teammates along with herself.
You groan in an don’t ignore my efforts to take care of you kind of way. “Have you eaten lunch? You’ve been playing for hours. Your eyes are going to start straining.”
“Just one more round and I’ll―“ She grows quiet mid-sentence, eyes narrowing on the screen until she focuses in on her target. She inhales a heavy breath, holding it with a few more button mashes until she tosses her controller to the floor. “Yes!” she exclaims as another victory flashes across the screen, and you sit staring as she jumps up from her spot, arms raised, the widest smile on her face.
Unfortunately she forgets her headset is not wireless, quickly being yanked down to the floor with the ear cuffs halfway off of her ears. You giggle and shake your head, watching as she finally settles down in front of you to rest on her knees and tugging the headset off so she can finally hear you.
“Well, congrats. Do you think you can take a break and eat something now?”
She scrunches her face and shrugs. “I guess so… if you’re cooking.”
Your jaw drops far enough to cause her laughter to fill the living room, but of course you can’t turn her down. The tugging that tells you to remind her of breaks and food often has you cooking meals for her as well. Just another way you lovingly taking care of her.
; here for you
Soft is the way she sticks by your side when you’re feeling down. It’s obvious to her when you’re just not yourself. You grow cold. You become distant.
She’s there to pick up the pieces. Without a word, she pulls you close to her as you linger in the kitchen, a gentle hand on your shoulder, arm wrapped around your body. You were only trying to humor her by allowing her to make a meal because you can’t remember the last time you’ve actually eaten, but your energy is drained and even though you don’t want to protest, you’re not in the mood for food, or watching her cook like you’re used to.
She rests the side of her head against yours as a few tears fall to your cheeks, realizing for now you only need comfort. She doesn’t ask questions. She knows she doesn’t need to. You’ll tell her what’s bothering you, what has you so, so down, when the time is right.
For now, she keeps you company with thoughts of still making you eat at least something in the back of her mind. You feel the warmth of her presence and suddenly your heart doesn’t feel so heavy. Your chest doesn’t ache as much. A weight lifts from your shoulders as she allows you to get it all out, eyes burning and she squeezes you a bit tighter until you pull her into your embrace.
“I’m here for you,” she whispers in the softest, most delicate voice, as if she’s afraid to say much at all in case you’re not ready. She wants you to know she’s there for you, and you feel it in her voice, her worry over your emotions, and the way she holds you so tight and so close to her body.
When you pull away, she’s quick to wipe your tears with her thumb on each cheek. You chuckle a bit from embarrassment, stresses and worries piling up until you’re breaking down without warning, but you know she doesn’t mind.
“Sorry,” is all you can mutter. All she can do is smile and shake her head.
“Don’t apologize,” she tells you, “I’m always here for you.”
; care for you
Soft is the way she spoon feeds you cold medicine when you’re feeling under the weather. You have a terribly runny nose and there’s tissues on the nightstand next to the bed she tosses carefully into a small garbage bin before she’s twisting the cap to the bottle.
“Open up,” is all she says before you’re swallowing a spoonful of sickeningly nasty medicine, coughing a little and groaning when you remember how much your entire body aches. “I think you sweat your fever out.” She presses the back of her hand to your clammy forehead, realizing your skin is no longer burning hot like it was only a few hours before.
“I feel―” You pause long enough to think you’re going to cough up a lung, causing her to press her lips in a thin line at your condition. “―terrible.”
She chuckles at that, shaking her head. “I can imagine. How about a nice warm bath to ease your aches and pains?”
“Are you saying I smell?” You begin to pout, and laughter fills the air as her shoulders bounce. You admit, even though you’re terribly under the weather, the sight of her wide smile brightening the dark and dreary bedroom makes you feel at least a little better, but the sight of her so cheerful no matter the circumstance always has that effect on you.
“No, I’m saying you’re sweaty from your fever and it will probably help to soak your muscles.” She begins tugging at the thick blankets on top of you as she speaks. “C’mon lazy!”
“I’m not lazy…” You continue coughing as you sling your feet over the side of the bed, feeling every ache and pain just like she said. “I’m sick.”
“I know, I know,” she giggles, wrapping an arm around your waist to guide you to the bathroom in the hall. “I promise, I’ll make you feel better with a hot bath, and then I’ll heat up some soup for you.”
