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lovebeinaprincessworld · 2 months

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Another world (Neteyam x reader)

Masterlist

Description: Falling into a world you only knew from a movie wasn’t in your cards, but falling for Neteyam - maybe life dealt you the right ones this time.

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, breeding kind, talk abt getting pregnant, small wounds and blood, talk abt dead parents/grandparents (readers)

Neteyam is aged up to like 21, reader is abt 19, the humans never came back and there’s no spider bc you know I don’t like him ahaha

15716 words

It had been a normal day for you - until it hadn’t. You were on your way home from work, your shift in the dingy little kiosk finally over, and your small apartment was waiting for you. You thought of the empty room that was once your grandmas, who would’ve been waiting for you a few months prior, but now she was gone and you had no one left. She and your grandpa had raised you, when your parents had died in an armed robbery. You were so small you didn’t really remember them, and your grandparents didn’t like to talk about the horrible day their daughter and son-in-law were ripped from them but you saw the newspaper cutouts they kept, and your heart broke everytime you caught a glimpse of them.

They did the best they could with their limited resources and their old age, even if money was tight most of the time, you never once stayed hungry and always felt loved. But now that the both of them were gone, you were all alone in the world and without being able to afford a college education, your future looked really depressing. The only thing you were looking forward to after working was watching your crime shows and crocheting.

You turned left, only needing to cross through the small park now and you would’ve been home, but when you started to descend the stairs at the entrance you were startled by a bright white light at the bottom. Being your clumsy self, you missed a step because of the distraction, your hand not grabbing the (probably disgustingly dirty) handle quick enough and you were falling forward.

Cursing you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for impact and hoping that the light you saw wasn’t some kind of new human trafficking tactic. But instead of landing on the hard concrete, everything around you turned so bright you even saw it though your eyelids, and when the light suddenly stopped, and you were still falling and falling and falling, you forced yourself to open your eyes.

Your scream got stuck in your throat, on one hand from all the air that was blowing in your face, and on the other from the view that revealed itself. For a moment you forgot that you were falling towards it, and just admired what seemed to be an almost endless jungle, that glowed like the bioluminescent algae you once saw on discovery channel.

But then your brain seemed to catch up after all and you let out a bloodcurdling scream when you realized that - as beautiful as the sight was - it was also coming closer and closer really fast. The only question bouncing around in your head was ‚What the hell was happening here?‘

The canopy came closer and closer and just before you hit it, you squeezed your eyes shut again, shutting your mouth out of instinct and shielding your head with your arms. It hurt like a bitch, the twigs and leaves scratching and slapping you on your way down, but simultaneously you were glad you hadn’t hit the ground or a big branch yet.

The trees were slowing you down quite a bit, but suddenly you did hit the ground with a thud. You just stayed there for a moment, contemplating if you were dead, but then you noticed that the „ground“ you hit, was moving and making noises, and suddenly you were hauled up by your upper arms, and sat on the real ground.

„What the hell?“, someone grumbled from the left and you finally opened your eyes, the adrenaline in your body blending out the pain from your injuries. What the fuck. What the actual fuck! You were sitting on the ground, surrounded by what seemed to be characters from the movie Avatar, but this couldn’t be real, could it?

You had of course seen the movie, it had been a huge success when you were like 13 or something, but that was a fictional world! This had to be a dream or something - nope it wasn’t, you were pinching yourself so hard you were sure you would bruise and you were still there - or maybe you died when you fell down those stairs? Oh god, oh god they were staring at you and damn they were tall what were you supposed to do oh-

„Who the hell are you?“, asked someone you immediately recognized - your brain was digging for the right memories. „I-I’m (Y/N)“, you stuttered out, your eyes wide opened as you scanned the people around you. The one who asked your name was Jake Sully if you remembered correctly and next to him should be…Neytiri. You didn’t recognize the others, but they liked a lot younger, there were a girl and two boys, the older looking one sat on the ground next to you and you realized you must have fallen on top of him. Your brain wasn’t really catching up to what was happening, and they seemed just as confused.

„Where did you come from?“, Jake’s eyebrows were now furrowed like he wasn’t sure what to make of you. „I’m from…I’m from Chicago? I really don’t know what happened I swear, I was just walking back from work and there was t-that light and I fell down the stairs and then I was falling and falling and oh god this can’t be happening, this is only supposed to be a movie-”, you were panicking and rambling on and on until Jake and Neytiri exchanged a look, and he bend down, effectively shutting you up.

„Okay take a deep breath kid“, he urged you and you did your best to force air into your lungs, suddenly wondering why you could even breathe here. If you remembered correctly the humans couldn’t breathe on the planet in the movies, and almost out of reflex you looked down at yourself, a helpless and kinda pathetic squeak leaving your mouth when you saw you were blue. „What the hell, why am I blue“, you didn’t even care about all the scratches that adorned your skin, the only thing that registered in your mind was that you were the same color blue as the people around you, you were even wearing the same stripes, just your clothes remained the same.

Your breathing picked up the more you panicked and before Jake could try to calm you down again, you passed out.

—————————

Neteyam watched the girl fall unconscious, and caught her quickly before she hit her head on the ground. It was weird, almost like an instinct. Since she fell on top of him he was a bit dazed - partly because he was questioning where she was coming from - but also because he was charmed by your beauty.

It was confusing, there were lots of beautiful girls in his clan, but the one that seemingly fell from the sky (from a weird place called sheekago?) and laid in his arms, made his heart pound in an unknown way. Before he could dwell on it, his family interrupted his thoughts and he finally snapped out of it.

„You think the sky people came back ma Jake? Is she with them?“, Neytiri looked at the young woman with suspicion, but Jake only shook his head and slowly pointed to the atokirina floating down from everywhere, landing on you for a moment before spreading into the forest again. „Eywa“, Kiri whispered, and looked at the girl with a small knowing smile.

————————

You woke up and the first thing you noticed was the dull pain all over your body. You were confused for a moment, wondering if something happened at work for you to wake up like this, but then you opened your eyes and saw the brown ceiling of a tent, everything came rushing back to you. Oh my god, you were blue, you were a blue alien!

You contemplated just laying there, staring at the ceiling some more and maybe this would all turn out to be alright, but a head popped into your focus. „You’re awake!“, the girl grinned and you cleared your throat a bit, taking a deep breath (as not to panick again) and sat up with her help.

Your body resisted because of all the cuts, but you managed and noticed they had all been treated with some kind of ointment that was a bit cooling. „My name is Kiri“, the girl introduced herself and you mustered a smile, looking around the tent curiously, „How are you feeling?“

„Kinda hurts“, you sighed and she smiled at that. „Considering you fell from who knows where, you’re pretty lucky! Also lucky that Neteyam cushioned your fall“, she grinned a bit, and you figured he must be the young man that sat next to you in the ground earlier. „Ugh that must’ve hurt too, is he okay?“, you worried that your first impression in this new world (or parallel universe or whatever) was already a bad one.

