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bakugosbratx · 3 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger — Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+Content. Alcohol, cheating, toxic relationship, kinda Stockholm syndrome kinda not, angst, fighting, rough sex, degrading, etc.

Tags: @nymphoheretic @cupids-soul @sickchildren

Words: 2,019

Not beta read

Eren Jeager.

He’s not someone you would want to bring home to your mother. In fact, he’s someone your mother would warn you to remain far away from. If you had any brain cells left in that thick head of yours, you would learn your lesson by now. He was nothing but trouble and some part of you loved that about him.

The way Eren can make up for all those broken promises with just one breathtaking kiss. His tongue dancing with yours as his large hands squeeze your ass, you can’t help but feel intoxicated.

“Miss me?” Eren asked with a devious smirk. Did he actually care if you missed him or not? Most likely not, but it did not matter as you disrobed on your way to your mattress. “Yes, so much.” You breathed. You are quick to forget about your last fight and how you two haven’t talked for a month and a half.

You are quick to help remove his black hoodie, discarding it to the floor with his t-shirt quickly following. Pulling away from your lips, he lays you down onto the bed as he leads your hand to his jeans. You can already feel his cock rising as you palm him with greedily little fingers. Eren’s selfish desires quickly consume you. There is no hesitation about this as you set him free for him to take advantage of your hole.

Eren still had fresh scratches on his chest and back from his last sexual encounter before he arrived here, but you were too much in heaven to care. You could easily ignore the hickeys the last person left just a couple hours before. You have done it so many times before. For now, your focus is on you two.

Eren’s cock is deep into your guts, his long hair out of his hair tie as you entangle your fingers into his luscious strands. You just slide the black hair tie on your wrist while your nails dig down Eren’s back.

“Keep your damn claws to yourself.” Eren growled as he restrained your wrist above your head. “I taught you better than to mark me.”

All you could do is blubber incoherent sentences as Eren’s strokes became too much to handle. Your back arches as your toes curl from the intense pressure. It was a blessing and a curse to be Eren’s favorite fuck toy. The sex was always amazing.

That’s just the honest truth.

Eren knew all your favorite spots. With every thrust, it was a painful yet beautiful bliss. No one else could touch your soul like he can. And he was good at claiming you, though, he was not one who wanted commitment. No one could fuck you, but him.

The negative was, well, everything. Nobody can please you like him. Everything Eren wanted, he got. It didn’t matter how long he was gone for and what venomous words that flew from his mouth; Eren always got what he wanted. The saddest part was that you knew this was going to happen. Eren’s dirty laundry was always the talk of the town yet, here you are, moaning his name.

“Eren, please, I’m going to—“

“You better fuckin’ not.” Eren threatened with a harsh slap to your face. The adrenaline was only bringing you closer to your high. “Y’know you don’t get to cum unless I say so. Don’t fuckin’ act stupid.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You murmur out as your eyes roll back. Eren’s cock was already leaking pre-cum into your depths, your organs absorbing it like so many times before.

Eren’s eyes remained on you. As much as you loved to be praised, Eren was not the praising type. Especially in the bedroom. Your reward was him. His attention, his presence, his cock deep in you. You should be so grateful to even be used by him. Though, if you only knew that each time Eren abused your tight little hole, his eyes would scan your naked body to make sure nobody else marked what is his.

Sure, you are single. You can date, talk, fuck anyone you want. No one can tell you otherwise. Eren does whatever he wants, why can’t you do the same?

You made that mistake once.

Consumed by alcohol and the rhythm, you swayed your hips right into the hands of an attractive man. A man known as Jean who had the hots for you for as long as you could remember. You have turned him down and his advances quite a few times, but tonight, you felt a bit frisky. Plus, you had to watch Eren flirt, kiss, and so many other things with pretty girls.

Was it out of spite? Potentially. Eren has already told you many times you are nothing more than a fuck toy. You are reminded every time he comes and goes out of your front door yet your heart fell for his beautiful smile that was hardly ever present, his voice that was so cold yet was so hot, and those beautiful green eyes that knew how to look right through your soul. He read every single page of you without you even telling him to.

Eren knew you like the back of his hand. He knew when you were at your weakest for him. Being deprived of his attention for so long made you practically on your knees for him. You would do anything he wanted just for him to stay a little longer.

“So fuckin’ pathetic,” Eren would always remind you as your limp body take more and more of him. You are so tired, mentally and physically, from how much you have been used yet you’ll give up every ounce of yourself to make Eren stay. “You’ll give up your own morals and happiness just to keep me, huh?” He scornfully chuckled. His words had nothing to do with the intercourse, but you both knew he was correct. You would throw away so much just to be with Eren.

It really was so fuckin’ pathetic, Y/N.

And you knew it.

However, your heart forever ached for Eren. Every female he gave attention to that was not you was another stab to your back. So many knives rested in your spine leaving you forever paralyzed in agony. Overtime, it should not hurt as bad, but your pillowcase full of bitter tears and playlist full of sad songs say otherwise. How can someone who can see right through you not even feel an ounce of love for you? Someone who knew your entire soul from just touching your soft skin; how can there not be love present there?

Maybe you were just too cock drunk to see the tiniest glimmers of care in Eren’s eyes for you. You just chalked it up to be all in your head. That’s what Eren made you believe anyways and those glares from across the room whenever Jean’s hands rested on your hips were just the vodka talking. Everything is just an illusion.

As your painted colored lips twirled with Jean’s, your eyes closing in hopes you could imagine it was Eren. You could practically feel his cologne fill your nostrils at the thought only for your orbs to abruptly open. You let out a gasp when you find Jean on the ground and an angry Eren standing in front of you.

“E-Eren—“ you muttered in shock. Eren glared at you. You could not process what even happened when Eren began storming out. You are quick to follow, ignoring the crowd.

“Eren! Wait—“

Eren stopped a few meters ahead of you, his back still turned to you. “What did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was calm, but you could feel the bitterness coated in the way he spoke your name.

You arched a brow. Eren has told you many things. Many of them were either not appropriate or cruel words you have fought hard to forget. Any instance of sweetness that ever came from Eren was just pillowtalk.

‘I just say it because I know it gets you off,’ he would always shrug along with other similar excuses when you would question his motives. You are just friends with benefits, sure, but the subtle brushes of each other’s hands when you both go to turn up the music in his car send electricity running through you both. And if you two are just friends with benefits, why do you know how Eren takes his coffee and his favorite childhood video games? Oh, and why does Eren, at times, find excuses not to leave? Laying beside you, your head on his muscular chest, his fingers entangled in your hair, your soft snores soothing his rapid heartbeat.

Only for you to wake up all alone.

You always end up alone.

“Can you not hear?” Eren hissed, bringing you back to the question at hand. “I asked you a question. Y’know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’m yours.” You gulped, attempting to swallow the words before they evacuated your mouth. The two delicate words were barely above a murmur between the loud music and drunken chatter, but the frigid air between you and Eren silenced out the world and those two words echoed in each other’s ear drums.

The wind picked up, suffocating you. Eren had so many emotions roaring within him. He will never be one to settle down. He will never be the one to be able to take you on all the lavish dates you deserved. You can lie all you want and claim it does not matter, but Eren knew you deserved that. It’s not from lack of money, status, or time, but rather that is not in Eren’s nature.

No matter how hard he wanted to try, he could not be the man he wanted him so bad to be. He saw how you gazed at him with stars in your eyes and as much as he wanted to match the potential you desperately wanted him to be, he just couldn’t.

Yet, here you two stood. Those two words have such a major effect on each of you. Secretly, and loudly, you have always had a faithfulness to Eren and he feasted on that. He thrived that he could have you hanging on the line while he did whatever he pleased. It was not fair. Even Eren knew that, but his immature ways tend to always win.

Eren gazed over his shoulder, “and don’t you forget it.”

You were frozen as you watched Eren walk to his car. So many questions that remained unanswered all this time later. You wanted to believe this was Eren’s complicated way of displaying his love for you and if you were not manipulated as usual by him, your hunch would have been correct.

You two did not speak about that encounter.

As Eren finished in you, your eyes glossed over in pure bliss. Your leaking hole was always the best. No doubt about it. That’s what he tells himself on the reason why he keeps coming back to you. And that must be the reason why he is crawling into bed beside you, hugging your exhausted body close as you quickly fall into a deep slumber.

Maybe this time Eren would not slip out into the night. Maybe he would let you be conscious enough to hear his heartbeat race while in your presence. Maybe, just maybe, he can stay the night. That is not too much of a commitment, right?

It’s just one night.

One night that was not tonight. Eren caressed your beautiful face one more time before making the difficult decision to climb out of your bed, careful not to wake you, put on his clothing that was still scattered on your hardwood floor, and cover up your naked body with your duvet. Kissing your temple, embracing the beauty you are from the moonlight illuminating your room from the window.

Eren wanted so badly to climb back beside you, hold you and keep you safe, but as always, he sneaked out into the night, leaving you all alone.

#eren #eren jeager #aot #aot eren #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren smut #eren yeager #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n

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littleseasiren · 6 months

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Melting

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: Approximately 500 words

A/N: Flufftober Prompt 24: Melting emoji Thanks @flufftober for this challenge. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Thanks for reading!

"Jeez! This heat wave is going to kill us!" You complain from next to the fridge, rolling an ice-cold Coke can down your chest to cool down.

Natasha groans with you before she grabs a pillow from the couch and throws it at Tony, hitting him dead in the face.

"Hey! What's that for?" Tony grabs the pillow and drops it to the floor.

"You - being so stupid! Why did you choose to renovate the pool this week?" Natasha was usually laid back, but today's heat was getting to her, making her green eyes sparkle with irritation.

"Exactly! You're renovating when we need it the most!" You can't help but jump in. You needed to do something to get this pressure off your chest, and making Tony angry is one way of distracting you from it.

"How was I supposed to know we'd have a heat wave?" Tony shouts from across the room, his goatee crunched up as he glares at the two of you.

"I thought the great Tony Stark could do anything, even predict a heat wave with all his fancy technology. Maybe you're losing your touch," Bucky says as he drops down onto the couch, arms and legs splayed wide open to cool down as much as possible, grasping a bottle of water in his right hand.

"Don't get started with me, Cyborg! You were in the freezer for years. If anyone was enjoying this heat, I'd think it would be you!"

"I don't think anyone can enjoy feeling like this, Tony. I'm tempted to go into cryo just to sleep through the heat wave. Although I'd have to take off my arm..." He rubs his chin in thought as he gazes at his left arm.

You see the moment the same thought enters Natasha's mind, both of your eyes falling on Bucky's arm. You run to the couch and jump over the backrest, planning on landing next to him on the couch. You misjudge the space and end up jumping on a surprised Bucky's lap, happy when strong arms wrap around your waist to steady you. A second later you look up, Natasha glaring at you less than a foot away. You can't help but giggle when she gives you the death stare.

Grabbing Bucky's vibranium arm, you sigh in relief as you wrap your small hands around his large arm and lean into him, sighing as the cooler temperature touches your warm chest. When Natasha scowls at you, you can't help but smirk at her. "Good thing he's my boyfriend!" She huffs in response then reluctantly sits on the tiled floor.

When you look up at Bucky, his expression is full of joy. His eyes sparkle as he watches you hold onto his left arm like you plan to never let go. When everyone was afraid of what his vibranium arm could do, you chose to see the best in him and accept him as he was. He was overjoyed to have you in his life, even when you were making his temperature rise in a sweltering heat wave. He would suffer through anything, as long as you were holding him like you are now.

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mechformers · 1 year

Text

Ma Miles - Ch. 17

9.5k words

Chapter warning: Oh gosh, where do I even start... Wound cleaning and dressing, "sponge bath", grief, panic attack, Mo'at should be a warning in and of herself lol, what did I even write??? I am not responsible for anything that happens in chapter 17 alright! Oh, boner alert... Come to think of it - I guess Quaritch's horrible flirting should be a warning too

So... this got a bit longer and later than I had intended lol I would absolutely love any and all comments you would want to give me, be it a clean "neat" or an unintelligible long ramble!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 18

The sea gently laps against the roots below your kelku, the sound soothing as you sit cross-legged in your nest, staring down at your sleeping son while you run your fingers over your songcord, the new beads bringing deep sorrow to your heart. Pressing your voice through your lips, the sound fills the kelku as you sing, remembering each bead as you go. Spider smiles in his sleep and it makes your heart soar within your chest. Your son was safe once more, removed from the dangers that had surrounded you for far too long. Finishing your songcord, you’re surprised to see Jake Sully standing in the doorway, a conflicted expression on his bruised face. Smiling gently at him, you welcome him to sit by your nest with a nod of your head.

“Are they -” Jake tries, his voice breaking as he tries to reel in the conflict raging within him, “The addition was beautiful, I’m sorry I listened in on it without your permission,”

“Who they were with us meant something to me, Jake Sully,” You hum as you look down at the bead between your fingers that represents the recom unit.

“Just call me Jake, Y/n. We have known each other long enough by now,” Jake offers, his voice gentle as he watches you turn the bead between your fingers once more. “How is he?”

“The demon has not moved,” You growl pathetically as your ears flatten against your skull and your tail trashes angrily behind you.

“Yeah, he had that effect on people,” Jake chuckles softly even though he looks uncomfortable.

“What effect?” You huff out a little harsher than you had intended to.

“The anger and frustration that you’re feeling, I don’t think there’s anyone he’s ever crossed paths with who hasn’t felt the same,” The words are meant to bring you comfort, yet, as the realization sets in, it only brings you immense sadness.

Had the demon really been like this to everyone he ever met? Had he really had no one by his side that he could have been himself with? He must have… He managed to create Spider with a mate, after all. The thought sours your mood even more as your tail thrashes behind you. His unit seemed fond of him too, so he couldn’t have been completely alone.

“Tell me about him,” You hear yourself saying, your desperation to know more, to grab and hold onto anything that would point somewhere in the direction that all of this was just one big misunderstanding, clear in your voice.

“About the Colonel?” Jake does a double take, his eyes widening.

