#I don’t think I can fully explain just how funny this moment is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seabirdtxt · 11 months

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It's been a while since I made a request to a blog, but I really enjoy your writing, and your AUs got my brain going with ideas (especially the Glitch AU). It has me thinking about how our favorite little Puppet boys would react to some of the... interesting hobbies I have: two of those being things like Doll making/repainting, and cosplaying/ general fantastical costuming.

I feel like both of these hobbies have the potential to lead to both hilarious situations and moments of being a bit... perturbed at best (especially doll making: the random assortment of doll limbs being places, or having naked dolls that are precariously hung from the ceiling to finish drying from paint jobs).

I do know that at least Kabukimono and Wanderer (Scara might have forgotten since he hadn't used the skill in a long time, and Wanderer likely relearned it) know how to sew, so the sewing part could be cute bonding time.

Could be platonic or romantic in nature: both would be fine. And also, fully understand it will probably take you time to get to this, of you even get to it at all. I just appreciate you taking the time to read this request~! Can't wait for your next bits of work: hope you have a wonderful day~!!! 💕💕💕💕

hey!! thanks so much for your request!! this was a funny idea bc i can't imagine any of scara's iterations being any good at collaboration but for all separate reasons lmao

I'm not too knowledgeable about doll making but hopefully you like this anyway :D i wrote it as a bit of a glitch!AU spinoff in my mind, but feel free to imagine any other scenarios these three clowns might come together for hahaha WC. 1.3k

----- ⚘ -----

When the three puppets were told not to enter your room and disturb your hobby workstation, this isn’t what they had in mind. Wanderer thought maybe you did something embarrassing as a hobby, Scaramouche thought it might be something potentially dangerous especially if you intended to keep it a secret from them, while Kabukimono was certain that you did some sort of artistic craft that you preferred to keep hidden until the end product was finished.

All three of them were right, in some way or another.

The three of them stand in your workshop, staring in horror at the dozens of separated doll components you’d strung up around the edges of the room. Scraps of tiny, doll-sized outfits were scattered around your desk, and a half-painted doll head was mounted on some sort of device in the middle of the chaos. The doll’s single painted eye watches their trespassing with silent judgment.

You’re glad you find them out so soon, and you have exactly three seconds to stop them from touching anything in the workshop.

“WhatareyouguysDOINGinhere?!” Nailed it.

Kabukimono leaps a vertical foot into the air out of fright at your sudden and shrill outburst, while the other two react in more subdued manners before turning around to face you, standing in the doorway behind them. Your arms are outstretched, palms forward, and you’re braced as though you’re anticipating some sort of impact.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You warn. “Not all of these are dry, and if you smudge anything I’ll have to restart them.”

“Why do you have a bunch of dismembered doll corpses?” Scaramouche asks, jerking his thumb at the precariously hanging doll components.

“A seller in Inazuma asked me if I could help him finish a few dolls, since I told him I used to do it as a hobby back in my world.” You explain, not dropping your guarded position. “If any of you want to eat dinner this week, I suggest you step away from the dolls. Slowly.”

“Can you not call them that?” Kabukimono complains to Scara as the trio carefully shuffle out of your workshop. “They’re not corpses, they just haven��t been put together yet.”

“Well, they aren’t alive either, so what’s your point?”

“If you need some help completing them, I can pitch in.” The three of you look wide-eyed at Wanderer, who seems to immediately regret making the offer. He shrugs and looks away quickly. “Or not. Whatever.”

“I’d love some help,” you start hesitantly. “But what did you want to help with?”

“I can sew the clothes, I guess.”

Scaramouche’s nose wrinkles at this statement. “You can sew?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Wanderer counters, reaching into the inner lining of his haori and showing off a small, familiar cloth doll. Instantly, Kabukimono is patting himself down with a frantic expression, before pointing at Wanderer accusingly.

“Where did you get that?! I lost it a long time ago!”

“Heh, of course you did.” Wanderer smirks. “I made mine. What, are you telling me you never thought of making yourself a new one?”

“I was never good at doing the small stitches…” Kabukimono pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the doll jealously.

“That aside,” Wanderer continues, turning to you. “I can help you finish the clothes for your project dolls. The faster you can finish them, the faster you can retrieve the commission for them, right?”

“That’s true, I guess,” you acquiesce, already running the math in your head. If you could get the commission for the dolls early, you might not have to budget as hard this week.

“I wanna help too!” Kabukimono declares, raising his hand (a bit redundantly, given he’s standing right next to you).

“Whatever,” Scaramouche snorts and waves dismissively as he begins to walk away. “If that’s what you nerds want to waste your time on, be my guest. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Party pooper,” you say, sticking out your tongue at his retreating back. “Well, what do you say, guys? Let’s get this bread?”

“Sure,” Wanderer nods, heading back into the workshop.

“What does bread have to do with dollmaking?” Kabukimono asks, even as he’s herded into the room by you.

“I’ll explain later, let’s finish up these bad boys first,” you promise, and the workshop door closes behind you.

----- ⚘ -----

“I made another sword!” Kabukimono declares, hurrying over to your workbench and showing off the tiny doll-sized sword he’d made. The fifth one, so far.

“That’s great, buddy!” You give him a pat, to his delight. “I think we’re okay on swords for now, though, d’you wanna try making something else this time?”

“Okay!”

Wanderer looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a few pins sticking out of his mouth as he uses them to hold his patterns in place.

“Did your toymaker guy say what kinds of dolls he wanted?” He asks, holding up another utilitarian-looking outfit. “I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind when he asked for your help.”

“I mean, these are kind of edging into action figure territory,” you shrug. “But that’s probably fine. There’s a market out there for everything, nowadays.”

“Make a kimono that looks like the Shogun,” Kabukimono suggests, handing Wanderer some purple fabric. “Everybody likes the Shogun, right? She should be pretty popular.”

You and Wanderer both wince (for different reasons) at Kabukimono’s well-meant statement. However, Wanderer does take the purple fabric and sets it gently aside, and you wonder if he’ll take the suggestion after all.

“Are you losers done in here? I’m tired of doing the dishes for two days straight,” Scaramouche kicks the door in, uncaring of the delicate work you three are doing. Thankfully, the risky parts are all done, so nothing suffers any damage with his sudden entrance. Scara drops three bowls onto your workbench, each piled with fried rice and vegetables.

“Ha, you’d make a great housewife,” Wanderer snickers, earning himself a smack on the back of his head. “Ow.”

“Thank you!” Kabukimono takes his bowl and brings it to where he’s working on something, hopefully not another sword.

“Thanks,” you say as well, giving Scara a genuine smile. The puppet scowls and leaves as quickly as he’d come in.

“Don’t bother! It doesn’t benefit anyone if you drop dead from starvation, you know?” he sneers over his shoulder as he slams the door shut.

There’s silence as you three eat the lunch that was generously provided, stacking the bowls and putting them beside the door for when you guys go for your next break.

“I think I’m done after I finish this last outfit,” Wanderer sighs, holding up the unfinished garment. It looks hilarious in his hands, a cheerful pink and purple kimono in stark contrast to his deadpan expression.

“I’m almost done too!” Kabukimono adds, holding up his latest project: a doll-sized armor set. You smile gratefully at the both of them, even as you rub your temples with a sigh.

“Okay, great, I’ll put these together and bring them to the toymaker later this afternoon, then!” You say, hoping you sound enthusiastic about it. You think about the mismatched collection of outfits and sword accessories, wondering how you were going to sell this to your temporary employer.

----- ⚘ -----

As it turns out, if there’s one thing Inazumans like, it’s swordsmen. The toymaker looks in awe at your half dozen tiny samurai, handing you a pouch of mora with a pleased word of thanks.

As you’re headed back home, you get a telepathic message from Wanderer.

KABUKIMONO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE’RE GETTING MORE DOLLS.

‘He fired me, we’ll have to do something else,’ you think back, hoping you don’t sound too guilty in your head.

As much as you love these guys, you aren’t sure you could take another two days straight of having to collab with them. Hopefully buying some treats on the way home will placate them.

—– ⚘ —–

^ reader trying to juggle all three scara iterations without breaking any of the dolls LMAO

#genshin sagau #genshin self aware au #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin isekai #genshin scaramouche #sagau scaramouche #genshin wanderer #sagau wanderer #genshin kabukimono #sagau kabukimono #sagau x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #seabird.txt #seabird.inbox #littlemistermedley

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ladykailitha · 7 months

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Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 3

Hello, hello. I am so grateful for the amount of support this story has gotten. It's been plotted out, it just needs to get written up. I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but if I know anything about myself, LONG.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Pulling into the truck stop was the hardest thing Eddie had ever done and he faced down dozens of demobats. He slowed to a stop, tires crunching on the gravel.

Thankfully Wayne was already there and waiting for them. He gently shook Steve awake.

“Hey,” he murmured. “You need to get up and walk around. Get the blood flowing again.”

Steve blinked at him blearily. “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie shook his head and climbed out the car. He walked over to Wayne as Steve stumbled out and onto the dust filled gravel.

“Your boy okay?” Wayne asked, watching Steve walk into the bathroom.

Eddie looked back at his friend and then back to him. “I don’t think so. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

Wayne just shook his head. “Don’t you be thinking about fixing shit, son. He’ll let you in when he’s ready. Just be there for him. That’s all you need to do.”

Eddie sighed. “I’m the one on my way to a fucking funeral but Steve seems like he’s grieving more than I am.”

“You told me last night that he had family in Kentucky?” Wayne asked.

He nodded. “I don’t know if any of Steve’s mom’s family is left, but his grandma used live in Lexington before she died when he was little.”

Wayne hummed. “Your dad went to school with Clint Harrington, a pleasure I thankfully missed out on, having already graduated by the time our parents moved to Indiana. I stayed in Kentucky until a social worker showed up on my doorstep with you. You were used to living in Indiana at that point so I moved out there. Went back to the town your grandparents raised Al to raise you.”

Eddie frowned. “Then how did Grandma move back to Kentucky?”

“After your grandfather died,” Wayne explained, “he wanted to buried in the family plot. She fully intended to move back to Hawkins to help with you, but she fell and broke her hip.”

Eddie sighed. “And since you were already taking care of me, it was Aunt Penny that took her in?”

Wayne nodded. “All this to say that family is complicated. And grief is a funny thing. You can think you’re over it and something: a smell, a piece of a song, a person walking down the street and suddenly it’s as fresh as the day it happened.”

He knew. He felt that way about his mom all the time. Sometimes it was as simple as picking up her old guitar and strumming a note. Sometimes it would something one of the kids did or said. He knew.

“I wish I hadn’t asked him to come,” he groused.

“I don’t,” Wayne said fiercely. “I think we all need this trip for one reason or another.”

Steve walked back out of the gas station looking a little more lively. Eddie waved and Steve smiled, breaking into a jog to join them.

“Hey,” he said a little winded. “You didn’t have to let me sleep like that.”

Eddie smiled back. “Nah, you needed it.” He pulled Steve’s keys out of his pocket and tossed it to him. “It’s your turn to drive.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Eddie was just telling me your mom came from Kentucky,” Wayne said gently.

Steve smile faltered a bit. “From Lexington. She’s a Lexington Kincade.”

Wayne blinked a moment. “Holy shit, son. When you said you were wealthy I didn’t realize you meant that kind of money.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t like talking about it. I haven’t seen that side of my family since I was little. Her two older brothers, one got the business, the other got the house, but my mom got all the money. They never forgave her for that.”

Wayne nodded. “Even though the house and the business were worth more than the cash, money makes good people go mad.”

Steve looked him in the eye. “I know.”

“Never said you didn’t, son,” he assured him. “I’m sure you know better than most. I’m just commiserating.”

“Thank you,” Steve murmured. “Most people try to tell me to stop whining about it. I can have whatever I want, so that means I can’t miss the simpler things.”

“Go get gassed up,” Wayne said with a smile, “and then we’ll hop back on the road.”

Steve nodded.

“And stay close behind me,” he warned. “I don’t want you getting lost. Ed knows the way but it’ll be better if you don’t beat me there, okay?”

“Outsiders get met with shot guns,” Steve muttered darkly. “I’m aware.”

He pounded Steve on the shoulder and slipped back into his truck. He watched as Steve and Eddie chatted as Steve filled up the car. They walked in together and were back out with more sodas.

When they were securely nestled in Steve’s BMW, Wayne pulled back out into traffic, Steve following close behind.

Every time he glanced in his review mirror, a small smile crept on his face. Those two boys were good for each other.

They pulled into a old white house with a large front porch. There was a beat up brass colored 1972 F150 on the lawn and dark blue Chevy Cavalier in the drive way.

The steps sagged and the paint was peeling. Steve was in love. He adored places like this. Because it was someone’s home and not just their house.

There was a woman standing on the front porch, leaning against the supports at the top of the stairs. Her hair was dark and straight, she had brown eyes and a round form. Steve could tell she had worked hard her whole life.

And without a doubt she was going to judge him for not having done the same.

Wayne and Eddie were by his side in an instant though, closing ranks against the woman on the porch. Which meant this was the fabled Aunt Penny.

Steve couldn’t help but wonder how in the hell did Wayne turn out the way he did with siblings like Penny and Al.

“Penny,” Wayne greeted.

“Wayne,” she greeted back dryly. “I wasn’t too keen about you bringing a stranger along. Still can’t say I am on the sight of him.”

Steve popped his hip. “Oh bless your heart, I didn’t realize that I had to be blood-related to want to be there for Eddie and Wayne in their time of mourning.”

Wayne’s eyes went wide as he slowly turned to Steve with his whole body.

Eddie’s jaw dropped before he began cackling.

Penny looked him up and down again. “You’ll do.” And walked back into the house.

“Boy, you got a death wish?” Wayne asked after his sister went inside.

Steve scoffed. “No, but I wasn’t going to let her set the tone for this trip. If I didn’t stick up for myself now, she would spend the trip walking over me, and I haven’t been through hell to have some woman completely unrelated to me be that fucking rude.”

Eddie clasped his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes at Steve. “My hero!” He swooned against the car causing Steve to laugh.

“Come on, you menace,” he said shaking his head fondly. He held out his hand to help Eddie up, but he popped up like a daisy and swanned past him.

Wayne gripped Steve’s shoulder again. “She’s a tough old bird, my sister, but I think you’ll get along with her kids just fine.”

“You want to give me a rundown before I go charging into the hornets’ nest?”

He cocked his head to the side and then cheerfully chirped. “No.” He turned on his heel and walked into the house without preamble.

Steve shook his head. It was looking like it was going to be really long week.

Steve walked into a room that would have barely fit in his kitchen. But the furniture looked comfortable and the room itself, inviting.

What wasn’t so inviting was the glares he was getting from half the people in the room. These must be the cousins. There were three girls and a boy.

The oldest of the girls was a curly-haired redhead about his age or a little younger. But unlike the orange color of Max’s hair it was more like a rich auburn. It was piled on her freckled head in an untidy mass to try and beat the last of the summer heat. She wore a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a white t-shirt tied up under her chest.

The younger of the two girls and clearly the youngest, had dark hair and eyes. She looked to be Holly’s age. She wore a rainbow shirt and coveralls that had been drawn and colored on. Her hair was in two braids that did remind him of Max.

The only boy wore an expression that would have put Mike’s surly sneer to shame. Like his younger sister, his hair and eyes were dark, but his hair was curly like his older sister’s. He was in that awkward middle stage of growth where everything all at once too big and too small.

His style matched that of Eddie’s, ripped black jeans and band shirt that Steve couldn’t read the name of because of the swirling font. He knew Eddie would scoff at him about that later.

Eddie bounced up to Steve with a grin. “Let’s get you to a phone so you can call Robin.”

Steve nodded as Eddie led the way to the kitchen. They came back out a minute later and Eddie waved his arm at the assembled family.

“Stevie, these are the Nelsons. The Mike wannabe is Oliver, the cutie-patootie is Abigail, call her Gale, not Abby. She kicks.” Steve snorted. He could believe it. She reminded him a bit of Erica in that way. “And the eldest and smartest of my aunt’s brood is Lauren. She is the best person you’ll ever meet.”

Steve scoffed. “I think Robin would fight her for that title.”

Eddie laughed.

Oliver glared at him. “Who’s Mike?”

Steve looked him up and down. “He’s one of the kids I used to babysit. Smart kid with a barbed tongue. He’s in Eddie’s old club, Hellfire. Plays a level thirteen paladin.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, impressed.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yeah and just how old is this wizkid?”

“Fifteen,” Steve said with a shrug. “But I’m not sure he’s the smartest of his Party. Dustin built a CV tower from scraps in his basement. Then there’s Will who is a DM like Eddie. Really creative. Can paint and draw. And there’s Lucas. He’s just as smart as Mike, but he also helped his basketball team win the championship as a freshman. They all are in Hellfire, in fact.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you. You just made them up.”

Eddie licked the top of his teeth slowly. “Nope, they’re really real.”

Steve pulled out his wallet and took out a picture. He handed it to Oliver. He pointed to each one in turn, naming them and then snatched the picture back.

“Why would you need to babysit?” Oliver asked, knowing he couldn’t win the argument about them being real. “I know designer clothes when I see them. You clearly don’t need the money.”

“I like kids, but especially those kids.”

Eddie smirked. “They like you, too.” He paused and tapped his lips for a second. “Well...except Mike.”

“Comes with dating his older sister at one point,” Steve said with a shrug.

“I still don’t know why you guys never could make it work,” Eddie said with a frown. It was something he couldn’t get out of... well, any of them really.

Steve looked down at the picture. He put it away and then pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the end. “Her best friend died in my pool while we were dating. It was a party at my house. She blamed herself, but I think she mostly blamed me.”

The room went deathly silent. A pin landing on the soft carpet would have sounded like a bomb going off.

“Aaaannnddd...” Lauren said bouncing up from her chair, “that’s about enough of that.” She smacked the back of Oliver’s head. “You were begging for trouble with that one, dipshit.”

She grabbed Steve’s arm and started dragging him over to the sofa. “You’re going to come over here with me and tell me all about Robin so I can be the judge of who is more awesome and why it’s obviously me.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as Lauren defused the situation. Because holy fucking shit. Now he knew why no one wanted to talk about it.

Wayne came up beside him. “Who’s he talking about, son?”

Eddie chewed on his lip. “I think he’s talking about Barb Holland. Nancy and her were pretty tight before she died.”

“Another bullshit cover up?” Wayne murmured.

Eddie nodded and Wayne nodded back.

“A boy that young shouldn’t have seen as much death as he has,” Wayne murmured.

Eddie could only agree. Especially from white-bred middle America.

***

Pt 4|Pt 5|Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #minor character death #dealing with grief

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lieslab · 3 months

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Comflex

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 5.9K

A/N: Shout out to all the baddies who struggle with hyper-independence. A request was made for it and here you go. There's a bit of angst in some parts. There are some with trigger warnings, but this is mostly light-hearted. Enjoy <3

_ _ _

Chan:

Being independent was something you prided yourself on. It was the one trait you had that nobody could take away from you. Things could be hard sometimes, but you knew that you’d always be able to find the inner strength within yourself to overcome any obstacle brought your way.

It was no different when you decided to order an upgraded dresser for your bedroom. The instructions were included and you had good music playing in the background. Step-by-step, you managed to figure it out. Everything was going great until you somehow screwed up a step.

“Do you need some help with that?” Chan asked. He dipped his head around the corner of the room. Your back was facing him as he stepped further in. “I’m pretty good at building things.”

“No thank you, I’ve got it.” You picked up a screw and began to try to place it into a hole. Using your fingers, you twisted it inside until it fit.

“Okay, but you know you can always ask for help, right?”

“I know.”

A small chuckle fell from him. He watched you struggle with the screw for a few more moments. He opened his mouth wanting to help, but then shut it again. He spun around and walked out deciding to let you to your own devices.

After about an hour, your victorious laugh came from your room. You let out an excited cheer and stood up eager to show off your handy building skills to Chan. You were about to turn around to go get him when you stepped back with your hands on your hips.

Your head tilted to the side and a frown fell on your face. Something about the dresser didn’t look right. Your music still faintly played in the background. You were excited about finishing it, but now it looked wrong.

Chan’s footsteps padded along the carpet as he headed towards you. “Hey, did you get it done?” He grinned and stepped into the room expecting to see a perfectly pieced together wooden dresser equipped with drawers and knobs.

It only took one look at the dresser before he busted into a fit of giggles. He dropped to his knees with a hand on his stomach. His neck curved down and his chin fell to his chest.

“What’s so funny?” You huffed with your hands on your hips.

“Where are the knobs?”

“Oh!” Your face lit up with realization. “That explains why it looks so strange. They’re on there, but…”

“What did you do?”

“I put the front of the drawers on backwards. The knobs are hooked onto them, but they’re turned around and facing the inside of the dresser. Geez, no wonder it looks a little dumb.”

“No, it doesn’t look dumb, it’s just um unique?” Chan grinned.

“You’re not helping the situation.”

He laughed again, “how about I help you fix it?”

“But I-”

“I promise it won’t hurt to let me help you out. It’ll be easier and we can fix it quicker. You unscrew one side and I’ll unscrew the other. A super quick fix, I promise.”

Begrudgingly you finally agreed and within another fifteen minutes, you were fully finished. You plopped back on your butt and sighed. The brass knobs were now facing out, so you were able to open the drawers.

“I think it looks so much better,” you commented.

“You’re right.”

“It could have been worse.”

“I hope you don’t become a furniture builder.” Chan leaned forward and gently flicked the tip of your nose with a shy grin. “Imagine if you were building a door and put the lock on the outside of the door instead of the inside.” He bursted into another round of giggles.

“Hey!”

_ _ _

Minho:

TW: Mentions of a car wreck and shock.

At the end of your workday, you drove straight to the JYP building to pick up Minho. The two of you had plans to go get dinner at a nice restaurant in the area. At the end of a tough week, it was a great way for both of you to relax and wind down.

When you stepped into the JYP building with wide eyes and shaking hands, Minho knew there was something wrong instantly. He pulled away from his conversation with Felix and walked over to you with a frown. You didn’t even have to say anything.

“What’s wrong?” He glanced over you up and down with pinched eyebrows. In the distance, even Felix looked concerned.

Your skin was two shades paler and you looked like you had seen a ghost. Not wanting to cause any concern, you shrugged. “Nothing, why?”

“You seem dazed or something. Are you running a fever?” The back of his hand went up and pressed against your forehead before you could object. The warmth of it was nice, but you pulled away.

“I’m alright, it’s just been a rough day. Are you ready to go? I know I’m a little later than I planned to be. I didn’t mean to get caught up in traffic.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

He leaned over his shoulder and said something to Felix. You weren’t really paying attention to his words. You waved at Felix before you turned around and headed to the door. The familiar footsteps of Minho sounded behind you.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.”

You continued heading to the spot your car was in. Minho fell into a casual conversation about something that happened in dance practice earlier. You hummed softly and continued walking until there was a gasp from behind you.

You turned around to find Minho with big eyes and a dropped jaw. He was staring at your car. The back half of it was crushed. The back bench of seats in your vehicle were nearly obliviated. Metal was crunched and twisted together.

“What the hell happened? When did this happen? Your car was fine yesterday!”

“I got into a fender bender on the way here.”

“A fender bender?” Minho roared. He rushed towards you in a panic.“Are you injured? Did you go to the hospital?”

“I don’t need to go, I’m fine. I don’t need to go if I’m not injured. Don’t worry, the car is still driveable.”

“No, no, no, no, no, nope.” He bent down and gently grabbed your wrists. “You’re not driving and we’re not going to the restaurant. Did you, at least, get checked over by paramedics?” Worry filled his dewy eyes.

“No, I didn’t need to. I’m alright, I promise. Let’s just go get something to eat, it’s not a big deal.”

“No wonder you look so out of it.” He reached up and pressed two fingers against the side of your neck to feel your pulse. “You’re in a state of shock. Your heart is pounding like crazy probably from all the adrenaline.”

“Please don’t make it a big deal.”

“This is a big deal. You could be injured and you have no idea. Your brain is in shock right now. If you’re in pain, your brain is protecting you from feeling it. We need to get you to the hospital before it wears off.”

You frowned, feeling annoyed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your dinner plans. The idea of sitting in a hospital for the rest of the evening wasn’t ideal either. “But I’m okay,” you tried to insist again.

“Don’t make me pick you up and haul you to the nearest hospital. I will fling you over my shoulder and pin you there. For your safety, you are going to the hospital. This isn’t a simple request, it’s a demand.”

“Do you have to be so bossy?”

“This is regarding your safety, so yes. Come on,” he tugged you towards the building. “I’m going to have one of the guys drive us there. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

_ _ _

Changbin:

“My sweet pookie wookie bear, where are you?” Changbin called out once he arrived through the front door. His loud voice carried throughout the room and met you directly in the kitchen.

The sudden loud sound sent another wave of pain radiating through your head. With half-closed eyes, your hands shook while trying to cut up potatoes. You pushed the knife down further until your grip slipped.