„My brother’s fine don’t worry“, she reassured you, „I’m going to get my dad, he said to tell him when you wake up!“ She gave you one last nod, before disappearing out of the tent and leaving you alone with your thoughts. This really didn’t feel like a dream, and you were starting to feel like it was a more permanent thing, but you were forcing yourself to stay calm.

Was ist really so bad? You didn’t particularly enjoy your life back in your universe or on your planet or whatever, so maybe this would be okay? Of course you had a few friends, but you worked so much to make ends meet, that you barely saw them, but other than that there wasn’t much.

You sat there and tried to rack your brain for any helpful details from the movie you would need, but you felt like the plot itself must already be like 20 years in the past here if your guess that Kiri is Jake’s daughter is right. You remembered the people living here were called Na‘vi and that they won a war against the humans and most of them left except for a few allies (you remembered the face of that one science guy that came here with Jake in the movie).

And of course you remembered the love story between Jake and Neytiri, which means if Neteyam is Kiris brother, he is also their son. „Hey there“, you were startled out of your thoughts by Jake, he was already kneeling next to you, but you must’ve been so lost in thought that you didn’t notice. „Oh! Hey“, you smiled timidly, not sure what would happen now, and suddenly well aware that you were practically defenseless and they could just abandon you in the jungle.

„I hope you feel a bit better?“, he started the conversation and you just nodded, a bit shy under the leaders gaze. Suddenly another woman entered the tent, and after a second your brain pulled out a name that sounded right - Mo‘at. „Is she feeling better?“, she asked Jake, a strict look on her face, making you shrink a bit.

„She hadn’t got a chance to answer yet“, he grinned and you immediately relaxed with his layed back attitude. „I do“, you nodded and hugged your knees to your chest for comfort, „still hurts a bit, but it’s better, thank you.“

„Do you think you can walk? Maybe we can figure out what happened over dinner, hm?“, Jake rose from his squatted position and held out a hand for you, and you nearly flinched when you saw that your own hand reaching for his was blue. You definitely had to get used to that, and you also would like to look into a mirror sometime soon.

You silently followed behind him, you knew he probably adjusted his pace to yours, you were really slow and limping a bit. Plus you were simultaneously taking in everything around you in wonder - it looked just like in the movie, but even more beautiful and majestic. It seemed to still be nighttime, so you couldn’t have been passed out for long, and you were overwhelmed by the glowing flora and fauna.

You were so distracted that you didn’t notice Jake stopped and you ran straight into his back. „Oh sorry“, you blushed and looked down, god could you make any more of a fool out of yourself? „Don’t worry kid“, he reassured you, and then pointed upwards into the big tree you were standing infront.

„For familydinner we have to climb up there, you think you can manage? Just follow my footsteps okay?“, you wondered if that was the military man speaking - wanting you to climb a tree when you had just fallen from the sky - but you had no choice, so you did your best. Jake was way quicker than you, but you did make it at least halfway before you cuts and bruises were taking too much of a toll on you.

„I’ll get her“, you heard quietly from somewhere above, Jake was already out of sight - it seemed like his muscle memory kicked in and he forgot about you until he was up there. You didn’t dare look down, you had always been a bit frightened of heights and were trying to hold on to your courage. Your heart was still thrumming in your chest and almost leapt out of it, when suddenly a tall Na‘vi landed next to you.

You bit back a frightened squeak and looked up at the familiar figure with big eyes. Neteyam. The one you fell on top off. Ugh, talk about embarrassment. „Are you alright?“, he asked, and it was the first time you heard his voice, since you passed out in the forest before you could. It was rich, dark but more sultry than his dads and made a shiver run down your spine involuntarily.

„(Y/N)?“, he smirked a bit and you couldn’t help but notice he remembered your name. But then you realized he was waiting for an answer and you were staring at him like an idiot. „Oh sorry! Uhh yeah, I’m just not used to climbing trees, plus I still kinda hurt all over“, you grimaced and looked up at him. It was crazy how you seemed to be in a Na‘vi body yourself now, but he was still towering over you by more than a head.

„Yeah my dad is like that sometimes, he forgot he was supposed to help you up until he was already at the top“, he chuckled making, „I’ll help you.“ You agreed and thought he would just pull you up now and then, but instead he firmly but still mindful of your injuries, hauled you onto his back and climbed the tree with you clinging onto him in shock.

You were up there three times faster than you were climbing before and he carefully set you down in the hut that was build in the tree. „T-thank you“, you were beyond flustered, you remembered - and saw here - that the Na‘vi had no problem with lots of naked skin, but only wearing a torn up summer dress and being pressed to Neteyams muscular back made you blush.

„You’re welcome sevin“, he grinned, but before you could ask what that meant, you were interrupted by his family. You swallowed and shrunk under their gazes, but you kind of felt safe with them, so you settled down around the food and started taking.

—————————

„That is crazy“, Lo‘ak was the first to break the silence you ended your story about what happened. And god was he right, it really was crazy. „Like I told you, it was Eywa“, Mo‘at looked a bit smug that she had been right from the start it seemed. It made the most sense that Eywa sent you here - considering the light, that you didn’t fall to your death and the atokirina the Sullys told you about.

You knew all their names now, Jake and Neytiri had Neteyam, Lo‘ak and Tuk, and Kiri was Grace‘ daughter - adopted by them. They were still speechless from what you had told them, reciting a summarized version of the movie to prove you were telling the truth and they didn’t know what to say.

„I think we should all probably sleep on this, it was a really long day“, Jake pulled everyone out of their thoughts, earning nods from everyone and and uncertain expression from you. Where would you go?

„Come on, you can sleep in my hut for now“, Kiri beckoned you to follow her and you were relieved they didn’t move you somewhere else, somewhere you would feel even more alone than here. „Thanks“, you told Kiri and then turned to the other Sullys, „and thank you for dinner and helping me!“ The Sullys wished you a good night, but only one particular pair of eyes on you made your heart speed up.

—————————

You had tried to keep it together the first few nights, thankfully falling asleep as soon as your head hit the hammock, because you were so exhausted. But it seemed like today it really sunk in that this would probably be your life from now on and you’d be here for the rest of it too.

You had been turning in your hammock too many times already trying to find sleep, so you finally gave up when the loud jungle noises drove you crazy and as quietly as possible snuck out the hut and onto the small platform in front of it, sitting down with your legs dangling in the air.

And then came the tears. It wasn’t that you were overly sad or missed your old life, it was just so so much to take in and so insanely overwhelming (you were blue for gods sake!) that you just couldn’t keep it together in that moment. And maybe you were mourning your old life a bit, but who could blame you for that - all the memories connected to your grandparents possessions, and maybe even your shitty job and apartment.

Trying to cry silently, you winced when someone sat next to you. „You okay?“, Kiri asked, bumping you gently with her shoulder in sympathy. „Yeah“, you tried to wipe your tears away, but she already saw them.

„And now again, but with an honest answer“, she squeezed your arm in encouragement and the tears were falling freely again, „are you okay?“ „Not really“, you sobbed, and to your surprise she immediately took you into her arms, making you feel comforted.