; sweater
Soft is the smell of her most comfortable sweater you steal from her closet. If you’re honest it smells just like her and has you inhaling the soft scent of laundry detergent mixed with everything else that reminds you of just her whenever you cuddle up on the sofa with a good book. Autumn scented candles burn on the coffee table in front of you as the pitter-patter of rain against the window lulls you into pure bliss, reading slowly to take in the latest romance novel you picked up a week ago until there’s a click of a lock at the front door.
She comes in with a grin, immediately spotting her beige sweater swallowing you whole, and you giggle because you both know how cozy it is so you really can’t be blamed for wearing it.
“Shopping in my closet again?” she asks as she sinks into the spot next to you. Her head falls against your shoulder, eyes fluttering to a close after a busy day, and you never fail to realize having her there with you is so much better.
“Can’t help it I missed you and this is the next best thing.” Your teasing has her chuckling, shaking her head against your shoulder as you turn the corner of the page you’re on before setting your book aside.
“I missed you, too,” she says with a grin before motioning you closer with a nod of her head. “Come here.”
It doesn’t take long for her to pull you into her embrace. She doesn’t hesitate to fall against the sofa, back pressing into the soft cushions while you nuzzle against her chest with a grin. Her arms wrap around you. Your fingertips brush her sides as they slip beneath her t-shirt. You both admit this is more comfortable than any sweater could ever be.
; see you soon
Soft is the way she looks at you when she says goodbye. It makes your heart swell to twice the size even though there’s an ache in your chest knowing how lonely it is without her.
“It’s only for a few months,” she reminds you, trying to feign a false confidence that the time apart won’t affect either of you too much. “Then I’ll be home.”
“Just a few months,” you echo, being strong for her as you sport a weak smile before kissing her lips. She pulls you in, arms wrapped around one another, skin lingering against skin until she pulls away with a pout.
“I’ll make sure to get you a souvenir.” You giggle at her words, knowing she always thinks of you when she’s away, and you do the same. Though there are late night phone calls, early morning texts, and video chats when you can get time to include them in between busy schedules, it’s always hard saying goodbye to her. It’s hard being without her, not having her in your arms, not sleeping next to her or not having anything else you love doing with just her.
“I’ll miss you,” you tell her, and she immediately furrows her brow.
“Don’t say that.” She shakes her head with persistence. “It sounds so final. I don’t like it.”
“Then what should I say?” You grin and lean in to kiss her lips, and she lingers for a moment longer than she should just so she can burn the feel of your skin into her memory.
“Just… say I’ll see you soon,” she replies with a sigh, shoulders heavy, eyes falling to the floor between the sight of your socks and her boots as you stand near the front door of your apartment. “And tell me you love me.”
Your smile widens though your chest weighs heavy from the way her words tremble as she speaks, voice lacking confidence before she’s biting down on her bottom lip. “I’ll see you soon,” you whisper, earning her eyes on your own a second before you lean in to brush your lips against her skin. “I love you.”
; kisses
Soft is the way she kisses your lips, hesitant and trembling because it’s your first time being so close. You took a chance with her, so worried of the outcome and maybe a little careless, pulling your closest friend toward you and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear a second before leaning toward her lips. When emotions have been building up and aching hearts have been dying for the release of spilling the true feelings you have for one another, it was the biggest leap you could take with her to receive the greatest reward.
Now she’s so close, heavy, hesitant breaths against your skin and lips quivering as they melt into your own. She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t want to. The feeling of her so close, so breathless as she kisses you nearly makes your knees buckle, but you can only lean in closer. You grip her by the hips. You deepen the kiss. Her soft, quiet moans vibrate to tickle your skin and before you can stop yourself, you’re pulling away in a fit of giggles.
“I’ve, uh…” You begin stammering. Looking nervous. Looking away, around the room, anywhere but where she is and for a moment, the overwhelming nerves take hold as heat washes over your face. When you hear her laugh, so soft and quiet and almost missed if it weren’t for every feeling being amplified in the moment, you wouldn’t have looked into her eyes to see the comfort that rests there.
“I know,” is all she says. She knows what you wanted to say, that you wanted to tell her how long you’ve been dying to feel her lips against your own. She knows how you feel, having kept your heart’s desire a secret up until now. She knows what you want, that you wish to kiss her again, and again, and again until your lips grow sore and you’re breathless once more.
She leans in, this time without hesitation. Her hand cups your neck so gently you feel like you could melt in her touch. She grins, but it’s shy and without confidence, yet her lips brush against yours for the second time, and you believe you truly will melt into her kisses.