The potato rolled off the cutting board and hit the ground with a soft thud. Changbin’s head perked up at the noise. He grinned and rushed to the kitchen eager to greet you after a long day in the recording studio.

You promised you’d make him dinner. He was happy to enjoy your cooking and your food, but he was even happier to see you. After all, you were the love of his life.

“Hi, baby! You lo- oh?” He frowned, taking in your drooped head. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are you sad?” He opened his arms and walked towards you.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. You were the opposite of fine. Every muscle sat saturated with an unbearable ache. Your voice was somewhat hoarse and your throat was on fire. The unnatural amount of sweat dripping from your forehead wasn’t helping either.

His biceps wrapped around you in a bear hug. “Oh, you poor thing. You’re not fine, you look far from it.” He bent down and pressed his lips to the center of the forehead.

That quick kiss was just supposed to be an act of affection. However, the warmth radiating from your forehead told Changbin a different story. He pulled away with a frown. “Baby, you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated. “I just need a moment before I start cooking. I promised that I’d make yo-”

“Nope,” he tugged you closer, “you’re not making anything besides dreams. Let’s go get you into bed. I can get you some medicine and you can take a cruise to dreamland.”

You weakly tried to pull away, but his grip was tight around your waist. He chuckled full of amusement. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to make you dinner.”

“You don’t have to make me dinner. We can reschedule our dinner plans. It’s not a big deal and your health is important.”

A frown fell upon your face, “but you wanted my special potato dish. I need to do this for you. I don’t wanna let you down.”

“And my cravings can wait. You’re not going to let me down at all! What happens if you cut off a finger while trying to chop potatoes? Not only is that unsanitary, but then it’ll lead to a hospital trip. I know how much you hate hospitals.”

“What if I made you dinner and then I went to bed?”

“Mmmh, no.” He reached down and picked you up bridal style. “Let’s head towards bed and get some shut-eye. This isn’t the end of the world. Besides, I’m feeling a little sleepy myself.”

Exhausted, you let your head fall against his chest. A soft sigh came out as you let yourself relax in his arms. You shut your eyes while he carried you feeling feverish.

“There you go, I’ve got you, sweetums.”

“Sweetums?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like my pet names. Despite what you say, I’m not dumb. I can see how happy they make you. You can’t hide that twinkling in your eyes.”

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

TW: Blood.

Painting was the perfect way to relax. Indigos and cobalt blue, mauves and maroon, flamingo pinks and sunshine yellow. Hyunjin took his time painting his canvas in his own little world. The soft music in the background only added to the ambiance.

He hummed beneath his breath and sent a swatch of lilac across the canvas. The light pitter-pattering of quick brush strokes filled the air. Caught in a flow state, nothing could pull his attention away from his art.

At least, it was like that until there was the unmistakable sound of glass shattering in the distance. His head snapped to his door and he frowned. When there wasn’t any noise following that, he dropped his brush and got up to investigate.

The unnerving sound of silence created a concoction of fear and anxiety. You had been staying with him recently in his dorm and the two of you were the only ones home. He pulled open his bedroom door and called your name.

In the kitchen, you cursed beneath your breath with your hips supported by a side counter. Blood dripped from the bottom of your foot and painted the tile floor ruby. Your glass cup had shattered into hundreds of tiny shards.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

Your head jerked up to meet his worried eyes. He took a step closer and you quickly put out a hand. “Don’t! Don’t come in here, there’s glass everywhere!”

He glanced down and stayed between the section separating the living room from the kitchen. “Is it in your foot?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I can get it out, just stay there.” The bottom of your foot ached from the large shard. You ignored it and carefully tugged your foot up. You kept your balance on one foot by using the back counter for support.

“Let me get the broom and I-”

“I’ve got it. I don’t want you to get injured. Besides, it’s my mess anyway. You just stay there and I’ll get this out of my foot and clean it up.”

Craning your neck, your body stiffened. The shard sticking out of your foot was pretty large. The sight of it in there dripping with blood made your stomach churn. You forced yourself to swallow a mouthful of your vomit.

When you started to pale and your body tilted, Hyunjin ignored your warning. He went around the glass and rushed towards you. Too dazed to pull away, you let him grab you. His hands found your hips and he lightly squeezed them.

“Can you jump with one foot?”

“Huh?”

“Just trust me, I need you to jump.”

You obliged and jumped. The moment you did, Hyunjin used your momentum and helped lift you onto the counter. He gently grabbed your ankle to look at the wound. His face twisted with disgust. “That looks like it hurts.”

“I can get it,” you pathetically objected.

He shook his head, “you’re going to let me help you. I know you like your independence, but we need this to clot, so it stops bleeding. You’re not going to help it by walking around it. Just stay here and rest. I’ll go get the stuff to clean it and pull the glass out.”

“I don’t need your help,” you mumbled.

“You either let me help you or I call 3racha and I force them to pin you down while I remove the glass, clean it, and bandage it.”

You huffed with displeasure, but didn’t fight it. He chuckled, reached forward, and rubbed a hand along the top of your head a few times. You scowled with annoyance. You hated it when people did things for you and Hyunjin’s teasing only made it worse.

“Cheer up, buttercup.” He booped your nose with a laugh. “Just stay here and I’ll be back.”

While he was gone, you glanced down at your foot. Blood was still dripping from it. The sticky substance ran down the underside of your foot and kept dripping from your heel onto the floor. Another queasy feeling pulsed through your body. You shut your eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

As much as you hated to admit it, it was better for Hyunjin to help you. At least, if you ended up fainting, he’d be there to make sure you were okay. That was far better than the alternative of fainting and gaining a head injury too.

_ _ _

Han:

“Can you just let me tr-”

“No.”

“But I-”

“Nope.”

“You are being suc-”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You are going to end up hurting yourself,” Han stared at you with round eyes filled with worry. “You don’t need to be lifting such heavy boxes by yourself. I told you I can help you and I can have the guys co-”

“I don’t need them or you,” you insisted. You bent down and scooped up another cardboard box full of stuff. “I’m perfectly capable of doing this by myself.”

“You should bend your knees more and engage them instead of your back.”

“Pft, don’t tell me how to lift.”

Han sighed and lifted his hands and backed up. After agreeing to move from your apartment into his, you had to pack all your stuff and move it. Packing it all up was simple, but moving it was another story. You were on the second floor of your complex and, with your fierce determination, you refused to let anyone help you.

With an ego and your pride outweighing your sense of safety, you ignored the constant strain you were putting on your back and your fucked up lifting form. Every time Han had attempted to offer a little help, you brushed it off. You were convinced that you didn’t need help, even if it took you double the amount of trips down to your car.

“Are you dumb?” Han got out as you placed one box on top of another. “You’re already straining your back way too much, you’re seriously going to hurt yourself!”

“I’m not going to hurt myself for the millionth time. Can you stop worrying so much? I’ll be fine.” You lined your legs up and dropped down to grab the bottom box and lift it up. Gritting your teeth together, you lifted your body.

Instead of focusing on pushing yourself back up with your knees, you lifted yourself up via your waist. With a proud grin, you beamed at Han. “See? I told you I was fi-” The sharp stabbing pain in your lower back proved otherwise.

Caught off guard, you dropped the boxes and your knees buckled. You hit the ground hard and caught yourself from face planting by pushing your hands against the boxes. Han rushed forward and plopped down at your side.

“I told you! Are you okay?” His hands went to your waist. “What hurts? What did you do?”

“My back,” you mumbled. Your hand slipped back and brushed along the small of your back. You winced and reached back with your other hand to massage it.

“Shit,” Han whispered, “do you need a doctor or something?”

“No! It’s really not that bad,” you attempted to push yourself up, “I-” You instantly winced and went back to resting on your knees. Your hands pressed into the soft skin of your back. Defeatedly, your head dropped to your chest.

“Can I touch it?” Han asked.

You hesitated before you pulled your hands away from your back. He shifted closer and let his fingers trail along your spine. He slipped his hands down and gently pressed along your back. His breath was warm on your neck. “What hurts?”

When his fingers moved lower, you winced. He frowned and shifted his hands. His thumbs lightly pressed against a back muscle and massaged it. “Maybe you just pulled a muscle?” He offered.

“It hurts.”

“I know it does. I’ve pulled muscles before while dancing. Come on, let’s get you an epsom salt bath. If it still hurts after that, maybe you should consider the doctor or a chiropractor. This is why I was worried about you lifting boxes.”

He got up, held his hands out to you, and grabbed your forearms. He helped you stand and started to lead you to the bathroom at a slow pace. “I know you like doing things on your own and proving that you're strong. You don’t have to lift heavy things to prove your strength.”

“I know you, I know how strong you are. Physically, emotionally, and mentally; I already know. Next time, please let me help you.”

You finally nodded and accepted it. A faint apology fell from your lips. Han chuckled and shook his head. “It’s alright. You can be strong and you can be brave, but you’re allowed to be vulnerable too.”

_ _ _

Felix:

TW: Implied depression and anxiety.

You loved letting Felix help you with mundane tasks. You liked watching his eyes sparkle and disappear into crescents as he grinned when you let him help you bake something. You liked it when he got clingy and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. He buried his head into the crook of your neck to inhale your scent.

You liked the way he got excited when he talked about his travel adventures. You loved listening and watching him talk with his hands. You liked the way he walked with you down the sidewalk and kept himself between you and the road as if he was protecting you.

You liked how he clung to you like a koala every night and wrapped his limbs around yours. He nuzzled his head into your chest and fell asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist and his ear pressed against your heart. He always drifted to sleep to the sound of your breathing.

Likewise, he liked the way you’d sometimes make him breakfast without asking. He liked that you knew the drinks he liked and sometimes you’d spontaneously show up to the studio with one for him. He liked your sweet kisses and your touch. You made him feel safe and wanted. You made him feel loved in ways that other people couldn’t.

However, you had one downfall. One fatal flaw that continuously destroyed you. The one single trait you had that you couldn’t shake. When it came to showing your emotions, you struggled with it. Specifically, your more negative emotions.

You never let yourself be emotionally vulnerable with Felix the way he was around you. You knew he’d never judge you for your feelings. He’d never tell you how you should or shouldn’t feel. He wouldn’t shred your feelings like other people had done before, but you still couldn’t trust him.

You were terrified that once you’d get comfortable enough, the relationship would fall apart. Your emotions were like tsunami waves and hurricane winds mixed together. They knocked you to the ground and then you drowned in them; your anger, your sadness, your fears, your anxieties.

You held those emotions deep inside of you until you snapped. Emotional independence seemed like something you should have been proud of. You dealt with your inner demons on your own, but even the strongest people have days when they feel weak.

For weeks your emotions built up and this morning, they crumbled. You laid with your head in your crossed arms slung over the bar counter. Planted in your chair, you wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. The thought of continuing the day with mundane tasks made you want to wreck the apartment and then burst into tears.

You should have been eating breakfast, but instead you were trying to lasso in your emotions once again. In the silence with your eyes squeezed shut, you struggled with the fall out of everything. Too trapped in your own head, you didn’t even hear Felix approach you.

“Hey,” he spoke softly. His hands went to your back. “Are you alright?” He gently rubbed his hands along the curve of your spine.

You sniffled and pulled yourself up, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, I know you’re not.” He reached over and pulled you into his arms. Still sitting in your chair, you let your head rest into his chest. “You don’t have to be perfect around me, you know? Whatever you’re struggling with, I can handle it.”

“I know, but I don’t want to ruin your morning or add to your stress.”

“You’re not going to hurt me by telling me what’s wrong. Honestly, I worry more about you when you don’t tell me what’s wrong. How am I supposed to help you when I don’t know how?”

You shrugged your shoulders and stayed quiet thinking about his words. He reached up and stroked the back of your hair. Your arms slipped around his waist. He stayed like that for a while until you pulled away.

“I feel like I’m burnt out,” you finally got out. “Everything feels so overwhelming. Work is stressful and my mental health hasn’t been the best.” You avoided Felix’s eyes.

He stared at you and nodded, taking in your words. He reached out and gently pushed your hair from your eyes. “Well, I have the day off and so do you. You wanna have a mental health day? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. We could just stay here cuddling and watching movies.”

“Really?” Your eyes finally met his.

He smiled, “of course. Whatever you want to do, I’ve got your back. If you want to go out somewhere, we can do that too.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you actually,” he leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open up. I know it’s difficult for you, but I’m proud of you.”

Your cheeks flushed red and you buried your head back into his chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. After kissing the top of your head, a soft sigh left his body. His chin rested on the top of your head. In his arms, nothing could go wrong.

_ _ _

Seungmin:

TW: Angst.

“Do you purposefully live your life pushing everyone away?”

“Huh?” You glanced up from your bowl of soup. The two of you were eating lunch at your apartment.

“You refuse to let anyone help you do anything.”

“That’s no-”

“Last week you refused to let me wash dishes or do laundry. A few days before that, you were sick and refused to let me take care of you. People want to help you, but you continuously push them away. It’s like you want to die alone.”

The words were like a knife sinking into the middle of your heart. You frowned and your eyes went down to the wooden table. Your soup didn’t taste nearly as good anymore. You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Is that your plan?” Seungmin pressed. “Do you want to die alone? Do you even want to be with me? I’m right in front of you and you still continue to push me away. It’s like I’m not here. I could scream at you and you’d still act like I’m a ghost.”

He knew you liked being independent, but lately it annoyed him. You were always so insistent that you were fine and you could do everything. Even when the weight of the world was on your shoulders, you gritted your teeth, bent your knees, and pretended it was fine.

“What do I have to do to get you to trust me?” He slouched back in his chair defeated. “I’ve tried to show you. I’ve bought you things you like. I’ve constantly reassured you. When is this relationship going to become about us instead of just you? I don’t know how we’re supposed to continue this when you refuse to communicate with me.”

You stayed silent. Tears began to prickle in your eyes. Your biggest fear was happening before your very eyes and it was entirely your fault. You refused to let Seungmin break the wall of bricks you built around yourself.

“What more do you want from me?” Seungmin got out. “We can’t continue this relationship unless you attempt to make it work. I can’t continue to be with you and watch you try to do everything by yourself. The mundane things, the cooking, the cleaning, your feelings, and your emotions; why won’t you let me help you with them? I want to help you.”

Your bottom lip quivered and you sniffled. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m terrified that if I start to rely on you, if I trust you too much, you’re just going to leave. I don’t want to be left alone again.”

Again.

The word made Seungmin’s heart drop to his stomach. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally got out. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but if I’m being honest, it hurts me when you’re constantly like this.”

“I want to show you that I’m here for you. I want to have you trust me more. How can I do that when you won’t even let me wash our dishes? You won’t even let me fold my own clothes. They’re simple tasks and they won’t kill me.”

“I’m sorry,” your voice shook. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just-” Tears filled your eyes. “I’m so used to doing things by myself including house chores. When I was younger, it was expected and if I didn’t do them, I’d get yelled at. Things have been ingrained in me and I don’t know how to get rid of them.”

“I don’t know how to stop being like this. I don’t know how to not be overbearing and too controlling. When I’m not in charge, when I can’t do things, it makes me spiral. I worry that something will go wrong.”

Seungmin stayed quiet listening to you. He pushed vegetables and meat through the sodium filled broth in his bowl. When you finished, he glanced up again.

“Can we start small? Can you come home once a week and really truly tell me how you feel? Will you let me, at least, help you wash dishes and cook meals occasionally?”

“I guess I can probably do that.”

“Thank you.”

“But I really am sorry,” your eyes met his. “I didn’t realize my hyper-independence was hurting you so much. I’ll make an effort to try and change things. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, babe. Have you tasted this soup? This is better than Lee Know’s stuff.”

“Don’t tell him that!”

“Too late. I already texted him and he says you're banned from cooking for the other members. If you can sway my opinion, you can probably sway the others too.”

_ _ _

Jeongin:

You didn’t mind the winter weather, at least, until your car broke down. You weren’t looking forward to working on Saturday when it was supposed to be one of your days off. Begrudgingly, you got up like usual and headed into work.

You were halfway home when your car began to sputter and die on a back road. The road was a shortcut and shaved off five minutes of usual traffic on the main roads. It was something you always relished until today.

It was an annoyance, but you could make do. Jeongin was at home waiting for your arrival. You reached down to pull your phone from the bag you always took to work. You grumbled and dug your hand inside searching for it.

When you couldn’t find it, you dumped the bag out onto the seat beside you. To your horror, you realized that you didn’t have it with you. You dug your hands into your pockets. You got out of the car and made sure it wasn’t beneath you in the seat. You nearly ransacked the front of the car searching until you realized you must have forgotten it back at work.

And the best part? You left your giant winter coat at home. You threw on a simple zip up hoodie this morning and called it good enough. It never crossed your mind that the car could break down.

You sat for what felt like minutes waiting for someone to drive by. You planned on flagging them down and asking them for a phone. You had Jeongin’s phone number memorized, so all you had to do was type it in and call him to come pick you up.

The warmth in your car began to fade the longer you waited. Your arms folded across your torso attempting to stay warm. You sat and sat and sat some more. All that you could hear was your soft breathing and the thump of your heartbeat.

Realizing that you’d have to walk, you sighed and got out of the car. You took out the bag you used for work that contained your wallet and laptop. You threw the car keys in a section after locking the car. Sticking to the correct side of the road, you began to walk.

The more you walked, the colder you got. There weren’t any sidewalks and the roads were a mixture of snow and ice. It took you twenty-five minutes to get home by car. You were halfway there, but with the horrible road conditions, who knew how long it’d really take you.

Back in your apartment, Jeongin was caught up watching YouTube videos on the living room TV. After quite a while, he sat up and glanced over at the analog clock across the way. Realizing that it was later than the time you normally got home, by nearly forty-five minutes, he frowned.

He pushed himself off the velvet couch and began to head over to the front door. He opened the front door to peer outside and see if you were parked out front. Besides his car, the driveway was empty.

“Where are you?” He mumbled as he pulled out his phone to text you. He paced while he waited for your response. Five minutes later, he called, starting to panic, but you never picked up.

Ten minutes later, feeling like a human popsicle, you attempted to open the front door. Your fingers seemed to be frozen solid and you could barely bend them. Your teeth clicked and chattered together. You fumbled desperately trying to get into the warmth.

Hearing the commotion, Jeongin hurried over and opened the door. He barely caught you in time before you hit the ground. Your whole body was freezing cold. You shivered non-stop.

“Woah, what happened? Why are you so cold? Where’s your car?” He tugged you inside and shut the door.

The truth was that by the time you spotted a car, you were nearly home. The idea of asking someone to use their phone felt silly at that point. You were too stubborn to ask for assistance, so you struggled the rest of the way home and decided to freeze instead.

All you could get out was a soft whimper. He wrapped his arms around you. “You poor thing, why didn’t you call me? I would have come and got you. You didn’t have to walk. Did you walk all the way home?”

“Broke down,” you got out, “lost phone.”

“And your propper coat?”

“Left it here.”

“You’re going to catch a cold or the flu or something.” He bent down and began untying your shoes. “You should have stopped someone. You better not develop hypothermia and die. Are you frost-bit anywhere?”

You managed to shake your head.

“Well, at least, you have all your limbs. You know you can ask for help, right? Multiple people would have helped you. Oh my god.” His eyes were full of worry.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, come on.” He tugged you towards him. “Let’s get you snuggled into bed and I’ll make you hot chocolate. After that, I’ll warm you up.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you could still die. If you die, your ghost will never hear the end of it.” He bent down and slung you over his shoulder. “Do you hear me? Your ghost will never know a single day of peace.”

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @s3ungmins

Masterlist

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fanfiction #kpop fanfic #skz fanfic #skz imagines #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

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riverlikethelake · 1 year

Text

Tìfyawìntxu

Summary: Your training starts, and you can't quite figure out Neteyam. Tension is thick, you know next to nothing about anything but the research done about Pandora, and you wish you could hear his thoughts, know what he thinks about you.

Pairing: Neteyam x Avatar!reader

Word count: 8.5k

Warnings/notes: mentions of death, depression, angst, fluff, development of platonic/familial relationships, Spider tries, Protective!Norm, foster family in the lab, the pacing isn't really what i wanted but we're getting there, slowburn, slight enemies to lovers, Neteyam and reader are in denial

series master list | Would stardust fix us? Part two

Newtons third law: Action & Reaction

His third law states that for every action (force) in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction. If object A exerts a force on object B, object B also exerts an equal and opposite force on object A. In other words, forces result from interactions.

You learned about Newton’s laws 4 years ago when Grace mentioned them in one of her logs, she was explaining her an another scientists research on the Ikrans, their anatomy vastly different from anything alive on earth and they wanted to compare them to Pterosaurs. Flying fascinated you after that, fully diving into any books you could find on physics and birds.

Like how you wanted to learn about everything on Pandora, compensating for never being able to see it, you wanted to know everything about flying, maybe if you knew enough you could imagine what its like.

“And she just let you in like that?” Norm questions, from across the table, pulling a chunk of bread off his piece with his teeth. You nod, widening your eyes and smiling, just as surprised as your foster father.

The two scientists look between each other, a moment passes and Norm shrugs “I mean Jake got in for about the same while the relations were significantly worse, it’s not unimaginable” He nods to Max who has a tentative look on his face.

He purses his lips and shakes his head to himself “Y/n I’m not sure how i feel about this” He speaks hesitantly “I mean i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in the link pod for extended periods of time, all day every day” You frown at his words, your shoulders slumping, demeanor visibly changing.

“Max..” Norm says in a low whisper, moving his hand to shield his mouth from you, as if what they’re saying isn’t to be heard. Max looks at him, he tilts his head carefully. After a moment, Max purses his lips and turns to you, “We can continue this conversation later, tell us about what you saw” a guarded smile forming on his lips.

You don’t like how he changed the subject, feeling as if they’re hiding something from you, but you take a deep breathe and start recalling the forest, every image of it engraved in your mind

The decompression door goes off and all your heads turn, Spider walks through, pulling off his oxygen mask and tilting his head to the side to stretch his neck.

“You’re late” Norm speaks through a full mouth.

“Aren’t I always?” Spider asks, a smirk on his face. “Jake and Neytiri wanted to talk to me about Y/n, they wanted to talk to her but you were disconnected by then” he explains motioning his hand towards you as he walks over.

You frown “They told me i could go to sleep?” You state confused. He shrugs and plops down next to you, grabbing a piece of bread from your plate and taking a bite.

“Yeah but I guess they forgot that you can’t really be ‘woken up’” He mumbles through the bread in his mouth “It was funny seeing Jake get all fumbled about forgetting” he laughs, pointing at Norm who cracks a smile.

“The mighty Olo’eyktan, you’d think with how attached he is to guns he’d still have some human left in him.” You roll your eyes as they take turns making jabs at the ex-marine. You make eye contact with Max who shares your expression, a smile cracks on both your lips as you roll your eyes and he shakes his head.

You lean over and nudge Spider’s shoulder “Y’know Spider, this means you don’t have to try and remember every detail of your day.” You grin. His smile falters for just a moment, a look passes through his eyes but it blinks away before you can recognize it. “And you can take me to all your favorite places”

He leans back in his chair, keeping his eyes on you before he grins. “That’s as long as Neteyam doesn’t take up all your time” your eyes widen, you purse your lips nervously and glance away. You hadn’t thought about the training yet, Neteyam had yet to leave your mind but you honestly don’t know what to expect with the upcoming training.

You shake your head and open your mouth to deny the accusation but he interrupts you, “Or maybe you’ll get all spiffy and serious like him” his smirk has doubled in size now. At this, you roll your eyes and throw your plastic fork at him.

“I will not, I doubt he’s gonna even pay much attention to me” You lean back in your chair and grab your stolen bread out of your brothers hand. You hadn’t realized Norm had gotten up until hes reaching over and placing a food tray in front of Spider and taking his place in the chair across from you.

Spider leans forward and immediately starts stuffing the food into his mouth, earning a “manners, please” from Max.

“Knowing Neteyam, he might not pay much attention to you but he’ll take his job seriously” Norm states, leaning onto the table. “And he won’t go easy on you” Your eyes dart to Max to confirm his statement, he nods and you throw your head back and groan.

Spider chuckles and pokes at your head making it loll to the side. “Don’t worry Bug, me and Kiri will be on your side” He comforts, pinching at your ear. You move your head to be facing him, you raise a brow and his smirk returns “Lo’ak might try and make things harder” you roll your eyes.

“Of course, what are friends for” You mutter, reaching your hand over to flick his forehead

Norm strides into your room, flipping on your light and pulling off your covers. You groan, flipping over to your side and curling in on yourself. “Rise and shine bug!” he bends down and ruffles your hair “village life starts early so if you don't wanna be late you should get up” you groan and swat your hand at him before rolling back onto your back.

“Maybe a more careful approach next time?” You murmur, squinting your eyes to help them adjust to the light. He laughs and places his hand on your back as you start to pull yourself up, he slides his arm under the bend on your knees and picks you up.