„You miss your home?“, she asked quietly while looking out into the glowing forest. „A bit, but not really it wasn’t a nice life I had there it’s just…a lot of change“, you mumbled and she hummed in understanding, continuing to hold you til you had cried it all out. Maybe that was what you needed in the first place - just to let it all out once and for all.

—————————

It had been almost two months already, and you were settling in as much as you could. You didn’t really miss your life back where you came from, putting your handcraft-skills to use was so much more fun than working in that dingy little kiosk. Plus, eventhough you didn’t have that many friends here, you were really close with Kiri and she was a much better friend than yours back at home. You two bonded over being kind off the weird girls of the clan, her with her deep connection to Eywa and you being the demon girl who fell from the sky.

It took some time getting used to your new body, you had looked into a mirror the second day you were here, and it surprised you that you still kinda looked like yourself, but you also didnt. You liked it though. The tail took some more time, as did the ears, because they more often then not acted without your permission and betrayed how you felt. But in true Omaticaya fashion, you were wearing the traditional tweng and chest covers (eventhough you felt a bit exposed at first), first borrowed from Kiri, but she quickly showed you how to make your own.

Other than Kiri, only Lo‘ak, Neteyam and of course little Tuk were honestly nice to you. The other Omaticaya girls your age either thought you were weird because of where you came from, or they seemed to dislike you because you interacted with Lo‘ak and Neteyam a lot - at least that’s what Kiri told you. You had just laughed at that, they were both nice and handsome of course and you might even have a little crush on the oldest Sully, but from what you’ve learned over the last months, he was the most sought after bachelor of the clan, so no way would he be into some former human who spend her day weaving with his little sister.

The Sullys (weirdly enough even Neytiri) took you in and Kiri didn’t mind sharing her hut with you for now. All the older Sully kids had their own smaller huts in the trees surrounding the family’s main one, so they had privacy until they moved out once they found a mate. They were all old enough to choose one already, but neither had picked one yet.

You on the other hand were reluctant to think about a future here, because you never knew if one day you would encounter that bright light again and be swept off back to your own world. You tried to blend that out in your everyday life here, but it was always looming over you.

The only thing you were missing from earth were books. Like, you loved going swimming with Tuk, foraging with Kiri or strolling through the forest with Neteyam when he wanted to show you something. But when you were alone, you really missed reading a good book. Which was why you were currently one the way back from the human outpost, having exchanged the book Norm gave you a week ago for a new one. Weirdly enough they actually did have quite a lot physical copies of books, curtsy of Grace from what Norm told you.

It was almost eclipse now, the forest starting to awaken in bioluminescence. Uh oh, this wasn’t good, considering you went alone when you shouldn’t have (but you didn’t want to bother anyone) and now you weren’t even halfway back to the village with nothing to defend yourself if you stumbled upon a predator.

Clutching the worn out copy of ‚Twilight‘ to your chest, you hurried along the familiar path and just crossed your fingers you would be fine and no one would find out you went alone. Eventhough your ears were alert, you were still tremendously startled when Neteyam suddenly landed infront of you. You stopped in your tracks as not to run into him and let out a frightened sound, before realizing who it was.

Oh no, he looked kinda angry. „What do you think you’re doing syulang?“, he sounded accusatory and eventhough you started to get a hang of the language, he refused to tell you what the little nicknames meant he called you. Consequently his siblings refused to aswell when you asked them, but not without giving you a stupid grin.

„I-I just wanted a new book?“, it sounded more like a guilty question then the innocent answer you wanted it to be. „Alone?“, you could see he was gritting his teeth trying to stay calm. „I didn’t want to bother anyone, it’s not that far! You didn’t have to come looking for me we’re almost there anyway“, you tried to protest weakly, eventhough the thought that he noticed you were gone and came looking for you (and knew you good enough to know where to look) made your heart race pathetically.

„Good thing I did though“, he raised an eyebrow and suddenly threw a small knife into the bush next to you, an animalistic howl ringing in the air before it was silent, „there was a stray viperwolf following you the last few minutes.“ Okay, maybe he was right after all and you really shouldn’t wander of too far on your own, especially not in the dark.

„Thank you“, was the only thing leaving your lips and Neteyam just rolled his eyes. He could never stay mad at you, even if he was angry with you for being so careless with your safety. Eywa, he really had a weak spot for you. Even now, looking so guiltily with your eyes glued to the forest floor, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Ever since you fell on top of him, his heart felt like it was fate that you came into his world. He could see his siblings were suspecting his infatuation with you - considering their glances and smirks. But he couldn’t help that he was protective, even if his siblings giggled when he told them he was going to search for you earlier.

He was glad he did though, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened to you. Plus showing off in front of you was an upside too. „Come on, let’s get you home“, he ushered you forward, not able to resist his tail slipping around your thigh. Your own tail swaying behind you restless as a reaction made him smirk.

—————————

„That’s really what the book is about? That’s crazy“, Kiri laughed while you two walked to communal dinner. Most of the time the Sullys ate here with the rest of the clan, only sometimes would they eat in private. „Don’t judge before you read it“, you chastised her with a grin, but you got her - especially in this world a love story about vampires must sound insane.

You two settled down in your usual spot at the edge of the busy clearing, waiting for the hustle to calm down a bit before getting your food. „Yeah, no I’m defiantly judging. But to your credit, if you read something like that you must really be a hopeless romantic“, she dramatically held her heart and fanned her face in mockery, making you giggle and pinch her side.

„Who’s a hopeless romantic?“, a familiar voice interrupted your conversation, making you blush immediately. „Not me“, Kiri said with a grin, and when she saw what her brother was carrying it got even wider. „It’s nothing“, you just shook your head and your heart jumped a bit when Neteyam sat down next to you. He normally ate with the other hunters or his friends, and sitting next to him made you incredibly nervous. Especially because of all the eyes on you.

To your relief everyone minded their own business relatively fast again, and you noticed Neteyam was looking at you. „What is it?“, you were curious now, looking up into his kind eyes, ignoring Kiris chuckles. „Here, I brought you dinner“, you only now noticed he had two leaves with freshly cooked meat on them in his hands.

„Oh thank you!“, you were suprised, but kinda glad you didn’t have to make your way though the crowd yourself. „It’s from the hunt today, I brought the sturmbeest down by myself“, he smirked, and you nodded trying to seem impressed. You weren’t really in the hunting game plus you weren’t even sure what a sturmbeest looked like yet, but it was cute how proud he was.

„Wow, that’s cool! Thank you“, you smiled at him in appreciation and he gave you a blinding smile. „Nothing for me brother?“, contrary to what she said, she didn’t look mad - she was wiggling her eyebrows with a grin. „Ahh get lost Kiri“, Neteyam waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, but he actually seemed a bit embarrassed - was he blushing?

Kiri just rolled her eyes and left to get food, leaving you two alone. „What was that about?“, you smiled and he gave you a roguish little smile. „Nothing yawne, just eat“, he urged you with a gentle hand on your elbow that made your skin tingle. Huh, that was a new nickname, you wondered what it meant.