“Yes, tell me about him,” You confirm, turning your hopeful eyes to him, “Please,”

“Um… I don’t know what there is to say. You obviously know the important details,” Jake starts, his eyebrows furrowing with unease.

“That is not the important details. Who was he when he was not this Colonel?” You plead with him, the passion in your voice obviously enough to sway him.

“I didn’t know him for very long, but in the time before our relationship turned sour, he was a decent enough guy. Typical bonehead Marine, stern, direct, but behind all of that, he took care of his own,” Jake starts before taking a deep sigh. You smile at the way you recognize what Jake is describing.

“He would always go that extra mile for his people - for his family. But there was always this thing looming over him, a pressure that always had him moving forward, never quite standing still. If he wasn’t training the troops, giving safety briefings, or being in meetings, he was cooped up in his office doing paperwork until late at night.” The way Jake describes him makes the same sad feeling from before drape over you again. What Jake was describing was not a life…

“When he wasn’t at the base, he was always on the move. You see, Quaritch led from the frontline, always taking the first step to pave the path for his people, to make sure that it was the right line of motion.” Jake huffed before immediately freezing, the fond memory obviously not one he expected to have.

“Quaritch made a lot of horrible decisions as head of security for the RDA, but he always looked for the right path to take, the one that would lead to the smallest amount of casualties on both sides. You see, in basic training, you're taught to make quick decisions under fire. To view everything through the pinhole of surviving the moment.” Jake got a far-off look in his eyes and you got the feeling that there was more to the words than what you were talking about right now.

“When none of your choices are good, you make the best of the bad ones. There's no room for second-guessing. No time for regret.” Jake continues before meeting your eyes head-on, ”That comes later. A luxury for the living, so to say."

“Quaritch was no exception. I could see it in his eyes after a bad mission. It was in the way he snapped at people or avoided the big bosses at all possible costs. He would try his best to hide it, but it was in everything he did for many days after.” The words felt hollow as Jake spoke them. Although you understand them, you can't quite wrap your head around the action behind them.

“Why did he not refuse to do these missions?” You can’t help but ask, immediately noticing how Jake shakes his head as he huffs a humorless chuckle.

“It didn’t - doesn’t - work like that, Y/n.” He quickly corrects himself and you get the dawning feeling that he’s speaking from experience. “Once you got a job that paid well enough, you needed to dig your claws in to keep it. Earth, the planet we were from, has become hostile, our Great Mother brutally murdered by the greed of the few, and the desperation to simply just survive of the many. If you were lucky enough to get a job on Pandora, you made sure to keep it. Besides, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Everyone is replaceable for the RDA - if Quaritch had refused, another, possibly worse, person would have simply just taken his place and done it anyway,”

What Jake says is disturbing, sending chills down your spine. Did the sky people really treasure life that poorly? Did they really just replace each other if someone refused to do what was obviously wrong? You stare back at Jake with big eyes as the silence stretches on.

“You know, I hadn’t really thought about it that way before,” Jake starts, another conflicted look crossing his face. “Quaritch valued loyalty above all else, didn’t matter who you were or who you had been. When he accepted you into his unit, that was a clean slate for you, a new chance at life for when you rotated back home.”

“His values do not excuse his actions,” Mo’at grounds from behind you, making the both of you turn your heads in her direction, only to see Tonowari standing by her side with his arms crossed.

“Tsahìk,” You greet Mo’at, before looking at Tonowari, “Olo’eyktan, I see you,”

“How is your son?” Tonowari asks, his uncertain eyes looking at Spider’s sleeping form.

“Spider is doing well, Olo’eyktan,” Your little kelku feels crowded with the five of you inside, but it means little when Mo’at huffs and presses past Tonowari.

“Spider is going to be a great hunter, a mighty warrior. You do not need to worry about him,” Your Tsahìk looks so proud as she speaks about your son, her head held high as she walks over to the supplies she left the day before. “Y/n, we have lessons to get to,”

“Yes, Tsahìk,” You mumble as you hurry over to her side, bending your head as you pass Tonowari.

“I guess that is our cue to leave,” Jake chuckles as he gets to his own feet.

“I specifically remember giving you an order to be with your family today, to not let me see you moving around,” Tonowari rumbles as he crosses his massive arms over his equally massive chest while pinning Jake with a harsh stare.

“What can I say, my friend…” Jake grins as he spreads his arms, palms up.

“How Neytiri deals with you is beyond me,” Tonowari chuckles, rolling his eyes as he shakes his head. Wrapping an arm around Jake’s shoulders, the bigger man steers Jake’s smaller body out of the marui pod.

“How has his rest been?” Mo’at asks while laying supplies on a woven mat before her.

“His rest has been sure, Tsahìk,” You reply before sitting down beside her, taking the mortar she has offered you.

“And yours?” Mo’at’s knowing eyes pierce through you as you sigh deeply.

“Troubled,” You eventually respond honestly, knowing that the older woman would know whether you replied or not.

“If you are to heal the demon, you will need to be rested. I do not share my lessons with just anyone, Y/n” Mo’at’s voice leaves no room for argument.

If you were being honest with yourself, you felt gratitude for getting the chance to learn from the Tsahìk herself. With no particular skills of your own, you had been shuffled around to where there was a need for extra hands, your whole life. It wasn’t as if you were untalented, you just hadn’t found the right path for you. But maybe going through tsakarem, for however long it would be taught to you, would be the missing link in your life, finally offering you a chance to be useful to your clan.

For the following week, Mo’at teaches you how to crush ingredients into different textures, teaches you what herbs would help with healing wounds specific to the demon’s injuries, and how to assess his condition throughout the day as he lay unconscious. It’s incredibly hard work, but somehow, you make it work. Spider is gone most of the day anyway, so instead of sitting alone in the kelku to watch over the demon, you welcome the older woman’s guidance.

“You have done well,” Mo’at hums one afternoon after you cleaned and redressed the demon’s wounds.

Whatever Mo’at was feeding him sure kick-started his weight gain. As if you hadn’t been struggling before, the demon grew heavier and heavier with each day that went by, making cleaning his body extremely difficult. The awkward positions you had found yourself in while buckling under his weight would have you blushing for years to come. Mo’at’s voice still rings clear in your ears when she commented that modesty had no room in a Tsahìk’s life. Sighing deeply, you had powered through, but with his growing deadweight, it had taken longer and longer to complete the task.

“Wait, was that an actual compliment I heard?” Jake’s voice calls from the doorway, his grin spreading lazily across his face as he looks at Mo’at.

The older woman huffs fondly, the smallest of smiles pulling on her lips while she tries to ignore her daughter’s mate. Jake chuckles as he walks further inside, his long legs swaying lazily as he comes to a crouch before you.

“Do you need help with him?” He smiles down at you as you struggle to lift the demon into place.

“She must need to learn how to do this alone,” Mo’at hums as she walks around your kelku, her eyes sharp following your every move as you struggle to get the demon back in his makeshift nest.

“I’m fine, Jake,” You smile up at him as you shift your hold on the demon, “Thank you,”

“Alright,” Jake just chuckles as he looks up at Mo’at.

“Can you take Y/n to the cove of ancestors?” Mo’at asks, making both of your heads snap to her position by the seaside opening of the marui pod.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Jake replies, his voice breaking a little. Curiosity is written all over his face, but he knows better than to ask by now, something you do not.

“The cove of ancestors?” You repeat questioningly, watching as Mo’at turns to you, her all-seeing eyes pinning you to the woven mat you’re kneeling on.

“You will know when you arrive, Eywa will show you the way,” The reply doesn’t make sense at all, but when Mo’at motions for you to get up to your feet, you do.

“When you have found what you’re looking for, spend the rest of your day with your son. I will watch over the demon,” You’re not about to be told twice, so as your ears twitch excitedly, you get to your feet, and with one last look back at the den, you leave your kelku behind for the first time since you arrived.

Walking beside Jake, you let your eyes fall on the beautiful marui pods that make the village. They’re decorated in beautifully vibrant colors, with shells, stones, and everything else the sea would willingly offer the Metkayina. The sand is warm and wet when you step down from the woven mats that made the bridges between each marui pod. You can’t help but dig your toes into it, grinning childishly as you chuckle.

“You’ve probably never ridden an ilu before, so we’ll take my skimwing. She will get us there quicker.” Jake grins over at you, so obviously knowing something that you don’t.

“I have seen the ilu outside of our kelku, but I have never ridden one,” You confirm, only making Jake grin wider.

“You will love the skimwing then,” This childishly excited side of Jake is new to you, one you have never seen before while he served your people as the Olo’eyktan. You decide then and there that you like this side of him.

You do not, however, like the skimwing. Clutching onto Jake’s middle, he howls with laughter as the skimwing quickly takes you in and out of the water as she flies. It’s quick, it’s challenging and it’s absolutely nothing like riding an ikran. At that moment as you’re plastered to Toruk Makto, you wish you had called for Hawnu instead. When you eventually come to a stop though, the scenery takes your breath away. The last time you had been here, Hawnu had flown low with the small ship behind him while you desperately clutched onto Neteyam’s body, and the time before…

“It’s beautiful,” You whisper in awe as Jake greets a small family as they swim past you on their ilus.

“Isn’t it?” Jake hums back, leaning back now that the skimwing slows down. “The first time I was here, we held a funeral without a body,”

Your gasp comes involuntarily. Clutching his shoulder, you don’t know what to say to him as you move further into the cove, the floating rocks paving way for the beauty that lay within. Letting your eyes roam the huge cove, you realize that it looks so much different than you remembered. Like Jake, you had held your own funeral without the bodies needed to connect with the Great Mother.

“Come on,” Jake turns back and smiles gently at you before breaking tsaheylu with his skimwing.

“When we get down there, I’ll give you a txampaysye, it will help you breathe underwater. Make tsaheylu with it and it will breathe for you,” Jake explains, a gentle smile on his face.

“I will not need one, Jake. I have already been down there nine times before. I will not struggle with the journey,” Swallowing audibly, Jake’s eyebrows furrow before he reaches out to squeeze your knee.

“Alright, come on then,” Nodding, you slide off of the skimwing, taking deep breaths before you let yourself sink beneath the water's surface.

Following Jake’s lead, you swim down until you reach the glowing spirit tree. It’s just as beautiful as you remembered it to be, but this time, you have the chance to really look at its surroundings. Letting your eyes roam around the gorgeous area, you notice how Jake has already connected to Ranteng Utralti. You wonder who it is he’s visiting, perhaps a friend lost in a battøe that should have never been. Tsu’tey’s name comes to mind as you make your way over to one of its vines. The two had become brothers before the final battle and through the years, you knew that both Jake and Neytiri missed him.

Connecting to Ranteng Utralti, you’re immediately brought back to a place you knew all too well. Grinning, you let yourself walk forward as you approach the childish group of recoms currently splashing water at each other in the pond. Z-Dog and Brown balance on the log bobbing in the water as Lopez, and Prager float in the water below them. They’re all grinning and laughing as they try to be something called a “king of the mountain”.

Turning back, you’re prepared to see the rest of the unit lounging on the bank, but to your surprise, only Seanfike stares back at you, the man sitting cross-legged as his tail slaps happily behind him. Narrowing your eyes, you can’t help the way your ears pin back flat against your skull. Something wasn’t right…

“What’s wrong?” Seanfike immediately asks, noticing your worried face.

“Where are the others?” You ask him, seeing how his own face furrows in confusion.

“What do you mean? They’re right behind you,” Seanfike points to the recom’s playing in the pond behind you.

“No, where is Lyle?” You start, but a grin spreads across Seanfike’s face as he chuckles at something behind you.

“Seanfike, please listen,” You press, desperation clutching your chest, “Where are Mansk, Ja, and Lyle?”

“I dunno, they’re probably around here somewhere. Haven’t really seen them in a while,” He eventually replies, confusion deeply etched into his face. “Why?”

A heavy feeling grows inside of you as you realize that they hadn’t been accepted by the Great Mother. Your attempt at putting their souls to rest failed as their bodies had never been united with Eywa. Your chest hurts as you feel tears pressing from your eyes. There’s a wail building in your chest, but below water, as you were, your mouth only fills with water. Distressed, Seanfike clutches your shoulders as Brown’s head comes to rest on your shoulder. All around you, the recom unit, what was left of them crowded you, wrapping their arms around you to hold you close.

“Breathe,” Brown whispers, his gentle voice stinging like a blade against your skin.

You’re roughly pulled from the vine you’re attached to, Jake’s scared eyes pulling at your body to take you up again, but you pull away from him. Struggling underwater, Jake suddenly freezes as he looks behind you, his eyebrows furrowing at something. Turning, your eyes go wide at what you see. From the glowing golden tendrils of Ranteng Utralti, four songcords flat upward, as if presented as something sacred.

To you, they were…

Kicking your legs, you reach for the rejected songcords as you glide through the water. Clutching them to your chest, you curl in on yourself as sorrow overtakes you. Eywa had accepted them, had held them within her warmth until you came and ruined everything. Distantly, you realize that you’re being pulled to the surface, but it isn’t before you’re hauled onto a rock and your lungs desperately gasp for air that you register it.

Coughing and gasping, you wail mournfully as you’re gathered up into warm arms. A hand smooths your wet hair back from your face as you’re rocked, but all you can think about is the songcords clenched tightly in your hands. Other Metkayina gathers around you with sympathetic looks on their faces as they ask Jake what they can do to help, or if they can get the Olo’eyktan. But Jake just shakes his head as he holds you through your heartache.

By the time eclipse arrives, Jake has managed to get you back to the village, his gentle hand leading you out of the water where Spider and Tonowari stand waiting for you. Your son meets you before you’ve managed to emerge fully, his small hand clutching onto the leather of your tweng. Shifting the songcords to one hand, you offer the free one to Spider, feeling how he immediately takes it in his. Although your heart is heavy, you find comfort in his small, warm hand as he clings to yours.