You slip your arms around his neck, your head lolling into his chest. “I can walk” you mumble out, your eyes squint close as he exits your room, subjecting your sensitive vision to an even harsher and brighter light. His chest rumbles, considering your comment before carefully placing you down, keeping his arm your yours for support.

Thankfully, the movement didn’t rush to your head and you remained composed. The walk to the moin area wasn’t far, your eyes still blinking in annoyance when you reach the table. Norm pulls out a chair for you and immediately your scooting closer to the table and resting your head into your arms. A chair scratches the floor next to your and a hand is shaking your upper arm.

“And the princess has risen!” Spider teases, sitting down in his chair and scooting closer to you. You raise your head and realize he had placed your breakfast tray down in front of you. You shoot him an annoyed look for his comment, aware at how you were always the last to wake up.

Despite always waking up late, you barely slept, staying up late at night stuck in your own thoughts, it was going to be a hard adjustment to wake up earlier.

You reach over and pick a grape and pop it into your mouth, chewing sluggishly as your eyes slowly blink open.

“Hurry up, usually i’m out the door by now but I thought id wait for you” The statement pulls a smile at your lips, you straighten up and pull your arms above your head to stretch. Spider’s not the most patient or thoughtful person you know, but you’ve grown to appreciate little moments like these, softness peaking out of the nonchalant exterior he puts up.

The difference you feel when you open your eyes is immediate, maybe it’s the fact that your avatar isn’t sick like your human body is, but there’s something else. The smell of the forest, the rustle of the village and jungle outside of your tent, the air is fresh, moist and sticking to your skin compared to the sterile air of the lab.

It still dark, just a hint of light streaming in through the cracks and makeshift windows of your tent. You pull yourself up from the hammock and take a moment to look around your tent, having been too giddy to really take it in last night. It’s empty, save for a table and some bowls, and of course your hammock and a few spare furs Kiri brought you. It’s not quite homey, a guest room at best, but your room back at the lab isn't much better. The blinding white walls and medical equipment just inches away from your bed always made it feel more like a hospital than a home, so this tent is already a step up.

You run your hand along the walls, feeling the material beneath your fingers, squinting to see the intricate weaving and texture. You want to decipher what it was made out of, what plant, what the technique was, why that plant, when did they find out that plant and that technique worked best. You furrow your brows, you can’t place what it was made out of, it reminds you of the cloth of Jake's battle band but thicker.

You run your eyes across the rest of the tent, looking for a clue when the blanket covering the entrance flaps open. Your freeze, your head snapping towards the entrance, making eye contact with Neteyam. He’s just barely visible, peaking in, holding the blanket aside with his forearm. For a moment he examines you, looking you up and down before glancing around your hammock. You’re frozen in place, hands sweating under his gaze unsure of what to say.

His eyes come back to you and it feels like there’s a dumbbell in your chest. “You are up.” he notes, his voice carrying through the silence of your hammock. You glance down at your hands, wringing your fingers together.

“Norm told me it would be a good idea” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out in a whisper, you’re worried he didn’t even hear you but he nods.

A moment passes before he speaks “You should join us for breakfast” a brief smile presses against his lips before it's covered by the flap, you stare at the spot he stood for a moment before taking a deep breath.

You’re met with the village, alive and waking up, preparing for the works of the day. You’re only a few feet behind Neteyam, meeting his eyes when he briefly glances back at you. You follow behind him anxiously, resisting the urge to look around, wanting to seem as small as possible when you feel the stares follow you.

You speed up your pace, catching up to Neteyam, hoping his presence will shield you from the intensity and distaste that seemed to stab into your skin.

In contrast, Neteyam seems to embody power, with others nodding in his direction when he passes by. despite the feeling on eyes on you, you're almost completely ignored when in Neteyam's presence. Warriors and hunters looking to him with respect and idolization, domestics and gatherers watching him with fondness and curiosity, unmated women unable to keep their eyes off of him.

You wonder what a spectacle you two must be, the chief's son who stays humble under the bows of respect from others, and the outsider stuck by his side, suffocating under the intense air around him.

Neteyam notices your unease but does little to acknowledge you, he’s still unsure of you. You’re harmless, raised by scientists loyal to his people, close friends with his siblings, and the sister of an extension of his family, rationally he shouldn’t have any hesitation in your presence.

But rationality is quick to become scarce, he’s learned. Yesterday he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, analytical of the unknown sky person Eywa brought him to. Today; he can’t bring himself to look at you, unappreciative of the way his body and mind freezes at the mere thought of you.

The only other time he’s felt this was when he came face to face with a pack of nantang, unable to draw his bow or knife, only able to dodge the beast that lunged for him when he heard his sister scream for him.

His uncertainty isn’t absurd, you’re not a danger but he doesn't know you. He’s never actually met someone new, everyone in his life is someone he’s known, even the Na’vi he doesn't know have been present long enough to never raise a second thought in Neteyam’s mind.

You’re a complete mystery to him, you’ve lived not even that far away for 17 years, he’s known your brother for as long as he can remember, and his siblings have apparently been visiting you since before they knew how to hunt. Yet somehow, your mere existence has seemed to go unheard of by him.

He watches as you sit down next to him nervously, a close but comfortable distance, and starts fiddling with your fingers. You look severely out of place, still wearing your human clothes and keeping your head down, but you seem invisible almost. Like he could look away for a moment and you’d blend in with the background instantly, like if he reached out and touched you, you’d dissipate into the air.

He considers testing the theory, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Kiri lunged at you from behind, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling your back to her chest, nuzzling her cheek against yours.

You yelp before being thrown into a fit of giggles. “Kiri, do not scare me like that!” You place your hands on her forearms that rest against your collar bones. She pulls you back further, positioning herself on her knees so she can rest her chin atop your head.

“Y/n, you are are up early.” She teases, rolling the ends of your loose hair between her fingers. You tilt your head back in an attempt to get a better look at her when you see Lo’ak pop up from behind her, leaning over his sister to poke his finger at your cheek.

“Yeah aren't you usually like, just going to sleep by now?” He places his hands on Kiri’s shoulders for stability as he leans over you both to place his face in front of yours, his braids hanging down. You stick your tongue out and push at the side of his head, you thought that since you technically complied with what he wanted by leaving the lab, he’d give up his pestering habits he developed over the years.

Whenever he felt like you were paying too much attention to the computer or something else he blamed for your disinterest in leaving the lab, he’d do anything he could to get in the way of it.

“I’m not up by choice” you state, keeping eye contact with the na’vi as he repositions to be sitting next to you. “I’m just as surprised as you are” a grin spreads across your face in sync with the boy next to you, you hear Kiri sigh before she pinches your cheek.

Neteyam watches your interaction with his siblings, he wouldn’t be surprised if he has whiplash from how quickly your entire demeanor changed, how differently you act with people who aren’t him. Just seconds ago you looked like you were ready to lie down and melt into the ground, now you were much more relaxed, the quiver in your lips replaced with a loud grin.

He didn’t know that you being up at this time was apparently unusual, he half expected it when he came to check up on you. You didn’t tell him that was an ordinary occurrence, but you sure didn’t tell him it wasn’t one. The information you offered his siblings doesn’t contrast what you told him, in fact you didn’t tell him much, not that he asked for much, but it’s vastly different, much more personal.

His point is driven home when Tuk comes bounding through the crowd and throws herself into your arms. “Y/n! Y/n! So it’s true!!” The young girl cries, she wraps her arm around your neck and plops herself down onto your thigh. Her eyes beam up to you, a massive smile stretching across her face as she stares at you in awe.

A soft giggle escapes your lips as you wrap your arms around her and pull her closer, her back against your chest. You smile, repeating her name in a fondness their mother often does. Tuk nuzzles herself into your hold, grabbing your hand and holding it in front of her face to marvel at.

Tuk sputters out as many comments as she can while you and Kiri giggle at her excitement, Lo’ak rolls his eyes and falls back from his heels to sit flat on his butt.

“Are you coming with us today?” Tuk’s question makes both you and Neteyam pause, making brief eye contact before she babbles on about what she has planned. “I wanna collect fruit! I reeaaallly think you’d like Yovo, it’s so sweet and-”

Neteyam reaches over and places a hand on her head, she turns her attention to her brother, her excitement not faltering. He offers her a soft smile before speaking “I’m sorry Tuk-tuk, but it’s my job to teach Y/n” He watches as her head tilts, Kiri and Lo’ak’s attention on him now too. “That means I have her today.”

A stiff pout reaches Tuk’s lips, she glances up to you for some kind of consolation but you simply offer her an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Tuk, but I promise I'll still spend time with you” You brush a braid that fell in her face behind her ear “and once I’m done with my training then we’ll have more time together than ever!” She tilts her head, considering it for a moment, she glances between you and Neteyam before burying her head into your chest.

“You promise?!”

“I promise”

You’re so sweet with his sister, the softest and fondest smile on your lips.

He can’t explain the unpleasantness he feels.

Neteyam doesn’t look back as he strides through the forest, he knows you’re behind him, your raucous stumbling letting him know you’re just a few feet behind him.

You, on the other hand, struggle to keep up with him. His long strides and adept knowledge of the forest give him an advantage you can’t dream of attaining. You try to keep your eyes on him, not wanting to lose him in the forest, but you keep having to look to the ground to watch where you’re stepping.

You doubt Neteyam would let you get lost, you don’t know how long he had followed you, but you know that you weren’t alone for the majority of your time in the forest yesterday. You still try to keep up, jumping over logs and narrowly dodging trees and other sudden obstacles.

A branch jutting out from a nearby bush snags at your shirt, feeling the pull, you immediately turn around to undo the catch, but your foot catches on a surfaced root as you step back. A yelp leaves your lips before you even begin to fall, you throw your arms out to try and find stability in something but it’s useless.

You pull your arms up to protect your head when a pair of hands find purchase under your armpits. Neteyam pulls you up and towards himself, peeking his head over to see the source of your fall as you straighten yourself out.

“Must I carry you?” A smile perks at the corners of your lips but you quickly smush it away. You shake your head and turn to face him, his head tilts forward as he examines you. “You are like a baby, learning to walk” he speaks lamely.

You smile shyly “I have a hard enough time walking in my human body, this will definitely be a learning curve” you try to joke but it falls flat as he scrunches his brows and tilts his head in confusion. He stares at you like he’s trying to speak to you through his eyes, like he’s saying a million things and you’re just not getting it.

After a moment he shakes his head and turns around, continuing his path through the forest. His pace is slower, you notice when you struggle less to follow him. You tread the forest for a few more minutes, you try to keep your focus on Neteyam, knowing that this wouldn’t just be a leisurely walk, but you can’t help the way the forest captivates you.

The weight in your stomach grows with every step, every new specimen you get a glance of, you can’t explain what the feeling is, but you don’t want it to go away.

You snap your attention to Neteyam when he stops abruptly, he looks up to the trees and glances at the surrounding flora.

“What is around us?” He asks, his question catching you off guard. Vague yet intense questioning must run in the family…

You glance around, taking in the forest and vines, plants and creatures growing and living around you. “The forest” You’re technically not wrong, but you know there’s more to it than that so you scramble to say more before he comes to resent your shelteredness more than he probably already does. “Life, plants and animals”

Again, you’re not wrong, but the look he gives you tells you that you’re off the mark. He keeps his gaze on you, looking at you from over his shoulder before turning his attention to a short bush-like plant on the ground. He bends down and plucks two large seeds from the center bulb of the blue plant.

Lionberries, or Cynaroidia decumbens, it’s one of the lesser researched plants, but still well known. He stands up and hands you the seed, carefully you take it and cup it in your hand.

You study it for a moment before looking up to him. “This is the umm.. Kllpxiwll?” You speak slowly, wanting to get the pronunciation right, he tilts his head and nods, a small smile on his lips.

“Kllp-xi-wll” He repeats, sharpening his pronunciation in the beginning “You know of it?” he steps closer and takes a bite out of the second seed. Nervously you glance from the seed to him and nod.

You fiddle with the seed in your hand, feeling the texture and density of it for yourself. “I’ve studied the logs Grace made about the forest” Your eyes dart around the trees, landing on different vines and plants, names popping in and out of your head “um uh this is good for protein right?”

He nods carefully, he takes another bite out of the seed and motions towards yours. Nervously you take a bite, it’s an earthy flavor, a little bitter but its mellow enough to be enjoyable, like the piece of dark chocolate Norm found and gave to you years ago.

He steps back towards the plant and plucks one of the leaves, he rubs his fingers across it several times before running his fingers along the tree next to you, a faint blue mark left behind.

“Around us, is our way of life” He speaks in a mellow voice, keeping his eyes on the shapes he lazily draws with the pigment “When ground up, these leaves create a much more vibrant paste that we use for painting”

He turns to you and holds out his hands, one with the half eaten seed and the other covered in the pigment from the leaf. “Everything here is apart of the way of life we have created, a plant is created from the energy of Eywa” He gestures to the green surrounding you “Animals feed on the plant, using the energy for themselves, we then hunt those animals and use that energy”

He steps forward and swipes his thumb down the center of your forehead, leaving a faint blue mark that blends in with the color of your skin “And once we die, we return the energy back to Eywa” His eyes meet yous “and a plant is born”

Slowly you nod your head, it’s basic science, you learned about life cycles when you were 8, when you were first really getting into the scientific part of everything. It’s an easy thing to understand but somehow this feels deeper, it’s more than just the basic life cycle lesson.

Everything you’ve learned up till now has been through the eyes of a human born on earth, someone who grew up with the way of life that almost destroyed the beautiful planet you stand on now.

You wonder if earth was once this beautiful.

The way humans perceive things is inherently different from the Na’vi, from what you’ve heard, life on earth was kill or be killed, take for yourself and don’t look back. An unimaginable way of life for those on Pandora. So everything you have learned isn’t wrong, scientific wise it might be more than the Na’vi themselves may know, but something tells you that it’s not right either. Perhaps it’s the perspective you’ve learned it through, it’s the same information, but completely different meanings.

You knew that things would be different outside of the lab, being an avatar, but the revelation makes your mind feel paralyzed. It’s barely been a day since you found out you had an avatar at all and you can already feel the humanity of your existence being challenged.

Neteyam saw the change happen, the way your eyes widened and you weren’t just listening to him, but you were hearing him. A smirk passes over his lips as he turns and starts walking away, knowing you’ll follow behind him.

You're exhausted to say the least. Your legs ache from the almost constant walking, the bottoms of your feet sting from the scrapes and pricks from the unforgiving forest floor, your stomach turns and you wonder if you ate too much or too little before you eagerly followed the Olo’eyktan’s son on this journey.

You had been walking for hours, Neteyam wanting to waste as little time as possible. Your head hurt from the constant quizzing he started after you revealed your years of knowledge on the research of Pandora.

You thought you had been making progress with him, his stone demeanor faltering, until your exhaustion got the better of you.

He’d point at a plant or passing animal and you’d have to name it and everything you knew about it. The increasing venom in his stares when you pronounced something wrong only worsened your anxiety, resulting in a less than satisfactory performance.

You pronounced it wrong, you were thinking of a different thing, you didn’t know enough about it, you were just flat out wrong. You just wanted the ground to swallow you whole, you know that you don’t know everything but you’ve studied Pandora your whole life, you know a lot and he’s definitely being to nit picky. It’s your first day being outside of the lab for christ sake! You try to be patient, not let his words affect you, but his snappy comments and rather mean words make you wonder why he even agreed to this in the first place.

“Skxawng, wrong again.” he scoffs, skillfully climbing over a large fallen branch and continuing on, not even waiting for you. The branch is arched and high up, propped up against another tree enough to see through the bramble and vines hanging below it. The tangled vines are too thick to go through, the brush to your sides the same, leaving you with only the option to go over.

You bite your lip and reach your arms up to try to climb the fallen branch but you can’t find a good grip, it’s suspended in the air enough for you to have to almost rely entirely on upper body strength. You grip your fingers into subtle grooves but your fingernails start to sting, so you pull them away. You step back, considering going around it when you notice Neteyam had stopped, you can see his still figure though the vines in front of you.

He stands watching you, narrowing his eyes and observing you. If you went around, you feel it would be failing whatever test you think he’s putting you through. He can’t not teach you, if anything he should understand your hesitation and inability to travel like he does, it would just show him what he needs to help you with more.

But you want to impress him, show him that you’re not just some human that wants to learn for fun, prove yourself worthy of his teaching.

So you take several steps back, eyes scanning the scene when you spot a thick vine hanging from the tree the branch is propped against. Quickly you stride over and pull at it, testing its stability. When it does give, you smile and back up a few steps. You wrap the vine around your hand and pull yourself up, throwing your other hand up and gripping the vine and pulling yourself up till you're at height with the branch. You brace your feet against the free, stabilizing yourself on one before throwing the other over the thick branch.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you once you’ve let go of the vine and you look down. You actually did it. You bite your lip in excitement and swing your other leg over before jumping off and landing on the ground with a thud.

You’re a little disoriented, admittedly, having never jumped from such a height, but you’re on your feet and have no sprained or broken limbs. You whip your head up to meet Neteyams, an excited smile on your lips, full teeth.

He looks you up and down before nodding and turning around. “You are a fast learner, but here…” He looks at you from over his shoulder, gesturing around you “There is no room to hesitate or make a mistake.”

Without a second thought, he continues walking through the forest. You realize what an advantage being blue is, the farther you go into the forest, the more you really have to pay attention as to not lose him. You wonder how he was able to stalk you so well yesterday without even being close or in sight.

You walk for about another half hour, reciting the names and purposes for plants and different animals you pass by, often repeating the ones that show up more than once. You struggle to climb the trees when he insists on it, you’re slow but you manage to make it a fair way up. You can see one of the branches, eagerly, you reach over to pull yourself up to it when you loose your grip.

You scream embarrassingly loud as you fall, grabbing tightly onto the branch or vine you can get a hold of. You still for a moment, still suspended in air, you’re about to take a breath of relief when it snaps and you’re falling again.

The Na’vi are cat-like, you wonder if your avatar wasn’t combines with human DNA if you’d land on your feet, if that happens to the Na’vi in the first place.

Your survival instincts aren’t… good. Anyone raised in the forest would surely do better than closing their eyes and freezing as soon as they feel any type of fear or pain, if you don’t die from the fall then you’re going to die from embarrassment and humiliation.

You can only wonder what Neteyam must be thinking when you feel yourself stop, the ground isn’t as painful as you thought it would be. In fact you don’t even feel the ground, you’re still half suspended in the air.

Slowly you open your eyes to a worried Neteyam, his eyes are scanning your body for any sign of injury before they meet yours. You grimace, about to apologize for your oafishness when he kneels down and carefully sets you down.

You’re on your knees and he’s grabbing your arms, inspecting them with a frown on his face. You silently let him, still frazzled by the experience and not wanting to bother him. His hands ghost across your skin when they land on your shirt, torn at the bottom and along the side up your your armpit.

It doesn’t sting, so you assume the rip is the worst of the damage. After a moment he pulls back and glances over you one more time before meeting your eyes. “Are you ok?” The question snaps you out a state you didn’t realize you were in.

His face is serious, all you can do is nod. A beat passes and he nods and sits back, he stares at you for a moment. “You climbed well…” The statement is awkward, maybe because you’re still in shock but you take a moment before responding.

“I fell” your voice is quiet, you have to clear your throat after it comes out raspy and crackly.

“You made it far” He keeps his gaze on you, intense as always “I am surprised you didn’t fall sooner” You glance up and see a smirk sneaking onto his lips. A quiet chuckle escapes your lips, you wrap your arms around yourself and shift so your legs are folded and you’re no longer on your knees.

“I’m surprised I’m still alive” You joke, rolling your eyes and looking back up to the spot you fell from. Neteyam furrows his brows before leaning forward and pushing at your shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have died” he states, you raise your brow questioningly and he looks up to the tree before pursing his lips “You would have just… hurt a lot” He adds, a wry smile forming on his face.

You roll your eyes again before laughing “I don’t think Norm and Max would ever let me leave my room again” You lean back further and hit the tree, letting all your weight rest against it. “Injuring my avatar in less than 24 hours? I definitely would have thought i’m cursed”

He tilts his head, confused again by your statement, but chooses to drop it. “I think my dad would skin me if i came back and the daughter of his closest friends was injured”

You let out a laugh “Considering how you’ve been able to save me from myself several times, it wouldn’t be your fault at all” You point out, you loom down and start drawing random shapes in the dirt. “Plus i doubt he would care much, maybe he’d be upset but no way you’d take the fall for it.”

He shakes his head “He would definitely care, plus you’re my responsibility” He lazily points to you “You’re like a baby” you roll your eyes “It’s my job to teach you, if you get hurt it’s because i failed to teach you.”

Theres a beat of silence before you frown “That’s stupid” you mumble, keeping your focus on the array of lines and crudely drawn shapes in the same spot of dirt “I’m not helpless” you state. You glance up for a moment only to be met with a raised brow. “I’m not! I mean I’m here because the Tsahik saw some kind of worth in me”

You feel that churning in your stomach you always get before you retreat back to your room, curling up on your bed and pulling up a research log or movie to occupy yourself with. This is the longest you’ve been around someone who wasn’t one of your dads in… years.

Spider, Kiri, and Lo’ak would come around a lot, but it wasn’t for long and when it was, all the attention was on an argument Kiri and Lo’ak were having or Spider, never you. You don’t know what you’re doing, you don’t know anything about actually being in the forest or talking to people. Lo’ak and Spider did most of the talking, it was easy to listen and occasionally egg them on.

Neteyam, he didn’t speak. Silence around him was deafening, it wasn’t the kind of silence you could have with Kiri or your dads, it suffocated you, so you talked. You talked to fill the space but you don't know how to talk! You’ve made it this far but the lump forming in your throat makes you think you’re going to throw up before you can carry on the conversation.

He stares at you for a moment “Why else would I be teaching you?” The statement strikes you.

You stare blankly at the ground beneath you, trying to decipher his words, trying to decipher how you feel about them.

Before you can decide, he stands up and nods for you to do the same.

“Lead us home”

A moment passes

“... huh?”

He gestures to the direction you came from “Lead us home, we are not that far out.” Slowly you tilt your head, staring out into the deep forest before looking back to him.

“You’re serious?” It comes out quieter than you mean, nervous. He nods.

“I am here, we will not get lost” He steps out of the way and reaches for your upper arms, nudging you closer “I trust you were paying attention?”

You nod, you were definitely paying attention, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of what’s around you, but you’re nowhere near confident enough to lead yourself back home. Going alone far into the woods yesterday was simply a one-off situation, excitement completely taking over your sense of logic.

Another beat passes and you don't make any move to start leading you both home. You look down to the floor, much more interested in the flowing grass than the multiple different looks Neteyam could be giving you. Nervously you wring your hands and bite your lip.

Neteyam watches you for a moment before sighing. You were making so much progress, the park he saw in you yesterday came out, only for a moment before retreating back, and he was faced with the nervous girl that seemingly only came out when he did something.

Maybe he was pushing you too far, but he wanted to get this over with. He doesn’t know what to think of you and he doesn’t want to. You’re a human, a dreamwalker that just so happened to be interested enough in Pandora to catch Eywa and his grandmother's eye.

His father was once in your place but that was different, not only was he Toruk Makto, but he made a choice to join the Na’vi and stay on Pandora. He had an entire life back on earth, everything he ever knew, and he gave it up to protect and learn from the people. You don’t have much of a choice, yeah you could choose to stay in the lab, reject his grandmother’s offer to learn, but why would you? There’s nothing else for you. He doesn’t doubt Eywa’s judgment, but he wonders if it would be the same if the choices weren’t so… definite.

“Fine, but tomorrow you will learn.”

You’re exhausted when you get back to the village, you pull up enough energy to entertain Tuk, listen to her story about her day. Your voice is quiet but smooth when you respond, she nuzzles closer to you everytime you speak, seemingly making her sleepy.

Kiri and Lo’ak sit around you asking about your training, you honestly don’t want to talk about it but you don’t want to give them the wrong idea, so you give them vague and brief answers. It doesn’t take them long to pick up the vibe and change the subject, at least it doesn’t take Kiri long, Lo’ak needed more of a harsh nudge to his side from his sister when he asked a probing question to get the memo.

As soon as you eat, you go back to your hammock tent to sleep, waking up in the pod almost immediately.

The headache you get is splitting, a hissed groan escaping your dry throat. Norm is at your side with a glass of water “Hey kid, you came out at just the right time, dinner is about ready” He places a hand on the back of your head as you take the glass and gulp down the water as fast as you can.

He helps you over to the table where Max sits across from you and slides a screen over. You look over it but only look back up at him confused.

“I thought we could open the Avatar program back up, a little un-officially but you’re the youngest Avatar driver in action, and the only one trained by the Omaticaya, after Jake.” He explains, pulling the screen back and replacing it with a food tray. Carefully you scoop a piece of food into your mouth.

“You’ve watched enough logs for me to not have to explain them” a smile creeps onto both your mouths. Look down to your food and think.