#blackpink scenarios#marvel scenarios#twilight scenarios#harry potter scenarios#jennie scenarios#twice scenarios#dreamcatcher scenarios#red velvet scenarios#itzy scenarios#mamamoo scenarios#aespa scenarios#jisoo scenarios#girl group scenarios#gidle scenarios#blackpink imagines#aespa imagines#red velvet imagines#dreamcatcher imagines#jennie imagines#jisoo imagines
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omg can you please fem!reader who has low iron and she almost faints but Ajax helps her !! 🤗
YES I DEFINITELY CAN
i suffer with low iron too and literally 10 minutes before you sent me these I almost fainted in the middle of my living room 😩
please don't try to dance with your siblings when you just woke up
DIZZY
Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader
summary: you had a lot of things to deal in your week and completely forgot about your condition. Ajax was there to help you.
WARNINGS! mentions of fainting, nosebleeds, anxiety, overthinking, briefly mention of trouble parents.
Exams week.
You hated exams week.
Your parents always made sure that you were the perfect and top student, only the highest grades and the best projects, assignments or anything, they just wanted to see you studying.
If you got an A- or even worse, a B+, it would start a huge fight, one that you always ended up crying and blaming yourself for failing.
But of course, you had your boyfriend to help you in times like this, not that you would listen to him, but you appreciated how Ajax sat with you and made sure that you were at least drinking water properly.
— My beautiful and lovely girlfriend- Ajax pleaded and you frowned looking up from your books- Can you for the love of Zeus take a break? You've been studying for...- he looked at his phone- 5 hours! And you didn't even touched your water!- he panicked.
— I'll eat something in a minute baby, I just really need to finish reading this- you pecked his lips and he sighed.
— Fine, promise?- he asked and you nodded.
— Promise my love- he smiled and hugged your waist.
You pulled an all night study session and of course you forgot to eat and take your supplements, truth be told, you definitely forgot about your condition.
Your iron deficiency were the reason that Ajax was always worried about the exams week, he would always remind you to at least take your supplements, but you were stubborn and forgot things way too easily.
So when you finally finished the last test and got up, everything hit you like a truck.
Your head almost exploded when you walked to your teacher's table, she smiled while taking your paper.
When you started to walk you more and more felt dizzy, but then your phone almost bursted with messages.
Your parents.
They started to bombard you with questions "how it went?", "you made sure to get only the right answers?", "did you studied enough?".
It plagued your brain and you could feel your lungs aching, what if you failed?
What if you really failed all of your tests and your parents would get disappointed again?
Everything seemed to spin around you.
You didn't eat, you didn't took your supplements, you barely slept in the last 2 days that were the time Ajax didn't checked to see if you were taking care of yourself.
And now your overthinking and anxiety bursted you.
The lack of oxygen in your body being noticed far away.
Ajax walked out of his class and his eyes quickly spotted you, you were frozen in the hallway, eyes almost closing, way more pale than usual, legs shaking.
— Shit- he whispered and Kent jumped when Ajax dropped his things and ran in your direction.
Fortunately he got there in time, your body failed on you, Ajax quickly held you when your vision darkened, the well known dark circles made your head hurt.
— It's okay, it's okay- Ajax said more to himself than to you, he slowly and gently laid you down on the floor.
He saw this happening way too much times to not know how to deal with it, Ajax even took time to talk with the Nevermore's nurse to know what to do in case you fainted in front of him again.
He unbuttoned your blazer and loosened the tie, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your shirt.
Curious eyes and bodies moved in their way but Enid and Kent who were nearby and noticed what happened were quickly to shoo them away.
— You're okay my love, do you want some water?- Ajax asked quietly seeing that you were slowly coming to your senses again.
— Yes- you muttered and he helped you up, he waited a minute to see if it was safe to sit you up, you held his arm tightly and blinked but nodded, he used his own body to help you, your back on his chest as Ajax held the water bottle for you.
— Can you stand up?- he asked but he got his answer immediately when your nose started to bleed- Okay, I need to pick you up, is that okay?- he asked and you nodded holding your nose.
Ajax tried to not move you so fast when he picked you up, you laid your head on his shoulder and he calmly but quickly got you in the nursery.
Ajax massaged your scalp as you leaned closer on his body.
— You scared me for a minute- he whispered.
After a whole round of supplements and iron-rich food you found yourself in Ajax's room, more specifically, on his bed, laying on his chest.
— I'm sorry- you muttered and he kissed your head.
— I told you to eat love, you know how bad they can get if you don't- he said and you nodded and sighed- I know that your parents are full assholes but you need to think about yourself first, I really worry about you, you know that right?- you smiled and looked at him.