—————————

You shouldn’t have let Lo‘ak convince you. But you wanted to see an ikran so bad! You hadn’t wanted to ask anyone in case it was like something private or sacred not to be shared, but when Lo‘ak offered to take you to see his ikran when you were both in the village bored out of your mind, you had only needed a bit convincing to leave without telling anyone.

You werent sure if you really weren’t allowed to go, but Neteyam always seemed hell bent on keeping you from each and every risk possible, so you assumed that extended to encountering an ikran.

„Come on (Y/N) don’t slow down!“, Lo‘ak always seemed to have an infinite amount of energy and you did your best to keep up with him without falling on your face. „Are we almost there?“, you called ahead, just narrowly avoiding a branch that would’ve knocked you in the head otherwise.

„Yeah just a bit ahead“, he called back and you rolled your eyes - this was the fourth time he said that. But it seemed like he was telling the truth this time, because you broke out of the treeline and stopped on a wide open cliff, looking out onto the hallelujah mountains.

„Wow“, you were amazed by the sight, Lo‘ak grinning cheekily at your stunned face. „Pretty cool, huh?“, he asked, bumping you with his shoulder and you only nodded. Your brain couldn’t make sense of the flying rocks, making it even more magical.

Lo‘ak suddenly whistled and after a moment or two, a mighty beast shot upwards from the abyss infront of the cliff, startling you so much you let out shocked yelp. Lo‘ak snickered at his successful attempt to mess with you - and then his ikran landed infront of you.

It was towering over the two of you, screeching at Lo‘ak like a greeting and eyeing you with alert. „He’s a sweetheart, just don’t look into his eyes“, he was already petting the dragon-like creature. You immediately averted your eyes towards the ikrans body rather than his head.

„Come here slowly“, Lo‘ak motioned for you to move closer and you did, trying to keep calm as not to startle the creature who could probably eat you with two bites. „Here“, he smiled when you were standing next to him, taking your hand and laying it onto his banshee, the creature not startled by another hand on his back.

It felt similar to a snakes skin, but the colors were even more intense up close. „This is so cool“, you breathed and could almost feel his proud smile. You knew it wasn’t always easy for the younger Sully, but it made you happy how carefree he seemed in moments like that.

„Neteyam might kill me when he finds out, but you wanna go for a ride?“, he grinned mischievously. „Are you kidding? Hell yes!“, you nodded in excitement, infected by Lo‘aks troublemaker vibe, the thought of messing with perfectly correct Neteyam a bit (even if you thought that part of him was adorable) making you grin too.

„Come on then!“, he hopped into his ikrans back with ease, pulling you up behind him. „Hold on tight!“, was the last warning he gave and then you were off, flying and maneuvering the hallelujah mountains with excited squeals and shocked gasps when Lo‘ak wanted to show off.

„This is amazing!“, you called, taking in the otherworldly view around you and the thrilling feeling of flying on a banshee. Lo‘ak only laughed, and suddenly dipped down straight, making you squeak in terror.

It had been about an hour or so, when he suddenly stiffened a bit. „Uh oh, the fun police“, he groaned, and when you looked over his shoulder you saw Neteyam on his ikran, a bit farther away.

With a sigh, Lo‘ak was making his way over to the cliff where you started from, landing there and helping you down before bidding goodbye to his banshee. As soon as he was gone, Neteyam landed. His ikran was a mighty beast, even bigger and a bit meaner looking than Lo‘aks and the rider himself looked just as mad.

„What are you two doing here?“, Neteyam was addressing Lo‘ak right away, not even looking at you, and to your shock he was basically seething. „We were bored so I offered to show her my ikran“, to his credit Lo‘ak didn’t even flinch under his brothers angry glare, only rolling his eyes.

„Why do you always have to do the things you’re not supposed to?! Take things that aren’t yours?! Putting others in danger?!“, Neteyam was basically shouting, and even Lo‘ak looked a bit startled by his brothers intense reaction.

„Neteyam it wasn’t his fault“, you tried to calm down the older Sully, but it only seemed to work a bit when you gently squeezed his upper arm. „Yeah sooo I’m gonna go“, Lo‘ak took the chance to dip now that Neteam was distracted for a second and Neteyam almost went after him if it hadn’t been for you hanging onto his arm.

„Don’t be like that, he just took me flying. I don’t think I was ever in any real danger“, you tried to look as innocent and sweet as possible as not to get yelled at too. Neteyam looked down at you for a moment, scanning you over once and then sighing, losing all the tension he previously had.

„Yeah you’re right, it’s not really about the risk, it’s just that…“, he started but let the sentence hang in the air, turning his head away from you and you were wondering what was happening. „Come on, you can tell me“, your hand slipped down his arm almost on its own, taking his hand in yours and making him look back at you.

„If you wanted to see an ikran why didn’t you ask me?“, he looked a bit embarrassed when he finally spilled what he was bothered by and you were taken aback for a moment. „I didn’t necessarily want to see an ikran, I was just bored and Lo‘ak was free - if you would’ve been around I would’ve asked you Neteyam“, you didn’t know why exactly he was so bothered by Lo‘ak taking you to fly.

„You…wanna meet mine too?“, he motioned to the beast behind him with his head and a hopeful glint appeared in his eyes. „I‘d love to“, you agreed, happy to see his spirits lifted again, „but makeup with Lo‘ak later okay? And don’t be so hard on him.“ He begrudgingly agreed while pulling you over to his banshee, who didn’t look so mean anymore now that his rider wasn’t angry either.

—————————

Every once in a while the Sullys had family dinner together in their hut and not in the communal area with the rest of the clan, just like tonight. It was a bit chaotic but you loved it - and you especially loved that they naturally involved you as part of it.

Everyone was there already except Neteyam, and you were settling down in the middle of the hut, the food laid out in the middle. Lo‘ak was still in the corner, filling his waterskin, and was about to make his way to sit in the free place next to you, when his older brother came in, a bit out of breath.

„Sorry I’m late, incident at training“, he explained, and you had to look away quickly before your gaze would get caught on his flexing muscles as he laid down his bow. Kiri next to you snickered - she had known about your crush on her older brother ever since she saw you ogling him when all of you were at the river.

You didn’t really catch what happened next, only seeing Lo‘ak who was almost standing next to you, about to sit down, and suddenly it was Neteyam who sat there (closer than his brother would’ve ever sat), and a grumbling Lo‘ak was walking away to sit down next to his mother, who seemed amused by her eldest behavior.

Before you could dwell on it too much, your train of thought was interrupted by Jake, but the way Neteyams thigh brushed yours when he helped you to some food (he was such a sweetheart), before helping himself to some, distracted you significantly.

„So (Y/N) tell me, as a former human yourself, what do you miss most about earth, like foodwise?“, Jake addressed you with a grin. The topic of earth was the thing the both of you bonded most over and next to the actual humans here, it was nice to have someone who could empathize with your situation a bit closer. Plus, Jake loved playing these little games with you, even if you were kind of from the past - at least from his perspective.