“Why?” you finish chewing the food in your mouth and swallow before continuing “I mean the research wouldn’t exactly benefit us, it’s not like we have any inexperienced drivers or scientists readily available to test something new”

He chuckles, shaking his head “Kid, if we wanted successful research that would ‘benefit’ us, we wouldn’t have become ‘rogue humans’ and stayed on a planet that doesn’t want science at all.” You look down at your food and consider his words.

And with that, the Avatar program opened again. After eating dinner you sit down in front of the video camera and talk about your experience.

It was therapeutic, especially when you did them late at night when you were completely alone. You talked about how weird it was to be in a new body, a healthy one. Being able to walk and run, feel the forest floor and see the forest.

Talking about Neteyam’s lesson was more or less something you wanted to avoid. You were embarrassed but you also didn’t know how to talk about Neteyam. You had this preconceived notion of him, you didn’t take it to heart but it was still your only knowledge of him. You couldn’t decide if it was right or not, you couldn’t decide how you feel about him.

You didn’t get to talk to Spider much, being busy with the log and then falling asleep almost immediately. You didn’t get much time at breakfast, waking up late because you spent so much time recording your log. So when Spider was out the door, your link pod was closing and you were in the jungle, laying in your hammock as the slimmer of sunlight creeps into your tent.

You’re not so tired anymore, the perks of being an Avatar you guess. You don’t hesitate this time, leaving your hammock and joining the bustle of the village with as much confidence as you can muster.

“Tuk! Don’t go so fast! Mom wants you with her for breakfast!” You hear Kiri yell, before you can really process anything, a small figure is slamming into your legs, almost knocking you over.

“Y/n! Y/n!” She grabs both your hands in hers and starts jumping up and down, she’s way to energetic for this early in the morning. A fond smile creeps onto your lips and you reach down, scooping her into your arms and bringing her close for a hug.

“Oh tuk tuk tuk..” You murmur her name as she wraps her arms around you neck, her hands fiddling with your loose and messy hair. You smile as Kiri jogs up to both of you, smiling and reaching over to place a hand on Tuk’s back.

“Tuk you cannot run off like that!” Kiri scolds as calmly as she can, you chuckle as Tuk just whips her head around with a quick “Sorry Kiri!” before turning back to your hair, mumbling something about the beads she wanted to braid into it.

You offer her a smile “Good morning Kiri” you giggle, she stares at Tuk for a moment before turning her attention to you.

“Good morning Y/n, more training today?” She asks, Lo’ak walking up next to her, raising his brows to say he’s wondering the same thing.

You nod, smiling as Lo’ak rolls his eyes. “God you’re gonna have such a stick up your ass by the time Neteyam is done with you” You gasp as Kiri punches his shoulder, both of you gesturing to a now confused and curious Tuk.

She looks at you wide eyes, humming a confused noise before you tell her nothing was wrong, she shrugs and goes back to the loose braids she was making with the underside of your hair. You glare at Lo’ak as he puts his hands up and laughs. “Point proven” He mumbles out, being met with another sharp punch to his shoulder.

“Well i’m glad you finally met Neteyam, making up for all the years you hung out with us but never him huh?” Kiri nudges your arm, wriggling her eyebrows. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“If i’m gonna learn the ways of the people then i’m going to be spending a lot of time with him.” You state with a sign, you roll your eyes as Kiri and Lo’ak both chuckle, making comments about your ‘soon to be closeness’ with their brother.

Tuk pulls back for a second, a wide and curious smile on her face. “Y/n!” she whisper yells, you turn your head so your ear is facing her, playing along with her childish habits. She giggles before leaning in and ‘whispering’ even louder “Do you have a crush on Neteyam!?”

Her question catches you off guard, making you freeze, a slight blush heating your cheeks. Kiri and Lo’ak, who both unintentionally leaned in to hear Tuk, burst out laughing. Lo’ak with his full chest, doubling over, over dramatic laugh he always does. Kiri, in contrast, throws her head back and stifles her laugh a bit by covering her mouth with her hand.

You send the two siblings a quick glare before looking back to Tuk. “No no Tuk, he’s just teaching me” you’re quick to clarify, flustered by her question.

She giggles “But if you diiiiid, then you could be my sister!” she exclaims, patting your shoulders excitedly. Kiri and Lo’ak look to you, you widen your eyes as if to ask how on earth such a young child knew all this?

Kiri raises a brow to Lo’ak who shakes his head and mouths “it wasn’t me”

You shake your head and look down to Tuk. She’s a persistent girl, she latches onto an idea and rarely ever gives it up, her easily distracted demeanor misleading you to think she’d forget, only for her to bring it up with as much determination months later.

You think for a moment before nuzzling your head into her cheek making her giggle. “Oh but Tuk-Tuk I love you so much already!” You glance up to Kiri who steps forward and places her hand on Tuk’s head.

“Yeah Tuk, Y/n doesn’t need to mate with our brother to be your sister” Kiri explains, Tuk looks back to her and thinks for a moment before smiling and turning her head back to you, nodding vigorously. Kiri leans into your ear and whispers “Nice save”

You give her a smile and lean closer to her “You too” you say under your breath. Lo’ak appears from behind you both, throwing his arms over both your shoulders, wedging himself between you and the older sister.

“Besides, Tuk, if Y/n were to mate with anyone it would be me!” He states proudly, shooting you a sly grin. Before you can react, he’s looking over his shoulder and calling out to someone behind you. “Isn’t that right Neteyam?”

You can feel your body freeze, you feel your blood run cold as you turn your whole body, Lo’ak briefly taking his arm off you to turn with you, placing his arm across your shoulders again and leaning against you more.

Neteyam stands, several feet away, carrying several logs of wood, a confused look on his face. “What?” he asks, looking between you and his siblings. You can hear Kiri angrily asking Lo’ak ‘what the fuck is wrong with him’

Lo’ak grins at you before looking back to Neteyam “If me and Y/n mated then she and Tuk could be sisters!” His voice is loud in your ear, his hand reaching up from next to you head to pinch your cheek. Lo’ak’s always had a bit of a flirty personality, it was a joke between the two of you to flirt sometimes, always acting out dramatic scenarios as a kid, but it’s been a while since he showed any form of interest outside of his usual flirt.

Neteyam looks between the two of you, Lo’ak is smirking like an asshole, tilting his head back in the defiant way he started doing the past few years. Tuk is looking at him bright eyed and shaking her head up and down, her intentions much more innocent than her brothers, genuinely excited at the idea of the girl she’s been so fond of being apart of the family.

Kiri seems to share his confusion, looking at their brother with an annoyed and baffled look. She turns her attention to him, shaking her head, the scene resembled the almost everyday occurrences when they were kids. Kiri compliant with Lo’ak’s antics while avoiding being an enabler and encouraging Neteyam to let it go. Neteyam and Lo’ak at a standstill, except this time its different, it’s no longer about Lo’ak unable to hold back from his adventurous personality and Neteyam only wanting the best for him.

The air between You and Neteyam as he makes eye contact with you is thick. This situation mirrors the game they’ve been playing their whole lives except you are here.

“Yeah” his voice is flat. You stand there awkwardly, eyes following his retreating figure. Lo’ak cackles and Kiri scolds him more loudly.

“C’mon it was funny! And I didn’t do anything wrong!” You hear Lo’ak defending himself from Kiri, reasoning it’s not a big deal and Neteyam could take a joke. “C’mon Y/n, stop pouting like that, It wouldn’t be that bad if we mated”

You finally pull your eyes off of Neteyam, who was now sitting in front of the fire, meeting Lo’ak’s grinning face. This is the boy you’ve known almost all your life, the one who’d stay in your room for hours on end despite how cramped it was for him. It’s Lo’ak.

You smile lamely “What is that Kiri says?” You raise your eyebrows, Kiri stepping closer and flicking Lo’ak’s forehead. “I would drink acid” you articulate, leaning into his face, grinning. He rolls his eyes and laughs, pushing you back by your shoulder.

You were focused on recovering from the situation that you failed to notice Neteyams eyes on you.

More drama and romance is to come! been a little busy but i've def got some ideas lol

#avatar #avatar: the way of water #avatar twow #avatar 2 #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader #protective neteyam #spider socorro #angst #fluff #x reader #reader insert #writer #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you

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tealclover · 3 months

Text

This Way Out

So, Tails slipped up. Not only did he manage to get himself snagged, but he dragged Belle into this with him. To make matters worse, Starline was unbearably smug about the whole thing. Yeah, yeah, he got the Sonic the Hedgehog’s sidekick. Whoop-de-friggin-doo.

Just when Tails was starting to prove himself again. Ugh. How embarrassing.

Well, enough of that. He promised Sonic he’d be fine, and he intended to keep his word. All he had to do was find a way to get Belle and himself out safely. … But who exactly were those two Mobians hanging around the facility?

(Alternate ending to Sonic IDW Issue #36, featuring a snarky fox. Some angst, some crack.)

Even before fully regaining consciousness, Tails knew he was in for a headache. And not just literally, though the pulsing in his temple was certainly noteworthy.

For starters, before even opening his eyes, he was lying stiffly on his back of all places. Tails never slept on his back if he could help it – his namesakes made resting much more reasonable on his side or belly. Sleeping on his tails was both uncomfortable and impractical. Impractical because it left his belly and other more vulnerable parts exposed. Uncomfortable due to the cold and the fact that his namesakes trapped underneath him, occasionally numb from lack of bloodflow. Which they were. But so were his arms and his legs, and, oh, he couldn’t move at all actually.

It was probably too much to hope that that beeping indicated that he’d spent the last fifteen hours on a stone-hard hospital bed, seeing how his last waking recollection involved him and Belle separating, tons of snow, and…

Starline. Who wanted to kidnap him. For supposedly scientific purposes.

Ugh.

With no small amount of trepidation, the fox bleerily opened his eyes. He was immediately rewarded for his efforts with too much light why couldn’t he live like the nocturnal creatures foxes were meant to be and a sinister chuckle that grated on his nerves.

“Ah, Young Master Prower. I see you are awake.”

Yup. And he wished he wasn’t.

“Starline.” Oof. Voice crack. That wasn’t doing his credibility any favors. How long had he been out? He coughed, trying to get his voice back before roughly continuing: “I hope you’ve got a five star meal on the way; otherwise I’m going to have to give this stay a poor review. Don’t tell me this is a hospital bed,” he grimaced at the surface he was strapped to, arms, tails, and all. He was trapped for the time being, but appeared to be intact, at least. If the bindings were ignored, he could have passed for a patient – the presence of the finger pulse oximeter amongst other diagnostic tools were certainly intriguing, if not concerning. Were those vials of blood his? “Or do. Cause I’m not sure there’s much I can do for you if you think it’s acceptable to let your guests sleep on tables.”

The platypus stared at him for a few seconds, like he hadn’t expected the witty response. It was actually kind of funny to watch him visibly reboot and reassess the fox. Finally, he sighed. “I suppose you were raised by Sonic. It makes sense that you would share his poor taste in humor.”

“It clearly beats your taste in decor,” Tails sniped back. Starline hummed at that.

“Public perception of you paints you to be a polite boy genius. It seems that isn’t entirely true.”

Tails shrugged. Or tried to, anyway. “The general population wouldn’t consider strapping me to an examination table. Care to explain that, by the way?”

Starline smiled a sweet-sick smile. “Oh, you’re curious, are you? To be quite frank, I want to see if you can find out. Why don’t you and Miss Belle take a moment to catch up?”

Tails froze. “Belle?”

“I'm here, Tails…” the voice came from his left. He peered over as far as he could to see the robotic marionette on a second table a short distance away. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but from what he could see of her… she looked distraught. Not fearful, necessarily, but despairing, which was somehow even more worrisome.

“Belle, are you okay?” He asked gently. She sniffled, ducking her head into her chest as best as she could. Were those… tear tracks on her cheeks? She could cry? Why was she crying? He took a second to shoot a gleeful Starline a sharp glare before refocusing on his newest companion. “Belle, are you hurt?”

“... No,” she whispered.

Tails didn’t know if he believed that, but he didn’t know how to press the issue with the correct amount of sensitivity, especially with Starline hovering over them. What a creep. Couldn’t he leave? “Okay… okay. It’s going to be alright, I promise.” He waited for Belle’s tiny nod before continuing. “How long have you been active?”

“About… twenty minutes. I’ve been offline s-since the avalanche. I… I’m sorry, Tails. You came back for me and now-”

“I’m not worried about that, Belle,” he told her, firmly but not unkindly. “We’ll figure it out. Can you tell me what you remember?”

“I…” She made a strangled sound, but forced herself to continue. “My d-d… my creator was Mr. Tinker.” Tails gut sank. He wasn’t surprised, not with their matching attire, but it was still a sad confirmation to hear. “That… that jerk figured it out. He, he told me-” she hiccuped again. “It’s his fault Mr. Tinker is gone. He changed him into Eggman.”

“... I’m sorry, Belle.” What could he say to that? This wasn’t something he could fix with a wrench and a bit of mechanical know-how. Belle was a robot, but her feelings were hardly artificial. After Emerl, Gamma, and their successors, Tails was very well aware of that. She was just as much of a person as anyone organic; something that was clear to him from the moment they met. He couldn’t just reprogram her to feel better. Or, well, maybe he could, but that wouldn’t be right. To do so would likely be robbing her memories and cheapening her experiences, changing who she was in the process. It wouldn’t truly fix anything; frankly, it would likely lead to an identity crisis later on.

And so, all he had to offer her was kindness, and time to recover once they escaped.

“I… don’t know how to help with Mr. Tinker, but my friends and I would be happy to have you, if you want. I have space for you back at my workshop, and the Restoration accepts anyone who wants to to have a part of it. If you want a home, we’ll give you one. We can try to figure out the rest in time.”

Belle was quiet. Finally, she tearfully confessed, “That would be nice.”

He offered her a smile even though she still wasn’t looking. “I’m glad you think so. We’ll do our best to make it worth your while.” He hesitantly continued. “Did Starline do anything else?”

She shook her head. “He just… listened to me talk a-about Dad. About home, Windmill Village, and how the villagers kicked me out after the Metal Virus cleared up. I got so mad, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He doesn’t care at all about what he did. He only wanted the code.”

“Code…?” At that, Tails shot another glance in their captor’s direction, though the platypus had since turned his attention to the monitor at Tails’ side, turned so that the fox couldn’t read any of the details. Were Belle’s readings stashed away in that device? … No. At least, it wasn’t just her information. Starline was gathering his vitals as well. But why? From the sounds of things, he was trying to get a reaction out of Belle earlier, and now, he was… testing Tails? Did he truly want him to uncover the motivations behind their kidnappings or was he simply fishing for another set of reactions from a different subject? He wouldn’t put it past Starline to have something of a sadistic streak – most villains lately did – but not one without purpose. If that was all he did, there had to have been some sort of incentive, something to be gained…

Why him? Why Belle? Her thoughts and feelings, and his-

Was he trying to record them both?

Was Starline in his head right now?

A delighted laugh at his side told him that yes, he probably was.

“Positively remarkable, young Master Prower! You are truly one of a kind.” The platypus’ hands clapped together. “It is no wonder Sonic has prevailed for so long! He is powerful on his own, but you, you can keep pace with him, you adapt to his spontaneity and can plan in the heat of the moment so that he is successful in his every endeavor, no matter how foolish or impossible. It is little wonder that the two of you alone keep Doctor Eggman on his toes, despite his armies, his keen intellect, and his prowess…” He stood to approach Tails again, looking down upon him with glee. “You truly are the greatest of combinations.”

That would have been a heart-warming compliment, had it not come from the mouth of a madman. As it stood, the fox had to resist the urge to squirm under that predatory gaze. He would not give Belle another reason to be afraid.

“And, in spite of knowing all of that,” Tails mildly remarked, “you brought me straight to your base.”

Starline was likely to overestimate himself. In his eyes, he had a useful enemy at his mercy. He was less likely to seriously consider the fact that, in the process, he had invited that very foe into his base, to say nothing of the others that would come knocking down his door later.

… Let him read those thoughts.

“Is that a threat?” The doctor mockingly inquired, unfazed and clearly quite confident. “You hardly have the advantage, fox.”

“I've gotten out of stickier situations.” This wasn't even the first time somebody thought to make a labrat of him, his first encounter with the Deadly Six coming to mind. … Hopefully, this wasn't going to become a trend.

“Perhaps, but I've taken precautions. Escape won't come easily for you.” The villain adjusted his glove with a self-assured smirk. “You are now quite the valuable asset to my plans.”

“Which are…?” Tails pressed, earning him a condescending pat on the head that made his skin crawl.

“All in due time, little specimen. As it stands, I've already shared too much with you, and I really must get back to work. You have such fascinating insights; it’s a pity we won’t be discussing this further, seeing how you will have no recollection of this conversation,” he coolly lamented, hand shifting from his bangs to his eyes.

“Now, it is time for you to go back to sleep.”

So... yup! Here's a glimpse of a brainworm I've had for a little while regarding Issue #36. It's a little rough and is absolutely a WIP (the end is particularly prone to change), but I felt like sharing a bit of it! Hope whoever finds it likes it! :)

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #miles tails prower #tails the fox #sonic idw #starline #starline the platypus #dr starline #belle the tinkerer #sonic idw issue 36 #fun to write! but also this is not a comfortable situation for anyone here haha #sonic fanfiction #fanfiction #wip

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

For Your Family

Here I come for a new request for my Comeback Event! This was an anon request for Sirius Black : “Hi! :)) can I request, please? Sirius Black+ Soulmates AU + Arranged marriage

It'd nice if reader's house is Slytherin (if not it's totally ok) Thank you so much lovely! 💚”

Thank you so much for your request, anon! I wasn’t so sure how to include an arranged marriage in the Marauders world, I hope you won’t be disappointed in the choice I’ve made to explain why the two had to get married. I’m not a huge fan of the whole pureblood thingy that’s quite commonly used… so I’ve tried to find another way.

I hope you like what I’ve written for your request!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: set during the First Wizarding War, mentions of trauma, violence, and some sacrifices to be made to protect one’s loved ones. No actual depiction of violence, though. A make out session, but nothing explicit (still no nsfw here).

Summary: Your fight against Voldemort has gotten you into trouble, and now your family is at risk. Your only choice to protect your family is to separate yourself from them, and what better way to do that than to marry Sirius Black? After all, your families hate each other. But in a world of soulmates, faking a marriage is even more complicated.

Word Count: 5233

It’s funny how a life can be turned upside-down all of a sudden.

A matter of minutes, and everything stops, everything is destroyed, everything needs to be reinvented.

This is one of these moments. The moment when you lose everything that was familiar and need to reinvent yourself if you’re to survive. Weird feeling. Overwhelming. So overwhelming that you don’t really register the news when it falls on your shoulders. You don’t understand it. Or rather, you understand the words, your brain fathoms their meaning but the emotional connection is blocked. You’re numb more than devastated.

Strange.

“The only way to keep your family safe is to never go back. Show that you’ve detached yourself fully from them.”

“But they’re not on our side…”

“I know, but that doesn’t change anything. They’re not on His side either. Which means that He could still consider them a threat. Traitors. He could think that they are on our side too. Do you understand, Y/N?”

You stare at Moody and his strange magical eye, and nod. You understand. It’s logical thinking. You need to make sure that your family is out of any suspicion, or the Dark Lord will come for them. They’re already into hiding, but you need to make sure that everybody knows that your choice to fight in the Order doesn’t match their own fight. They are neutral in this war, and you don’t blame them. They don’t agree with Voldemort, they’re just scared.

You are too. Absolutely terrified. But what else can you do? You reckon that you won’t be able to live with yourself if you just hide with the rest of your family and do nothing.

“What can I do to show that there is no link between my family and myself anymore?” you ask Moody, dreading his answer.

But he shrugs.

“Building a family of your own could help. Show that you’ve moved on.”

By his side, Dumbledore is lost in thought. His electric blue eyes are fixed on a stain on the yellow wallpaper that covers all the rooms of your small hiding place.

You can’t go home anymore. It’s too dangerous. You’re trapped in this tiny apartment instead.

“I reckon that… Alastor is correct,” the old wizard suddenly breaks the heavy silence that had settled in the room. “You should build yourself a new family, or at least, fake it.”

“How do I do that?”

“I heard that your family hated the Blacks…”

“Rightly so.”

“But Sirius as well. Do they not?”

“Yes… they… they don’t like him. They don’t think he’s different from his family.”

“But we do know that he’s different, and Voldemort knows as well. Or at least, he is suspicious towards him.”

You slowly nod.

“He will soon have to go into hiding, right?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The Potters are already hiding, and I reckon he will soon have to do the same,” Dumbledore nods, before setting his magnetic eyes on yours, and some invisible strength seem to be forcing you to stare back, you find yourself unable to look away. “Actually… this could be the perfect excuse to convince Mr. Black to finally hide.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dumbledore takes a moment to look for the right words, but when he speaks again, his idea doesn’t seem less shocking to you, by any means.

“Your family would probably push you away if you were romantically involved with Mr. Black. So, I recommend that the two of you pretend to be a couple for a while. You could both go into hiding after your wedding.”

“A wedding?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. A wedding.”

Sirius stares at you with round eyes, expecting you to break out of character and confess that you’re only joking. Because all of this has to be a joke…

“What do you mean getting married. For real?”

“Dumbledore said that we needed to get all the paperwork done, to make it official. That way, my family will get mad, and will be loud about it. They’ll push me away. And they’ll be out of trouble.”

Sirius shakes his head.

“We… we barely know each other,” he argues. “I mean… we’ve worked together on a couple of missions, but that’s it. We don’t even know each other from Hogwarts, you being in Slytherin…”

“There’s no need to be mean about that,” you interrupt him, but he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that we didn’t talk to each other back then. We’ve spent… maybe five days together. We can’t get married. Besides… we’re not soulmates. You’re not my soulmate. Who could believe that?”

“Look… I know it’s a big thing to ask from you. It’s… it’s a huge favour to ask…”

“It’s not even a favour at this point…”

“But my family is in danger, and I have no other plan.”

Sirius falls silent, and you seize the occasion to continue.

“Please, Sirius. We need to get married. We need to do it for real. We need to get all the official papers. We need my family and yours to know about it, so they can both be vocal about how despicable we are. We need to go into hiding together. And then, my family will push me away, and they’ll be safe. And after the war, once everything is calmer again, we can get a divorce, and get back to our normal lives. But this is my only chance at protecting my family. Please, I’m begging you.”

“It’s not that simple. Why would we get divorced? If we get married in the first place, it’s because we’re going to pretend that we are soulmates, that we are meant for each other. What then? Have you ever heard of soulmates divorcing?”

“We’ll confess everything. We’ll say that we lied, that we’re not soulmates, and that it was all to protect my family. We’ll tell the truth, get a divorce. And you’ll be free to go looking for the real love of your life.”

Sirius stares at you, at your eyes now full of tears you’re struggling to withhold and…

How can he say no?

You’ll just get a divorce once everything is over. You… you’ll just pretend. He needs to get into hiding anyway, there isn’t a choice anymore. It’s too dangerous for him, and he knows it.

People simply don’t get that he doesn’t care about dying. He doesn’t reckon he’s worth all the trouble of hiding him, of taking risks for him. He’d rather be the one on the front line.

But here you are now, staring at him with this desperate, broken expression written all over your features, and he genuinely feels like he’s your only chance.

He didn’t get the chance to have a good family, but you do. He knows what it means though, to be happy, to be loved and cared for by your parents. The Potters showed him that. And if he had to marry a stranger to ensure that the Potters would be safe, he wouldn’t hesitate. So, why would you?

Slowly, he nods.

“Alright. What papers do I need to sign?”

You stare at the ring on your finger, and there’s a lump in your throat.

You’re married. To an almost-stranger.

In the kitchen, you hear Sirius emptying a box filled with plates and glasses and knives.

You’re into hiding. That’s it. It’s done.

You look out by the window. In this small cabin, you’re surrounded by a deep forest of pine trees. It’s summer. Flowers are scattered across the patch of grass before your cabin. It’s sunny outside still, a late afternoon still bathed by bright sunshine.

In your hand, you’re still holding your family’s letter. You haven’t opened it. You don’t want to. You don’t need to. You already know what’s inside, no need to actually read it and make the pain a thousand times worse.

The sounds from the kitchen wane but you don’t notice. You don’t notice either when Sirius enters the living room, standing before the sofa where you’re sitting. You’re staring at the bright sky instead. It’s blue and infinite and the same as yesterday.

Funny how the world remains the same no matter what happens in your life…

“Are you okay?”

You jump as Sirius’s deep voice suddenly fills up the room. But you nod, lying, and he knows you’re not being earnest.

“You haven’t read it, have you?” he asks, nodding towards the letter still resting on your laps.

You look up sheepishly at him, shaking your head. He heaves a sigh.

“Do you want me to read it for you?”

“I don’t want to know what it says,” you confess in a whisper.

“I’ll just tell you if the plan is working.”

You hesitate one last time. You look at the sealed envelope, turning it in between your fingers. At last, you hand it to him, without looking at him.