The communal meal goes by in a blur, your son’s worried eyes following your every move. You know that he wants to ask about the songcords still clutched tightly in your hand, but like you, he waits until you’re ready to talk, giving you the time you need to collect your thoughts. Jake and Tonowari keep sending you worried looks, even Ronal looks your way once, her knowing eyes lingering on you before turning away again. It feels like a relief when Spider eventually finishes his meal and you’re able to excuse yourselves from the clan.

Walking hand in hand, you slowly lead Spider down the woven bridges to your kelku, the flickering lights from inside greeting you as you let your son enter first. Taking a deep breath, you follow through, closing the flap behind you. Mo’at, of course, takes one look at you and immediately knows. You want to be angry at her knowledge, but you find that you’re grateful for her understanding when she nods minutely before getting up to leave you alone.

Moving about your kelku, you watch as Spider washes his feet in the little bowl on the other side, his little nighttime routine before going to sleep. Slowly, he settles down in your nest, the blankets nestled tightly around him as he cuddles up. Walking up to sit beside him, you listen as he lets out a deep, sleepy sigh. Closing your eyes, you part your lips as the first words leave your mouth.

“I couldn’t find their bodies,” You whisper, knowing that your son is listening intently. “So I made these songcords for them, hoping that the Great Mother would show them mercy and accept the offering,”

The silence feels cold inside of your kelku, the soft sound from Spider’s exopack the only noise besides the water below your marui pod. It should have been calming, but as your heart clenches painfully in your chest, you’re unable to find any real comfort in it. Turning your head to look at Spider, you see the shimmering in his beautiful brown eyes. Cupping his face in your free hand, you smile sadly at him before getting up to lie down beside him.

“Here, I will sing their cords for you,” You hum as you pull your son closer to your chest.

Sleep finds you shortly after you have finished recounting their milestones, your son’s face as he turns in your arms, surprisingly happy as he closes his beautiful eyes. Cupping the back of his head, you let your eyes drift to the songcords still clutched in the hand below Spider’s head. Closing your eyes, you don't even notice when you drift off, leaving the stress and heartache of the day behind.

It’s another early morning when you wake up the next day. Your body feels heavy as you roll Spider to the side to step out of your nest, the warm glow of the sun greeting you through the cracks as you approach the flaps. Opening them, you let the fresh, salty air clean away the heaviness of sleep from your kelku. Looking down at the songcords in your hand, you sigh deeply. The Great Mother’s will was not without reason, you had to trust that.

Turning to stare at the demon, you find his songcord in your hand, turning your bead between your fingers as you make up your mind. If he could be here before you, alive and real, then Lyle, Mansk, and Ja had to be alive somewhere too. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath as you settle your resolve. Walking over to your nest, you dig until you reach the bottom of the corner that saw little use. Looking at the songcords in your hands one last time, you hide them at the bottom before arranging the nest back to how it was.

Working through your own morning routine, you gather fresh water into bowls before starting on fresh salves and pastes for the demon’s first change. For once, the demon doesn’t seem quite as heavy when you move him while cleaning his body, making your work that much easier. When Spider wakes, you’ve already finished up, the last lingering feeling of despair leaving you as your son sends a cheeky grin your way. He’s telling you about the plans he has for the day when there’s a knock on your kelku, Jake, Neteyam, and Lo’ak smiling gently at you from the outside.

“Thought some fresh food would be good,” Jake offers as you gesture for them to come inside.

Of course, Spider rushes through his breakfast before the soles of the boys feet are the only thing Jake and you see as they hightail out of your kelku, leaving only the fleeting sound of their snickering as they poke fun at something Neteyam said. The kelku falls into a comfortable silence before Jake eventually breaks it with small talk. You sit, chatting like that until it’s time to change the demon again.

Preparing what you needed, you continue to talk with Jake as you start what was now routine for you. Mixing a freshly smelling surly leaf into the water, you dip a clean cloth into it before starting to clean the demon’s arms. Jake leans back on the wall behind him as you go about cleaning the demon, changing to a new clean cloth when it’s time for his face.

“And then she looked at me as if I had grown a second set of ears,” Jake chuckles, his grin wide as he retells the story about how Neytiri had taught him the way of the people all those years ago.

“And then, what did you do?” With a grin of your own, you chuckle as you wipe the demon’s brow, letting your hand linger as you look over at Jake.

“Am I dreaming, Princess?” The demon rumbles lazily, a sappy smile forming on his lips as he lifts his hand to caress your cheek.

Snapping your head back down to look at him, your grin slips into a frown as you slap his hand away as if it burnt you. Hiss furiously at him, you get up to your feet while you drop the wet cloth in your hand. The demon was asleep just moments ago, his sleeping draft given that morning assured that. Had you managed to mess up the mixture somehow? It must be the only explanation as to why the demon was now awake. You watch as his smiling face morphs into something a little sad as his ears droop, but all you can think about is what you did wrong as your wide, scared eyes lift up to meet Jake’s equally surprised ones.

“Aww… What did I do this time, sweetheart?” The demon’s lazy rumble turns charming as he smirks up at you, a cocky grin on his face.

“Quiet your tongue, demon,” You refuse to use his English as you hiss furiously again, noting how his sad, droopy ears pin back flat against his skull instead.

“Yes, ma’am,” He hums, a fond kind of smile spreading across his lips as he closes his eyes and breaches contently.

“How are you feeling, Quaritch?” Jake asks, his voice is low, gentle even, but the reaction is still instantaneous in the demon.

His eyes pop open with both alarm and fear, and it makes something clench painfully in your chest. The demon tries to jump to his feet to get into a defensive position, the move no doubt second nature to him, but with his muscles weak from disuse and his body still exhausted from trying to heal itself, he wobbles under his weight. Still, the demon fights to get into a defensive position, swaying and stumbling as he takes a protective stand before you, pushing you behind him.

“I’m not here to fight, Quaritch,” Jake states quickly, even though anger steadily becomes evident on his face.

“Like hell, you aren’t,” The demon sneers back, his ears flat against his skull as his tail whips anxiously behind him, smacking you with every back-and-forth motion.

From behind, you can recognize how good he looks in a normal tweng, how the soft leather hugs his narrow hips, or how strong the base of his tail is. But at that moment you find that you’re done with his bullshit and the situation his presence has forced you to be in. Grabbing the base of his kuru, you kick his legs out from under him, wrestling his slightly weaker body into the makeshift nest he’s been resting in.

“You stay and you be silent,” You hiss at him furiously, the English command registering immediately as his ears lower submissively. To your surprise, the demon looks almost ashamed, the fight leaving his much bigger body as he stares up at you with big eyes, his tail twitching anxiously beside your hip.

“Yes, Ma’am,” The demon mumbles, his voice rough with disuse as he looks away, unable to meet your eyes any longer.

“Answer him,” You demand, your voice leaving no room for argument.

There’s a tense silence spreading over your kelku as the demon refuses to do anything - as if a petulant child. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even looking in Jake’s direction. He’s clutching the ribs on his right side and you get the grueling feeling that all your hard work has just been wasted on the demon. Hissing, you step over him on your way to leave when his hand desperately grabs your tail.

“Wait!” He croaks and there’s an urgency in his voice, as if he’s genuinely afraid, that has you turning around to look down at him.

The demon is still laying in his makeshift bed where you put him, only having moved enough to grab your tail. Reluctantly, he slowly lets go of your tail, as if he’s testing if you’ll flee or not. Only when you’ve stood still for what he deems long enough does he roll all the way over to his back again. There’s a battle going on within him, one that looks painful enough that you want to reach out to him, to help soothe his troubles as much as possible, but you don’t. Eventually, his conflicted eyes meet yours, as if looking for strength before they close on a deep, rugged sigh.

“I’m peachy,” The demon bites, eyes opening to stare directly at Jake.

“Skxawng,” You scold with a click of your tongue while crossing your arms over your chest.

“Alright, alright, relax already,” He grumbles, reminding you of Spider the few times you’ve had disagreements. “I’m sore, alright. Ribs hurting like shit,”

The admission seems to pain him as his face darkens with embarrassment. He still scowls at Jake in the corner of your kelku, but your immediate worry is the pain that he’s apparently in. Stepping over the demon, you grab the ingredients for the salve that would help with his pain. Sitting down beside him, you cross your legs as you start to grind the ingredients into the bowl. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the marui pod, until it’s disturbed by Spider running into your kelku, laughter in his beautiful voice as he smiles at you.

“Mom,” Spider grins, his happiness all but blinding you as you look up, just in time to see your son’s smile dropping from his face as he freezes, only for Neteyam to run into him from behind.

“Yo, what’s up, bro?” Neteyam snickers as he sidesteps Spider, only to stop dead in his tracks. “D-dad…”

Jake reaches out for his oldest son, offering support when he recognizes fear in his voice. Neteyam grabs his father’s hand before quickly stepping closer to him, but the demon doesn’t care. His initial reaction was a slight widening of his eyes, but just as quickly as his eyes shifted to Neteyam, they’re back on your son again.

“Spider,” The demon croaks, voice pleading. He doesn’t dare to move, but his ears rotate, open and alert, to your son as he stares.

“Come,” You tell him, looking at the spot beside you while still crushing the ingredients into a smooth salve. “Sit,”

“We will be fine, Jake,” You look up at Toruk Makto, noting how his chest has puffed out, his legs spread wide as he covers his son protectively.

“You sure? It’s no trouble staying, Y/n,” Jake assures you, and even though you know he would like to take his son anywhere but here, you know that if you needed him to stay, he would.

“There are words that need to be said between us,” You sigh, feeling the emotional turmoil that this is taking on you weighing heavily on your shoulders as you come to the conclusion that maybe your son shouldn’t be here for this conversation after all. “Will you take Spider with you?”

Nodding, Jake gently leads Neteyam and Spider through the doors, spearing one last look at the demon before disappearing from view. You have no doubt in his mind that he will be back soon, if only under the disguise of having forgotten something. Sighing, you continue the grind, watching as the paste turns creamy and then, finally, a smooth light green salve.

“Point to where the pain is,” You snap quickly at the demon, breaking the silence that once more had spread across your kelku.

“Slower,” The demon rumbles, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Pain. Point,” You growl, your impatience bleeding over into annoyance when he sighs.

“Here,” He points to his right side, just below his nipple, “And here,”

Nodding your head, you crouch over him, spreading your legs over his hips before sitting down on the meat of his thighs. To feel the demon’s warm skin against the inside of your sensitive thighs brings a lump to your throat, but shortly after, you’re pulled out of your thoughts when the demon growls.

“The hell?” The growl is dangerously deep as he gets up to his elbows, wincing at the pressure it gives his ribs. “The fuck are my clothes, woman?”

The sharpness of his yellow eyes sends butterflies through your stomach, but you refuse to make it excite you. The demon had made his nest, now he needed to lay in it.

“Gone.” You huff down at him, narrowing your eyes.

“What do you mean gone?” He bites back just as quickly, his own eyes narrowing.

“When I found you, you had soiled yourself. Your tweng could not be saved,” He doesn’t understand what you’re saying, his face all twisted as he tries to make sense of it.

“My twe- The hell you saying, woman?” The demon tries to sit up, but you easily push him back down again, noticing how the motion brings him pain.

“Like a baby, you dirty your tweng,” You repeat, this time in English so that he’ll understand.

You don’t have to wait long for him to do so. Almost immediately, his eyes go wide as his face turns dark, his eyebrows narrowing while he clenches his jaw shut. He doesn’t meet your eyes, instead deciding to stare at something else on your face.

“You mean to say that you undressed me while I was out like a light?” His voice is dangerously even when he speaks and had you still feared him, you would have probably backed off of him.

“I do not know this meaning,” You huff back at him, holding your ground.

“You fucking took my clothes off and dressed me in this shit,” The demon raises his voice as he sneers at you from below, his ears slicked back against his skull.

“Would you have preferred to wear soiled armor?” The deadpan comeback makes the demon growl angrily.

“Wha- in English, woman!” The demon huffs, his frustration only growing.

“Should I take you here with a dirty tweng?” The reaction is, once more, immediate. The demon growls furiously, his despair so easy to read as he cups his hands over his tweng.

Huffing at his ridiculous modesty, you lower your body once more, sitting down on the meat of his thighs. Slapping his hands away from his tweng, you watch as he immediately covers it with his hands again. You do not understand what it is he’s doing, so you slap his hands away again, only for the demon to cover his tweng again, his face growing an even darker shade. Grabbing his wrists, you tear them away from the front of his tweng, pinning them to the makeshift nest below him, only for the demon to snap them right back again.

“Stop it,” You hiss at him, your ears folding back in annoyance.

“You stop it!” The demon’s voice is high, almost childish as he looks up at you. He’s still not able to meet your eyes.

“You are like a child,” Grabbing his wrists once more, you tear them away while he fights you. In the end, his weakened state makes him lose the battle. “Do not move, demon.”

Huffing, the demon turns his head to look away from you. It finally gives you the space you need to work. Leaning over him, you spread your hands over the demon’s pectorals, fanning your fingers until your thumbs meet in the middle. You try to feel if his lungs expand equally, but the demon only takes shallow breaths, as if he’s consciously fighting you every step of the way.

“Deep breaths,” You tell him and to your utter surprise, he follows your command without complaining.

Guiding him through the examination Mo’at had taught you, you’re surprised that he doesn’t fight you. He states motionless as you press your fingers down his sternum, checking for tenderness in and around his chest wall. With a finger between each of his ribs, you percuss while listening for hyperresonant sounds. The demon hisses when you reach his right side, but otherwise stays quiet. It’s only when you scoot back to put your ear to his chest that he freezes.

“What are you doing?” He drawls, his head finally moving back to look down at you.

“Be silent and breathe regularly,” You hum back as you press your ear to his warm skin.

His heart beats loudly in his chest, almost too loud, and his breathing is too fast, but you’re still able to listen to his lungs. Moving your head further down to the bottom of his ribcage, you feel his stomach tighten against your cheek as his breath stutters.

“Oh, sweet mother,” You can hear him whisper above you, but then he manages to breathe carefully, somewhat close to what his breathing was while he was asleep.