„Uh that’s a hard one“, you had like a million foods and drinks you missed from earth you missed, „if I had to pick like top 5 I’d probably say Ice cream, Sushi, cheesecake, coffee and maybe a nice cold coke.“

Jake nodded like he approved of your choices and then added, „only thing I’m really really missing is an ice cold beer.“ It was so funny to see the confused looks of the other family members, and maybe that was what actually prompted Jake to talk about this, you thought with a grin.

„Or a bag of chips and Guacamole“, you added and the both of you were laughing while Neytiri fondly rolled her eyes and the siblings just continued eating in confusion. „I’m glad you have someone to play your stupid little games with other than the sky people ma Jake“, Neytiri acted like she was annoyed by Jake’s antics, but you could tell she loved exactly that about him.

The conversation shifted from human food to the training incident Neteyam talked about earlier, but you didn’t really listen, because you were concentrating on eating your food without chocking when Neteyams tail wrapped itself around yours.

———————————

„Come on (Y/N)!“, Tuk beckoned you into the water she was already splashing around in and with a grin you joined her there. All of the Sullys were busy today, so Neytiri had asked if you could accompany Tuk to the Lagoon she was begging everyone to go to for days. It wasn’t that far, so it was safe, Tuks mother reckoned.

„Wanna see how good I can jump?“, Tuk was so excited to finally come here, that she was bouncing around like crazy, but her enthusiasm infected you too. „Of course! Show me!“, you laughed with her, sitting on a rock that was only a little submerged in the lagoon - you could see her jumping from the boulder perfectly from there.

It went on like that for a few hours, the two of you hanging out by the lagoon, talking, laughing and you even decorated her hair with little flowers. It made you a bit nostalgic, back on earth - if you would’ve had the money for college - you would’ve loved being a kindergarden teacher and hanging out with Tuk kinda made you wonder if you were to have your own children some day. You tried to bury the thought of her older brother as their father just as quickly as it came.

„Hey you two!“, as if you had summoned him, Neteyam strolled out of the bushes and Tuk excitedly leapt of the rock you two were sitting on, swimming over to her brother. „Neteyam!“, she threw herself into his arms wet as she was, but he didn’t seemed to mind and only caught her with a loud laugh. Damn, that didn’t really help stifle your previous thoughts.

„You’re having a good time?“, he smiled at her and she nodded vigorously, already moving around to be let down from his arms. „Yes! I wanna show you how good I can jump now!“, before he could even answer, she already ran over to the boulder she was jumping from the last few hours. „Give me a second, I’ll watch from over there“, Neteyam called out to her and when he pointed to you, and dived headfirst into the water like a pro, you had to admit you got a bit wet in your tweng.

He surfaced right in front of you and you could only look at him with a flustered expression - you didn’t think you would ever forget his smirking face right in front of your slightly spread legs. Before you could slip further into a naughty fantasy, he moved to the side and pushed himself up and you had to force yourself to move your eyes as to not ogle his wet and muscular body.

„Neteyam! Neteyam look!“, Tuk screamed before jumping into the water head first and the both of you laughed at her enthusiasm. „I don’t get how she has so much energy, she’s been doing that for hours“, you smiled and shook your head in disbelief. „Yeah, sometimes I wish I had that much energy too“, he grinned and playfully bumped your thigh with his.

God, the size difference between your kinda squishy one (you reckoned you had some human features because the female Navis were all corded muscle) and his thick muscular one was making you flustered, especially when he didn’t pull it away, instead keeping it pressed to yours.

„You did great Tuk!“, Neteyam called over to his little sister who had just emerged and tried to calm his racing heart at feeling you pressed up right next to him. He had waited for you to settle in fully, and it took some time for him to sort out the things you made him feel, but he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and started courting you when he heard the other male hunters talk about making a move on you. The thought alone made his tail move over yours.

Tuk continued showing of her jumps, while Neteyam worked up the courage to give you his gift. You had accepted the meat he gave you at dinner yesterday, the one he had hunted for you, so you should also accept the necklace he made you, but he was nervous still. Taking a deep breath, he fished the jewelry out of the little bag that was strapped to his loincloth and turned a bit towards you.

„I made something for you“, Neteyam said next to you and you averted your eyes from Tuk to look at what he meant. In his hands laid a beautiful necklace out of thin leather stripes with what you identified as gemstones braided in, and it looked almost identical to the one he was wearing. „Really? You made that for me?“, you looked up at him .

Neteyam had to remind himself that his little sister was still jumping around happily a few feet away, otherwise he would have kissed you on the spot. „Yeah“, he was breathless from the way you were staring up at him and the anticipation of your answer to his offering. „It’s beautiful 'Teyam. Can you help me put it on?“, you smiled at him and he almost lost his grip on the necklace when you called him that nickname.

„Of course“, the grin his face was sprouting was making your heart feel like it was expanding in your chest, so you quickly turned around for him to fasten the necklace. His fingers gently brushed your hair to the side and left a path of tingles in their way. The necklace was more like a choker and considering it was a gift from him, the thought sent a slight shiver through you.

When you turned around again, the way his necklace sat snugly against your pretty throat satisfied some primal side of him. Everyone could see who they had to answer to now if they decided to make a move on you, he thought with a smirk. „Thank you“, your pretty blush made him go feral and when you took his hand and squeezed it, he would’ve kissed you - if it hadn’t been for the water suddenly showering you two. „You aren’t even watching!“, Tuk complained, pouting in the water a few feet away.

——————————

„Pretty necklace you got there“, Kiri was smirking at you the next morning, when her, Tuk, Lo‘ak and you went foraging - but instead sat on a clearing and talked. „Oh thanks, 'Teyam gave it to me“, you smiled, your hand automatically reaching for the chocker like it had done many times til he gave it to you. „Teyam?“, Lo‘ak was grinning mischievously and you could feel yourself blush.

„You’re so in love it’s almost disgusting“, Kiri laughed, and you were rendered speechless for a moment. „I think it’s cute! When you two are mated, you’re our sister, that will be so cool!“, Tuk seemed excited, but you looked at them with wide eyes. „Why would we be mated?“, you pressed out and they all paused in their teasing.

„What?“, Kiri asked confused, „what do you mean? He’s been courting you for the last two weeks.“ She was looking at you like it was selfexplanatory. „He’s been what?!“, your voice took on a shrill note and you sat ramrod straight. „He hunted that sturmbeest for you and brought you the meat, sits with you at dinner even if he almost has to take me out for the seat, made you that necklace, took you flying after getting insanely jealous over me taking you for a flight and is way over the top protective over you?“, Lo‘ak looked at you as if you were stupid, but now that they labeled what had been happening as courting, every interaction with him ran through your mind with a different filter.

„You’ve broken her“, Tuk whined and snapped you out of your trance. „He’s…he’s been courting me? Why didn’t he say anything?“, you whispered and were surprised they heard you. „You really didn’t know?“, Kiri looked a bit shocked. „No! I’m not from here, remember? How would I know that? 'Courting‘ in my world is vastly different!“, you started panicking a bit.