He’s silent as he reads it. He doesn’t say anything, keeps an unreadable expression. It lasts for a few minutes: him standing next to the couch, motionless; you sitting on the sofa, looking away. Silence is everywhere, heavy, filling up all the space around you and inside you as well, from your heart to your lungs…

Finally, Sirius clears his throat, folding the letter again and slipping it back into its envelope. At last, you look up at him again.

He offers you a kind smile.

“It worked. Everything is going as planned. No need to reply to their letter. We’re fine.”

You nod, giving him a grateful smile as he gives you back the note.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You’re not certain whether you feel relieved or devastated. Probably a little bit of both. Sirius recognizes this look on your face, he’s worn it often during his teenage years.

“What about a warm meal? I make some amazing pastas.”

“Really?”

“I do. Best of the entire Order!”

You can’t refrain a chuckle.

“How can I refuse such an offer?”

“You can’t.”

He notices that you’re staring at his left hand, and he shrugs as he answers to your silent question.

“We’re inside, it’s just us… no need to wear our wedding bands, I reckon.”

“Right…”

“I can wear it if it makes you feel better. But then… we have both agreed that this… is not real. Just… two colleagues hiding.”

“Two colleagues with the same name though,” you joke, a small smile playing on your lips. And it’s small and shy and barely there, but at least you’re not crying. That’s already a lot.

But you’re surprised when Sirius doesn’t laugh, or even smile. Instead, he sternly stares at you. You notice that he has clenched his jaw.

“One more proof that it isn’t real. I would never let my soulmate wear my name.”

“Really? Why?”

The muscles along his jaw jump. You see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to swallow. His stare is so intense, you can’t look away from his grey eyes.

“It’s a shitty name. A shitty family. I won’t let the person I’ll love my entire life suffer because of it the way I did. The way I still do.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer, and strides out of the room, going back into the kitchen. You remain sitting there, puzzled, for a few minutes. And when you finally get up to help him cook an early dinner, you haven’t taken off your wedding ring. It still sits there, around your finger.

You expected life with Sirius to be less pleasurable as it turns out to be.

He’s quite fun to be around. Quite charming as well. A shame he’s not your soulmate.

After all, you’ve always believed that you would know at first sight. Whoever your soulmate can be, you’re certain that you will recognize them in an instant. Love at first sight. No need to check any birthmarks, you’ll know. When you see them, you’ll know.

It doesn’t mean that Sirius has no effect on you, because he does. He’s charming, and attractive, and sweet behind his cold behaviour. You almost feel guilty for enjoying this time spent with Sirius. After all, your friends are risking their lives out there, but what can you do? It drives you mad to stay here, but you can see that Sirius feels even worse. He’s pacing most of the time these days. It’s been three weeks, and he’s like a wolf in a cage.

It's late now. Stars shining outside, above the canopy of pine trees that surround your house. There’s a full moon out there, Sirius is worried, even more than usual. You guess he’s thinking about Remus. That’s probably why he’s sitting in the little alcove around the window, his temple resting against the cool windowpane.

“You must be missing them.”

He turns to you with a small frown across his brow. There’s a pale light coming in from the moon, shining over one side of his features, while the rest of his face is coloured by the warm glow coming from the candles alit throughout the room and the fire burning in the hearth. He’s attached his hair in a messy bun, like he often does, and you can’t help the thought that forms in your mind. You like it when he wears his hair like that.

He looks handsome, and you wish you didn’t find him so attractive. Because he’s not your soulmate, you must remember that.

“Who are you talking about?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side a little in a questioning stance.

“Your friends. Your family.”

He snorts loudly.

“My friends, sure. My family, not at all.”

“I meant… the Potters.”

He falls silent again for a moment, before slowly nodding. When he speaks up again, his voice is deeper than usual, it has dropped down by an octave. The sound warms your soul and makes you shiver at the same time. Your heart beats faster all of a sudden.

“Yeah… yeah, I miss them quite a lot.”

“Remus must be having a rough night,” you add, nodding towards the moon.

“Yep. I’m worried about him. I hope he’s okay, wherever he is.”

He looks at you for a while longer, before speaking again.

“How are you feeling about all this?”

“All this?”

“Your family, I mean.”

You shrug. What else can you say? Sirius merely nods, and you truly believe that he understands your simple gesture.

“I’d rather be out there, though,” he goes on, and you can’t refrain a chuckle.

“I had noticed. You’re pacing so much these days, we’ll soon have holes in the carpet.”

It’s his time to chuckle, and you welcome the warm sound.

“Yeah, well… I’m not the type to simply… sit back and see how it turns out.”

“Hmm… it was already the case in Hogwarts, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, you can put it like that,” Sirius laughs.

You realize it’s the first time you hear that sound today. You reckon that’s a shame.

“You turned my hair purple once,” you go on, welcoming a more light-hearted conversation.

“Did I?” Sirius asks, laughing even more. “I don’t remember that.”

“Third year.”

He looks through his memories, but can’t recall the exact prank.

“I cursed your sorry arse so hard you stayed in the Hospital Wing for two weeks,” you add, and this time, Sirius’s face lightens with recognition.

“Oh! Yes! I remember that! It was totally worth it, the face you pulled!”

You’re both laughing wholeheartedly now, and it feels good. It feels nice to just relax, to forget about what is going on outside for a little while. You know this is ephemeral. It will be gone with the breaking of dawn, you have no doubts about it. Still… it’s nice. You bathe in that warm feeling, in the sound of his bark-like laughter, the sight of his eyes watering with joy. It’s a rare sight to see. You’re glad to witness it.

And as he looks at you again, sees you holding your stomach because of your loud laughter, your hair dishevelled and your clothes a little messy… he likes it. That sight. You looking comfortable and happy, almost as if the world wasn’t ending. It feels right. It almost feels like he’s meant to see you this way. He doesn’t quite know what to do with this feeling, but he welcomes it all the same.

“You know… it’s not so bad to be trapped here with you,” Sirius says as you both calm down.

He rests his back against the curve of the alcove again, letting one of his legs hang by the wall, while the other is bent, knee resting against the windowpane. He’s staring at you with his grey eyes burning from the light of the hearth, a crooked smile on his lips.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Yeah?” you ask back, a little too short of breath under his intense stare to gather enough strength to say anything more.

“I mean… It still sucks to be stuck in this cabin, don’t get me wrong. But I… I was quite… concerned about us living under the same roof. And I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Me too, actually. You’re not as insufferable as I thought you would be.”

“Good to hear…”

“I have to admit though that… this is not exactly how I had imagined my honeymoon…”

He laughs at your joke again, and you soon join him.

“Yeah… me neither.”

“I bet you’d like a long journey across the globe. Or on an exotic island somewhere…”

Sirius shrugs.

“I don’t know… that does sound fun. But… I reckon that something simpler would be nice too.”

“Really?”

“As long as they’re happy, I wouldn’t care.”

He frowns as your smile changes from amused to tender.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “I just… You’re surprising, that’s all.”

“In a good way?”

“Yeah, in a good way.”

You exchange a smile, and Sirius takes a deep breath before asking his next question. His heart beats faster all of a sudden, he doesn’t dare look for an explanation for the frantic rhythm.

“Have you been looking for them, by the way? Your soulmate, I mean.”

“No, not really. What’s the point in a world like that? It would just… make it harder for me to focus on what needs to be done and… it would only be one more person to protect.”

“One more way to get hurt…”

“Exactly. Wrong timing. I’ll think about them once the war is over.”

“I like your confidence. The way you seem certain that you’ll survive all this.”

“What’s the point in thinking the contrary? It won’t help.”

“No… no, I guess you’re right.”

“What about you? Have you looked for them?” you ask him, and you don’t miss the way he tenses up. You regret questioning him about something so personal, but he answers anyway.

“No, I haven’t. Because of the war as well, of course. But also because… my family… it’s complicated. I’m just getting back on my feet after… all that happened with them. I’m finally feeling better. I don’t want to find them too soon, when I’m still recovering from all this. I don’t want them to be disappointed.”

He looks away in a hurry, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a series of tattoos colouring the pale skin of his forearms. He digs into the back pocket of his jeans to get a cigarette. He lights it up without his wand, nor a sound. You can’t help but smile. Sirius is an impressive wizard, a shame his family never told him so.

“I don’t think they would be disappointed though,” you answer so earnestly, Sirius has to look up at you again.

He blows a cloud of smoke before speaking once more, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

“Yeah, sure… traumatised guys are amazing partners to build a life xith, you didn’t know that?”

“I’m just saying that… if someone loves you, they will want to help.”

Sirius remains silent for a moment, taking another drag off his cigarette.

“I don’t know, I just… you’re talking about your soulmate,” you go on. “They should be there for you, no matter what happens.”

“I don’t want to burden them with all this.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because I don’t think they’ll be able to love me if I do.”

He lets out a wry laugh.

“The boys keep on telling me that… it’s all bullshit, they agree with you. But I don’t feel like that. I think… I don’t want to be a burden, that’s all.”

“You’re not a burden, Sirius.”

“Not to you, I’m not. You’re the one to owe me one!”

“True,” you smile at him, and he copies your gestures.

He blows one more cloud of smoke, and he seems to be relaxing again.

“Well… for all that’s worth… and it should count for something, as I am legally your wife… I wouldn’t be disappointed if you were my soulmate.”

Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“No, I wouldn’t be,” you repeat, still serious, and you see him blushing a bit, but he doesn’t look away. “You’re a good man. Annoying but… good.”

He chuckles at that, but the smile that lingers on his lips is grateful, and you’re not fooled.

“Well, for what it’s worth… and it should count for something, as I am legally your husband,” he adds with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and yet you can see that he’s earnest, that he means the words he speaks out loud now. “I wouldn’t be disappointed either if you were my soulmate. Actually… I’d love that.”

You’re certain that your heart is going to explode by now…

And you hate yourself for being so happy to hear these words. You can’t imagine that Sirius is your soulmate. And yet… yet you realize now that you really, really want to kiss him…

You wonder what his lips would feel like upon yours. He would probably taste like cigarettes if he were to kiss you now…

You push the thought away, but it’s hard to do so when Sirius suddenly stands up and stares at you with such an intensity, he seems to be trying to read through your very soul…

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think you’re my soulmate.”

You quirk an eyebrow, half-amused.

“Okay…”

“No, I mean…” Sirius closes his eyes, trying to find the right words to express what he means.

He silently curses himself for being this clumsy. He takes one last drag off his cigarette and throws it in an ashtray, set on the coffee table before the sofa where you’re sitting now.

“I meant to say that… I haven’t felt instantly… pulled towards you, or anything of the kind. So, I assume that you’re not my soulmate.”

“I didn’t feel like that either,” you reassure him.

“And yet… I have to admit that… I like you. I… genuinely like you.”

You stare at each other for a moment, and he has to force himself to breathe when your lips part slightly in shock, because he wonders what they would feel like upon his and…

“So… I was thinking… would that be completely crazy if I asked you on a date?”

You stare at him in silence for a while longer, and Sirius starts to think that he’s ruined everything, when you suddenly start laughing.

“Sorry, I just…” you struggle to speak despite your laughter. “You… you’re asking me on a date when we are already married.”

Sirius chuckles as well, and a crooked smile lingers on his lips.

“Well… we’re legally married but… for the rest…”

“Yeah, not for the rest.”

“I’m not going to pretend that it would be forever, you and I,” Sirius goes on. “But I like you, a lot. I really do. And we’re stuck here, and we… are probably going to die. Sorry to bring down your everlasting optimism but…”

“Is the fact that you might be the last man I see truly the best argument you can come up with?” you joke, but Sirius blushes uncontrollably.

“No… I mean…”

He closes his eyes tightly again, buries his hands in his pockets, and takes a deep breath before diving.

“I like you. I’m attracted to you. I think that I could love you. That I… I’m already falling for you, if I’m to be fully honest. So… even if it’s not meant to be for a lifetime, as we have no idea how long we have left… I think it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea if we gave this a try. What do you think?”

You smile up at him.

“Well, I wonder what kind of date you could come up with as we are stuck here in this cabin…”

“Dinner? My famous pastas?”

You laugh, shaking your head, and it’s your turn to stand.

You have no idea what is happening to you, why you’re so bold all of a sudden. Maybe it’s his messy bun, the ink on his skin, the warm light of the fireplace that compliments his features perfectly… you’re not sure, but what you know is that you are now walking to him, and that you don’t stop before being so close to his body that the two of you are almost touching.

“Well, as you said, we’re married. We’ve been living together for weeks now. Perhaps we could skip the date.”

A smug smile appears on his lips, and under any other circumstances, you would find this annoying, painfully so. But not now. Now, you can only stare at his grey eyes as you see his pupils dilating.

“You’re sure?” he asks, and despite his crooked smile, his voice is soft and earnest.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He raises his hand to brush his fingertips across your cheek, sending shivers down your spine and leaving your skin burning behind his feathery touch.

“If we do this, there will be no turning back. Are you sure?” he asks once more, and you notice the way his breathing has quickened.

“Are you sure?” you ask back.

“If I’m to be honest… I’ve been wanting this for a while now.”

“Me too.”

“So… you’re not going to curse me if I kiss you now, right?” he jokes, successfully making you laugh.

“No, Sirius. I won’t curse you. I might kiss you again, though. You’ve been warned.”

“Dully noted. But if you do that, I might want to do a little bit more than just kissing you. You’ve been warned.”

“That’s precisely what I had in mind.”

He grins at you, his hand moving to cup your face.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N.”

Before you can speak again, he has leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Suddenly, he’s cradling your face in both his hands, and deepening the kiss, and you’re losing your fingers in his hair, destroying his messy bun.

And Merlin, you’re certain your body is going to combust, and your heart explode…

Meanwhile, Sirius reckons that he has found heaven on Earth…

How long do you spend kissing each other like this, standing by the fireplace? You’re not sure. Hard to tell. A long while, you reckon.

You let Sirius’s lips move down to drop soft pecks along your jawline, and further down to attach themselves to your neck. And while you can barely breathe at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, of his open-mouthed kisses running across the side of your neck, of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin from time to time, your hands slip down the length of his back before reaching for his chest. You undo one of the buttons of his shirt, then another, then another, your fingers brushing his warm skin as they travelled upwards to undo yet another button of Sirius’s black shirt, and you feel him gasping against your skin under your trembling touch. He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer, and you can’t refrain a moan when he gently bites that soft spot at the base of your neck, right when the shoulder begins.

You push the piece of clothing off his shoulders, letting your hands rest on his neck to pull his face away from you, detaching his swollen lips from your skin just long enough for you to look at him, to the tattoos scattered across his torso and his arms, to look down and take in the sight of his chest and…

Your eyes grow round when they land on his waist. Sirius tries to slow down his heart as you stare at the birthmark that lays there, on his skin. Two circles intertwined. He frowns as you remain frozen, motionless, merely staring at him.

“You’re okay?” he asks, worried now.

But you look up at him with an aghast look painted all over your features, and before he can ask anything, you pull up your t-shirt, just enough to reveal the two white circles that adorn your waist…

It’s Sirius’s time to stare. He reaches to run his fingers on the shapes carved into your skin, but there’s no doubt possible.

Same shape, same colour, same placement, same size…

When your gazes meet again, you both seem equally shocked.

“Does that… does that mean…?”

But Sirius doesn’t have the strength to finish his question. So, he merely stares at you with his grey eyes filled with fear and questions, and you merely nod in response.

“We… we’re… you’re…” he tries to speak, but can’t.

You’re the first to break into a bright grin, and your eyes are suddenly filled with tears.

“I’m glad it’s you,” you let out in a breath. “I’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

Sirius smiles as well, and he throws back his head in an attempt to control the rush of emotions that washes over him.

It’s you. You’re his soulmate. He’s found you…

“And I just said that I didn’t want to meet my soulmate,” he laughs.

“Terrible timing, I have to agree,” you chuckle.

He looks down at you again, holding your face in his hands again, and his smile is filled with withheld tears. When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, a little broken.

“Well… I guess it solves our issue with the divorce, huh?”

You can’t help but explode with laughter, and he does the same.

“Yeah, I guess… I guess this marriage is going to last a little more than a few months, after all…”

“Maybe I should start wearing that damn ring…”

“Could be a good idea.”

Sirius rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, enjoying the way your breath fans over his lips…

“I’m glad too, you know?” he whispers. “I’m glad it’s you. I wanted it to be you. I wanted you to be my soulmate. Please… don’t be too disappointed that I’m yours…”

But you laugh his remark away, wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer to you.

“I’m not disappointed in the slightest, Sirius. But…”

“But?”

“But I would truly appreciate it if we could resume our former activity now.”

Sirius lets out a loud laugh, that sounds strangely like a bark, and you love this sound… It’s infectious, it brings a smile to your lips.

“That can be arranged…”

And before you can add another witty remark, he’s captured your mouth with his.

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

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azsazz · 1 year

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Cupid’s Chokehold (Part 7)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it’s a little hard to explain what you’re trying to do.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,811

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Notes: The finale 😭 Please enjoy 💙

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It’s that revelation that makes him rethink everything.

Had he really been do dumb as to not notice what was happening between the two of you? The cheeky banter between the two of you, you getting on his nerves and him getting on yours. The almost kiss you’d shared when he had been cleaning your wound. The wound he had a hand in giving you. The heightened emotions he felt when it had anything to do with you, Eris’ threats or Rhys’ scolding, he didn’t care about any of that as long as you were okay.

Or had you just made another general assumption about love?

Azriel could admit that your words were convincing, even if he didn’t fully believe in the entirety of what your species was doing. And seeing Eris agree, having a sour experience with your kind, had made the shadowsinger rethink everything you had said, for he would never admit that the Autumn Lordling was right in any way, shape, or form.

“Our arrows are conduits of attraction and affection. They form this sort of bond, once the two parties are struck. You call it a mate, I believe.”

“Fate has a funny way of working, shadowsinger, don’t you worry.”

“It symbolizes the parallels between warfare and romance. How love can be invincible.”

“Everything happens for a reason. If a couple aren’t meant to be but still share a bond, that is fate. If they are madly in love and something dares happen to one of them, that is fate. If they live happily ever after as mates, that is fate.”

And all this talk about fate…he couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone out there for him, made to be his opposite and equal in every way. Maybe he could ask you–

No. It doesn’t even matter anymore if there is someone out there for him because there’s you…

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

Right?

“It is she who lights the flame of love in the hearts of Gods and men,” Eris’ words ring in his head, “I’d watch out if I were you, shadowsinger.”

He’s gotten nowhere by the time he makes his way up to the training ring, an incessant buzzing beneath his skin as his mind whirled. His shoulders have been tense since he rose from his bed, and he stretches to try and ease some of the tension while he waits for you to arrive. His shadows swirl around him in a restless manner, much like his mind and stomach.

It was always like this when it has something to do with you.

Azriel filters it down to the fact that you’d be arriving any moment, the female he’d been trying to force out of his head all night, unable to sleep because he kept thinking of the exact color of your wings, how soft they’d felt when they’d brushed up against him in the Autumn Court, the color of your wide eyes and look of utter shock on your face when Eris had held a knife to your throat.

He’d thought of your eagerness to learn how to wield weapons other than a bow, one that he was still yet to see in action. Azriel’s cock had hardened almost to the point of pain when he’d imagined you standing tall with an arrow knocked, the bow arching perfectly like the curves of your body, the utter determination he’d see and that sparkle in your eye.

Love, he realizes.

You loved love.

And maybe it was just because you were born from it, a conduit in its rawest form. He’d wondered if you’d ever been in love before or had shared the act of it with anyone, and then his emotions spun from lust into wild jealousy, and he’d stayed that way, brewing until the first rays of light peeked through his windows.

His shadows alert him of your footsteps on the stairs and the tension melts slightly as he looks over. His heart picks up speed in his chest because he’s just waiting to see you, to see what style your hair is in or what clothes you don. Sometimes it was your armor or the clothes you’d come in, sometimes it was something more comfortable, and once it was in a pair of Nesta’s Illyrian leathers.

That had been his favorite.

But his shadows had failed to mention that you were with Cassian, and that’s whose head pops up over the railing first, and then you, trailing next to him and laughing your perfect laugh as his brother grins down at you.

He’d never been able to make that sound come out of you.

The tension returns to his shoulders and Azriel turns quickly, headed straight for the swords.

“Hey Az,” Cassian greets from across the ring.

Azriel ignores him and the warlord stops in his tracks. It takes you a few steps to notice that he’s no longer beside you. Casting a look over your shoulder, brows pulled together in confusion, you see Cassian staring at the shadowsinger who hadn’t yet turned to greet the both of you.

Even from yards away Cassian can tell that something is wrong. He takes note of the way Azriel’s shadows shroud his taught shoulders, wings pinched high and tight behind his back, how he twists the practice sword around in his grip like he’s in the need to expel some energy.

The warlord was almost always ready for a lengthy spar, but he’d promised Nesta he’d go to her favorite bookstore with her today, and he was not to get all sweaty and bloodied up before he had to go.

Azriel hears his brother murmuring to you but he doesn’t make it out with how loud his blood is roaring in his ears. He keeps his shadows tucked tightly to his person, doesn’t even want to know what the two of you would have to talk about.

He feels like he could splinter the wooden sword into shards.

Cassian retreats back into the house and you approach Azriel, careful not to get too close. “Shadowsinger?”

He casts a sharp look over his shoulder and it makes you suck in a soft breath but he’s heard it. You watch curiously as his hazel eyes scour the training ring, noting the spot beside you is now empty.

Cassian is nowhere in sight.

“Are you okay?” you try again, having the courage to take a single step closer, even though he looks like he could snap at any second.

“I’m fine,” his response is like ice, sending shivers down your spine.

You set your jaw, giving a single nod as you head towards the weapons rack for your own training weapon.

The weight of the wooden sword is a familiar feeling now, and you’ve added the weapon to your warm up stretches, holding the weapon above your head as you reach to the sky to stretch your back, just as you’d seen Azriel do multiple times.

The air in the training ring is tense. You don’t know what to say to Azriel, who is clearly in a sour mood. You bend over, touching the practice blade to your toes as you chew on your lip, racking your brain for what to do, try and talk to him or let your weapons have the conversation.

“Are you and Cassian fighting?” you ask once he’s facing you, his own weapon raised for the spar to begin.

“Something like that,” he grits, making the first move. He swings his sword down in a maneuver you easily parry.

Azriel usually always starts your spars with a move you can quickly defend, wanting you to feel comfortable and get into the groove of the training. You know that it won’t quite be like that should you ever encounter a real battle, but the thought of it is nice.

“Why?” you reply, crouching low as he swings above your head. You drive up from the ground but he’s expected it and has moved out of your reach.

Azriel twists the sword in his hand and you're momentarily stunned by his grace as he handles the weapon with ease. “Why are you so nosy?”

You shrug, and he thinks that you’re going to pause mid-spar to talk about this, so he doesn’t anticipate your next strike coming. It jabs him clean in the stomach and if it weren’t wood he’d be a little more worried, but he hisses and bares his teeth as he slides back nonetheless.

Clever girl.

“I just don’t think you should be fighting with Cassian,” you say, watching him closely, trying to gauge his next move, “You love your brother, no?”

He’s pissed. “Must you always talk about love?” He asks, and the way he utters the word, like it’s some sort of venom has you swinging back that much harder. Your sword bounces off of his with a loud crack, the force of it reverberating in your bones.

“You are so passionate about hating love,” you remark, eyeing him as the two of you circle each other slowly. You catch his shadows burrowing into the deep red sand from the corner of your eyes and you stall for a second, wondering what he’s going to command them to do. Kick your feet out from under you? “Must you feel so hurt?”

Azriel runs his fingers through his damp hair, frustratedly, twisting the training sword around in his hands, letting the heaviness of the hilt ease him as his mind slips.

It’s not that he hates love, it’s that he’s yearned for it for so long and he hasn’t even experienced something even remotely close. Sure he has his friends and his mother, but love like that isn’t the love he’s been searching 500 years for.

He wants what Rhys and Feyre have, Cassian and Nesta. Fuck, he’d even take what Elain and Lucien have if only for the fact that he was destined to be bound to someone. He didn’t ever think that such a thing was fated for him.

Until he met you.

He doesn’t even know where to start, how to differentiate the thin line between the lust and love he feels when you’re near. The rippling urge to protect you around threats that aren’t even treats. A strong word from Rhys or a suggestive joke from Cassian. It’s not his place to do so.

But here you stand before him, a beautiful creature that he can’t have, which makes him want you so much more.

And you…you probably couldn’t love him. Not for the marred flash of his skin, the multitude of scars and bruises he carries. You with your perfectly flawless skin, glimmering in the sunshine, you are ethereal in more ways than one, and how would he look with something so flawless next to him?

Surely he’d ruin you.

“Why must you be so stubborn?”

You scoff, crossing your arms across your chest for a moment before you realize you’re still standing in the ring where he can surprise you with a strike back at any moment. “Like you’re not?”

“I’m a realist.”

“So am I.”

“Not when you believe in your little folklore love you’re not.”