Moving to the other side, you do the same. Sitting up again, confusion strikes you as you find the demon has screwed his eyes shut, his jaw tightly clenched as his hands have created tight fists by his side. Reaching over to take one of his hands in yours, you open the fist to hold his hand, sliding your smaller hand into his bigger one.

“Tell me, where does it hurt?” You ask him gently, only to receive a snort and a smirk in return.

“Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to know,” He mumbles, his drawls so thick that you struggle to understand the words. “I’m just fine, darling,”

Letting go of his hand, you move further up on the met of his thighs to get a better position. After asking him to take deep breaths, you press your fingers over his vital organs, starting under his ribs. With each exhale, you feel for any enlargements, for any tenderness. Moving further down you do the same, watching him closely just in case he wouldn’t say anything about the pain. It’s not until you put your hands on each side of the top of his hip bones that he tenses.

“Do this hurt?” You ask him as you gently make the organ move between your hands.

You only receive a gasp in return as the demon closes his eyes, his lips slightly parted and his breath becomes ragged. There’s something wrong, but he doesn’t want to tell you what it is. Moving over to the other side brings forth the same reaction. You’re about to demand he tells you where the pain is from when your hand brushes against something it should not have. Looking between your wide-spread thighs a huge bulge stares back at you from beneath the demon’s tweng. With wide eyes, your head snaps up to meet the dangerously sharp ones of the demon. His lips have parted more, the tips of his fangs visible from the plumpness of his lips. You can feel your irises dilate as the warm scent of the demon reaches your nose.

“Maybe you did want to know after all, mama,” The demon’s husky voice has dropped several octaves, the deep rumble all but rattling through your ribcage as your own core responds to his scent.

Until his words register in your suddenly foggy mind. Hissing, you jump off of him as if burned. The disappointment is clear as day when the demon flops his head down on his makeshift nest again. Stomping around your kelku, you grab your blade before walking to the door.

“Use the salve in the bowl on your pain, and drink water,” You growl before stepping outside. The fresh, salty air greets you as its warm winds caress your heated skin. It feels great.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jake chuckles softly, making you jump.

“What?” You’re caught so off guard that you don’t know what to say.

“You seem distressed, Y/n,” Jake squeezes your shoulder gently as he bends to look into your eyes.

“Would you not be distressed if you had to live with him after everything he has done?” Your words come out much harsher than you had intended to, but you find that they ring no less true than what you feel.

The demon had taken everything that you had. He had snatched every breath from your lungs, had made you feel, had made you care only to turn his back to you at the first opportunity he got. He had taken everything you taught him and used it against you. Still, when his body lay beaten and broken at death’s door, you had stood by his side. You had cleaned his body and healed his wounds while he rested. You had kept him alive when all he deserved was to be washed out in the sand, a dark moment in Na’vi history. Jake just looks at you with knowing eyes. You can no more help the sigh that leaves you than you can keep your shoulders from sagging under the weight of Jake’s hand.

By the time you get Spider, the demon has been asleep for many hours, but you still make a mental note to up the sleeping draft you mix with his water. Sighing, you watch as Spider curls into your nest, his smaller body tired after yet another day filled with new and exciting adventures. Smiling to yourself, you step over to the demon, pulling the blanket off of him. Sitting down, you start the cleaning routine, removing leaves on the deeper wounds while cleaning old salve from shallower cuts. By the time you had finished, you felt the weight of the day in your tired eyes. Curling up beside Spider, you’re happy to see that his beautiful brown eyes glitter as he stares at you. Smiling, he bumps his masked forehead to yours as he sighs happily. It doesn’t take long before you’re asleep, warm and tired as your son’s heartbeat plays the most beautiful rhythm you have ever heard in your life.

Which is why you’re so confused when you wake up to the rumbled growls of a much darker character. Turning your head, you’re met with the demon’s sharp eyes as he huffs with frustration. He hasn’t moved from his makeshift nest apart from sitting up, the blanket tightly wrapped around him. Groaning, you rub the sleep from your face as you yawn. This would apparently be another day when the demon would be awake. Annoyed, you start to plan a way to slip him more of the sleeping draft. Maybe, if you were lucky, he would drink the entire bowl and choke on -

“Woman, stop ignoring me,” The demon growls, his voice annoying in the silence of the early morning. “Where are my weapons?”

“Where I found you,” You respond lazily as you sit up in your nest to stare at him.

“The hell you mean by that, darling?" He sneers, the anger blazing in his sharp eyes.

“I left everything when I took your armor off,” You sigh, pinching the broad bridge of your nose as you pray to Eywa to give you strength.

“Now why in the ever-loving hell would you do that, sweetheart?” His voice cuts deep like a blade through the soft underbelly of a beast as his eyes narrow.

“You have no need of them,” You start, watching as his chest puffs while his face contorts into one big frown, ready to spit angrily. “But I took your blade with us. It’s in Cupcake’s bag.”

“Cupcake?” At the mention of his ikran, the demon halts, his eyes turning from angry to hopeful in a matter of seconds. “Is she alright?”

The demon’s voice is gentle when he asks, yet, the urgency behind his question shines through. He cares deeply for his ikran. The knowledge warms something deep within you, making your own annoyance bleed away.

“She is safe with Hawnu,” You confirm, offering what you hope is a comforting smile.

The demon takes a deep breath, wincing slightly before he lets out a sigh. In your own stressed state, you have failed to realize that he must have his own set of stress going on in his life. Something must have triggered his sudden change of heart. The man you had come to know, the man behind this… this unrecognizable mask, something drastic would have had to happen for him to leave all reason and just act. In the back of your mind, Jake’s words ring loud and clear. ‘When none of your choices are good, you make the best of the bad ones.’

“Thanks,” The demon mumbles, his voice calm and relieved.

You’re about to ask what happened when Spider yawns beside you. Looking down at your son you smile as his beautiful brown eyes open to greet you. Reaching forward, you brush the hair from his forehead, chuckling lightly as he swats at your hand before brushing the rest of his hair away by himself. Sitting up in your nest, his easy smile drops to one of uncertainty as he notices the demon. Looking up, you notice how the demon furrows his brows before taking a deep breath.

“Good morning, Spider,” He drawls, his voice warm and heavy, like a blanket during thunderstorms.

Spider doesn’t reply though, and although you want to tut at him for being rude, you don’t. His father had broken something sacred, something only he could make right again. The only thing you could do was to offer your son the support and safety he needed when he needed it. Getting to your feet, you offer Spider a fruit for breakfast, smiling gently at him when he slices the fruit in two and offers you the first dice of meat. Reaching forward, you cup the back of his messy head before leaning down to place a kiss on the top of his head, letting your lips linger for a moment too long before pulling back. Looking up at you, the conflict on your son’s face makes you smile sadly down at him. You wish more than anything that you could take this hardship away from him, that you could make his life as joyful as he has made yours. When he sighs and looks over to his father though, pride explodes within you at the strength you see in his small form.

But as Spider opens his mouth, no doubt to offer his father food, Neytiri and Jake enter your kelku, the older woman’s smile slipping from her face when sharp eyes meet hers. Before you’re able to react, the demon is up on his feet, staggering unsteadily as he pushes Spider and you behind him as he takes a defensive stand before you. The way he hisses sends a chill down your spine and makes the tip of your tail twitch with unease. When the deep growl leaves the cavity of his chest, an immediate biological reaction course through you, forcing you to reach out for safety while clutching your so to your side. Your heart beats wildly as you hold onto the demon’s tail, your hand gripping so hard that your fingers grow cold. Distantly, you can hear Jake tell you that everything is alright, that you’re safe, but the demon’s furious growls want nothing to do with the Toruk Makto’s words. It’s only then that your frozen body thaws, your fear bleeding out of you as Jake’s words reach your mind. Taking in the situation before you, Neytiri hisses and snarls, her blade drawn and pointing at the demon, while her mate desperately tries to calm the situation behind her.

“Get your batshit crazy wife away from my family, Corporal,” The demon sneers, his tail whipping furiously beneath your hand.

Letting go of the demon’s tail, you slap the back of his head, having understood what he just said, knowing it was not nice words.

“If you come near my son again, I will skin you alive, woman,” You have never heard him sound this venomous before, his fury sending dread through your body.

As Jake hisses in response to the threat to his mate's life, the feeling that something is wrong settles heavily in the pit of your stomach once more. Pushing Spider further behind you, you try to sidestep the demon, but his long arms keep pushing you back as he shifts his defensive stand with each move you make.

“Be nice,” You scold him, holding his arm still as you finally step out from behind him.

“You don’t know, do you?” He huffs a flat chuckle, but there’s no humor in it as his dangerously sharp eyes meet yours.

“What do I not know?” You ask confused, a heavy stone dropping in your stomach as the unease doubles up.

“How she held our son at knifepoint, how she ran her blade across his chest, drawing blood before going in for the killing blow,” The demon’s words are spat so venomously, with such pure hatred, that it leaves no room for questioning.

Yet, you can’t help the gasp from leaving your lips as another, much colder chill runs down your spine. Looking down at the long, crusting wound across your son’s chest, you walk through your belief that he had hurt himself during his escape, like with the other cuts and bruises. But now that you really look at the wound, as you look beyond the healing flesh, you realize that the wound is too clean to have happened by accident.

“Quaritch was holding Kiri at knifepoint too, threatening to kill her if I didn’t surrender. Y/n he took our children just to draw me out. We thought we had just lost Neteyam by Quaritch’s demand,” Jake hurried to say, his voice pleading with you.

But all you can hear is that Neytiri ran her blade across your innocent son’s chest, drawing his blood before going in for the killing blow to end his life. Turning to Neytiri you see how her blade has lowered, her hands slack by her sides as she stares ahead, her expression empty behind her eyes.

“A son for a son, wasn’t that what you said?” The demon sneers and his fury with Neytiri all but drips from the sound.

“Oh, shit,” You can hear Jake whisper, but your ears start ringing as the words sink in and you understand what has been said.

“Is this true, sister?” You turn to Neytiri, praying to the Great Mother that it wasn’t so, that this was just one of the demon’s and Jake's many lies.

“Yes,” Neytiri doesn’t even deny it, but the older woman doesn’t look proud about it either.

A wounded sound leaves your throat as your mind goes blank with pain. Distantly, you feel tears start to roll down your face at the betrayal of your sister’s actions. You’re screaming, but you can’t hear it, unable to stop it as sobs rush through your body. Strong arms wrap around you and before you know it you’re going down, the warm body behind you following you down as your knees hit the woven ground of your kelku. You’re wailing, but all you can hear is Neytiri’s ‘Yes’ ringing through your mind.

The demon tries to comfort you, his big hand holding your head against his chest as you cry. Spider steps closer too, his small arms wrapping around your shoulders as he presses his head to your back. It doesn’t help. Reaching out for your son, you clasp your hand around his, noting how his hand is so small where it’s held by yours, and suddenly, the image of Neytiri holding a blade to your son’s small body flashes before your mind. In the end, rage is the only thing left inside of your empty heart.

“We’re supposed to protect the children,” You whisper morseso to yourself, your voice almost inaudible. But you know they've heard you by the way they all flinch at your words.

“We’re supposed to protect the children,” You say louder as you push away from the demon’s embrace, slapping at his arms and chest to get away when he reaches for you when you turn to face Neytiri again.

“We’re supposed to protect the children!” You scream at her, but she won’t meet your eyes. Stepping away from the demon, you stare at both of them, truly seeing them for the first time in your life before continuing. “And you use them to hurt each other,”

You watch as both of them flinch, their ears pinned back so close to their skulls that had you not known they were there, you would have missed them. Their tails have curled protectively around their legs, their heads lowered in shame, but somehow, they still have the audacity to meet your eyes when you stare at them.

“I saved your son while desperately searching for my own and this is how you repay me,” Your words fall like stones in the silent marui pod.

Behind them, Tonowari stands tall, his warriors no doubt calling him to the marui pod for him to see what the wailing and shouting is about. His eyes are wide as he stands behind the Sullys, ears flat against his mighty hair, while his tail thrashes behind him.

“You are both unworthy to call yourselves parents in the presence of Eywa.” You sneer at them, your fury making your skin grow cold, threatening to make your teeth clatter against each other.

“You do not deserve them,” Your voice is surprisingly calm when you speak, making their ears twitch with the change, as if the defeat in your voice was somehow worse than the rage.

Wrapping your hand around Spider’s arm, you walk out of your kelku without looking back. You needed to find Hawnu, needed to feel the wind through your hair, needed to take your son to a place where you knew he would be safe, where you knew he would be protected. When you had calmed down enough, you had a whole cave full of things you would need to talk to him about, but for right now, you just needed to feel safe, if only for a little while. With your heart broken and bleeding in your chest, you call for Hawnu, your ikran immediately responding with his own screech, Cupcake’s complimentary screech following just behind.

“Do you have space for one more?” Mo’at’s voice asks gently from behind and you’re too tired to argue with the older woman, so instead, you just nod as the tears roll down your face. Maybe she would know why the Great Mother had turned her back on you…

Chapter 16 | Masterpost | Chapter 18

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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

Text

Broken Glass (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! (Coming Soon)

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Hospitals, illness, allusions to abuse. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: It’s good to be back, my lil’ darlin’s! I’ve missed y’all! Broken Glass has a decidedly different feel than Pink Scarf, and I really hope that you enjoy it. This will be more of a slow burn and not quite as smut heavy as PS, but we’ll get there eventually! The original character of Dolores can also be read as Reader, but her back story needed to be pretty specific so I decided to go the OC route. I’m excited to dive into some of my favorite tropes with this one, and hopefully I can do them justice.

Delicious 1960 Post-Army E has me in almost as much of a chokehold as ’69 E, so it was only right that I give him the attention he deserves!

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Bellevue Hospital

New York City, New York

March 1960

“Nurse Cannava!”

The shrill call of Charge Nurse Irma Hunt grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but you don’t dare show it on your face. Instead, you take a deep breath through your nose and hurry over to the severe woman.