„But you like him don’t you? I mean it’s quite obvious you two are into eachother“, Lo‘ak shrugged and didn’t really seem to see a problem here. „I-I do, a lot, but I still can’t mate with him“, you blushed when suddenly you realized what that mating would include but pushed the thought to the side.

„What? Why? Don’t you wanna be my sister?“, Tuk climbed over her older brother in order to sit in your lap, hitting him in the face with her tail in the process, making Kiri giggle. „Oh Tuk“, you cuddled her close, „I’d love to be your sister. I’m just worried about the possibility that one day the light that brought me here will take me back again - and I’d be gone just like that. It’s better not to form such permanent attachments as mating, no matter how much I like your brother.“

„Eywa brought you here for a reason (Y/N). You said you didn’t like your life on earth and I think she sent you here to live a happier life - a life with my brother“, Kiri tried to reassure you, but you still weren’t convinced. „Yeah (Y/N), he’s so in love with you, he’s never acted like that before. There are so many willing females throwing themselves at him, but he doesn’t even glance at them, because he’s only looking at you“, Lo‘ak looked as serious as you’ve never seen him before.

„Promise me you’ll at least talk to him? Soon? But knowing him I can tell you that much - he’d rather take all the time he can get with you even if it’s limited, than not having any time with you at all“, Kiri wisely told you and you sighed, nodding and hugging Tuk closer to you.

„Plus, I really hope you’ll stay here too“, Kiri almost seemed a little bashful, „you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.“ You looked at her and tried to stop yourself from tearing up. „Come here“, you opened your arms and beckoned her to join yours and Tuks hug, hugging her tightly when she finally moved with a roll of her eyes. „You’re the best friend I’ve ever had too Kiri“, you smiled and she squeezed you gently as a response.

„For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cool too“, Lo‘ak chimed in from next to you with a grin and after exchanging a mischievous grin, you and Kiri pulled him into the hug too with a laugh, ignoring the groaning Tuk (and Lo‘ak).

It seemed like you really had found a family here too. And it was weird to think that Neteyam really returned your feelings, for gods sake he was courting you! Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest and you just prayed that Eywa would give you a sign or anything else to let you know you would never have to go back and could spend your life here - and that you could accept his advances and stay here with all of them.

————————

Neteyam decided he couldn’t wait anymore and would ask you to be his mate tonight. You seemed to accept his courting and he just wanted you to be his. So he decided to talk to his parents about this, eventhough he was sure they had already heard through gossip that he was courting you - and by gossip he meant Kiri and Lo‘ak.

„Mom, Dad, can we talk for a moment?“, he weirdly enough had found his parents in the same place - they were at home sorting through herbs. He could only guess they were told by his grandmother to do so. At his appearance they stopped their work and he settled down with them. „It’s about (Y/N)“, his mother guessed and gave him a knowing smirk and he was almost offended by how easy he was to read.

„(Y/N)? What about her?“, Jake was confused and Neteyam was reassured that it seemed to at least be only his mother that could see right through him. Then again, his dad was generally pretty clueless about things like that. „Ma Jake, he’s been courting her for two weeks now“, Neytiri rolled her eyes at his dads density.

„What, really? And does she know that?“, Jake asked and Neteyam and his mother were looking at him in question. „She accepted my gifts and the meat I hunted for her, and my offers to spend time with her if you mean that“, Neteyam shrugged and his stomach fluttered when he thought about you.

„No, what I mean is, that she’s not from here, humans don’t 'court' like Na‘vi do, are you sure she knows what you’re doing is leading to you two being mated?“, his father explained himself, „Because I’m not sure anyone ever explained that part of our culture to her.“ Mother and son were in thought for a moment, as they had to grasp the concept that she was from a completely different world - she had adapted so well they forgot about that sometimes.

When none of them said anything, Jake cleared his throat and continued. „I don’t doubt she likes you, even your daft old dad sees that, and I’m not telling you she will say no or anything - just be patient with her because she might not expect it, okay?“, he reassured his oldest son. „Thank you Dad“, Neteyam nodded gratefully and then looked over to his mom, „but the reason I came here for originally was to ask for both of your approval and permission to ask her to be my mate tonight.“

His parents exchanged a fond glance, proud of the man their son had become and proud of his choice. „Of course you have our approval. (Y/N) might not be able to become Tsahìk without training, but my mother and I talked to Kiri about this possibility - and she is more than suited and willing to take on that role when the time comes“, Neytiri smiled encouragingly at her older son, happy that he found someone to spent his life with.

„Your mother is right, you’re perfect for eachother“, his dad clapped his back proudly and Neteyam felt significantly lighter than when he arrived in the family’s hut. „I think you should know that you might need to keep a closer eye on her if you announce your bond though“, his mother looked a bit thoughtful, „I heard that some of the other woman already suspect your affections for her and they don’t seem to be happy about being overruled by what they perceive as an outsider.“

Neteyams previously light mood, darkened in record time. His mother thought they would compromise you somehow? He couldn’t even fathom the thought of you being hurt, but he knew you weren’t the best at defending yourself so if they caught you alone it was absolutely possible. „Don’t worry Neteyam, we’ll all keep an eye on her“, his Dad try to calm him, the dangerous glint in his eyes unsettling him. „Thank you, both of you“, he gestured a goodbye to his parents, „I’m going to find her now.“

—————————

He had been searching for you a while before he found Kiri who told him you were off reading again, on the small Plattform he had showed you weeks ago that was high up in the trees. With a grin he had run off, that actually fit perfectly into his plans. The platform was private and cozy, just right to ask such an important question.

When her reached the tree, it started to get dark slowly and he quickly climbed upwards. He could hear you turn a page when he was close and when he could finally see you his chest got all warm. You were so beautiful, tucked into the corner with the blanket you brought and completely immersed in your book.

„Hello yawne“, he grinned when you were startled and looked at him in surprise. „Don’t scare me like that 'Teyam!“, you playfully scolded him and sat upright, closing your book after marking the page. With a soft smile, he moved onto the platform and sat down on the bouncy material next to you, so close he could see you blush a little - but when you seemed to automatically lean into him a bit, his heartbeat quickened ridiculously.

He didn’t know where to begin. „What is it?“, you looked at him in worry and carefully took his hand, yours so small and delicate in his. He immediately cradled it lovingly. „You always asked me what the nicknames I called you meant“, he started and stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

„Yes“, you were a bit breathless at the affection he was showing you. „Syulang means flower, because you’re just as unique as every single one on this moon“, he gently pushed a piece of hair out of your face and your eyes widened in wonder. „Sevin means beauty, because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever encountered“, he whispered, his tail moving to tangle with yours and your breath momentarily stopped.