He stills at the malicious words he’s let spill from his mouth. He didn’t mean them in the slightest and his throat tightens as he watches your brows curl and your eyes narrow.

You’re back at square one again.

“I believe in a nature I know is true. You are surrounded by love yet you cannot accept that it is real, Azriel. Is it because you do not have any?”

“I don’t–” he cuts himself off, brain short-circuiting at your words. Azriel. You’d called him by his name for the first time. His heart thumps loudly in his chest as he stares back at you, taking a shaky breath…panting, chest heaving. He has to turn away, your words striking hot through his core like you’d sliced into him with your blade. “I don’t believe in love because I’ve seen it hurt, even kill, and I won’t let that happen to myself.”

“It’s not your choice to make.”

The words ring in his head. The exact phrase he’d used in Rhysand’s office when he was reprimanding you about your powers the first time you’d met.

“I am not a good person,” his voice is a tremor that you hardly hear. His hands are shaking and his head dips low, wings shuddering behind him. His shadows are agitated, even you can see that from their erratic movements, not silky and fluid like you knew them to be. It takes all of his strength to even his breath and keep his voice steady.

“I don’t feel…I’m hopelessly flawed.”

Your breath catches in your own throat now and your heart stutters, aching, reaching out for Azriel as his knees give out, head hanging low between his muscular shoulders, wings drooping into the red sand of the fighting ring.

You circle him slowly, letting his shadows carry whispers of where you are, moving around to his side to crouch in front of him, knee to knee.

“You’re not.” Your voice is thick with emotion from what this beautiful male before you thinks of himself. “You deserve love, Azriel. You just have to accept it.”

Tentatively, you place a gentle hand on his cheek, nervous that he might pull away. Your cool fingers make him flinch but he’s startled by the action, quickly leaning into your palm as you begin to move your hand away.

He wants you there.

You thumb the droplet on his cheek away, admiring the male up close. If you ask him later he will say it’s just sweat, and the corner of your mouth lifts at the thought.

His deep hazel eyes stare intently into yours, looking for any sign of untruth. He’ll find none, no matter what shadowsinger tricks he uses, because what you feel for him is real. He clutches onto your other hand tightly, nodding softly.

“I want it,” he breathes, a whisper so soft it’s picked up by the wind before you can even hear it. But you’ve read it on his lips, can see it in his eyes, the hunger for the bond he’s been burying inside of him all along.

“Az,” you say quietly, brushing his sweaty hair from his eyes, “Take a look over there for me.” You nod your head and he focuses on something just above your shoulder. His grip tightens on yours when he catches sight of the figure perched on the stone railing of the training ring. You shush him softly, rubbing over the scarred skin of his hands with your thumb. “It’s alright, she’s a friend of mine.”

Another Cupid, he notices once he sees those pure white wings, almost an exact match of yours. His shoulders slacken with relief, and his hazel eyes light with a mix of realization, weariness, and excitement as he turns back to you.

His heart pounds in his chest as you stare at him, eyes wide in question.

“Ready?”

He nods once, squeezing your hand before pulling you flush against his chest, his lips finding yours like he’s done it a thousand times. His hands wrap around your waist tightly and yours find their way around his neck, snaking into his inky black hair, holding him that much closer.

It’s heaven, his lips. Like everything you’ve ever wanted, needed, right here in this male before you. You gasp as you feel the sharp tip of the arrow pierce through your back and into your chest. It tears through the muscle and leaves through your front, embedding deep into Azriels stomach, locking the two of you together.

The second of startling pain melts in an instant, becoming hot and heavy and pure ecstasy. You can feel him inside of you, his soul intertwining with your own, lifetimes of memories dissolving into one another as you become him and he becomes you. Every heart string twists and knots with his and you feel like you’re on top of the world, sharing this with him. He belongs to you as you belong to him, fated together by the Mother.

Azriel’s grinning when you pull away and you lose your breath all over again, you’ve never seen a sight so beautiful.

“(Y/N), I’ve wanted you even without this tying us together,” he admits, brushing the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

You smile at your mate warmly, giving the bond a teasing tug, “But isn’t it so much better knowing that we’re meant to be?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, honeyed eyes sparkling with emotion, “I suppose it is.” He captures your lips with his, letting your scent, your taste intoxicate him, fill every part of his body with you.

The lover and the fighter, together at last.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel/you #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #azsazz #shadowsinger #cupids chokehold

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topazy · 6 months

Text

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Blood, character death

Chapter: 5.04

“You still miffed that you’re staying?”

You tried to frown at Daryl’s question but couldn’t help but let the seriousness slip and laugh. You were ecstatic on the inside and doubted anything could knock you off the cloud you were drifting on. Beth was alive. Daryl had returned without Carol, but a boy named Noah was with him, who informed your group that Beth was alive. The same people who had taken Carol had taken your older sister, so now Rick was leading the way to bring the both of them back.

Once Beth and Carol were back, you’d be able to regroup with Maggie and Glenn. It filled your heart with so much joy that soon you could be with both your sisters again.

Of course you wanted to go rescue Beth with them, but Rick wouldn’t allow it; he said it was too dangerous, which you understand. “I wasn’t miffed, just disappointed.”

“Yeah right,” Daryl ruffles your hair, and he glances down at the hole you were digging. “That’s a good trench; I’ll see if I can get anymore wood and shit for it before I go.”

Most of the group had made spears out of wood from the pews in the church. You placed the DIY spears in front of the trenches surrounding the building so that any walkers that got too close would be impaled on them.

“Thanks.”

Not long after Daryl and Sasha handed you smaller pieces of wood for you to make smaller weapons out of, all of the group minus you, Carl, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Judith stayed behind. Soon as they leave, Carl and Michonne nail the door shut to help slow down anyone or anything trying to get inside the church. The hammering noise causes Judith to cry, so you go and pick her up from the makeshift crib.

“Hey, hey, what’s all the noise about?” You ask gently, trying to shush her as you do. “The banging will stop in a moment, and then you go back to sleep.”

Hearing a scratching noise, you glance over at Gabriel, who is frantically trying to scratch dried blood off the wooden floors.

He was definitely starting to show signs he’s coming unhinged.

—

You smile brightly at Judith as she giggles, feeling your finger move over her tummy. Carl sits down beside you; he looks pleased to see his baby sister happy. He rubs his finger over her cheek gently. “What’s so funny, Judy?”

“She liked having her name spelled out on her tummy,” you explain, before tickling her.

Carl looks at you slightly confused. “Is her name spelled out?”

“My mom used to spell out words on mine and Beth’s back during bath time, and we’d need to guess what it was.”

Teasingly, he says, “It sounds lame.”

Your brows raise in amusement. “Turn around.”

Carl let out a deep sigh, pretending he didn’t want to do as you asked, but he began laughing the minute you spelled out the first letter.

“Z…o…m… Are you really spelling out zombie?”

You burst out laughing, “Okay, so it’s not that hard, but when we were kids, it was pretty fun to play. Plus, my mom would always pick bigger words; I’d always get so mad because Beth always got the ones I couldn’t spell right.”

He offers you a kind smile before picking Judith up and hugging her. Quietly, he says, “I tried to help Gabriel choose a weapon, but I think I just upset him.”

“He’s been isolated for so long, I don’t think he fully understands how bad things are.”

“I know; I just wish he would let us help prepare us.”

“He will come around eventually,” you said, letting Judith hold your finger with her whole hand. “I didn’t know much about the world outside my daddy's farm until the day he needed to help save a young boy's life.”

—

You and Carl remained sitting on the floor of the church, playing with Judith, until yelling from outside, followed by banging at the door, caught your attention. “Is that Father Gabriel?”

Michonne starts to break off the wooden slabs, preventing the door from opening. Carl hands you his sister before going to help her. Soon as the door opens, Gabriel falls to the floor, then hurry’s to scramble back up before the small herd of walkers burst into the church. You all follow Gabriel into his office, where you discover he’s put a hole in the floor that leads outside by ripping up the floorboards. When you hear scratches on the other side of the door, which was threatening to burst open, you nudge Carl to go. He jumps into the crawl space first, then you hand him Judith, then do the same thing seconds later.

When you reach outside, Carl helps you stand with his free hand. "Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

He nods before trying to calm Judith, who had begun crying with all the fast movements and loud noises going on around her. Michonne crawls out next, and the three of you wait nervously to see if Father Gabriel will make it out.

“Do you think he's…” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but are pleasantly surprised when you see a hand holding a bloody machete reaching out from underneath the church. You rush over and offer Gabriel your hand to help him stand up.

“Let’s go,” Michonne says, waving for you to follow. She makes her way to the front of the church and re-locks the doors, trapping the walkers inside.

—

You pace back and forth, trying to think of what to do next. You had hardly any supplies between you and enough baby food to last two days at most. “Do you think we would be able to clear the church?”

“No,” Michonne says, shaking her head. “Not with just us.”

Before you can say anything else, a fire truck comes speeding towards the church. Carl grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back into the tree line, keeping you out of view of whoever it is.

The fire trucks smash into the front of the church, collapsing the front of the roof, making it impossible for anyone to go back inside. When the side of the truck opens and you notice your sister coming out, you run over to her with your arms wide open.

“Maggie!”

Glenn joins in on the hug and asks, “What the hell happened here?”

You pull back from the hug and say, "The dead got inside, but it’s not important; Beth is alive!”

Maggie’s eyes become glossy. “She’s alive?”

“She’s at a hospital in Atlanta,” Michonne confirms. “Rick and the others have gone to get her.”

Tears of happiness fall from Maggie’s eyes. She pulls you in for another hug and kisses the crown of your head. It wouldn’t be long until the three of you were reunited at last.

—

“Wait here,” Maggie says, closing the side door of the truck. “There’s still dead roaming around; stay in the truck until we clear the area.”

You roll your eyes and slump back into the chair. Maggie just shakes her head and softly laughs before walking off.

You watch as the group takes out the few walkers that approach them. You bounce your knees in anticipation, waiting for Beth to appear at any moment. You missed her so much; you missed her hugs, the braids she used to braid your hair, and you even missed hearing her singing, which used to drive you crazy. You try to distract yourself by focusing on Judith, who was babbling away in her brother's arms.

“There’s my dad,” Carl says, leaning forward to look past you. “Oh shit, Hope, I think something is wrong.”

You don’t hear what Carl says next to you as your eyes lock on to the figure in Daryl’s arms. “Beth!”

Carl figures it out before you and tries to reach for your hand, but you snatch it away, swing open the door, and jump down out of the fire truck. “Beth, Beth!” When you almost reach Daryl, you can see the red staining her blonde hair. “Why is there blood in her hair?”

Before you can get any closer, Rick spins and blocks your view. “Don't; you don’t want to see her like this.”

Your legs give way, and you crumble to the ground, sobbing. Beth was gone. Your sister was dead.

#the walking dead #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfic #teen spirit #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x fem!reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #teen spirit 5.04

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midnighttheroies · 1 year

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Helluva Boss “He Can Get Hurt” Explained and In Defense Of The Newest Episode

so i was browsing on twitter after the new release of the newest episode, and alot of people where confused about blitz’s reaction to stolas being in the hospital, alot of people kept pointing out how stupid the line was, how it and how episode 4 sucks, ect, i even saw one comment about how helluva boss lost it’s charm?!!, and i’m here to show you exactly why none of that is true at all

1: “He Can Get Hurt” explanation

alot of people where confused by this line because in season 1 ep 5, blitz saved stolas by stopping striker when he was about to kill him, and in seas 1 ep 2, when he was stolas and octavia bodyguard, so the idea of stolas getting hurt shouldn’t be surprised and it was a stupid line

here’s why that’s wrong

blitz isn’t dumb, he is aware at the fact that yes demon royalty are targets for assassination and killings and such, but it’s not something that happens to often, also stolas is someone who always puts up a persona and front, he refused to break in-front of striker, and barely flinched when he was being stabbed with a holy weapons, blitz always viewed stolas an indestructible force, he’s seen was he’s capable of, and how powerful he is, stolas is an all powerful being, and because of how he always dismisses blitz’s rude taunts and remarks, blitz built an image in his head that stolas is someone who is incapable of truly getting hurt

until he did

when millie told him about how stolas got hurt badly, you can see the shock and almost denial on his face, and the “He Can Get Hurt” really sticks to you, because in that moment, when blitz found out stolas got hurt, it humanized stolas for him, it made him realize that stolas can be vulnerable, that he can get hurt, he’s not indestructible and he can die, and the possibility was higher then he thought, he could lose stolas, and that terrifies him, also the shock of something happening to someone you know, like the possibility of them getting hurt in such a way is always shocking, no matter what

2: “The R-word scene”

if you guys remember when blitz was speaking with the drugged out goat lady, blitzo was stretching out the word and said “can’t say that anymore” some people had some issues with this, i however thought it was pretty funny, some people though were upset because the show is supposed to be offensive and they didn’t say the word so their for the show is doubling down on itself, first off the show is offensive, just because they censor or don’t say the word fully doesn’t mean it’s doubling down on itself!!, second, it was supposed to be a funny moment, to me it was supposed to be “breaking the fourth wall” kinda moment, like blitzo knows if he says that word he’s gonna get alot of hate, kinda like how brandon in real life doesn’t say the word in his most recent videos anymore like he used to, i also think it’s a little bit of a reference to that, and i think people took it way to much outta context, i think people are taking it way more seriously then it needs to honestly

3: “The show lost it’s charm, it’s like it doesn’t know the plot anymore ect”

first off, the show JUST started season 2, second, helluva boss is a slow pace, slow burn show, their isn’t supposed to be anything big major character/story development just yet, if you ask me, the show is only getting better and better, like ep 3 is by far their best episode, that episode alone changed my whole view on moxxie in the best way possible and puts season 1 ep 1 in a whole new different light

also another thing, helluva boss is a show where it goes into more depth and you have to look at things more then what your shown, the show is showing subtle hints here and their and you have to make it out, and i love that, it makes everything so much more interesting

also you can’t just judge a show when it just basically started and doesn’t even have an ending yet

2: “Blitz Defense”

alot, and i mean ALOT of people where quick to point out how much of an asshole blitz was to stolas within those text messages and just him in general, but people forget that blitz is like this as a way to protect himself, we’ve seen stolas at his most vulnerable moments, we know stolas loves blitz, but blitz himself doesn’t know that, to him, he’s stolas plaything, a sex toy, nothing more, he’s scared of loving people, he’s scared of intimacy because he’s afraid of getting hurt, so he pushes people away before they can hurt him, which is what he’s doing with stolas, because he doesn’t think stolas truly cares about him, and even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t, blitz does feel something for stolas, he cares about him, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have been worried about him over the phone and he sure as hell wouldn’t have sent a text message, i don’t know if i would say blitz loves stolas just yet, but i do think he at least likes him, i personally see this as a “stolas fell first but blitz fell harder” kinda thing

#helluva boss blitz #Helluva Boss #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss season 2 episode 4 #stolas #stolas goeita #stolas x blitzo #blitzo #blitzø #stolitz #stolas x blitz #stolas x blitzø #helluvaboss #ya'll need to chill out #twitter is full of hates geez

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jamesunderwater · 2 months

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Jily Microfic: Hostile

@jilymicro-oops - feb 29th, prompt: hostile - words: 1,812 Summary: The chaos concludes with a dramatic flourish. Part 3 of 3! Read Part 1 & Part 2 first; or, better yet, read the whole lil academic rivals micros series so you can catch all the references in this silly little trio-finale that I've had far too much fun writing :D

James is having a good time. Well – he's having a fine time. He's not hating the whole thing, anyway. After two weeks of hearing it beside his ear, he's starting to get used to the volume of Tamara's laugh, and she is actually funny sometimes. Her dark hair falls across her shoulders in a way he should find attractive, and her foot keeps “accidentally” touching his calf in a way he should like, and she peers at him through her lashes in a way he should find enticing…

But he just keeps thinking about lemon tart.

Because, here's the thing. He knows it's Lily's favorite – she complained about its absence at the start of term feast last year, and when they had the lesson on Amortentia it was the only scent she actually named, and she told him – and only a few weeks ago, at that! He'd offered to share his sticky toffee pudding and she'd pulled a face, remarking it was far too sweet for her liking, and he'd said, “Ah, right, lemon tart,” and she'd smirked and shrugged, which, alright, wasn't a firm ‘yes, that's my favorite’, but he knows her smirks…so what's she playing at?

“James?” Tamara's sweet-like-toffee-pudding voice draws his attention back. “You alright?” she asks with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” James chuckles, waving a hand. “Sorry, got, er… Well, your hair just looks really nice.”

She beams, and he's an arse. He’s very aware of this. He’s always sort of teetered on the edge of being an arse – though, yes, on a number of occasions he’s fully fallen on the side of the arseholes… Alright, fine, for a number of years he fell on the side of the arseholes, but, you know, barely, and – the point is, he never would have become this big of an arse on purpose… It all just sort of happened. One moment he’s awkwardly agreeing that a girl is cute, the next moment he’s talking to her in the hallway because he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying ‘sorry, that joke was really only for my mates’, and all of a sudden, she’s eating lunch with him every day and asking what he’s doing for the Hogsmeade visit this weekend and he’s trying to come up with something other than ‘obsessing about fucking lemon tart, what about you?’

Tammy giggles. “Thanks…” she says, nervously tugging on a strand of hair. “Well, erm, I was saying – I’ve never actually tried butterbeer, but it’s really good.”

James nods, “Yeah, definitely.”

Merlin’s mother's saggy tits, though, if it isn't lemon tart, then what the fuck's Lily Evans’ favorite dessert?

—

“‘Join me’?” Lily repeats, incredulous at this request. “You want to help me crash your best mate’s date?”

The three Gryffindors share glances between one another and mumble unintelligibly before turning back to her each with a shrug and a nod.

“We’re really bored,” Peter explains.

“And I don’t actually think he’ll care much,” Remus says, shrugging again.

“Plus,” Sirius adds with a grin, “I’m dying to see how red James’s face’ll get.”

“Wait,” Lily turns her eyes to Remus. “Why don’t you think he’ll care much?”

The three boys start sharing glances again, and Lily huffs.

“Would you quit with that!” she barks, glaring when Sirius chortles.

“Blimey, Evans, no need to get hostile…”

“At least it’s only a Level Three…” she hears Peter mutter.

“Level Three, really?” Sirius sounds incredulous. “Pete, c’mon, she’s clearly only at Level Two.”

“I’m what?”

Annoyance pounding in her veins, Lily checks over her shoulder out of habit, and catches a glimpse of Tamara’s foot tapping James’s leg beneath the table. The tips of her ears burn and she feels nauseous.

She can’t stand this a minute longer.

“Fine,” she tells the boys, then turns and enters the pub before she can change her mind.

(This really ran away from me, so read the rest on AO3!)

#jily #jily*#jily microfic #jily micro-oops #jily microfics #my writing #james potter #lily evans #jple #jily fic #hp #academic rivals

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love your writing so much! My request is just more of Eddie's water exposure therapy! I'd love to see Robin and Steve help and see how things play out. If not, that's totally cool too! Thanks for sharing your writing in the first place!

THANK YOU!!! You know what is super funny is I was working on this when you sent the other request yesterday. I loved exploring more of this post, and I think maybe I could keep doing so if I have time someday. I hope you love it! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------

Eddie was committed to getting through this, he was.

It’s just that he hadn’t really thought about how fucking difficult it would be to have to do it with Nancy.

Nancy was strong-willed and badass and if Eddie was ever gonna be interested in women, it would be Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler.

But sometimes, like today, he needed someone soft. Someone who was okay with taking things slow.

She knew something was off the moment she walked in the door, but she didn’t comment on it until he was hovering by the sink in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do it today.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not a good day.”

“Sometimes those are the days you need to push yourself most.”

“And sometimes I just need a break! We’ve been doing this for five days. I’m tired.”

He was tired. And he was frustrated. He had a setback one day three that he still hadn’t completely recovered from and he barely slept last night and Wayne forgot to save him the leftovers he wanted so it was just a shit day.

“What if I get Robin?”

“I don’t see how that will help.”

“Sometimes a small change can help. She already said she’d do whatever you need.”

“Does she realize I’m naked? I feel like she must not know I’m naked. I don’t even think she’s seen Steve naked, and they practically live up each others’ assholes.”

“Thanks for that image.” Nancy shook her head as if she could shake the image out and forget it was ever there. “So. Robin or me?”

“Robin.”

And despite Eddie being kind of convinced that Robin wouldn’t actually come, she did. And she brought him gummy bears as a reward.

Nancy didn’t give him rewards.

Maybe Robin should be in charge.

Nancy went over things with Robin again, explained that today was a full minute under the water, that he had to be fully submerged except for his head, and that he did have to be naked.

“Well. If I must see a dude’s junk, I guess I’m glad it’s yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Robin,” he said as he stripped.

If he thought too much about it, he’d lock himself in his room and just never shower again.

But Robin turned away as he stripped to give him some semblance of privacy and he was grateful.

Nancy waited in the hall, said she’d be there if they needed her, but would rather keep it to just one of them in the bathroom with Eddie.

Robin turned the water on.

“You like hot or warm?”

“Hot.”

“Good. Give it a minute.”

The water hitting the shower floor was apparently enough to have him losing his shit today. He tensed up and waited with a towel wrapped around him, watching as Robin kept testing the temperature of the water every ten seconds.

Finally, she smiled at him and nodded.

“Do you want me to talk or just count in my head?”

“Usually Nancy just counts out loud.”

“Does that help?”

“It doesn’t not help.”

“Would something else be better?”

“Uh. I guess try talking?”

“You got it.” Robin opened the bathroom door for a moment, said something, then closed the door again.

“Nancy’s got a kitchen timer ready to start when I knock on the door. You ready?”

“No, but I have to be.”

“I got all day.”

It did help to hear that. He knew, logically, no one would rush him, but sometimes he was worried that they’d give up on him if he took too long.

Like, he knew he was already pushing his luck just having them around for his everyday theatrics, so this was just icing on the cake.

But Robin didn’t make him feel like he had to worry about that and that already helped.

It’s not that Nancy rushed him, it’s just that she was a very straight to the point person. In or out. Shit or get off the pot.

Robin was the opposite in a lot of ways.

More of a, we’ll get there when we get there and we’ll stop to look at flowers on the way, kind of person.

She just watched as he stood by the shower, playing with his hair.

He took a deep breath, dropped the towel, and got in.

“Alright, good! You let me know when you’re in the water and I’ll knock and start chatting.”

Eddie could do this. He could.

So he did.

“In.”

He heard Robin knock as he clenched his teeth together and felt the water run down his shoulders and back.

Robin had picked the perfect temperature, not scalding, but hot enough to leave his skin pink. Just like he liked it.

“That’s how Steve likes his baths, which I tell him all the time is why he gets so lightheaded. You’re cooking yourselves. I’m realizing that I might be the emotional support bathing bestie. I sit with Steve when he has baths and now you with the shower. Is this all I’m good for?”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh.

It was helping, but he was still struggling to focus on anything except how stifling the water felt, how the steam building around him was starting to feel too much like fog and the drops were feeling too much like his own blood spattering on his body.

“Time?” He managed to croak out.

“Nance! Time?”

“20 seconds!”

“That’s not bad! Tell me your favorite Metallica song right now.”

He knew the answer. He opened his mouth to do it, but couldn’t say anything.

“Eddie? You okay?”

He tried to speak again, but it was just a whimper.

The water was too much.

He jumped out of the shower, nearly knocking Robin over in his escape.

He was shivering, though his skin was hot to the touch from the water, and Robin was already recovering and wrapping his towel around him.

Nancy was opening the door, worried eyes peeking around the corner.

“Listen to my voice, Eddie. Take in a deep breath. Slowly.”

It was easy to listen to Robin.

She didn’t hesitate to wrap him up in her arms, rubbing her hands up and down his back as he tried to breathe.

Nancy was standing in the doorway, not saying or doing anything, just a silent presence there to assist if needed.

He could feel Robin’s heart beating hard in her chest, so hard it felt like it was trying to jump into his chest.

But he was calming down now.

He pulled away and sat down on the floor, towel still loosely wrapped around him.

Robin shut off the shower, quickly joining him on the floor and waving Nancy away.

“You’re good at this.”

“Well, somebody has to be there for Steve when he’s having a bad day. I’ve gotten plenty of practice.”

“Is he this bad?”

“Oh, on his real bad days, he’s worse. And yes, you absolutely should hold that over him. Maybe then he’ll accept help from someone other than just me.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when she rested her head on his.

“You should have him come help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Because you have a big stupid crush on him?”

“Why, yes, Robin. That’s exactly why.”

He knew she was rolling her eyes, but he didn’t care.

“You’re both so stupid, it gives me a stomach ache.”

Eddie didn’t think about what she said, just sat in silence as she started playing with his fingers.

“Want me to come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, please.”

————

Robin came back for three days in a row, and Eddie managed to stay under the water until the timer went off every time.

He was scared to think about what would happen if he started to fail again.

But with Robin constantly talking his way through it, he couldn’t worry for long.

————

“Eddie.”

Oh no.