Ajax's free hand were caressing your waist in comfort, your skin were warm now but he shrived when remembering how cold you were earlier.
— I love you Jax, I'll try to take care of myself so I don't worry you again- you said and he kissed your lips.
— You worry me every day because I love you, but it's far from pleasing seeing you pale and cold with a nosebleed, so for the sake of your beautiful boyfriend, you better start to take care of yourself- he said and you laughed, he smiled.
— Beautiful boyfriend yeah?- you teased and he laughed, flipping your bodies around so now he was hovering over you, you smiled and took his face between your hands.
— Is that the only part you got, pretty girl?- he asked and you only giggled, he started to attack you with kisses and you laughed the whole night.
You absolutely loved Ajax.
#ajax petropolus#ajax petropolus x reader#ajax petropolus fluff#wednesday#fluff#georgie farmer x reader#georgie farmer#georgie farmer fluff
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Hi! I never read the original trilogy before watching the show, only the crows books, but I agree with a lot of what you’ve said about Alina & Aleksander. It’s obviously a cruel and poorly fitting match. May I ask what kind of person you think would truly match Aleksander better?
So, here is the deal: while the right answer to this question might appear pretty obvious, since pretty much everyone in the fandom agrees that Aleksander deserves an equal, I have to confess that I've always found a big flaw in this otherwise, well, flawless reasoning.
Albeit I obviously agree with everything you said about Alina's (especially show!Alina) lack of... personality (to express it kindly), I think dismissing the general concept of book!Alina, at least in the way she should have been written had her writer any sense of artistic potential, might actually be a dire mistake in the proverbial grand scheme of literary things.
I'll explain.
It's indeed pretty easy to sketch out Aleksander's ideal match. He himself would tell you he'd need a mirror image of who he is in order to finally, finally, feel complete: someone to match him in power, but above all in his understanding of power; someone to match him in immortality, but above all in his experience with it; someone who shares his predatory eagle-view on existence and therefore sharp-sighted enough to look in his same direction and see the same clash of colors in dawns and sunsets turning morality and philosophy unforgiving black.
In short, Aleksander would need someone who shares his unique condition, but most importantly having already lived through each and every single stage of it (the same despair, the same fear, the same loneliness) and therefore being someone who just gets what it means, what it feels, to be him.
There's no doubt in my mind this is what the Darkling dreamt about in the dead of night, what he prayed for before actually finding the Sun Summoner. He prayed she had been out there all along somehow, each year he himself had existed, going through the same centuries of unforgiveness, of solitude, of horror, through the same desperate quest for an equal, for him, just as he had been looking for her, all that time, all along.
I've seen many amazing people believing this very same thing while exploring the possibility in both meta and fanfiction, and I absolutely get where they are coming from. But I'm afraid I have to disagree. As poets say, there's a huge difference between what someone thinks they need and what they actually do need.
Aleksander's perfect match should indeed be his mirror image, but the mirror image of the boy he once was (the boy who was in love with "all the colors one cannot see in the dark", the one who was moved by the mere idea of companionship and intimacy, who was brave enough to risk his own life for the sake of a little girl he had just met), and not of the eternal and lost creature he had become, no matter how shocking the mere notion would be to him.
Aleksander would need a person who reminds him of the unspoiled self that was torn away from him, of his original unmarred idealism, his profound appreciation for living before he became a mere stubborn and bitter habit, of the humanity he was forced to shed. And, above all, Aleksander would need to be able himself to perform this act of saving, protecting and cherishing this twin heart for the sake of that heart of his no one had cared to save in time.
I think seeing himself, his truer, unspoiled self, in his equal and being able to shield her from everything he endured, as a single beam of light in endless oceans of darkness, would be virtually the only thing able to save him in turn, finally giving his life a meaning no war nor time could steal away from him.
And this is precisely why I think the concept of Alina had real literary potential, had it been used wisely, because Alina was supposed to be exactly that - an Alexander who can still, materially, be protected, saved, someone with the strength of not treding her own humanity for comforting numbness and disillusion, not even while crushed by the weight of eternity, and, in doing so, allowing him to be human and bearably so for the first time in his eternal detached yet still excruciating exististing.
It's a pity, because at fleeting times both books and show did touch on this very topic, almost giving in, only to idiotically shy away from it for reasons that will always be beyond me.