„Neteyam“, was the only thing you could whisper, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or to keep going. He sent you a shaky smile and moved his head closer to yours, almost touching your forehead to eachother. „Yawne means beloved“, his breath hit your face softly and you could guess what came next, closing your eyes in agony, „because I love you. Eywa (Y/N) I love you so much and I see you. Oel ngati kameie. I’m yours, if you’ll have me. Be mine? Be my mate?“

You wanted him so bad, you wanted to love him and you wanted to let him love you - but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bare the thought of leaving him behind if you would encounter the light that brought you here again. And you had every intention to tell him, but when you opened your eyes and looked into his golden ones, so full of love and desire you were left speechless.

His hand slipped to your cheek, and you noticed how he moved in even closer - just a tilt of your head and you would’ve been kissing your love. Closing your eyes again, you couldn’t bear to see the heartbroken look on his face as you pulled away from him. „I can’t Neteyam“, you had to force the words out, your heart not wanting to say them at all.

It was silent for a second and you thought maybe he was gone as quickly as he came, but a big firm hand pulling your face back around proved you wrong. „Did I do something wrong? I thought you accepted my courtship, did I read you wrong? Please (Y/N) look at me“, he pleaded with you, the desire and love in his eyes now overridden by panic.

„No! No you didn’t do anything wrong and you didn’t read me wrong I do…I do love you“, your heart couldn’t take hie broken expression, even if you couldn’t be with him you had to atleast make sure he knew it wasn’t him. He brightened up a little at that, but his ears were still low and close to his head. „What is it then? Talk to me yawne, please“, he looked so concerned for you and was so gentle still, that you were sure he would be the right choice if you could let yourself be his.

„I didn’t…realize you were courting me at first, not until your siblings pointed it out to me“, you started to explain yourself, trying to keep your composure. „When they told me I was elated at first that you returned my feelings, but then…then I realized I could be pulled out of this world any moment again, we can’t be sure it won’t happen and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you, especially not after making the bond“, you continued, „not to mention that you’re the next leader of your clan and some people still see me as a demon, it’s not an appropriate match anyway.“

„Bullshit“, Neteyam blurted out after a moment of silence, repeating something that his father said when he’s frustrated. You just looked at him with wide eyes. „You’re perfect for me, the clan will have to deal with that, most of them have accepted you already. I already talked to my parents and they approve yawnetu, Kiri will be Tsahìk when the time comes and they love you, they couldn’t think of someone better for me either“, he ranted on and you had to smile at his vigor to convince you, your hand gently stroking his cheek.

„You forgot the most important part“, you sighed, letting your hand fall down. He caught it and pressed it back to his cheek, not willing to lose that feeling. „I don’t care. I’d rather have only a year, a month or a week with you than not have you at all“, he was desperate, wishing you would just let him love you. „I can’t“, you were on the verge of tears, he could see it and his heart broke even more. „Maybe Eywa sends a sign, letting me know I won’t ever go back, but we don’t know that will happen“, this was worse than all the scenarios he thought about, knowing you wanted him too, but feeling like you couldn’t was torture.

„Do you want to? Go back I mean?“, he suddenly asked, catching you off guard. You were lost in thought for a moment. Back home? Was it even home anymore? You missed your true crime and your crochet, and going to the bar with your friends once in a while, but that was nothing compared to what you’d miss if you would go back. You couldn’t even fathom how much it would hurt to leave all of this behind.

„No. Never“, you shook your head decisively.

—————————

You were essentially hiding from Neteyam the last two days. He was somehow convinced if he would just dote on you enough he would get Eywa to send a sign and you to agree to mate with him. It was probably not working on Eywa, but your resolve on the other hand was crumbling with every sweet gesture and every gentle touch. That’s precisely why you were avoiding him, trying to stop yourself from falling into his arms.

But you couldn’t run forever and Kiri had bullied you into attending communal dinner tonight, so there you were, making your way to your usual spot to meet her. „Evening (Y/N)“, someone greeted you from behind and you stopped in your tracks, and turned around. To your surprise it was Au‘tel, one of the hunters from the clan - not nearly as impressive as Neteyam though. You had to reprimand yourself for thinking about him.

„Good evening“, you smiled at him politely, still wondering what he could possibly want from you. He had never talked to you before now. „I brought you some of the food“, he grinned and held out a portion of cut up fruits, and your eyes widened. Now that you knew what it meant, you couldn’t possibly accept what seemed to be a courting gesture.

You were raking your brain for an acceptable rejection, when you felt him before you even saw him. His hand possessively went around your waist and you could feel your heartbeat in your throat. This wasn’t good. „She doesn’t need you to provide food“, he was basically growling at the other man, you had never heard Neteyam sound so venomously, Au‘tel shrinking visibly under the larger man’s glare.

„Sure, I apologize“, he was gone as suddenly as he came, and you were glad he scurried away instead of talking back, because you were sure Neteyam wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt him. Suddenly you were very aware of how quiet it was around you, the people eating dinner pausing and looking at the scene unfolding infront of them.

Oh god, that were definitely way too many eyes on you, and they were looking curiously at the way their future leader was still holding you closely. And the way some of the other young women were eyeing you with murderous envy was making you panic, pulling yourself out of Neteyams grip hastily and disappearing into the forest quickly. You would apologize to Kiri later.

You were blushing massively and breathing too quickly, not even knowing where you were going. You had to admit it was kind of hot how he staked his claim on you, but then you remembered all the people looking at you, judging you and you were so blinded by the tears that were suddenly running down your face from your feelings that were pulling you into all different directions the last few days, that you nearly missed the steep cliff that suddenly opened up infront of you.

You gasped, trying to stop yourself from falling down into the dark abyss, but you couldn’t catch yourself anymore and you were sure you would’ve fallen hadn’t it been for Neteyam. You didn’t even notice him following you, but thank Eywa he did, pulling you back from the cliff and into his chest safely.

Neteyams heart almost fell out of his chest when he saw you nearly fall down that cliff, holding you even tighter at the thought of what could’ve happened. „You’re okay, you’re okay“, he tried to soothe not only you but him, turning you around and pulling you into a tight hug.

You let yourself be held for a moment, just enjoying the close proximity you had forbidden yourself the past days, before pulling yourself away from his chest and wiping your tears away. He reluctantly let you go, not looking happy with having you leave the safety of his arms. „Thank you 'Teyam“, you mumbled, looking to the ground and trying move around him to go back to Kiris hut to just sleep. You really lost your appetite anyway.

„Don’t go“, he pleaded, trying to hold you back, but you shook him off. „I told you we can’t. You shouldn’t have done that back there, everyone saw“, you looked up at the taller Na‘vi in desperation. „Good. Let them see who you belong to, so no other skxwang will try to make a move on you“, he was basically seething at the thought of that idiot trying to court you back at dinner.

You were stunned at the intensity of his possessiveness for a moment, some primal part of you was urging you to lay down and mate with that perfect male, but you quickly squashed the thought. „Don’t…don’t say that“, you whispered, and Neteyam seemed to realize all too quickly what effect he had on you and stepped closer.

„Why? Does it make you want to mate with me?“, he was smirking, something rumbling deep in his broad chest, his pectorals flexing under your gaze. You knew if you would’ve stayed only a second longer you would’ve given yourself to him - so you ran.