Robin’s voice was so scratchy, and dull, and not Robin.

She was sick.

Nancy wasn’t available today or tomorrow.

He couldn’t do this alone.

“It’s okay, Robs. I’ll…call Steve.”

“Good. Sorry again.”

She didn’t sound nearly as sorry as when he first answered the phone, but it wasn’t worth arguing about.

He paced the floor of his room for nearly ten minutes before he gave in and just dialed Steve’s number.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Oh, you have one of those homes. Gross.”

“Eds!”

“Hey, Stevie.”

Eddie knew his face was doing that stupid smile he only did for Steve, a combination of fond and content that he’d never been able to give anyone else.

“Everything good?”

“Well, kinda no?”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked quickly, his tone changing from casual excitement to concern.

“You remember what Nancy told you about the uh…exposure therapy?”

“Yeah, how’s that going?”

Eddie sighed. Steve was so fucking nice all the time. It wasn’t fair.

“It’s not terrible. Robin’s helped for a few days. But uh.”

“What is it?”

“Robin’s sick and Nancy’s out of town. I can’t skip a day, especially not when I’ve been on a roll, ya know? So I was wondering if maybe, and you can say no I’ll do it alone if I have to, maybe you’d be willing to come play therapist?”

That wasn’t so hard. It was awkward, certainly, but not too bad.

“I’ll be right over,” Steve said quickly and hung up.

Eddie didn’t mean right this second necessarily, Jesus.

But if Steve wanted to help this badly, then who was he to stop him from rushing over?

And rush he did.

It wasn’t 15 minutes later that Steve was at his door.

“Where’s the fire, man?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Eddie smiled at him. “Do you remember what Nancy said about all this?”

“Yeah. How long are you up to?”

“Minute and a half. Or I have to turn the water on and adjust the temperature myself and do a minute. But I don’t wanna try something new today, so minute and a half it is.”

Steve nodded along, but Eddie swore he looked nervous. Like he was hesitant to even be here. He needed to offer him an out.

“Listen, I can just wait. Skipping a day or two isn’t really gonna make a big difference in the long run.”

“No!” Steve suddenly shouted. “No. I want to help. I want to be here for you.”

“Oh,” Eddie looked down at his feet, hoping it would hide the blush on his cheeks. “Okay then.”

So he led Steve to the bathroom. He set the kitchen timer but didn’t start it yet.

Steve was standing by the shower, shifting his weight between his legs anxiously. He looked more nervous than Eddie even felt.

“Nancy and Robin usually turn the water on and make sure it’s hot for me. Robin said it’s like how you like it?”

“Got it.”

He turned to the faucets, adjusting them for a few seconds and then pulling back as he waited for the water to heat up.

“You can strip, I’ll turn around.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

Eddie knew he sounded ridiculous.

You’ve taken showers before, idiot.

But the difference here was that Steve was about to be here to see him at his weakest, at least emotionally. And he’d be naked.

Going off of how much Nancy and Robin had to see of him, Steve would be getting an eyeful too.

“You okay?”

Eddie shook himself out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

He threw his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants before he could overthink it.

Steve had seen most of him when he was helping change his bandages after the bats snacked on him. It wasn’t a big deal.

Steve at least pretended to be paying more attention to the water and floor as he pulled his legs from his pants and slid his boxers off.

“Water’s good. You ready?”

Steve looked at his face, clearly avoiding any chance of seeing anything below the waist.

Probably locker room courtesy or something, though if you asked him, making eye contact was way more intimate than accidentally seeing someone else’s dick.

“Ready.”

Steve moved to the sink as he got in, probably grabbing the kitchen timer to start it the second he got under the water.

It took him a minute, the hot water hitting his toes gently.

But he took a deep breath, turned his back to the stream, and backed into the water.

“I’m in.”

The first part was getting easier to do, he’d admit that. It was easier to stay in the moment while the water first started hitting him, easier to speak for the first 15 or so seconds before he was completely soaked.

But then it was quiet. He couldn’t hear anything except the water beating down on him and the shower floor.

Steve wasn’t saying anything and Eddie didn’t know how to ask him to.

He didn’t want to sound needy, Steve was already giving up time out of his day to be here at all.

How long had it been? Probably not that long.

It felt like years.

The water was the perfect temperature, and that kind of helped him remember this was a shower, not the end of the fucking world.

The end of the world doesn’t care about your comfort.

Steve does though.

But after another ten or so seconds, the buzzing in his ears got louder, he could feel his body shaking as if the water had suddenly turned ice cold, and the thoughts rushing through his head were more memories he wished he could forget.

He still felt the water, but it wasn’t water anymore. It was blood and bats and doctor’s hands trying to just stop the bleeding.

And then he felt actual hands on him, a body against him pushing him so the water was barely touching him.

He took a gasping breath and collapsed against them.

Steve.

He was fully clothed, like he’d panicked and jumped in without thinking about it at all. He had his arms wrapped around Eddie tightly, not leaving an inch of space between them. He was muttering something, but Eddie couldn’t quite hear what it was.

He let himself be held, no longer in panic mode with his human shield protecting him from the water.

“How long?”

Steve was rubbing his back, spreading a new warmth against his skin and helping, always helping.

“One minute.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t wanna tell Nancy that he failed today.

She wouldn’t make him feel bad intentionally, but she got this look on her face when he didn’t make it to the timer going off like she wasn’t sure he could get through it.

“You wanna get out?”

“Please.”

Steve pulled away so he could shut off the water and Eddie got a good look at him.

He was soaked, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, his hair matted down against his head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I made the choice.”

He did, yeah. But he probably felt obligated to, and that’s not really making a choice, is it?

“Eds, look at me.”

He’d been looking at the floor, kind of hoping it would just swallow him up for good, but managed to pull his head up when Steve asked.

“I’ll always, always, make the choice to help you. Okay?”

Eddie bit back a sob as he nodded, and Steve pulled him against his chest again.

“You have no clue how much I wanna be here for you. When Nancy called, I practically begged to be here, did she tell you that? But she said it wouldn’t be helpful if I jumped in the moment you needed me.”

“Helped now.”

Steve squeezed his arms.

“Yeah. She won’t be happy with me. But you weren’t answering and when I looked in, it’s like you weren’t even here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Eddie nodded. That lined up with what he’d been feeling, seeing.

“We should get out. You’re shivering.”

Steve guided him out of the shower and wrapped the towel he’d left hanging up around him, rubbing along his arms and back to help get him warmer faster.

Then he was taking off his shirt and removing his belt and Eddie’s brain couldn’t catch up.

“Uh.”

“Sorry, do you have some clothes I can borrow while I put these in the dryer?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve smiled at him like he didn’t just break his brain in half.

He managed to walk to his bedroom, grab a shirt and sweatpants, and walk back to the bathroom with only a single thought running through his mind: he’s wearing my clothes.

“Thanks,” Steve said as Eddie wordlessly handed them over.

And then he realized he forgot boxers.

Steve would be wearing his sweatpants with nothing under them.

He knew the noise he let out was close to a squeak, like a fucking mouse or something, but he couldn’t hold it in. Steve didn’t acknowledge it, hopefully didn’t hear it at all, as he focused on getting his soaked jeans off his body.

Then his boxers came off.

Eddie really did his best not to look. He did. It would be so rude to stare.

It would be even more rude to say something.

So he did both.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. The girls weren’t kidding were they?”

Steve’s face was bright red, but he didn’t look up until he was pulling the sweatpants up his legs.

“I guess that depends what they were saying.”

Eddie was still standing with his towel wrapped around him, eyes wide at everything that had just happened.

“For one, that you’re pretty well-endowed. I thought they just lacked experience. Maybe I’m the one lacking experience. Maybe you’re just huge.”

Steve was smirking at him, the confidence of the king coming back as he listened to Eddie.

“That so?”

“God, yeah. I’m never gonna be able to be with anyone again after seeing that.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Steve was stepping into his space now, still shirtless, still smirking.

“I mean, look at you. How could I ever be satisfied with someone else inside me when I could have that?”

Oh. Wait. No. He wasn’t supposed to be saying this out loud.

Steve’s hands were on his hips, though.

Gripping him tight, like he had no intention of letting him go.

“You want that? With me?”

Well, might as well lay it all out there.

“I want everything with you. Anything you’ll give me.”

“Everything?” Steve was still smirking, that asshole. “So if I wanted to take you out on a date…”

“A date?”

“Yeah. To dinner or something.”

“We can’t go on a date, Steve. We’re two men in bumfuck Indiana. We’d be killed.”

“How about I make you dinner? My place. Tonight?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not, but hopefully I will be,” he said with a wink.

“Steve. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m like, kind of in love with you, full disclosure, and I’m not sure I can handle one date, a fuck, and then you never wanting to even talk to me again.”

Steve watched as he rambled, running his thumbs along Eddie’s hips like he was trying to keep him calm.

“Full disclosure, I’m kind of in love with you, too. I mean, I did just jump in a shower fully clothed to make sure you weren’t gonna hurt yourself. I’d do it every day if I had to.”

Eddie searched his face for any sign of a lie. Steve was easy to read, or at least he was to Eddie.

But Steve was giving him a fond smile, and moving in closer, and Eddie didn’t see any sign of a lie.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw. He was looking at him like he was special, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it.

And then Steve was kissing him.

He dropped the towel. It was accidental, but he wasn’t going to interrupt any of this to pull it back up.

Steve was an intense kisser. He should’ve known.

He put everything he had into it. He kissed with his whole body, quite literally putting his back into it as he pushed Eddie against the wall.

But Eddie wasn’t doing this in his bathroom. Despite the fact that he was very obviously willing to, he wanted to have the date first.

He pulled away, but stayed in Steve’s arms. He wasn’t quite ready for complete separation.

“You’re making me dinner tonight?”

“I’m making you dinner tonight.”

“And it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

————

Steve came every day after that, even on days when Robin or Nancy were already there.

He sometimes waited in the hall as backup, but usually he stayed in the bathroom and talked to Eddie, who’d managed to get up to three whole minutes in only a few weeks.

When he finally made it to five, Nancy handed it all over to Steve.

He started taking showers with Eddie. Washing his body and hair so he could have more positive thoughts.

By the end of the year, he was taking regular showers.

He still had moments where he panicked, of course. He still sometimes had to cut them short because of a specific memory.

He still sometimes went a few days without because he couldn’t build up the courage to get in.

But Steve was there. They all were.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #exposure therapy #requests #its about the HEALING

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dollxmania · 2 years

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ㅤㅤㅤ ❝ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄.❞

no tws, very mildly suggestive, gn reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ with idia shroud. not proofread.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎love is a funny thing, sometimes it hits you out of nowhere. after falling for idia, you determine you need to make the first moves or things would never progress.

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ❝ 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑.❞

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“am comfy.” you huffed, snuggling further into the pillow, inhaling it’s scent. the bed was nice and warm, you much preferred laying in it over the cold floors and halls of the rest of the Ignihyde dorm. flopping around to the other side, you peek your face out behind the pillow to see Idia staring at you, only to quickly avert his gaze.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎swallowing, he picked up his controller and begun clicking away at the buttons too fast for you to process what he was doing. “how much longer do you intend to stay, prefect?” he asked as you propped yourself up with your elbow, palm under your chin. he was too cute not to tease, you thought. “i dunno, i feel so comfy with you. am i bothering you, I-di-a?” you respond, watching his cheeks dust with pink as his tapping became more aggressive, the sound of gunshots from his computer ringing out.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“no, i mean yes, i mean no!” he stuttered out, eyes briefly looking at you only to look away from you again with a small squeak, his character getting shot and killed. “can i play? i like you a lot so i want to like the things you like.” you innocently ask, sitting up and putting the pillow aside, a smile widening on your face as he dropped his controller, staring at you nervously.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎this wasn’t anything new, you’d always visit Idia when you could and told him you’d like him, today was no different. at this point most Ignihyde members knew you, and even Ortho was happy to see you talking with his brother and being nice to him. it’d always end the same with Idia too nervous to say much to you, but you were happy to just talk to him on your own or with Ortho while sitting in silence in his room.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎putting a finger to your lips, you acted as though you were thinking. “you don’t have any extra seats,” you commented, snapping your fingers as you crawled into his lap, face inches from him as you grinned. “i guess i’ll sit here if you don’t mind, then. it’s warm and comfy.” his brain was short circuiting but he made no attempt to move you away or tell you off as he lowered his arms, you between them. he ended up lending you a controller he’d let Ortho play with as you nuzzled closer against him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he never rejected your feelings every time you told him you liked him, unless self deprecating comments counted towards rejection, but nonetheless he made no real effort to move it forward. you knew since the start that if you wanted to date him, it would be a long process. you’d almost always would have to make the first move. “how do i play? what’s the best option?” you asked as he loaded the game, hoping he’d reciprocate.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎sweatdropping, Idia explained and somehow soon he begun ranting. “you use b to jump and hold this to run, you want to use this weapon right here since it has good range but since you’re a normie you should probably use this, i’ll carry lolol, you can pick your character right here you should probably just stick to medic.” a small laugh escaped your lips as you listened fully.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there was never a moment around him you didn’t enjoy. his rants were always adorable, especially the way he gets absorbed and passionate about what he loves. snapping out of his long explanation, he stared at you like a deer in headlights as you look up at him like a lovestruck fool. “what are you staring at me for, prefect?!” smiling, you turn back to the screen and choose your character and weapon, leaning back into him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎you couldn’t wait to tell him again tomorrow that you liked him, just thinking of the progress you’ve made. from normie to prefect, and from avoiding you with a ten foot pole to allowing you in his room to sitting in his lap, now talking to you much more comfortably. with your favorite dps, you urged him to start the round as you began blasting the enemies on screen letting out a tiny snicker.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎keeping up with you, Idia’s mouth was agape. “you…you?!” he tried to ask flabbergasted as you stuck your tongue out, getting the final kill as your character was displayed as top killer. “i look forward to playing with you from now on.” you smiled. you really never needed any help, but you couldn’t help it when he sounded so cute when explaining.

ended up posting this fic. gimme more flustered idia x reader fics w flirty reader, please, thanks. i kinda wanna change my aesthetic but don’t because haha im committed and already switch once but damn what if…

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #idia shroud x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #ren.writing💌꒱·˚

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comphy-and-cozy · 8 months

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can't let this moment go - jt compher

Pairing: JT Compher x Reader (f)

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, praise. Brief but resolved angst.

series masterlist | nhl masterlist | part 2

August 2023

Dreams are a funny thing. Living a dream come true is even funnier. You typically don’t realize you’re living it until it’s over, and even if you do, there’s no way to make yourself live fully in the moment. There’s always the flickering thought that you’re never going to be able to remember the breeze in your hair, the low timbre of someone’s voice, the specific sound of their chuckle in their throat. And then before you know it, the dream is over, and you’re eternally left looking back and trying to remember the scent of a cologne or the warmth of a hand in yours.

So when JT Compher steps into your apartment, you take a moment as he’s looking around to take a mental photograph: of him, here, now, like this, to live in a corner of your mind forever. And somehow you just know that you’ll never forget it.

A smile forms on his face, like maybe he’s pleased with himself that he made it here. You are, too, still in disbelief that he’s really standing there, toeing off his shoes at your entry rug and making his way to your couch at your invitation.

He declines your offer for a drink, and you contemplate standing in your kitchen if you want another layer of insulation. Ultimately, you decide against it, joining him on the couch. Feeling a little sheepish, you turn on a mood playlist to give yourself something to do. JT smirks a little, asking in a teasing voice, “You nervous?”

“I’ve got a really hot professional hockey player sitting on my couch. Of course I’m nervous.”

He accepts the compliment wordlessly, humming. “That why you left that night?”

You know what he’s referring to, sure he’s remembering the way you disappeared without a word. There’s not much else to say, so you nod. “I was intimidated.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he says, and the sincerity in his eyes makes your chest tighten. “I won’t lie; I really, really want you, but you can say ‘stop’ at any time. Send me home if you want to. Probably fuck my hand raw tonight if you did, though.”

You’re unable to prevent your laugh at the way he simultaneously makes you feel un-judged and comfortable while also turning you on like you’ve never been before, a low and steady pulse ever-present in your belly. Still, his words send warm butterflies fluttering through your chest, hot at his shameless admission of his attraction to you. Part of you is still waiting for a camera crew to hop out, exposing you, because this can’t possibly be real; JT Compher can’t really be in your living room, expressing his burgeoning desire to take you to bed, looking at you with eyes of rich, melted chocolate.

But then his thigh is pressed against yours, his arm slipped over your shoulder as it rests on the back of your couch. He’s warm, and he tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. His soft, gorgeous eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, without an ounce of expectation. “I thought so from the first second I saw you at that event. It’s why I came up to you after, at the bar.”

Your cheeks grow warm, and you mumble a shy ‘thank you’ as you cast your eyes down. He tilts his head, amused, maybe, at how you grow shy under his compliments. “It’s also why I was so glad to see you across the bar tonight. I had to try again, to see if you’d have me.”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves your throat, almost self-deprecating. “If I’ll have you? You’re the one who’s way out of my league.”

“Not as much as you think.”

You’re afraid to ask, afraid to hear his answer; you’re already in way too fucking deep with a guy that you’ll never see again after tonight. You can’t afford to hear whatever saccharine praise that comes out of his mouth, to let yourself fall deeper into the hole that will surely crush you come tomorrow. But you ask anyway.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m just a normal guy, a human who messes up just like everyone else, and I got chirped to hell when the guys found out I couldn’t… secure the bag,” he chooses his words carefully with an embarrassed chuckle. “That I fumbled a rocket like you.”

You’re processing the idea of JT Compher calling you a rocket—that his teammates called you a rocket, too—sure that your brain has exploded like an alien invasion movie. The sound of your pulse is loud in your ears, barely comprehending all of it when you see his eyes sliding down to your lips, and then your mind really short circuits.

“A rocket, huh?”

“NASA certified.”

It’s almost unfair—no, it’s definitely unfair—at how smooth he is, how gentle he is, how effortless it all seems to be for him. Like he’s done this a thousand times. Maybe he has.

“You know that song, ‘You’re So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings’? That’s pretty much how I feel about you.”

He hums, then nuzzles your jaw with his nose, and all remaining coherent thought evaporates in an instant. The roughness of his beard scratches at your skin, and you yearn for more, for burns all over your body from the auburn hair. His cologne invades your senses and enhances the touch of his hands on your waist.

“If that’s the case, then you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

His lips are even more plush than you imagined, warm and soft when they press against yours. He tastes faintly of pineapple seltzer, the rest something that’s uniquely his own, and suddenly it’s your favorite. Your first kiss is just that—a kiss, maybe two or three, before he’s pulling away to look at you.

Another mental photo. Click.

Cheeks flushed and eyes aglow, he looks like something you could only ever have dreamed of, even more unreal when he smiles at you, his eyes darting back down to your lips. This time, when he leans in, his hands thread into your hair, loose, before he’s leaning back in to kiss you again.

His beard tickles your chin, but you welcome it, accepting the flirt of his tongue against your lips. As much as you want him, biblically, you’d be perfectly content just making out with him on your couch, too. He’s warm, steady, patient in the way he kisses you, like he’s got all the time in the world. When his thumb begins to run along your jaw, you shiver, and you can feel the way he smiles into your kiss. A top tier moment of your life, for certain, feeling JT Compher’s smile on your lips.

It feels like an eternity before you feel his hand grazing its way down your side, resting on your waist. You yearn for him to touch you, more, and you lean your body into his under the guise of deepening your kiss. His lips devour yours, breath hot against your mouth as you feel a slight nudge of his hand, urging you to scoot closer. You do, eventually sliding a leg over his, then shifting again until you’re straddling his lap. The sigh that escapes your throat is involuntary, content at feeling him between your legs and transferring warmth through your body.

And then he starts to travel, blazing a trail of fire with his pillowy lips over the curve of your jaw, down your neck. He mouths at the sensitive flesh, every so often nipping and caressing with his tongue. He is intoxicating.

Your hands itch to explore, the way he’s taken the liberty to explore, and you allow them to card through his hair at the base of his skull, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp. The action earns a low groan from him, vibrating against your throat, and you repeat it, relishing the softness of his hair in your hands. You make a mental note to ask him what products he uses because his hair is definitely in better condition than yours, but then his mouth is trailing down toward your chest and suddenly you can barely remember your own name.

His lips pause at your collarbone, pressing heated kisses into your already heated skin. His hands are resting respectfully on your waist, but you’re silently begging them to roam, freely.

As if on cue, they do, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a sort-of-hug that pulls you closer to his body, his lips still lingering along your sternum. His hands ghost up and down your back, along your spine, touching as much of you as he can before they finally land on your ass. His movements are slow, timid almost, as if gauging your reaction, pausing to make sure he can continue; you let out a sigh in response to let him know to please, keep going.

And he does, gentle at first, squeezing lightly. It’s only a few moments later that he seems to realize the moans that are falling from your mouth are in direct response to his hands and he begins to knead a little harder. It’s the catalyst to turn a pleasant makeout session from steamy to scorching, and soon your hips are rolling in his lap, his hands guiding your movements.

JT’s grunts are muffled by your skin, trailing back up your neck until he reaches your mouth. This time, your kiss is more desperate, swallowing the sighs you offer when your clit bumps just the right spot.

“D’you…” you begin, distracted temporarily by the way his tongue flirts with yours. You can’t even bother to get the words out, loving the feeling of kissing him too much to tear yourself away. But then you feel a distinct and heavy throb between your legs, and you know you’ll be better off if you can just sacrifice a few moments to speak. The effort is lazy, your lips barely leaving his, enough to ask, “D’you want to go to my room?”

It’s comforting to know he, too, can barely get the words out, nodding eagerly with a muffled, “Fuck yeah, yes, please.”

Before you can speak, his strong arms are wrapping around you and out of instinct your legs hug his waist. The feeling of his hands on your ass are nearly enough to send your eyes rolling in the back of your head. He presses another kiss to your lips before he murmurs, “Which way?”

“Kinda want to see if you can find it on your own,” you muse, and he laughs.

“Normally, I’d be all for exploring, but I’m dying to get you horizontal,” he says, taking the opportunity to seize your lips one more time.

You can’t argue with that, and you jerk your head down the hallway. “Last door on the right.”

His nod is short, allowing you to kiss him once more as he makes his way down to your room, walking almost blindly in favor of keeping his lips on you. Nudging the door open with his foot, he parts with you only for a moment to locate your bed before he’s laying you down in the center, not wasting any time before crawling on top of you.

“Much better,” he murmurs, reattaching his lips to your neck while his hands explore new territory: your chest. His fingers glide along the silk fabric of your shirt, raising goosebumps beneath it when he drags his hand up your ribs before massaging your breast.

Out of instinct, your back arches into him and he smiles against your neck. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

“Me too.”

“Sorry I can’t recreate it exactly for you. I don’t have a suit. Or a locker room.”

The reference makes you shiver, flattered that he remembers the details, is bringing them up now, in the heat of the moment, like he’s acknowledging what a dream this is for you. Like he wants to make your dream come true. A wave of courage passes through you, finally overcoming the imposter syndrome that he really is here, now, in your bedroom, ready to ravage you. Plus, there’s his erection that’s pressed against your pelvis, something you desperately want to see, and it’s way too hard to be fake. So you let your hand trail between you, palming him through his chinos, and relish the low groan he releases.

“This will do just fine.”

If this was a video game, your words would’ve been the key to unlocking the next level. All at once, his hands are at the waist of your jeans, tugging the hem of your shirt out before shimmying it over your head. After he tosses the fabric behind him, he pauses to look at you, his eyes roving over your body, growing darker when you reach behind your back to unhook your bra.

At the sight of your bare breasts, it’s like he’s lost all coherent thought—which is just as well, because those left your mind a long time ago. He swoops down, hands returning to massage them, freely this time, while his mouth descends on one of your nipples. His tongue is warm and his lips are soft against the sensitive skin, and you can feel every single nerve ending on fire with his hands on you.

He worships you, kissing every inch of exposed skin, though he allows you to tug his collared shirt off so you can feel his skin pressed against yours. It’s everything you wanted and more, feeling the defined muscle and the strength of his body underneath your fingertips that coast along his ivory skin.

Eventually, JT’s lips make their way to the waist of your jeans, kissing the button gently before he’s glancing up at you through feathery lashes. Without a single ounce of will to resist him, you’re murmuring a soft please, and who is he to deny you?

The air on your thighs makes you shiver as he wrestles the denim down your legs, eyeing the expanse of skin hungrily. You watch the way his deep brown irises zone in on the scrap of fabric between your thighs, a deep warmth radiating at the exact spot. His tempting tongue licks his lips, and for a moment you’re jealous that it’s not your tongue tracing the outline of them.

“These are…” he trails off, then curses. “I’m kind of glad I didn’t know you had this tiny little thing on or else I’m not sure I would’ve made it out of the bar alive.”

You’re keening under his praise, his compliments silky and stoking the blue flame in your belly. Though you want him desperately, the feeling of being desirable, irresistible even, is what sends a surge of arousal coursing through your body.