#and instead we had this dumbness galore#darklina#shadow and bone#the darkling#the grisha trilogy#aleksander morozova#sab metas#one and one thousand stories lis told
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hello!! i'll submit this on behalf of everyone who wants a part 2 of smoke slow. for the medicore 2k party, i'd love a pt 2 of smoke slow with the prompts
"she could be perfect, but the problem is she'll never be you" (somebody's nobody by alexander 23)
"i still love you, i promise" (i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams)
reader has been avoiding wanda and they're both grieving the loss of their relationship. they finally see each other again and talk about it. if you're not up for a happy ending for them just yet (bc they will get a happy ending 😠), maybe a hopeful ending? idk i just need a part 2!!
somebody's nobody [wanda maximoff]
summary: requested by anon, part 2 of smoke slow; you try to keep your distance from wanda, so your older sister could be happy. even though nat is the most perfect girlfriend, the problem is, she's not you
warnings: mentions of panic attack, cigarettes, drinking, angst
pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x sister!reader, yelena belova x sister!reader
*not my gif*
It was strange to see the world moving on.
Wanda lost you. The one thing she never wanted to lose you, even before the two of you had your clandestine meetings, she never wanted to lose her best friend. Now it feels as if all the air in her lungs has been taken away from her. She’s frozen, just for a moment. Frozen in shock. Frozen in loss. Her own mind slowly closing in on her until the only thought left in the air is you.
Yet, everyone is moving so fast around her. Nat begging her to move in with her, but that also means living with you every second of every day. Your group of friends throwing extravagant parties, yet the smell of your smoke was nowhere to be found. Her professors make her write essays about love and loss, like it’s such an insensitive topic. Did they not feel her heart break and the ground shake as she sobbed when she got home that night? Can they not hear her thoughts screaming out your name?
Apparently not.
It’s funny how a simple smile and a fake laugh can win you an Oscar.
Wanda needed a moment. One night where she could push you and her thoughts about you aside and just live. So, she did what anyone would do, and drowned herself in alcohol.
Tony’s party was as lively as ever. Wanda went over to the speaker and turned up the music to maximum volume, anything to stop the stubborn thoughts that kept flooding her mind, but no matter how loud the music was it was never enough. So she started dancing around the kitchen by herself, grabbing the bottle of whiskey by the neck, cradling it against her like it was her only lifeline.
She could still see you. She could see you walking up to her during one of these parties with a bright smile on your face. You’d tell her a dorky pick up line that she pretended to hate, but she couldn’t hate them even if she tried. You would ask her to dance before the two of you snuck up to the balcony, holding each other tightly, like the asteroid was going to hit Earth any second.
As she was dancing, she could practically feel you. Your arms wrapped around her waist, as you swayed to the music. It reminded her of the time, you’d sneak over to her apartment, and in the mornings while she’d cook breakfast you would dance with her to the soft sounds of her favorite records. What she would do for just one more morning like that.
“Hey pretty girl, let me just take that from you. I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” Carol’s blonde hair swooped in front of her, stealing the bottle from her hands. But Wanda’s entire body cringed, like she just heard nails digging into a chalkboard.
“Don’t call me that,” she spat, anger fuming in her body. You were the only person who could call her that. Not even Nat does.
Carol raises her hand in defense, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I’m not Nat, I know. It’s just a pet name I say to everyone,” Wanda stumbled slightly, as she tried to cross her arms, gripping onto the counter to stay afloat. “Wanda, do you want me to call Nat? She can pick you up. I think you need to call it a night.”
Wanda shook her head rapidly, fast enough for her to grow dizzy, “No. I’m fine!”
Before Carol could argue, she stumbled off and away from the crowd. She needed air, that’s what she needed. Something to make her feel like she wasn’t suffocating. The backyard was empty, but she couldn’t seem to get out there. The lights were too bright. The voices were too loud. Her clothes suddenly felt like a small t-shirt that she was struggling to get off.
“Wanda, what’s wrong?” A familiar voice filled her ears in an echo. One of your other best friends, Gwen Stacy and her boyfriend Peter Parker aka Peter 3, came into her line of sight. The Sokovian tried to speak, but no words came out and she only shook her head. Gwen hesitantly reached her hand out to wipe the tears off her cheeks and she flinched back slightly.
Wanda’s breathing started elevating as she felt her chest constricting. Peter looked at his girlfriend with furrowed brows and puzzled looks in his eyes. Gwen instantly grabbed Wanda’s hand at the sight of her breathing. The blonde whisking the brunette away to the balcony, your guys’ balcony, upstairs. At the feeling of fresh air, Wanda instantly fell to her knees, sitting against the wall.