“Yes, Nurse Hunt?” you say as evenly as possible. You’ve only been an official Registered Nurse for a few months and cannot afford to make a wrong step with this drill sergeant of a woman. You’d rather be extra deferential and placating than looking for a new job, no matter how much you want to run in the opposite direction any time she calls your name.

She looks at you critically, peering down over her glasses with her sharp stare. “Nurse Calhoun was pulled away to surgery before she was able to finish her other duties. I need you to change the sheets for our VIP patient while he’s upstairs for x-rays. I need you to be quick. In and out, no funny business, you understand me?”

“Of course, Nurse Hunt,” you nod frantically. It’s the middle of the night, so it is strange for the patient to be doing tests at this hour. Though if they are trying to keep his identity under wraps, it makes sense that they would choose an hour where less people were involved.

“And absolutely no telling anyone about our patient. We must uphold the strictest confidentiality, now more than ever,” she adds with a glare.

The threat is clear:

Don’t mess this up.

“I understand.” Curiosity of who it could be itches at the edge of your mind, wondering about this VIP that has the woman in more of a harsh mood than usual.

Maybe it’s Ricky Nelson or Mario Lanza or Marlon Brando, your mind titters, but it’s probably just some stuffy politician. You figure it’s better to have low expectations and be pleasantly surprised than to have high ones and be disappointed.

Ever the realist.

Regardless of who might be, you don’t have time for silly schoolgirl fantasies. There is a job to do, and you best be getting to it before getting into trouble.

You scurry away to gather fresh linens, then make your way back to one of the few private rooms on the floor. Most patients are relegated to the open wards here in Manhattan’s biggest hospital, but there are special cases, such as this, it seems, where a more private setting is needed.

There’s a large man at the door, keeping watch, and he looks you up and down with narrowed eyes longer than you’d like, sending a chill into your gut. But this is nothing new. You hold your ground, straightening your spine and lifting your chin.

“Nurse Hunt asked me to change the sheets,” you say, clipped. He smiles, as if in on a joke you’re not privy to, then opens the door.

At 20, you are the youngest nurse on the ward. People, especially men, tend to underestimate you, but you have something to prove and no time for nonsense. Graduating high school early, you were thrilled to be accepted to Bellevue School of Nursing, one of the best programs in the country. The four-year experience had been grueling, but since you had to live in the dormitory, it got you out of the house and away from your damned father and his cronies.

In the process, you discovered that helping people truly is your calling. So, while young, you are good at your job and take it seriously.

This is why you hurry in and start stripping the bed as quickly as possible. As curious as you are as to who this mysterious man might be, getting the job done is much more important than snooping around the room.

You tug and pull the sheets as taut as possible, perfect hospital corners making the bed crisp and neat. Your attention to detail and cleanliness are a sense of pride, so spending a little more time than necessary making sure the bed is perfect is worth it. The intention isn’t to linger, but if this VIP is as important as everyone is making him out to be, you want to make sure everything is done right.

Finally, after inspection, you gather up the dirty sheets and make your way around the bed, just as the door opens to the room.

Damn. You weren’t fast enough.

Your gaze cannot help but drop to the man in the wheelchair. A bandage is stuck at the edge of his thick chestnut locks. Although he is obviously ill, his sapphire eyes rimmed with dark circles and his pallor pale, there is absolutely no mistaking who the VIP is.

America’s biggest rebel-turned-G.I., the one and only Elvis Presley.

You are not a fan, but your heart unwillingly kerthunks against your ribcage anyway because he’s still one of the most famous men on the planet, and you are shocked at how pictures barely do the man justice.

Dear lord, even sick, he is wildly gorgeous in person, you catch yourself thinking. His essence seems to fill the room, pushing all the oxygen out, because suddenly you can’t catch your breath. Suddenly, you understand why millions of ladies fall faint at his feet.

Surprised to see someone in his room, his eyes rake up your body from your toes to your little white nurse’s cap. You hold back a shiver as those famous bedroom eyes finally land on yours.

“Well, hello there, little bird.”

Little bird? You know you shouldn’t let it bother you, but the pet name rankles you in its familiarity. You’ve been called all manner of things by all manner of men, both in and out of this hospital, but this is a new one, and though certainly not the worst, it bothers you all the same. Perhaps it’s because he acts as though he is owed this familiarity and expects you to be grateful for it.

His lilting Southern drawl is creaky and hoarse from illness, making him a little less mystical, which allows you to quickly recover your wits. Trying not to show annoyance on your face, you straighten your posture while moving aside to let the orderly push Elvis into the room and help him onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sir,” you say politely, as pissing off this VIP will do you no favors, but your eyes harden at the way his gaze openly lingers on you. You attempt to skirt around him as quickly as possible, but the room, though private, is not large, and the wheelchair and the two men take up much of the space.

“Hey, little bird, wait!” he calls out before you even reach the door.

Stopping in your tracks, your infernal heart continues to pound in your ears. All you want is to get out of this suffocating room, but you inhale and turn around instead. The orderly gives a wink before sliding out of the room behind you. You resist the urge to huff.

“It’s Nurse Cannava, sir,” you say firmly, trying to take the edge out of your voice, albeit unsuccessfully. “Is there something I can help you with?”

That sly, signature grin spreads almost bashfully across his face and if you weren’t so perturbed by the suggestiveness of it, you might keel over from its brilliance filling the small space.

“Call me Elvis, little birdy,” he drawls, blatantly ignoring using your given name, as requested. “Could ya be so kind as to get me some water? Please?” he asks kindly, which is far more than you expect.

“Yes, certainly, sir,” you reply, equally ignoring his request to call him Elvis. You turn on your heel and escape as quickly as possible before he can ask any more of you.

A breath shudders through you once you’re out in the hallway. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. You are as bothered by this reaction as by the fact that you must get this man water and go back in there without showing him that you are in any way affected by the fact that he’s Elvis Presley or that his behavior has you decidedly on edge.

He’s a patient, you remind myself silently, and this is part of my job. A job I desperately need to keep if I want to get out of that nightmare of a house...

This thought steadies you more than anything. You’ll do almost anything to be in a position to permanently leave home and to do so without having to marry that mook Gianni. And hell, you’ve dealt with much worse in terms of patient behavior. Getting Elvis water is objectively the easiest thing you’ve had to do all shift.

You can’t seem to help straightening your starched white apron before taking a deep breath and marching back into the room, pitcher of water and a glass in hand.

“Here you are, sir,” you say, trying not to sound terse, trying not to look directly at him. It’s almost like the feeling that you shouldn’t be looking at the sun, yet your eyes want to do it anyway. Even without looking at him, you can sense his heavy gaze lingering over you. You blush involuntarily, the blooming warmth a betrayal of your modesty. In response, you place the pitcher and water down on the table near him and turn to flee as quickly as possible without making it seem like that’s what you are doing.

“Hey, now, little bird,” Elvis says, catching the hem of your skirt, halting your exit. “Why ya tryin’ to fly away so fast?”

“Oh Madone,” you mumble under your breath, your Italian heritage making an appearance as you roll your eyes to the heavens before turning back around and pulling the fabric from his long fingers. Heat washes over you in an angry wave, turning your blush a deeper shade of red.

“I have other patients to tend to, sir.” It’s not a lie but sure feels like one with the strained way it falls off your tongue. Your lips press into a thin line of a smile, desperately trying not to glare at him but catching his eyes with your unamused ones all the same.

“Elvis,” he corrects me, maddingly, that smirk playing on his lips, a playfulness in his glassy, feverish eyes. “And I was just wonderin’ if ya could pour me a cup, since it’s all the way over d’ere?”

The water is on the table right next to the bed, and he certainly looks able to pour it himself, and you both know it, but he just smiles, playing this infuriating game, wasting your time.

Finally, you sigh and relent. It’ll be faster to just do it than to try an argue about it. He’s a patient, after all.

You still feel his eyes on you as you turn sideways and dutifully pour the water out. His presence, especially when focused on you alone, feels incredibly overwhelming, mixing a healthy dose of trepidation in with your irritation. You keep your face as neutral as possible and hand over the glass.

What you don’t expect is for him to touch you, his fingers circling over yours, blazing hot from the fever he looks to have. You loathe the way your heart flips in your chest when he looks up at you through impossibly long, feathering lashes, those gemstone eyes of his expressive beyond imagining and conveying more than just playfulness.

“Thank you, little bird,” he whispers. The sound swirls up your spine, breaking through your annoyance just enough to see the blithe, handsome boyishness of him. It promises an unfamiliar temptation, one you’ve seen only in movies and never willingly and truthfully experienced for yourself. Your mouth goes bone dry.

He is dangerous, you think, but not because you are afraid of him in a physical sense (and lord knows you’ve feared too many men already in your short lifetime). No, his is a danger of an entirely different sort. He makes you want to trust him, and in your experience, men are never, ever to be trusted.

“Nurse Cannava! What are you doing in here?” Nurse Hunt’s shrill admonishment startles you out of the hypnotizing stare of the teen idol, causing you to jump back as though he was on fire. You let go of the glass, slipping your hands out of his, but he does the same, and the glass spills water all over the newly changed sheets before tumbling to the floor where it shatters with a crash.

The tinkling of the glass explodes in your head, and a latent and all-too-familiar fear associated with the sound freezes you to the spot. Try as you might, you cannot stop the involuntary trembling that rushes through your limbs. Air attempts to fill your lungs, but the breaths are too short and shallow to do any good. The wave of panic threatens to undo you, right here, in front of both your superior and the most famous man in the world.

It's just broken glass. I’m safe. I’m at work. He can’t hurt me here. The mantra plays in your head over and over as you clasp your shaking hands in front of you, trying to pull yourself together before anyone notices anything amiss.

“I told you to be quick and quiet, not go around cavorting with our patient!” Hunt hisses harshly, glowering, but it snaps you out of the trance-like state that has overtaken you.

Now, instead of fearing things that cannot hurt you here, you are suddenly afraid for your job. Nurse Hunt is a terrifying and formidable leader and being on her bad side means a world of hurt going forward. Your heart feels like a hummingbird’s, fueled by anger, embarrassment, and lingering panic. You resist the urge to give Elvis a scathing look, knowing it will likely just result in more trouble. Instead, you quickly raise your eyes and catch a strangely curious yet concerned look from the man.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, Head Nurse,” you finally stammer out, realizing she is waiting for you to say something. “I’ll clean that up right away.” You start for the bed but are stopped by the crunching glass beneath your practical white nurse’s shoes.

“Ma’am?” Elvis croaks out suddenly, gently, capturing the older woman’s attention. “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be a bother, but it wasn’t the young lady’s fault at all. I asked her for the water. She was just doin’ her job, and I distracted her. It’s my fault.” His bedroom eyes widen with an almost childlike deference as he looks at her through those long lashes.

Elvis oozes an effusive charm that makes the formidable woman’s hardened veneer crack. It might not be obvious to one who doesn’t know her, but her gaze softens ever so slightly.

You almost want to roll your eyes and scoff, but the strange thing is that it doesn’t feel at all like a put-on. It first strikes you as some sort of malevolent manipulation, like he wants to impress you somehow by getting you out of the mess he got you into, but he seems nothing but honest. He looks truly sorry.

You stand stock still, hands still clasped in front of your apron, needing to know your fate before moving. Nurse Hunt finally sighs, having weighed her options of denying her VIP’s puppy dog eyes or making your life miserable.

“Alright, Mr. Presley. Nurse Cannava will help you move to that chair there so she can change your sheets again and clean up this mess,” she says through pursed lips. “And you let her be and do her job, you hear? You’re not the only patient on the ward, young man.”

“Of course, ma’am. I really am sorry about the mess,” he says softly, seriously, nodding.

“Quickly, Nurse!” Nurse Hunt barks. Picking your jaw off the ground, you hustle to the other side of the bed, still amazed he was able to soften the old goat in any way.

It’s not until your arm is around his waist while the other steadies him in a well-practiced and trained move that you realize that you are holding a barely clothed Elvis Presley. A brief but decidedly improper and embarrassing thought flirts in the back of your mind as you help him into the chair in the corner. His skin is hot with fever, easily felt where your skin touches his and it radiates through his thin hospital gown. It burns into you, through you, melding with the unnerving, angry fire that already consumes you. You can feel his eyes on you but don’t dare to look at him, not with Hunt watching, making sure you don’t drop the prize patient.

You suppose you are glad for the fact that your cheeks were already on fire from humiliation, so neither can see just how uncomfortable and ashamed you feel right now. The way emotions flash rapidly through you, you’re amazed you can concentrate at all, but you manage to deposit the singer in the chair, unscathed.

Nurse Hunt huffs a little, but seems satisfied, and takes her leave, on to the next crisis.

A relieved but shuddering breath releases from you and without looking at the man in the chair that has caused so much trouble tonight, you jump to removing the sheets you made so perfectly not minutes ago.

“Hey, little b—Nurse Cannava,” Elvis catches himself, “I-I-I meant what I said—I really am sorry I made things harder on ya.”

You refuse to look at him. Instead, you grit your teeth and yank the sheets off, furious. Storming out of the room, you quickly retrieve a new set of sheets and a broom and dustpan for the glass on the floor.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he mutters as you stomp back in the room, dutifully ignoring his presence. You busy yourself with the glass first, sweeping it into a pile, then bending over to sweep it into the dustpan. You realize too late that you’ve just effectively but unwittingly shown Elvis your rear end. You can practically hear the smirk on his face, which is confirmed once you flit your eyes over to him.

A new wave of heat flushes over your cheeks, but you pretend you don’t notice his leering. Nothing good has come tonight from you paying any sort of mind to what Elvis is doing. You go about your business as swiftly as possible, counting the seconds before you can remove yourself from his suffocating presence.

“You just gonna ignore me now, honey? Come on, I-I-I said I-I was sorry,” he stutters petulantly after another minute of silence.

Your response is to tug the sheets as tight as you can. You move around the other side, hating that your behind will be in his face while you finish the bed, but it can’t be helped. You grit your teeth and focus on smoothing the sheets instead of the hole Elvis is burning through your backside.