“Close your eyes,” he purrs, hands grazing the skin of your calf gently. “I’m going to correct your story.”

You wonder if you misheard him, and all at once your brain short circuits when you understand his implication. I would use my fingers and then my mouth to make my girl come.

There’s no time to react before his lips are pressing softly to the skin of your leg. The whiskers of his beard tickle as he works his way upward, inching closer and closer to his true target. He spends a few moments mouthing at the inside of your thighs, satisfied at the sound of your whimpers and the way your legs perch on either side of his shoulders.

“If I recall correctly, you weren’t wearing any panties,” he says in between kisses pressed directly against your core, lips warm on the damp fabric. “But I think I like being the one to take them off myself.”

To prove it, JT hooks his fingers in the waistband of your underwear, covering each inch of skin that he reveals with kisses, along your hips and over your pelvis, slipping the material down your legs and off of your feet. You’re completely naked, and you’ve never felt more comfortable being bare around a man for the first time. You can’t help it, not with the way his eyes rove over you like he’s watching a magnificent Santorini sunset or maybe even the Stanley Cup being lifted in his Captain’s hands for the first time.

“So fuckin’… gorgeous.”

And then his fingertip is dragging along your slit, through your slick, and you gasp when he dips inside you. His lips attach themselves to your inner thigh, kissing the tender skin while he works his finger into you. There’s no barrier, not with how fucking wet you are, and he groans at the feeling of your tight heat squeezing just his pointer finger. You’re thinking it, and surely he is, too—the way it will feel when he’s pressing his length into you. You wait desperately in anticipation for that feeling.

JT is patient, eventually adding two fingers to your dripping heat. A cry leaves your throat when he curls upward, pressing against that delicious spot that has your hand clutching the comforter beneath you. Feeling his smile against your leg, you whisper his name, a plea to keep going, don’t stop. This has been an orgasm nearly two years in the making—longer, if you consider the length of your crush—and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stave it off, even if it comes embarrassingly fast. Pun intended.

He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, if the low hum and eager eyes are any indicator. Greedily, he watches your face as the wave of pleasure washes over you, like he’s memorizing the sight of it. Once you’ve come down, breath coming out of your mouth in heavy puffs, he pulls his fingers out to inspect, then presses them into his mouth to taste. A moan escapes his lips that sends a fresh flood of moisture to your core.

“Perfect,” he murmurs.

Your legs are jelly, your mind complete mush, but something in you itches to touch him, and your hand reaches for him. He stops you, and for a brief moment you’re afraid you did something wrong, that your dream is finally going to come crashing to an end, but he’s smiling as he shakes his head at you.

“What did I say? Fingers first, and then…”

Your voice is hoarse, swallowing thickly before you manage to choke out, “M-mouth?”

“Good memory,” he says with a wink that nearly sends you tumbling off the bed.

Large hands gently take your legs and spread them wider, granting him the space to settle onto his belly. JT presses kisses along your inner thighs, tracing the same place he’d run his lips along before, murmuring, “You good?”

Great. Excellent. Incredible. The words can’t come out, so instead you’re nodding. Finally, you manage to get out, “Yes. More than good.”

He’s pleased, smiling when he takes the opportunity to finally delve into your folds. If you thought he was a good kisser—he is—his mouth is just as talented elsewhere, his tongue tracing along your entrance in teasing circles. It flicks, laves, licks, drinking in everything your sopping cunt has to offer, eager to taste more of your sweetness.

The feeling of his groan against you makes you clench around his tongue, and he uses his hands to pin your hips down and repeat the action, humming against you to send vibrations coursing through your body. His beard scratches your thighs, and you hope that the burn lingers for days so you can remember the feeling long after his scent has faded from your sheets.

When his tongue finds your clit, you let out a loud mewl, hands flying into the now-mussed fringes of his hair. It’s nothing short of an assault, lips and tongue working in tandem to flick the bud, shooting waves of pleasure all the way to the tips of your fingers and your toes. He’s good, seeking out the nuances that make you croon, yearning to feel your fingertips scratching against his scalp.

Your eyes flutter shut, unable to focus on anything other than the sinful way his tongue glides along your center, drinking your nectar like a man quenching his desperate thirst, hardly believing that JT Compher’s tongue is in your pussy. He sighs out, the sound far more lewd than it should be, catching his breath before diving back in. You’re close, you can feel it approaching, revved up by the fact that he’s literally recreating a long-time fantasy you’ve had in your head about him for years.

The sound he exhales is nothing short of magical, indulgent in itself as he groans at the taste of you. No man has ever been this good at it, let alone thoroughly enjoyed it. With just the deliciously wicked practiced motion of his tongue, he’s transporting you to the eighth wonder of the world, transcending the highest levels of pleasure; your heart already aches at the thought that he’ll have to stop, eventually. As if he can hear your thoughts in your head, his hands grip at your hips tightly, unwilling to part from you now that his face is buried in your cunt.

“JT,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “Please, don’t stop.”

He hums, your plea igniting a fiery determination in him. You can hear how sodden your folds are, the sound of his tongue lapping you up audible even despite the moans that tumble out of your mouth along with soft sighs of his name. JT doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, you think he’s enjoying it almost as much as you are, if his wanton groans are any indication.

“Sound so pretty when you say my name,” he murmurs against you. “Sound even prettier when you come.”

This time, your orgasm hits you like a freight train, an explosion of euphoria before you even have a change to realize it’s happening. Your hips buck wildly against his face, uncontrollable as the pleasure shoots through your system; his strong arms fight to hold you in place, keeping his mouth attached to you to soak up every last drop of your essence.

You feel the way your pussy throbs on his tongue, hear the way he moans at the sensation. He stays still, ensuring he drags out your high for as long as he can, only pulling away once your legs fall open and your body relaxes, spent. When he does, he grins at you, and you feel a pull when you notice that the whiskers of his beard are damp with your arousal.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he blurts out.

“I was thinking the same about you,” you reply with a weak smile, coated in a layer of bliss. You mean it; the thought has been repeating in your mind ever since you saw the flash of red hair across the bar.

His hand finds yours, tugging your body close to his as both of you pause to catch your breath. It’s intimate, almost more than when he had his tongue buried in your cunt, basking in the afterglow together. If he wants to keep going, he makes no indication, content to lay with you for the rest of the night with no expectation of moving further.

You want to, though, when the haze finally clears a bit and you remember the way his cock felt between your legs, rigid and tempting and wicked in its promise.

JT’s eyes glitter when he sees the way you’re looking at him, crawling over him to connect your lips with his again, far too long since they touched you last. Your hands are quick with his belt, and you feel the heat of his gaze on you, watching you, waiting for your reaction while he helps you shuck his shorts down his legs. His arousal, thick and firm, is tucked into the navy boxer briefs that do little to hide his decency, and your mouth waters at seeing its outline straining against the fabric. Your heart flutters at the sight of it, hardly believing that you’re here and this is real; that he’s hard just for you. The NASA certified rocket.

As much as you want to remove the cotton barrier between you and his dick, you can’t resist the urge to press your lips against him through the material. He groans, savoring the feeling of your mouth on him, twitching when you lick a wet stripe down his length.

When your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and free him from the confines, you let out an audible whimper when his erection springs against his belly. It’s divine, flawless in every sense of the word, a bead of sticky, delicious precum pooling at the tip.

“Is it like what you expected?” he asks, mostly joking but, admittedly, a little curious.

You resist the urge to laugh, though a smile plays at your lips. If only you could put into words how beautiful, how surreal, how exquisite he is. But nothing comes. Instead, you run your palm along his length, familiarizing your touch with the velvety skin, memorizing the weight of him in your hand.

Then, with a light squeeze that chokes a groan out of him, you purr, “It’s perfect.”

JT’s chest puffs up at your admission, perhaps with confidence and a little bit of an ego. Not that he shouldn’t have one; he’s a Stanley Cup champion bedding a woman who has desired to have him for years. It’s what every athlete dreams of, deep down, buried beneath layers of modesty and humility.

He pushes his hips forward and you pull away, smiling at him as if to say, Not yet. With weak limbs, you slink off the edge of the bed, kneeling on the soft, plush rug and looking up at him expectantly. It takes a millisecond for it to click, but then he’s scrambling off the bed, too, rising to his full height as he kicks his shorts the remainder of the way off his legs. Finally, he’s fully naked, and you take a moment to admire the expanse of pale skin, tinged with sprinkles of dark hair, smattered across his chest, along his toned arms, down the muscular surface of his thighs.

“My God, you’re gorgeous,” you mutter, barely even realizing the words slipped out.

The smirk on his face returns, preening, and he reaches down to stroke his length with a large hand—the same one that brought you to your first climax of the night; his fingers still have the slight sheen from your arousal, catching just so in the light that shines through the bedroom window. Your eyes are glued to him, watching the way he pulls, slowly, leisurely; it’s insanely erotic, and you feel a pool of wetness between your legs, wondering if you’re going to ruin your rug. Not that you care, not with the way the world’s most beautiful cock is staring you straight in the face.

“Is this what you did when you read my story?”

His smirk grows, and you see a flash in his eyes. “You want to know what I thought about?”

“Fucking me in your locker room?” you ask cheekily.

JT laughs, nodding, “Yes, that was certainly a hot detail. And not opposed to making that a reality, too.”

For a moment, your heart flutters at the idea; not just at the thought of fucking him in the Detroit Red Wings locker room, but at the idea that he would do this again. This, when you haven’t even done it yet.

“What else?”

Eyes blazing, his free hand reaches forward to caress your cheek. His thumb catches on your lip, and you take it between your teeth, running your tongue along the digit.

“I thought about this,” he murmurs, and the velvety hum of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. “About getting these gorgeous lips on my cock. Fucking this smart mouth of yours, before I fuck your delicious, heavenly pussy.”

You whimper at his filthy words, and if you weren’t already on your knees, they would’ve given in. His thumb presses against your tongue, briefly, and you keep your eyes on his as you feel the pad of it gliding against you. Time has completely stopped, orbiting around you while JT Compher strokes his erection in your bedroom.

“Well,” you purr, “you made my fantasy come true; what do you say I return the favor?”

JT groans, nodding, not even bothering to come up with a clever quip back. You smile, pleased that for once you’ve rendered him speechless. And when he guides the head of his dick toward you, your mouth opens earnestly to welcome him.

He tastes like heaven, because of course he does. No dick tastes good—tolerable, sure, but never good— and yet, you find yourself craving more. Kitten licking his tip, you lap up the precum that’s blooming before dragging your tongue down his length. You press your lips in open-mouthed kisses along his base, flicking your tongue at the vein that throbs on the underside of his shaft, before you end up back at his head.

When you take him into your mouth, he lets out a sound that’s halfway between a moan and a whimper, and it fuels you to continue. You experiment, testing the swirl of your tongue paired with the bob of your head, seeing what will elicit the most delicious noises from his pretty throat. By no means are you a blowjob expert, but you’re determined to make sure this is the best one you’ll ever give; it has to be, since this is your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to blow his mind and make sure he never forgets you.

With a glance up at him, the sight is beautiful: his lips parted, cheeks flushed, a strand of hair falling over his face as he gazes down at you, drinking in the sight of you taking his cock between your lips.

“Fuck,” he curses, threading a hand through your hair. Your eyes lock with his, molten and dark, hinging your jaw to take more of him. Slowly, you do, pressing forward until you feel him bump the back of your throat.

With a hum, you repeat the action, gradually picking up the pace until the sounds that fill the room are nothing short of filthy; wet, sloppy, downright pornographic. Above it all, his delicious grunts of pleasure puncture through the noise, each one of them encouraging you to don’t stop, even despite the tears welling in your eyes.

“So pretty like this,” he rasps. Your heart soars, both at his praise and at the fact that he’s even more perfect than you dreamed, sprinkling in the perfect amount of chatter, filthy promises that have your pussy melting with lust. “You gonna let me fuck you now?”

His words have you imagining the feeling of his thick length pressing into you, spreading you open with steady, solid thrusts. There’s something insanely erotic about feeling the weight of him on your tongue, knowing that he’ll soon be stretching you out like you’ve been dreaming of for years.

“You want to ride me, baby? Like in the story?”

If your cunt wasn’t throbbing with need, you’d probably be melting at how erotically sweet it is that he’s paid such attention to detail in an attempt to make your dream come true. But your desire is more powerful, and the thought of bouncing yourself in his lap is too tempting to pass up, so you’re nodding eagerly, accepting his hand to pull you up to your feet.

JT tugs back the comforter on your bed, fluffing the pillows up to give him a soft back rest so he can sit up and watch you more closely.

“D’you—” he starts, then stutters when you perch yourself in his lap, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. His erection, still slick from your saliva, bobs between your bodies, pressed against your core and the mere friction has both of you groaning. Your hips roll against him, dragging your sopping wet folds over his length, and the feeling is enough to distract you both from whatever he was going to say.

Then, as if he’s fighting for his life, he chokes out, “D’you want me—want me to wear a—fuck—condom? I’m—m’clean.”

You hum, and you honestly, truly believe that you wouldn’t be able to part from him even if you did, not now that you know how his cock feels pressed against your clit. It’s electric, enough to send shockwaves through your entire system.

“No,” you say. “Want to know what it feels like when you come inside me.” You may never get the chance again.

JT moans, and the sound is so delicious, you pause for a brief second to commit it to memory. His hands fly to grip your hips, sucking in a breath when you grip his length and tease him against your slit. The feeling of his warm flesh against your most sensitive area is enough to drive you insane, eyes fluttering shut when just the tip brushes your waiting, eager entrance.

If you liked the sound of his moan, the sound he makes when you finally sink down on him is nothing short of divine. He fits inside you perfectly, and you think Michaelangelo himself couldn’t have sculpted his cock any better. The stretch of him is euphoric, fucking sublime, even more so when you start to move experimentally, feeling each ridge and vein sliding against your snug, warm walls.

Your hands fit into the dip of his shoulders, clutching onto him for dear life as your hips begin to move. A string of mumbled curses fall from his beautiful mouth, his eyes glued to where your bodies connect.

“JT,” you whisper, searching for the strength to finish your sentence, already weak for the pleasure shooting through each nerve ending in your body. “You’re so… feel so—fuck.”

He hums, pushing his hips up as if he knows exactly what you’re trying to say, agreeing wholeheartedly with the sentiment. “You feel like fuckin’ heaven, baby.”

It’s all you can manage to say, not that you could find the words even if you wanted to, so you opt to keep creating that divine, blooming feeling from his cock splitting open your cunt. Each pass is better than the last, and a fleeting thought in your head says that this is what porn actors act like they’re feeling, except it’s infinitely better because this time, the feeling is real. A symphony of moans, sighs of his name, low, grunted curses into the darkness fill the four walls of your room, the rest of the world oblivious to the transcendental experience happening. And what a shame.

Your thighs burn, a delicious heat that almost rivals the one that’s between your thighs. Almost. Yet again, you have the feeling that he’s read your mind when his hands grip the globes of your ass to aid your movements. His skin is hot, scorching against yours, and you wish that he’d leave burn marks, angry red handprints on your ass so you can see them in the morning to prove this isn’t all a delicious dream.

Another cry leaves your mouth when you feel his lips press against your breast, unable to resist the temptation of them heaving and swaying in front of his face. He groans, too, savoring the feeling of it in his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue.

With his strong arms helping the way you bounce in his lap, your hand is free to trail down your stomach, fingers itching to touch your aching, singing clit. JT feels the press of your knuckles against his pelvis, tearing himself away from your breast for just a moment to glance down at the way you press the pad of your finger against yourself; the sight makes him groan and thrust his hips upward to drive even deeper into your pussy.

“Oh my God,” you cry, unsure if the coil inside you can wind any tighter. Of course, it does, with every push into your insatiable, greedy walls.

At hearing your moans lilt higher, he mouths around your nipple, “Fuck yeah, baby, that’s it.”

His encouragement is enough to give you the strength to ride him to high heaven, chasing that feeling of euphoria. The sounds that slip out of his throat are delicious, low murmurs of praise ticking you closer and closer to the cliff that you’re hurtling towards with no helmet, no seatbelt, no nothing, prepared to fly across the edge and free fall into oblivion.

“J—” your warning cry is cut off by the force of your climax, an explosion of color dancing inside of your eyes that are squeezed shut. Everything nearly fades to black, all sound, sight, touch going dim save for the ecstasy that fills each and every one of your cells, heightening the bliss that floods your mind.

Five seconds, minutes, or maybe even hours later, your senses return and you realize you’re panting, fingers clutching the meat of his shoulders while your hips stutter atop him. As your high subsides, you feel the way your walls clench around him, and you slowly relax your grip on him, feeling the harsh indentations from your fingernails in his skin.

“Holy shit, that was fuckin’... insane,” JT says breathlessly, looking up at you hotly. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, swear to God.”

You laugh—or try to, anyways, but the sound doesn’t quite make it out—and you realize your body is still tingling as he rubs gentle circles into your hip with his thumbs. Wordlessly, JT soothes you, bringing you back to earth slowly with gentle kisses dotted across your chest like an intricate constellation.

“You good?”

You nod blissfully and he pauses, pulling back to lock eyes with you. “Can you say it, please?”

“M’good, JT,” you say, sounding less confident than you feel. “Promise. Want you… t’come. Please.”

Heat flares back up in his eyes and you feel him twitch deep inside of you. Your muscles instinctively contract around him and he groans before he’s wrapping his arms around you to tenderly turn you around and lay you on your back. The softness of the mattress is welcome beneath your muscles, your body aching with the most delicious exhaustion.

His body looms over you, large and indulgently intimidating. Quick to slip back into you, JT’s hips roll with a new intensity now that he’s made you come, now that he’s completely transported you to another galaxy—another universe entirely. Dark eyes gaze into yours, like he can’t get enough of you; the feeling is mutual, you think, and you attempt to tell him so by wrapping your legs around his waist, sliding your hands up the muscles in his back. In another life, you hope you get to spend more time exploring each dip and ridge and curve of the body he’s spent so much time working on, a slight tinge of sadness that you won’t get to appreciate him in all his glory for much longer.

“Fuck,” his voice is barely intelligible with his mouth now buried in the curve of your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, every nerve already alight from your orgasm. “Y’r gonna fuckin’ milk me dry, baby. God damn. Squeezin’ me so tight.”

He’s close, you can tell, by the choked curses and short groans that spill from his throat, lips openly mouthing along your jaw. And just as his hips begin to stutter, he kisses you deeply, moaning his release into your mouth just as you feel hot spurts spilling inside of you. It’s far more intimate than you expect, so connected to him everywhere as he touches his own euphoria; you can’t help but moan again at the communion.

With a last twitch of his hips, JT slumps over, hot and heavy breath panting as he rests his head on your collarbone. He’s still completely sheathed within you, and you can feel the way he twitches as he comes down from his high, the way liquid seeps out of your cavern. Your walls hug him snugly, content to stay wrapped around him forever.

It’s your turn to return the favor, running a soft hand along his back as he catches his breath, and after awhile he slips out of you with a regretful whimper; you instantly miss him, even though he slumps beside you on the bed, hand blindly finding yours in the darkness.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life,” he confesses with a wry chuckle. The admission makes you preen with pride, an achievement you’re sure you’ll never top.

“I thought the same,” you reply slowly. “But then you did it again. And again.”

JT, too, is ruffled with a smug pride. “Once I get the feeling back in my legs, I’ll do it again.”

Your brain short circuits at the promise, barely able to comprehend getting to feel that euphoria again. “JT, you don’t have to—”

“You think I don’t wanna do that again?”

His question makes you shy, as if he wasn’t just buried inside you, like his cum isn’t seeping out of your cunt at this exact moment. You tug the sheet over your chest, toying with the edge of it. “I just… I meant that you don’t have to keep up the act. And you don’t—you don’t have to stay, either, if you don’t want to.”

JT’s warm hand lays over yours, stopping you from picking at the material between your fingers. He waits until you glance over at him, even more beautiful under his post-coital glow. “I like morning sex too much to leave.”

He rolls off your bed with a grunt, and you sneak a long look at his perfect, perky ass as he strides freely through your room to your closet door that he confidently opens thinking it’s your bathroom. You giggle, then point him toward the other door, and he sends you a sheepish grin before he disappears into your bathroom. The ghost of his touch lingers over your skin, feeling the delicious ache between your thighs as you listen to the sound of the sink running, of him opening and closing your cabinet drawers, undoubtedly searching for something.

A few moments later he’s back, and this time you have a full frontal view of his nudity, appreciating the god-like figure walking back toward you. The moonlight illuminates his pale skin, his hair looking so dark it almost looks brown as he gently tugs back the sheet covering your modesty. With the warm, damp washcloth in his hand, he is careful as he wipes down your thighs, biting his lip when he sees his essence dripping out of you.

After tossing the cloth in your sink, he slips back into bed beside you and you have to resist the urge to stare at him. He pulls you into his arms, and you deeply inhale his scent, memorizing the way it feels to ensure you’ll never forget it.

“By the way, there is no act. This is the real deal.”

The light peeking through the blinds is what wakes you, a few moments spent blinking away the sleep before the memory of last night floods back into your psyche. Warmth spreads through your body as the scene unfolds in your mind, remembering the whispers of your name, the way plush lips felt on your skin, the delicious stretch between your legs.

Stretching your sore muscles, it’s only then that you realize the space beside you on the mattress is empty. Your hand presses against the sheets to find them cold. With a frown, your heart sinks.

That’s it, you think, the dream is over.

You allow the disappointment and defeat to wash over you, tightness welling in your throat—of course it was too good to be true; a guy like that would never stay to the morning, not with someone like you. Still, you can’t deny that it stings; he’d seemed so genuine. There is no act. This is the real deal. But, you remind yourself, he was trying to get in your pants.

And he had. And it had been… marvelous. Ethereal. Celestial, even. But he’d gotten what he wanted and bolted out as soon as you fell asleep, which is deep down what you had expected.

You wallow in self-pity for a few moments, letting the smarting tears sting your eyes before you heave yourself out of bed with a glance in the mirror to make sure you hadn’t entirely dreamt it. But the fevered marks on your neck and swollen lips confirm that you hadn’t, which ultimately makes your heart sink a little further.

Digging into your dresser drawer with a heavy sigh, you pull out your favorite vintage Red Wings sweatshirt, something you’ve had since childhood. It’s oversized, which is why it’s become a staple in your wardrobe all these years later; you don’t bother slipping on underwear.

When you open the door from your bedroom, you yelp involuntarily at seeing the figure standing in your kitchen. Your eyes are drawn to the messy, russet hair and the pale skin, and all at once the identity of the stranger in your home registers.

“JT?”

Whipping around, you’re met with his sleepy eyes and a warm smile. “Hey, good morning. I hope you don’t mind I dug around your kitchen to make some breakfast.”

You gape at him, staring at him even as he slides a mug of coffee across the counter toward you. Then, seeing your shock, he laughs, shifting the frying pan off the burner before he steps toward you. It’s not until his warm hands wrap around your waist that you register he is, in fact, really still here, and now he’s leaning in to kiss you. His lips are plush, familiar now, and you barely have the chance to savor the feeling before he’s pulling away.

“You thought I left?”

“Well… yeah.” The question makes you shy, like you’re airing out your insecurities with a guy you just met. A guy you’ve never spoken to when the sun is up. A guy you’ve barely spoken to while sober.

A slow smile curls onto his face, eyes crinkling in that sweet way that makes your heart melt. “I told you, I’m not the hot shot player you seem to think I am. And I think you’re really, really…”

Your eyebrows raise when he lets out a sigh, gazing off like he’s searching for the right word.

“Well, let’s just say I really want to see you again. If you want to.”

“Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”

JT smiles, amused at your refusal to believe his interest in you is real. Instead of speaking, though, he opts to cup your jaw between his hands, pulling you toward him to press his lips against yours in a slow, sensual kiss. It brings back a flood of memories and feelings and sensations from the night before, almost like he’s reminding you of the spark that’s undeniable between you.

When he pulls away, you’re thankful that his hands return to your waist, for your knees are a little wobbly and your vision is a little cloudy. But then, he pushes his hips forward against your front so you can feel the unmistakable sign of his interest pressed against your abdomen. “Does this feel like a prank?”

Your reply is a strangled sound, unintelligible, and he smiles. “I was very serious when I said I want to do that over and over again. But I’m also serious about wanting to see you again. Maybe you’ll come to dinner with me, sometime? I believe you still owe me the rest of my tour of Detroit.”

It takes a moment for you to speak again, but something in the sincerity of his voice finally has you shifting to reality, and after a third mental photograph, you quip, “Depending on your omelet skills, I may need to show you Detroit’s best breakfast first.”

“To be honest with you, after seeing you in this t-shirt, I’m way more interested in having you for breakfast.”

With a cheeky smile, you say, “I never said it wasn’t me.”

Tag list: @somuchf4rstardust @tpwkstiles @smileysvech @senditcolton @robindrake13 @laurenairay

#jt compher fic #jt compher imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #jt compher smut #a dream come true

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