Gwen orders her boyfriend and he nods awkwardly, stumbling and running back into the house. Wanda could barely process the girl’s words due to her ears ringing and her eyes blurry with tears, “It’s okay, Wanda. You’re having a panic attack, but it’s okay. I’m here to help you through it.” The Sokovian’s chest was in pain each time due to her labored breathing and constricted chest.
Gwen tried to get her to match her breathing and offered her soothing words, but nothing was working. Moments later, Peter came stumbling back with you right behind him. You quickly kneeled down in front of the brunette, offering her a sad smile. Wanda’s breath hitched, not because of her panic attack, but because of the sight of you.
“Thank you for grabbing me and staying with her. I can take it from here,” you tell the couple and they both nod, giving Wanda a reassuring smile before taking leave. You hesitantly reach out for her hand, not wanting to overwhelm her even more. “I’m here, Wands. I’m right here. Just focus on your breathing, okay?”
Wanda closed her eyes, the patio lights weren’t hurting her as much as they were before. The loud ringing noises slowly faded away as you quietly butchered one of her favorite Sokovian lullabies. Her beautiful green eyes met yours and you watched as her chest started to even out, “There you go, you’re okay,” you cup her cheeks, wiping all the tears, just like you promised you always would. After a few moments, you help her up to her feet steadily, “Let’s get you home, okay?”
Before the two of you could leave, she grabbed your wrist gently, “I don’t want to go back to my apartment alone. Can you take me to yours please?” The exhaustion in her voice causes your heart to clench and you just nod before leading her outside.
There the two of you were again, on the big city streets, sneaking away from a party just like you always used to do. Long gone were the nights where the two of you sang your hearts out to some random songs. Instead it was met with silence and coldness. Wanda noticed how your eyes lingered on her, making sure that you were okay. She swore you ran a red light to look at her, but that was okay. Because Wanda would die to keep your eyes on her.
The two of you entered your unusually quiet apartment: Natasha was fast asleep after she got home from a long business trip and Yelena went out to some frat party with Kate, Peter, and America. You told Wanda you’d grab her some blankets and pillows for the couch. The two of you agreed that you did not want to bother Nat.
Your room was drenched in the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Empty liquor bottles littered your room and you let out a huff at the sight. This is what you resorted to. You couldn’t go out to parties anymore without the plaguing thought that you’d see her there with your sister, madly in love. So, if that meant turning to old habits, so be it. It was only temporary anyway, the pain will eventually subside and you will be fine.
Grabbing a couple blankets, your eyes found the makeup stained pillow. They weren’t even yours, they were Wanda’s, from one of your many rendezvous. The two of you just talked about everything: her parents, Pietro, Sokovia. Everything she lost and all you did was hold her tight, while she prayed to whatever God was out there that she wouldn’t lose you too. She didn’t tell you that though. Only tightening her arms around you and finding comfort in your scent.
You snap back to reality, grabbing a different pillow from your bed and making your way back to her. You saw her back turned to you, staring at the curtainless window. You took the opportunity to study her, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared. “As you can tell,” you spoke up, causing her to flinch back. “Still haven’t gone shades for that window. You know, after you broke it.”
You tried to lighten the mood, but a sad smile just brushed along her face, “You were the one who suggested dancing with the refrigerator light. You have two left feet, so I don’t even know why you thought that was a good idea,” she quipped back and you smiled back, laying the blankets over the couch.
The Sokovian lay gently down on the couch, letting out a soft sigh. You took a seat next to her on the floor, “Are you okay, Wanda?” She opened her eyes, the green in them mixed with the red of her crying eyes. She didn’t say anything, just staring at you with a pained look deep in her eyes. You clear your throat, looking away, “I’m gonna get you some water and Advil.”
When you reach the fridge, you let the cool air of the machine calm your nerves, inhaling a sharp breath. You hated seeing her like this and knowing you were the cause of it. But it was for the best, you knew it was for the best, or at least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. Sucking in one more breath and wiping away a stray together from your eyes before going back to her.
Taking a seat back onto the floor, right next to where her head rested, you placed the water on the coffee table. “I don’t know if you want to take them now or later, but here you go,” you whispered.
“Do you remember that night we were lying in your bed and we were just talking about anything and everything we could think of?” she asked out of nowhere.
“We had a lot of nights like that, Wands.”