“Well, at least I got a nice view in the room…of the city, I mean,” he chuckles. The innuendo is crystal clear.

You whirl around and want to slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face. You’ve never felt so unprofessional or off the rails as you do with this man.

He’s a patient, he’s a patient, he’s a VIP patient, you remind yourself, trying to take calming breaths. But try as you might, you can’t seem to keep your damn mouth shut, that Italian temper flaring, boiling your blood.

“Eyes up!” you snap your fingers at him. “I have work to do and a job to keep, and talking with you only gets me in trouble, so leave me be!” Blood throbs in your ears as you attempt unsuccessfully to keep your fury at bay.

“Ooh, I heard New York cherries were feisty, but I hadn’t the occasion to see it for m’self,” he muses, thinking he’s just about the funniest thing since Lenny Bruce.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” you mutter under your breath, fuming, turning around to finish the bed. Once it’s done, you breathe a sigh of relief and make to leave.

“Hey, little bird, you want an autograph or somethin’?” Elvis asks, still vying for your attention for whatever reason.

God, the ego on this one. “I don’t want anything from you.” You can’t help but turn towards him, even though you know you should leave as fast as your legs will carry you.

“Not a fan, huh? Bet I can change your mind,” he says, his left eyebrow quirking up suggestively. The man is as gorgeous as he is infuriating.

“I prefer Ricky Nelson, so no thanks,” you shoot back at him.

He fully laughs at that, a big, hiccupping, musical sound that under any other circumstance might be attractive and endearing, but now it just seeks to make you angrier. Your seething seems to amuse him all the more, however, as he erupts into more peals of laughter.

“You’re somethin’ else, lil’ bird,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. But his face suddenly turns alarmed as he can’t seem to catch his breath, the laughter turning into gasps.

“Elvis, enough of that. Let’s get you into bed.” Your training immediately overrides whatever negative feelings you might have towards the man. “Try to take slow, deep breaths,” you say calmly, crossing the room quickly.

His face turns red and panic starts to bloom in his darkening, churning eyes as he wheezes. You help him up and out of the chair, and he shudders, leaning all his weight on you. His breathing is too labored and he’s burning up, and you’re not sure he’ll make it the short way to the bed.

Indeed, the two of you only make it a single step before his long legs give way, and it’s all you can do to brace his tall, lean body and keep him from hitting the tile floor hard. Instead, you slide down together, and you make sure to cradle his head as he collapses.

You don’t panic. In fact, you are the calmest you’ve been since meeting the superstar because this you know you can handle. This is what you were born to do.

“We need some help in here!” you shout out to the ward before turning your attention back to Elvis, now sprawled on his back on the floor. You quickly grab the oxygen mask from his bedside and turn the nozzle to get the air flowing.

“Elvis, you’re going to be okay. I need you to try and breathe deep for me, as deep as you can,” you say, fitting the mask over his mouth. He coughs, struggling to get the air in his lungs. He seems in and out of consciousness, those panicked eyes of his now a stormy, glassy gray as they try to focus on you.

“That’s it, just breathe now,” you coo at him, taking his vitals. His pulse is too fast and thready. You give him a small smile, trying to keep him calm.

An orderly, a doctor, and another nurse rush in. You quickly rattle off numbers and facts regarding his respiratory distress.

“Let’s get him on the bed,” the doctor orders, and the four of you lift him on a count of three.

Elvis flails his hand, gripping your arm. It’s certainly not the first time a patient has grabbed you out of fear, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt a jolt of electricity running through you from it. Looking in his eyes, the terror you see there gives you pause.

He’s just a man, you think. A very frightened young man.

And he wants comfort. Care. So, despite wanting to throttle him earlier, you hold his hand. He clings to you as the team tries to stabilize him. Your touch seems to settle him a little, despite the way his eyes flutter and he still gasps for breath.

You all manage to get him breathing better, but he won’t let go of you. He starts to panic again every time you try to move away, throwing his vitals into a tailspin. As weak as he may be, that strong guitar-playing hand of his has you in a vise-like grip. The doctor looks at you judgmentally, and you make it clear that you have no idea why this is happening, that you’d rather not be relegated to hand-holding duty. But since his vitals are better holding your hand, the doctor nods his okay.

Give the VIP patient what he needs, is the clear message.

Elvis stabilizes. The room clears, and you stand at his bedside, waiting for him to fall asleep, to relax, to release you—anything that will allow you to leave and get back to work and forget the last half an hour ever happened. His eyes are closed, but every time you try to slip away, he just pulls you back. You try not to sigh audibly, to let your frustration show. You are usually much more compassionate and professional, rarely letting patients get under your skin. But Elvis…well, he seems to bring out an unwanted side of your normally mild and shy self.

He’s not consciously trying to be bothersome like he was earlier; he’s much too scared and out of it for that, you reason.

And at least this is better than cleaning bedpans, you chuckle, finally deciding to sit on the edge of the bed and make yourself a little more comfortable. You take this somewhat surreal moment to really look at him.

He is truly beautiful. There is an almost angelic innocence about him with his pale skin and high cheekbones, the way his cheeks are somehow both full and soft, but his jaw chiseled at the same time. His lips are pillowy and full, though nearly colorless now due to the lack of oxygen. His hair gleams, a deep, golden chestnut—a far cry from the rebellious black locks he was known for at the height of his fame a few years ago. With his straight nose and fanning, long lashes, it seems as though he was carved in stone by the masters and brought to life somehow.

Your heart skips, quite involuntarily.

Of course, there are imperfections. He’s got a day’s worth of dark stubble growing and you can see places where his skin is mottled from what was probably youthful acne. The circles around his eyes are too dark and…

I am really reaching here, you think. No, you are quite at a loss because even his “imperfections” add to his beauty.

Okay, so objectively, he’s pretty—when he’s quiet and sleeping. It’s just when he opens his big mouth that he becomes less attractive. This reminder makes you feel better and less like a fawning teenager.

Finally, his hand relaxes, and you slip out of his grasp without him reaching for you. As if trying not to wake a sleeping baby, you very slowly and quietly raise yourself off the bed. But curiosity gets the better of you, halting your leave, and you quietly open his chart at the end of the bed.

Your eyes scan the pages quickly, widening, hardly containing your disbelief. They glance up at the unrealistically beautiful young man in the hospital bed. Though you barely know him, and what you do know of him has already driven you mad, you can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and dread.

It’s the thing all his bravado and beauty distracted you from.

Elvis Presley is a very, very ill man.

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strandnreyes · 7 months

Text

thanks for tagging me @welcometololaland @wandering-night19 @three-drink-amy !!

“Want to be on sock duty?” TK asks him with no pressure, but as something for him to do.

His eyes look a little glassy and his cheeks are rosy like he’s trying to keep his emotions at bay. He clears his throat. “Sure,” he says, slowly digging through the basket to pair their socks while TK folds the rest of the clothes.

When they’re done, TK leans over and kisses the top of his head. “Why don’t you go take a bath?” he offers. The storm has died down to just rain for the time being and though it would probably feel good on Carlos’ weary body, TK’s really just trying to give him an out.

Carlos looks five seconds away from crying and if he doesn’t want to do it in front of TK, that’s fine. As long as he does it. TK would prefer that Carlos would just let himself be held right here, but he’s not going to force it.

Carlos takes up his suggestions and the water runs behind the ajar bathroom door while TK puts their clean clothes away in the bedroom. When he’s done, he starts looking for a movie to watch when Carlos is back out here. He’s not sure if he’s aiming for something that Gabriel might’ve liked or something so far removed from that, but when he hears a heartbroken sob from the bathroom, he abandons it all together.

“Baby?” He knocks softly on the slightly open door, not wanting to take away his sense of privacy. “Can I please come in?”

Carlos’ responding ‘yes’ is quiet and TK is crouched next to the tub a second later. Carlos’ face is buried in his hands, but TK doesn’t have to see his eyes to know how much pain he’s in. He sniffles once and then coughs, like he’s trying to stop another sound from escaping him that’s as wounded as the first one was. He resists TK’s attempts to try to pull his arms back a little and TK doesn’t think twice before stepping into the tub next to him, clothes and all.

“TK?” Carlos calls out, sounding a little strangled.

“Shh,” TK quiets him, maneuvering him into his arms. “Shut up. Let me hold you.”

“Your jeans are wet,” he says weakly and TK shakes his head, kissing Carlos’ head and temple before pressing Carlos’ face into his neck.

tagging @thisbuildinghasfeelings @tailoredshirt @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @rosedavid @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @catanisspicy @heartstringsduet @hoko-onchi-writes @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @beautifulhigh @paperstorm @freneticfloetry @alrightbuckaroo @orchidscript + anyone else!!

#911 lone star #tarlos #wip wednesday

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josephseedismyfather · 1 month

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5 songs, 3 outfits

Many thanks to @carlosoliveiraa, @g0dspeeed, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @inafieldofdaisies, @the-silver-chronicles, @noodlecupcakes and @la-grosse-patate, for tagging me in this!🥰 It was really fun! Sorry for the delay, I know it's a reallllly old tag!

Rules: Post 5 songs associated with your OC(s), followed by 3 outfits they would wear.

Harley Jane ❤️

Anyone - Demi Lovato I feel stupid when I pray Why the fuck am I praying anyway? If nobody's listening

Gasoline - Halsey I think there's a flaw in my code These voices won't leave me alone Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold

I Like It Rough - Lady Gaga Is it 'cause you don't mean it, or because I don't feel it unless it's rough?

FU In My Head - Cloudy June Take me closer, take my clothes off, oh I fantasize If I'm honest, it's more fun when you can't read my mind

Sappy - Nirvana And if you fool yourself You will make him happy

Evangeline Rose 💛

From The Dining Table - Harry Styles I see it's written, it's all over his face Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won't you ever say what you want to say? Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Hymm For The Weekend - Coldplay When I was down, when I was hurt You came to lift me up When I was a river, dried up You came to rain a flood

Hands Clean - Alanis Morissette Ooh, this could be messy but But you don't seem to mind and Ooh, don't go telling everybody And overlook this supposed crime We'll fast forward to a few years later And no one knows except the both of us And I have honored your request for silence And you've washed your hands clean of this

Prodigal - One Republic I'm on the road to who knows where? Look ahead, not behind, I keep saying There's no place to go where you're not there On your rope, I hold tight, but it's fraying

Selling Faith - Matchbox Twenty And I know I ain't been righteous But there ain't nowhere to turn I'm falling, but I don't know how far down I don't need to understand it I just need a guiding light

Austin Randal 💙

Here I Go Again - Whitesnake Though I keep searching for an answer I never seem to find what I'm looking for

I Go To Extremes - Billy Joel Sometimes I lie awake, night after night Coming apart at the seams Eager to please, ready to fight

Sin - Nine Inch Nails It comes down to this, your kiss, your fist, and your strain It gets under my skin, within, take in the extent of my sin

Painkiller - Judas Priest Mankind's on its knees A savior comes from out the skies In answer to their pleas

Wasted Time - Skid Row Paranoid delusions, they haunt you Where's my friend I used to know? He's all alone, he's buried deep within A carcass searching for a soul Can you feel me inside your heart as it's bleeding? Why can't you believe you can be loved?

Even though it's old, gonna send it out. Apologies for doubles and no pressure as always! @wrathfulrook, @trench-rot, @ladyoriza, @cassietrn, @redreart, @hotmessteaparty, @v0idbuggy, @insanityofvaas, @malefiquinn, @strangefable, @chazz-anova, @aristomal, @ocdemon-747, @omen-speaker and anybody else who wants to play. Tag me! 😘

Be added/removed from the tag list here.

#oc: harley jane #oc: evangeline rose #oc: deputy austin randal #tagged 🖤#character aesthetics #wip playlist #far cry 5 oc #far cry 5 wip

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wordsofhoneydew · 5 months

Text

happy wip wednesday!!

hello everyone, i hope you’re all doing well!! thank you @anincompletelist for the tag <3. i finally get to post at a decent time because of the break!

last week i decided that this fandom needed some wlw rwrb content so i wrote a very short June x Bea ficlet :P. lmk if you guys would want an actual fic made out of this friends to lovers concept ?

“Bea!” June squeals as she squirms against Bea’s fingers on her waist. “I’m trying to write this freaking- Ah! paper!”

“Then write!” Bea teases as she continues tickling June’s side.

In all actuality, June wasn’t bothered by Bea’s impishness. If anything she secretly loved it. She loved how physically comfortable Bea was with her. The time they spent together was always buoyant, perhaps even flirtatious, June hoped. But she was always stuck on that thin line between friends and maybe more. Though, what she wasn’t muddled about is her unequivocal feelings for Beatrice.

Those prominent butterflies that erupted in the pit of her stomach every time Bea touches her arm, or when Bea throws around pet names like love and darling. Especially in moments like these, where June pretends to be engrossed in her studies while Bea tries to divert her attention to her. When, in fact, June’s attention was already fixated on the blonde girl sitting next to her.

“Do you want me to fail?” June feigned the exasperation in her voice, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept up on her lips.

“Maybe,” Bea bites her lip, looking back at June with the big blue orbs that allure every bit of desire out of her without fail. June couldn’t help but look at the way her teeth were tacked down on the pink flesh of her bottom lip. She longed to kiss her. She needed it now.

June, without even thinking, says, “Is it weird that I want to kiss you right now?”

Bea’s face lights up and her smile gets wider, showing all her teeth, and oh god- If June wasn’t already sitting on the floor, her knees would have given out on her that very instant.

Bea’s shoulder was brushing against June’s now, her head tilted forward slightly. “Is it weird that I want you to?” June’s breath hitched in her throat, and it was as if she had forgotten how to breathe. Their faces were so close, that she could smell the strawberry lip balm Bea always wore, and she was just fervent to taste it.