She shook her head, “The night where you told me how you would love me forever. We were curled up in your bed and I remember I tried to argue with you and tell you that you can’t promise that. But all you did was cup my cheeks and whisper it over and over and over again, with kisses in between each phrase until I smiled and told you that I loved you too,” your heart ached at her exhausted voice. “Do you remember? Because I do.”
Your knees curled up to your chest, “Of course, I remember. But that doesn’t matter because you deserve better than me, you deserve to be with someone as perfect as my sister.”
“That’s the problem. Natasha is perfect, but she will never be you! You said forever and I almost bought it, Y/N! But then you go and you break my heart!” she says frantically, trying to keep her voice steady, but it was no use you could hear every crack.
Your hands find her cheek, cupping it softly as you brush away the stray tears. Your heart drops as you feel her nuzzle into your touch. You closed your eyes tightly, the lump growing bigger in your throat. “I had to, but that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.”
“What do you mean you had to? We were going to face these consequences together, but you backed out like a coward!” she spat and you knew she didn’t mean what she was saying. She was hurting and you deserved it.
“Yelena found out about us. She scolded me for it and I didn’t want to believe she was right, but she was. Natasha has given everything up for me and I decided to have an affair with her girlfriend. So if Natasha could give up everything for me and Yelena, I could give up my everything,” you whisper, smiling at her sadly. “You are my everything, Wanda Maximoff, and you always will be.”
She let out a quiet sob, her lips were pursed as she tried hard to stop the trembling. You let go of her cheeks, intertwining your fingers together. “We had a good run, my love, but this was always bound to happen. This is for the best.”
“If this is for the best, why does it hurt so much?” she cried out.
Your eyes softened, fighting your own tears, as you pushed away a loose strand of hair from her face. “I don’t know that answer, darling. Maybe one day, we could meet down the line, after all of the time and give an actual try. I don’t know if you’d give me that opportunity again, I know I’ve hurt you. But right now, I am half of myself without you. You are the best thing I have ever had in my life and you had no control over this. Please know that, there’s nothing you did wrong. This is all on me, okay?”
More tears began welling in her eyes, “I miss you,” she said, her voice broken.
Your chest tightened as you watched her cry silently. Instinctively, you sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into your arms, holding her from behind. Her sobs muffled into your neck as she found safety in you. You press a soft kiss to her head, trying your best to comfort her as much as you can.
“I am always here for you,” you mutter. She didn’t respond, but she slowly calmed down. Her breathing evening out once more, “I’m right here. Get some rest okay? You’ve had a long night.”
“Y/N?” her voice was hoarse as she whispered your name.
“Yes Wands?”
“I still love you.”
You sniffled, blinking away the tears in your eyes, “I still love you, pretty girl. I promise.”
Your sister’s heart dropped, as she hid in the darkness of the hallway. She heard every word.
#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff imagines#a mediocre 2k party
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eddie cheats pt 1
***
“you know eddie’s gonna be there too, right?”
“i know,” you reply flatly, fixing your hair in the mirror above your vanity.
in the mirror, robin’s face comes into view as she sits on your bed behind you. you can tell she’s assessing you, looking you over to see for herself if you’re actually as okay with eddie’s presence at steve’s party as you’re pretending to be.
dropping your hands from your hair, you pin her with a look in the mirror before turning around in the chair so you’re finally eye-to-eye.
“don’t give me that look. i’m fine, rob, really,” you assure, standing from your seat at the vanity and grabbing your bag from where it hangs on the back of your bedroom door.
“what look?” robin asks innocently. she’s a terrible liar.
shouldering your bag, you turn to face her again, clarifying, “the apprehensive one like i might burst into tears at any second.”
“what-! i-i wasn’t. i was just…admiring your hair.”
again: terrible liar. you give her a deadpan expression and she crumbles.
“fine, i’m worried about you, okay? you cried over him for like three months. he hurt you. so i’m entitled to a little worrying,” she says, no longer masking her worry.
you sigh. you don’t need to be reminded how pathetically long you mourned the breakup.
“i’ll be fine, i’m over it. it’s been long enough now. i can’t avoid him forever,” you say. much like robin, you are also lying, but you’re only doing so to try to convince yourself that you really are fine. maybe if you keep saying it out loud it’ll become true. maybe it won’t hurt to see him.
except it does hurt. the second you and robin step foot into steve’s giant house, you hear eddie’s laugh. then you see him in the living room, arm draped over her shoulder; her perfect blond hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders. at least she’s not wearing that stupid green scrunchie.
robin leans in close to whisper, “you okay?” as you both walk deeper into the house, past the living room and into the kitchen at the back of the house.
you don’t think you can speak. you might cry if you say anything, so you just nod, try to take deep breaths. you didn’t think it would hurt so bad.
so, you get to work numbing the pain with alcohol; grabbing the first beer you see and drinking the entire bottle until nothing is left. then you start another.
this isn’t like you at all; you hate drinking, but you feel like you had when eddie had come home late, crying, telling you how sorry and how stupid he was. that it meant nothing. but it had. it’s clear now that it had. you knew about them of course. you heard shortly after the breakup. but you’d never seen them together. it felt so fresh all of the sudden.
“woah, okay, why don’t you slow down?” robin suggests, grabbing the bottle from you. then, levelling you with a more serious expression, “do you wanna leave? seriously, we can leave right now.”
you consider it for only a short moment. but you’re too stubborn. he needs to see you here, to see that you aren’t as fucked up about this as you feel.
“no. i wanna stay,” you decide and grab another bottle of beer.
robin looks unsure. you think she might pull you out the door any second, but she doesn’t. just nods and takes a sip of the beer she’d stolen from you. “but i’m staying with you all night, okay? i don’t want you to be alone.”
that plan goes out the window about an hour and another couple beers later when steve enthusiastically pulls robin from the kitchen. she tries to resist, telling him she wants to stay here with you, but you insist that she goes. you don’t want to be babysat all night. she relents.
you’re definitely a little sloppy at this point; a lightweight for sure, feeling pleasantly buzzed and loose-lipped. but the alcohol has done nothing to numb the pain. and now that robin’s no longer a distraction, you feel miserable as ever left alone with your thoughts.
you briefly wonder where eddie is. has he left with her? is he kissing chrissy cunningham in his van?
the second you wonder where he is, he appears. you’d seen him when you walked in, but hadn’t gotten a good look at him. in fact, you hadn’t seen him in months. not since the breakup. of course he looks as gorgeous as ever; long, dark hair waterfalling over his shoulders, chunky rings glinting in the soft glow of the kitchen lights, warm brown eyes so dark you could cry just by looking into them.
“oh. hi,” eddie says, eyes meeting yours for the first time in three months. but yours quickly flit down to the green scrunchie that sits snug against his wrist. when he walked in, you felt yourself soften for a moment, heart swooning at the sight of him. but that scrunchie. her scrunchie. you think you might be sick from the sight alone.
you have to bite your tongue and the inside of your cheek so you don’t start screaming or crying or throwing things or all of the above.
“h-how are you?” eddie asks tentatively. while he’s probably good intentioned, you feel yourself burn with anger and sadness. how could he ask you that? after kissing perfect chrissy cunningham. after breaking your heart. you thought he was the love of your life; you’d never loved anyone so much before. what were you even supposed to say to that? what did he expect you to say to that?
“fuck you,” you spit at him before storming out of the kitchen and out the back door.
no one else is out here, the late fall nip in the air a little more than a nip when you’re out with no jacket to cover your bare arms.
falling into one of the chairs by the pool, your shoulders slump and you bury your head in your hands as the tears start to fall. your face is probably puffy and tear stained, but you don’t care. you just feel so humiliated and stupid and alone and drunk.
you jump when a hand touches your shoulder. when you turn and look up to see who the intruder on your pity-party is, your feeling of humiliation increases tenfold at the sight of eddie who takes a seat on the pool chair across from you.
“i’m sorry. i was just-” he begins. but he doesn’t get to talk now. he’d had a lot to say the night you broke up; lame apologies, awful excuses. in an instant, he was a different person. you never thought he’d do something like that to you and the hurt and betrayal consumed you. you couldn’t speak. you’d just listened and left without a word. you were in shock. but now he’s here in front of you and you feel like shit and have felt like shit for three months and want him to know that. you need him to know how awful you feel. all because of him.
“i think about you everyd-day,” you start, shocking him into silence. his brows furrow and he’s about to continue with what he was saying, but you don’t let him. “i think about you kissing her. and i hope to god that you th-think of me when you kiss her. and i hope you feel bad about what you did all the t-time,” you slur and hiccup your way through the words.
it’s just the truth; the humiliating, desperate truth. because no matter the hurt and the pain he’s caused, you still find yourself wanting him and hope that some part of him still wants you too. even though you know he doesn’t anymore.
***
pt. 2
loosely based off of think of me by madi diaz bc i can’t stop listening to her album </3
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