June closes the minimal space that dangled heavily between them with an eager, pining kiss. Bea wasted no time reciprocating her energy. Their lips moved flush against each other, the cadence of their kiss quick and feverish. Bea pulls away from the kiss to remove the laptop from June’s grasp, replacing it by swinging one of her legs over June’s lap and straddling her. June looks up at her with her eyes potent with aspiration, and her cheeks flushed a deep pink under her brown skin. Bea reaches over with a shaky hand to push a strand of June’s hair away from her face.

“Fucking eyelashes,” Bea murmurs before tucking June’s hair further back to attach her lips to her neck.

no pressure tag for: @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @littlemisskittentoes @getmehighonmagic @england-would-fall @read-and-write- @myheartalivewrites @indestructibleheart @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @welcometololaland @sparklepocalypse @bitbybitwrites and to anyone who sees this!! please tag me so i can read your work and so i can reblog<3

have a wonderful thanksgiving<3

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tooruhearts · 2 years

Text

and a whisper of yours.

and a whisper of his has you trembling.

→ feat. childe || genres: angst, fluff || warnings: injuries and blood

the breakup happens fast.

there’s yelling, shouting, crying. there are words that should have never been spoken, there are harsh truths and blatant lies. there are doubts being thrown around, and hearts that can’t beat anymore.

you only spout hurt and more hurt out of your mouth and childe can’t take it anymore. his body hardens with every word you say and his chest feels like it’s on fire. the sight of you crying is enough to make him contort his face in pain.

“and you were so reckless! do you know how much it broke me to see you covered in bruises?” your voice is laced with worry and anger and childe doesn’t know which one he should fear more.

“it’s part of the job! i thought you more than anyone else would be able to understand that!”

“and i do! but you’re always doing things like these and it’s just… you act like i’m not here!”

you’re pleading to him at this point. your voice breaking and chest heaving from the pressure. “do you not trust me?” is the only thing you can say at this point, and you repeat it over and over again as if that would make childe answer.

but childe doesn’t have an answer to that. the words are stagnant in his throat and he can’t seem to force himself to speak. he’s petrified. and at some point, you start yelling and he tries to deny everything you say.

minutes later, things die down and feelings cool down. you’re both tired, tired of fighting, with huffing breaths and abating hearts.

“forget it, you’re a f*cking assh*le.”

“maybe i am.”

and childe walks out of the door. you don’t expect him to come back, and neither does he.

“is that blood?”

“… no?”

it’s three am and something when childe stumbles into your house. there’s a ghastly scar which runs across his arm and his hair is disheveled. you don’t question it much, the lateness and the scars and him, and just proceed to treat his injuries.

(you also don’t hide your gasp of surprise when childe removes his shirt just to reveal even more wounds.)

“why did you come to me?” you ask, while working on his back.

“because i trust you,” he whispers.

childe notices how you falter in your movements when he says that—he wonders if you’re still hurt about that. there’s a comfortable silence in the air, and that makes childe wonder where did everything go wrong.

and maybe he doesn’t know how things turned sour, or when, but he knows why. and the answer is him, it’s his fault. childe doesn’t know if he deserves a second chance, but he also doesn’t want to dwell on that as he grabs your hand and turns around to look at you.

you look shocked, staring at the same eyes you’ve been avoiding for the past weeks. your eyes are wide but they widen even more when you hear what childe says.

“please come back to me.”

a/n: sorry for censoring some words, the post was not appearing in the tags :((

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ladylamrian · 5 months

Note

Hey There! I saw this, and I couldn't agree more! Nothing says I love you more than "I'm willing to try this for you." And this works for all kinds of relationships: romance, friends, and family, too.

Would you be able to create something showing this for one of your characters or pairings? It could be a drabble, fic, edit, art - anything at all!

NO PRESSURE AT ALL - only if you want to, but I'd love to see what you could come up with!

A meeting in Wyoming (F!MC×Nik)

F!Main Character: Alex

Pairing: F!MC × Nik Ryder (Nightbound)

Summary: Alex and Nik were invited to visit Jacqueline in Wyoming, Alex's mom. Will Nik be able to impress his girlfriend's mother?

Word counting: 4.4K

Fluff ● Romance ● Comedy ● Family ● Winter

Rating: Teen/Mature (Fluff, Love, Comedy, Smut, Hurt)

Warnings: family problems, light and less detailed smut, parental problems, mention of death & unwanted pregnancy

Author's note: The funny childhood memories weren't made up... It was naughty me 🤭🤭 Also yes, I canon Nik's birthday beeing in winter... I decided to give him my birthday, January 23rd (01/23/??). Since according the Nightbound book, the Main Character's birthday takes place around Mardi Gras.

-> -> -> Full Masterlist here <- <- <-

Thank you so much to anyone who takes the time to read, like, comment, or reblog my stories/fanfics. It means so much to me! Please inform me if you would like to be added/removed from my new Tag List.

Taglist: @infactnoimmasitinthemiddle ; @lilyoffandoms ; @lawrencebarkley ; @secretaryunpaid ; @blackcatkita ; @peonierose ; @hopelessromantic1352 ; @mariemarieohcontrary ; @mxdanni ; @jdstar88 ; @choicesficwriterscreations for the CFWC Holiday Event 2023 ; @choicesholidays & @choicesflashfics for the Winter Prompts

Prompt #1: "I'll try that, for you. I may not like it, but I'll try it."

Prompt #2: "I'm thankful for you" for @choicesholidays

Prompt #3: Winter, Family gathering, Pre-Christmas time, Old Memories, Christmas memories for CFWC Holiday Event on @choicesficwriterscreations

Prompt #4: "Now, I’m really nervous to meet your family." for @choicesflashfics

Prompt #5: "I made you two some hot chocolate too." for @choicesflashfics

On a cold winter day in Wyoming, the young couple in their formal business wears stepped inside the elevator, pressed the button to reach the highest floor of the crystalline building. They're soon to meet and enter the office of Jacqueline Fontaine, mother of Alex Clarissa Fontaine.

"Looking handsome today, Nik. Like a real business man.", she praised Nik's new outfit. Both of them carried their wet winter coats in their arms.

"Have to look great if I want to impress your mom, right? And you look like a real business woman, rook.", he confessed to Alex who wore a light blouse, a black skirt and matching heeled boots.

"Thanks, Nik. My mother is a businesswoman, so why not show some respect, huh? She likes a formal dress code. Besides, don't forget to behave yourself too. The look isn't the only thing that matters."

"I always behave myself, rook. You sayin' this to me?? I'm a total gentleman. No big deal, relax. Let's just quickly make out a bit in the elevator before someone else enters it. Besides, it'll take time till we reach the top of the building. So why not enjoy a bit and loosen ourselves?"

"Niiiiiiik, behave. Not in my mom's office.", she rolled her eyes and he chuckled as she delivered a soft, playful punch on his shoulder

"Just kiddin', rook. Don't worry. But... You look so damn hot today that I would like to. Not my fault that you're ruining the gentleman inside me.", he mischievously smiled at her.

As the two reached the highest floor, they left the elevator and walked hand in hand towards the dark, wooden door with a metallic name plate on it. It said: Jacqueline Fontaine's Office (Accountant & CEO). (-> Pinterest moodboard here)

"We're here. You nervous?", she asked him and knocked lightly at the door.

"Maybe a little. Damn, she's a successful business woman. She must have high standards and I... Now, I’m really nervous to meet your family. What did you tell your mom about me?"

"Uhhh, that you're a hot police officer. I mean... I couldn't tell her that you're a nighthunter, right? The supernatural world must be a secret for the safety of both worlds. And umm, a police officer seemed to be the closest related to your job, right?"

"Guess so. Hey, why isn't your mom opening?"

"Hmmm, guess I didn't knock loud enough or she isn't here.", Alex wondered and decided to open the door herself.

With Nik close behind her, she stepped inside the office where her mother was sitting at her large desk, but she wasn't alone. In front of her were her clients who were probably discussing a business matter with her. Alex's mother was surprised when she suddenly saw her daughter in front of her. The mother wore a light blouse and a short, black skirt. Earrings were hidden behind her black, shoulder-length hair. Her fair skin was covered with make-up. For her age, the woman has definitely held herself good.

"Alex??! Dear, what are you doing here all of a sudden? I'm having a very important business meeting. Very important, dear.", she signaled to leave.

"But... But you wanted to meet us and..."

"Later, darling. Later, not now. Wait in the hall for me. And next time, you better knock before entering.", she stood up and ushered her and Nik outside of the room to leave. The door got closed in front of the two.

"Damn, that was... rude. Rook, didn't you inform your mom that we were coming? Was there an exact time planned or..."

"Shut up, Nik!!! Quiet!!! I'm super annoyed and disappointed right now!!! And of course, I informed her!!! The fact that she's the one who invited us.", she faced him with anger which made Nik worry.

Of course, she wasn't mad at him, but somehow he felt hurt by her harsh words like shutting him up. They rarely had a fight and if they were arguing, then it was often how overprotective Nik was or how Alex put herself into danger again.

"I... I'm sorry, rook.", he looked away and both took a seat on a nearby couch in the waiting area. For a few minutes, it was total silence between the couple. Nik waiting for Alex would calm herself down. When he finally looked at her, he saw her wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing them against her body while closing her eyes.

"Rook, are you okay?", he got worried and moved closer for a hug.

"It's cold. I hate winter."

"I was born in winter."

"I hate the winter, not you. I'm sorry how I yelled at you. Now please, take me home."

"But we just arrived in Wyoming, rookie. The flight took five hours and... Who told you to wear a skirt? Suffering for fashion."

"I know, I know, I regret that too. Let's... let's go to my home in Wyoming. My mom's home. Let's take our luggage back from the reception downstairs and go.", she finally opened her chocolate-brown eyes to meet his.

After the young couple in their winter coats collected their luggage from the receptionist who was so kind to take care of it, so they didn't have to carry or roll it around. She also handed Alex a mysterious envelope and gave directions to the nearest bus stop.

Both put on their winter gloves while they waited for the bus outside in the cold until it arrived. It was already full of passengers, so they had to stand and hold on tight. The gloved hands tightly wrapped around the holding loops as their bodies were pressed at each other's.

"Why's the bus so full?", Alex got upset.

"Hey, cheer up. At least you're stuck here with me.", he tried to lighten up her mood, and removed his hand from the holding loop to hold her which made her smile.

After a short drive, Nik and Alex arrived in front of a nice family house. It was a sturdy two-story residence designed with a wide garden, large balconies, a screened-front porch, and a free-standing garage. A few CCTV cameras guarded the property, but that wouldn't stop Alex from entering her own mother's home where she spent most of her childhood.

"Nice place, rookie", he let a low whistle out while he inspected the property.

"Oh yeah? Wait till you see the penthouse my adoptive father gifted my mom on their anniversary. Now would you come over here and give me a lift?", she requested while trying to reach the nearest window of the house.

"Uhhh, where are the keys?"

"I don't have the keys, Nik. I gave them back to my mom after I decided to move out, silly.", she giggled and desperately tried to reach the open window but failed. Instead, her heeled winter boots made her slip, but Nik quickly managed to catch her and prevent her from falling.

"But Alex, we can't just break in like this. That's illegal and right now your mom might be seeing us through these cameras she has placed around the house while sitting in her office. And the neighbors..."

"The neighbors know me unless they're new. Besides I'm Jacqueline's daughter, so everything that belongs to her belongs to me. Well, maybe not everything, I think. But don't worry if the cops arrive, I'll talk to them. So could you just real quick climb through the window, enter the house, and open the front door, please? I'm freezing."

"But your mom wouldn't be impressed by me. She'll hate me. I want to show her my best side, rook. I can be a true gentleman too."

"Would a true gentleman let a lady freeze in the cold outside?"

"Okay, fiiiine. I'll try that, for you. I may not like it, but I'll try it."

And with that Nik began to climb a tree near the building and slipped through the nearest open window inside Jacqueline's house. It would have been much easier if he wasn't wearing the nice, formal clothes and the new winter coat that Alex bought him for this trip. When he finally landed on stable ground, he searched for the light switch in a dark room. When he found it, he turned on the light and discovered that he was standing in a kitchen.

"Guess Jacqueline is expecting guests today.", he wondered as he saw preperations for food and beautiful table decorations on the table.

Without losing any time he began heading towards the front door of the house to quickly let Alex inside. Poor girl must be already freezing outside. As he moved his hand towards the handle to finally open the door, he froze. He heard a clicking sound appearing from outside and the door lock began to move.

"Damn, someone's opening the door. Alex's mom is here!!! I'm doomed. I'm soooo doomed. Worse gentleman ever. She caught us and she'll..."

"Who caught us?"

"Alex?!!! How did you?", he couldn't believe his eyes that the one who was opening the door was Alex. She's alone. Nobody was standing behind her and she was holding the keys of the house in her hand.

"Nik, I just remembered. Mom did give me the keys to her house!! Remember the receptionist? Mom delivered her second key through the receptionist to me. That's what was inside this envelope the whole time. Mom just texted me, she'll stop here by later.", she victoriously smiled while holding the key in front of Nik's face.

"I can't believe you, rookie. You're full of surprises.", Nik akwardly ran his hand over his hair, took the luggage from her and carried it inside as she closed the door from behind. Both rub the dirt away from their boots on the rug, get off their winter gloves and hang their coats on an empty standing clothes rack.

"Yup, sorry that you had to climb. Now we're inside, so we can relax a bit. I'll show you the house."

"I already saw the kitchen. What I'm interested to see is your room? I bet it's upstairs.", he grinned, left the luggage in the hall and already sprinted upstairs.

"Don't you dare, Nik!!!", she quickly followed behind him to catch him.

"Stop me if you can, rook!!"

"Holy light... So much... pink?", his eyes got wider as he stood inside Alex's childhood room and analyzed his surroundings.

The children's room was still in good condition and looked very cozy. The pink-painted walls were decorated with pictures and posters of flowers and majestic horses. Even the blankets, pillows, and sheets on the bed were pink. Almost everything was pink, white, and lavender colored. Soft plush animals were lined up on the bed. A white plush kitty, a pink plush bunny, and more little cuddly friends.

Nik moved closer to a book shelf, bending a little down to inspect the books. Children's books about princesses, fairies, unicorns, and other fairytales.

"I always dreamed to be a fairy, talk to animals and save the world.", Alex leaned against the doorframe and explained. Her eyes shimmered with happiness as she got reunited with her past and the beautiful, old memories she had as a little girl.

"Well, your dream came true. You're partly fae. Royalty and with your powers you can do anything. Even save the world."

"Yeah, somehow you're right. Just the fairy wings are missing. I wish I could fly."

"But you get to fly on a dragon in the fae realm."

"Hmm... Well... I also dreamed of a prince. My dream prince, a prince charming who will take care of me, make me happy and shower me with love. Just like Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty. But instead, I got the Prince of Swords. I got you, Nik. And I wouldn't trade it for anything because I love you just the way you are.", she happily confessed, moved closer to him, and rested her arms around his shoulders while he pulled her even closer till their lips were about to meet.

"You're truly a beauty, Alex. I love you too and I'm glad you came into my life. You're... you're so damn perfect. You're gorgeously beautiful, my princess. No, you're my Queen.", he got closer and moved his arms around her waist. His cheeks leaned to hers as he planted a kiss.

"Oh, Nik...", she leaned closer to him and grabbed the black tie he was wearing. Nik Ryder looked like a handsome gentleman today. Since she saw him in this formal suit. Well groomed and the masculine smell of his long-lasting perfume which she couldn't resist, so she started kissing him.

"Careful, I don't want to be covered with red lipstick marks. Your mom wouldn't...", he tried to warn her, but didn't pull away. He couldn't resist her either. He wanted more and closed the distance between them. He is all over her. His arms are around her and his lips seeking her's. She couldn't resist and he couldn't resist. The two of them are locked in a passionate embrace, feeling the hot closeness of their bodies, and enjoying the sensations the other evokes. Lost in that moment.

Yet it’s not enough, and Nik was feeling it too. He eventually broke away from her and looked deep into her chocolate-brown eyes.

"I don’t want to talk anymore," he confessed intensely and led her to the bed. "I want you, Alex. I wanted you before too. Now. Here. With me."

Soon enough, both tumbled onto the bed and proceeded to explore one another, discovering which touches were the most pleasing. Nik was everything she fantasized he would be and equally committed to giving pleasure as receiving it. Alex didn't care anymore that she was lying with Nik on her large childhood bed. And surprisingly it was enough space for both of them.

Together they stoked the fires of desire until neither of them could bear it anymore. They came together again and again. The feeling of being as one is all-consuming and they almost lost track of all time.

In the end, both let the waves of pleasure cascade over each other and then collapsed into one another’s waiting arms.

Nik looked into her face, his eyes slightly wide and an expression of almost awe on his face. "You're so… incredible."

"So are you, Nik."

After an intimate moment and some kisses, they finally pulled away from each other and headed back downstairs.

"Alex, you're so smokin' hot. I want you to seduce me. Let's... let's... let's continue this later.", he whispered.

"Nik, you're being so naughty right now. In my mom's house? Where is your gentleman's behavior now?", she giggled and gave his shoulder a soft punch.

"I have fallen under your spell, my beautiful Queen."

"Yes, my King."

After Alex showed Nik the rest of the house. Both entered the living room at last where they were greeted with a small hiss. On a nearby shelf, there was a small, green snake in a terrarium watching them which made Nik a little nervous. Jacqueline's pet snake, Slitter.

"Guess, it doesn't like us. Very typical. Slitter only likes my mom and nobody else. Still wishing it was a cuddly kitten or bunny instead of a snake."

But Nik got busy admiring the family photos hanging on the wall. The young people in the picture were looking so happy. A happy family. A family he also wanted to have and share his childhood and memories with, but unfortunately he lost his parents when he was way too young. Then, his eyes fell on the tiny, silver-haired girl in the picture smiling.

"Rook, you look cute. And your silvery hair...?"

"Yup, that's me standing with my mom and my adoptive father in front of the Christmas tree. We celebrated Christmas every year together here and I got a lot of presents. I miss those times because now we barely have time for each other. Always busy with business and work. And, yes, my silvery hair... Nobody believed me that it was my natural hair color. That I was born with it.", she answered while trying not to get too emotional in the sudden flow of memories.

"Silver. You got the black hair from your mother and the silvery-white from..."

"My dad, Elric. Yes. Yes, I figured it out too. Later when I found out about the existence of my father. I... I still can't believe how my mom hid this from me. She told me that after my birth my father died and...", she almost cried and felt Nik's arms around her body trying to comfort her.

"Shhh, I'm here Alex."

"Oh, Nik... I..."

"Alex, my dear.", a sudden voice appeared which made Alex and Nik turn around to see.

"Mom??!! You're here??!! Since when? We didn't hear you coming.", Alex panicked just as Nik and both separated from each other's embrace. Nik's cheeks turned softly red out of embarrassment and secretly hoped that Jacqueline didn't find out about his and Alex's doings upstairs.

"Misses Fontaine, it's a pleasure to finally..."

"Alex, I just entered the house and I already heard everything I needed to know. So you found out about the secret of your biological father? Oh, of course, you would one day, especially when you decide to stay in crazy New Orleans.", she interrupted Nik to explain herself.

"Mom, why?"

"To protect you. That's all, to protect you!! New Orleans, is that crazy place... Kristin and you just had to go there to celebrate your 25th birthday. Dear, you have no idea what I have been through all. Nothing is as it seems there. It's dangerous and New York isn't safe anymore either."

"Mom, you know... about the supernatural world?"

"Don't say anything more. I don't want to think or talk about this matter right now. You're the only person I care about and have left in this world now with the recent death of your adoptive father. I love you and I don't want to lose you too."

"Not when she has me.", Nik confidently stepped closer to Alex and embraced her and gave Jacqueline a reassuring smile. Alex's mother easily forgot her worry and smiled at the man.

"You must be Nik, my daughter's boyfriend? You seem aware of this world too. I hope you will keep my child safe."

"Of course, I'll take care of Alex. I'll protect her and always be by her side. Nothing will harm her on my watch, I swear. And yeah, I am aware of the World of Night. I lost my parents at the hands of monsters. They got killed in front of me when I was a child. I was the only one who survived.", he felt to explain his matter towards Jacqueline even though it hurt to bring back old memories.

"Oh, I didn't know. Poor Nik child, I'm so sorry to hear. Alex and I will be your family from now on. Besides, we're not actually here to remember the past. Let's focus on the future. I'm Jacqueline Fontaine, the beautiful mother of my beautiful Alex. Please, take a seat on the couch in the living room, I'll bring something to eat. I made you two some hot chocolate too."

"No need for that, we'll have together dinner anyway. Thanks for this invitation, Misses..."

"Just Jacqueline would be fine. Please note these formalities with me even though I am a successful businesswoman and accountant. Such a gentleman you are, Nik. We're family and with Christmas just around the corner, I'd love it if the two would stay longer with me till the holidays end. I never thought I would feel so lonely.", she confessed which surprised Alex.

"What if you get busy with work again?", Alex asked.

"Dear, family comes first and I should have realized that years ago. I'm sorry what happened today in my office, but my client... well... he wasn't easy to handle. But I feel so ashamed that I couldn't give you the time and attention you deserved since you were a child. That your adoptive father had to look over you because I couldn't. You're my everything and the only thing I have left now. I might have not liked suddenly being pregnant and I wasn't happy, but your adoptive father supported me. He helped me by giving you a chance and I don't regret it. I love you, Alex. I love you so much, darling. You remind me of your father, Elric. I still love him and I hope he hasn't forgotten me."

"Oh Mom, love you too. I thought... I always thought I'm not good enough for you.", Alex crashed into her mother for a hug while tears welled up in her eyes.

"Shhh, my darling. Quiet. You're here now with me and I'm glad Nik brought you to me. I'm thankful for you. I'm thankful for having you with me, sweety.", Jacqueline whispered and moved her eyes towards Nik. The man was silently standing in front of them and then left to give mother and daughter some privacy.

"Mom, there's one thing you should know... I personally met my father, Lord Elric in Lamrian.", she confessed which surprised Jacqueline because she would never have expected that.

"How did you find him so easily? Or how did he recognize you? Is he okay?"

"He... He... He died, mom. I just found him and then I lost him. We only shared a few hours, but they were beautiful ones. Truly the best.", she sniffed.

"No!! No... It can't be... How could this happen? He... I still love him and I can't believe he's gone. I should have visited him, but I was such a coward to face New Orleans again. Poor Thalissa.", she deeply regretted and wiped her tears away.

"Mom, Elric sacrificed his life to save mine from a bloodwraith. If it wasn't for him, I... I would probably be dead already."

"A bloodwraith? That's impossible!! How? Don't return there any..."

"That's okay, mom. The bloodwraith got defeated and everyone is safe now. It's safe now. And Elric still loved you and shared beautiful stories and compliments about with me you. He still remembers you.", she reported which gave Jacqueline a positive and warm feeling. That the kindest man who ruled over her heart still loved her, even though she already moved on with someone else.

But there was also more to share. That Jacqueline's daughter, Alex was not only a half-fae but also the next heir of Lamrian and that she unlocked her magic powers with the help of Lord Elric. She can do magic. Maybe she'll tell this Jacqueline another time and not everything at once. Besides, it was time to let her mother explain how she got plunged into the supernatural world. What's her story?

When she asked, Jacqueline's expression turned bitter and she decided to tell this another time. Not now. Now it was time for joy, to have a great family bonding time, and get to know her daughter's boyfriend better. She called Nik back and all three were seated on a fluffy sofa in the living room, having hot chocolate to drink and stories to tell. Jacqueline excitedly showed Nik her family album and pointed at the pictures.

"This photo was taken by Alex's adoptive father after Alex was born in the hospital. The nurses were so amazed that she had so much hair already. Ooooh, look how cute my baby looks wearing a gown in that picture. Like a mini-princess.", she enjoyed Nik's company.

"She was a cute child indeed and she's still beautiful."

"Thanks to my fae genes.", Alex added.

"Right, that's my baby girl. The prettiest baby of all. Such a natural beauty. When she sleeps, she's basically a Sleeping Beauty. Oh, have I told you the story where we were traveling to Dubai and how she played with her mouth out of boredom because we had to wait? I don't know if it was Dubai, but definitely somewhere in that region. She made that weird noise which made the police officers laugh and then, they let us enter first. Ha! Or the story where she was wearing squeaky shoes in the supermarket which irritated the customers who were trying to find the source of that noise? Ooooh, I have another story where little Alex stole a high heel from a shoe shop."

"Mooooommm??!! I was sitting in a baby stroller. It happened by mistake.", Alex freaked out a little which made Nik laugh.

"A high-heel for a baby??!! Hahahaha!!! Didn't know you were a huge troublemaker since childhood, rook? Jacqueline, Alex hasn't changed a bit. Still the same cute and naughty girl. A total trouble-maker."

"Nik!!! Very funny. Laugh how much you want. Mom, tell him the whole story like you told it to me. I picked up the high-heel to play with it in my baby stroller. You didn't notice till we got home and went back to return it.", she explained.

But Jacqueline was too excited and continued with Alex's childhood stories and showed several pictures. Baby pictures, pictures when her daughter was a toddler, and school pictures till teenage life.

"Nik, isn't my Alex so beautiful? I hope my grandchildren will also be lovely babies like Alex.", she said which made Nik and Alex turn red. Nik immediately tried to change the topic and pointed at another picture.

"Uhhh, well... I... Oh wow, Alex was a cheerleader at high school? How athletic. That might explain some of the moves she got."

"I was doing martial arts as well, Nik. When I was a child before joining high school.", Alex proudly added.

"Hey, did you make that weird noise with your mouth again? The one you did in front of the cops? Could you show me that, please?", he smirked which made Alex a bit angry.

"Nik, you...", she hissed as he made fun of her.

"Alex, behave yourself!! Nik was just being friendly. He's my guest. Be nice to him.", Jacqueline wished.

"Sorry, Alex. I was just enjoying your childhood stories."

"Wait till I ask anyone about your own embarrassing childhood stories, Nik. Or anything spicy."

"Who will you ask?", he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'll figure it out somehow.", she confidently smirked at him and winked. Sweet revenge as they say.

After an eventful evening, the three had a delicious dinner together in the dining hall. Nik already knew secretly what food Jacqueline cooked for them since he was the one who climbed up the window which led him to the kitchen.

As the cold winter night descended, they were all getting ready for bed. Jacqueline requested Alex to sleep in her childhood room and Nik in the guest room before she went to bed. The young couple kissed to have a good night to each other before heading towards their rooms. After all, they agreed to stay with Jacqueline till Christmas to make the lonely woman happy.

"You know Nik, when my mother said that you're our family now... I think she already accepts you as her son-in-law.", she giggled, ran away and left him alone, wide-eyed with an open mouth.

"Alex! Hey, come back here. Youuuu... Wait till I find you under a mistletoe, you little troublemaker."

After Christmas...

"Oh Tonya, my friend, this year I had a wonderful Christmas. I celebrated with my daughter who I hadn't seen for so long. Today she's leaving with her boyfriend, but she promised to visit again and call me more often. And I will definitely visit her too and perhaps stop by to see you too, my friend. I'm just so glad to be united with her again. All our misunderstandings are gone now. How were your holidays, Tonya?", Jacqueline was talking with an old friend from New Orleans on the phone while admiring the decorated page her child created for the photo album with the title "Alex's Winter in Wyoming with Nik."

In the meantime, Alex and Nik were outside to enjoy the winter weather. Both were standing in their ice skates on a frozen lake and holding each other's hands, as Alex was trying to teach Nik how to ice skate. She was an excellent skater and wanted Nik to have some winter fun and try something new.

"Nik, you're doing great. Try to hold... Woaah!!", she fell on Nik as he suddenly lost his balance and crashed with her on the ice. Their faces were near as Alex was lying on Nik.

"Sorry rook, I..."

"Shhh...", she got closer to him until their lips met each other's to a passionate kiss.

-> Learn more about the past in this fanfic <-

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