—————————

You knew it was childish and you had to talk about it, but you just needed a day to have some peace and quiet. In the morning you had immediately fled the trees that housed the Sullys huts and settled in a small clearing with a basket to weave and keep you occupied until you were ready to go back.

You were seriously contemplating giving into your heart and accepting Neteyam, but you just couldn’t shake the image of a heartbroken Neteyam if you really would be taken back someday. You knew what happened to Na‘vi when their mates died (and you doubted disappearing would be different), and you didn’t want Neteyam to wither away slowly because of you. Not if he could’ve had a chance to live a happy life with someone else some day if you were sent back - but mating with him and making the bond would rob him of that.

It was already getting dark and you knew you had to go back, so you slowly made your way through the forest, holding your finished basket in one hand. You were a few minutes away from the Sullys huts, when you encountered Saelia, Nes‘ti and Tizon, three of the women who were thought to be picked as Neteyams mate - if it hadn’t been for you.

„Look what we’ve got here“, Nes‘ti laughed when they spotted you and you just looked at them like a deer caught in the headlights. „It’s the demon“, Saelia chuckled darkly, „probably coming from a secret date with Neteyam.“

Oh no, this wasn’t going to turn out pretty, you thought as they stepped closer to you. „I don’t see it, do you?“, Nes‘ti was eyeing you in mockery. „No, no I really don’t“, Tizon cackled, and they exchanged glances. „See what?“, you had the courage to ask, but realized immediately that was stupid. They suddenly dropped the fake humor and looked at you in rage.

„See whatever the hell he sees in you!“, Saelia spit out, taking a step forward and startling you. „Yeah we have been wondering what it could possibly be, you’re not even one of the people, and you managed to take Toruk Maktos eldest son“, Tizon pushed you back by the shoulders, and you stumbled back, luckily catching yourself.

„Yeah, he’s been completely ignoring us ever since you fell out of the fucking sky!“, Saelia seemed to be seeing red and suddenly pushed you back way harder than Tizon did, making you stumble and you turned trying to catch yourself. Your foot got caught on a root, and you fell head first against a rock laying on the ground, effectively splitting your forehead open.

„You shouldn’t have done that!“, you heard them bickering behind you. „What?! You did it too!“, someone hissed back, and you felt them scurry away quickly, now that they realized they injured you. Groaning you sat up, already feeling the blood running down your face. Great. This was just great.

——————————

„Ouch“, you hissed as Neytiri cleaned the cut on your forehead, but her grip on your chin stayed firm. „Now, tell me how this happened, and no lies this time“, she berated you. Maybe trying to sell that you only fell wasn’t the smartest idea with her - would’ve worked with Jake though. „It was just those stupid girls, pestering me about Neteyam“, you sighed and she looked down at you in concern.

„They hit you?“, she inquired further, putting some paste on the cut now that it stopped bleeding and it immediately soothed the stinging. „No, they pushed me around and I tripped“, you recounted the events from earlier, and looked up at her. She finished up with your cut and sat down next to you in her family’s hut.

„And now tell me what else is bothering you child“, you rarely saw her this gentle and took a deep breath. „It’s just… Neteyam and I-“, you were suddenly interrupted by Neteyam and Lo‘ak coming into the hut, and your eyes immediately found his.

„What the hell happened“, against your expectations Neteyam was deathly calm while looking at the cut on your forehead. This seemed to be even worse than his anger, considering his mother and brother left the hut immediately. You were scrambling up, standing on the woven material the floor was made out of, and tried to think of something to say.

Neteyam crossed the space between you in seconds, cradling your face gently despite his obvious anger simmering underneath the surface. „What. Happened.“, he asked again, and as if he could sense you were trying to think of an excuse he added, „and don’t even think about lying to me.“

„It…it was just those girls“, you started, but his eyes told you his anger was flowing over. „They didn’t mean to! The were just pushing me, I fell by accident“, you tried to calm him down, because eventhough you didn’t like those girls, you didn’t wish Neteyams wrath upon them either.

„Nobody hurts you“, he hissed, his jaw clenched tightly, letting go of you slowly and turning towards the door. „Wait, don’t do this Neteyam“, you tried to hold him back, but he was walking towards the entrance with purpose, and you just stood there helplessly thinking of things that could convince him to stay.

„Neteyam! Please!“, you called for him, but it seemed like he was in tunnel vision, not snapping out of it. So you did the only thing that came to your mind right then. „Kiss me!“, you blurted out, and that indeed made him stop in his tracks.

„What did you say?“, he sounded agitated still, his back to you, but at least he stopped moving. „Kiss me, please“, you whispered in a desperate attempt to keep him there - and also because you finally let your heart speak its mind.

He turned around slowly, like a predator not wanting to scare its prey, and looked into your eyes for a moment. He seemed to find what he was searching for, because in seconds he wrapping one arm around your waist pulling you close, while the other gently cupped your face - then he bend down and his lips were on yours.

It was passionate and needy from the start, his lips were slightly rough against your soft ones, but it was the perfect fit. They moved in sync, his tongue carefully finding its way into your mouth, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left your throat at the animalistic way he claimed you right there.

Your little sound egged him on even more, greedy hands pulling you closer, because now that he finally had you in his arms, so soft and pliable, he was gonna make damn sure to show you how much he loved you - how much he wanted you. His tails possessively wrapped around your thigh, while he felt like for the first time in his life he was complete. Like this was where he needed to be.

The kiss turned softer, full of love and desire, his hands roaming your waist, grasping your hips while you clung onto his biceps, his muscles flexing under your grip. He was basically kissing you senseless, you didn’t know up and down, you only knew where he was. The feeling of his lips was exhilarating, and you wanted nothing more then to give yourself to him fully - but you couldn’t .

Finally needing to breathe, you pulled back slightly, smiling when the tall warrior chased your lips desperately. „Say you’re mine (Y/N)“, Neteyams voice was husky, a raspy, primal edge in his words. „I am 'Teyam. I always was“, you sighed, not being able to lie to him anymore, he deserved to know, even if you couldn’t make the bond with him yet.

Hearing your say that you were his made a growl rise in his throat that seemed almost instinctual, acknowledging that he had you, not only in his arms but he had your heart. „Just…just hold me tonight?“, your breathless whisper made his heart swell. „Of course, yawne“, he smiled happily, knowing this was a step towards mating with you, even if you wouldn’t tonight.

He swept you off your feet, grinning at the little squeak you let out at his sudden action, and carried you quickly into his hut. It was in a tree close to the Sullys, but from all of his siblings it was the farthest away. You had your face buried in his neck, and the way he could feel your lips ghosting over it distracted him like crazy.

There were no words exchanged between you two, Neteyam laid you down on his bed gently, pulling you into his arms immediately and wrapping his tail around your waist for security. Having you in his arms, all safe and warm and smelling so good, made him feel a bone deep satisfaction that almost scared him - he could never lose you.

————————————

It wasn’t as hard as you would’ve thought to resist Neteyam the next day, because he was gone for an out of the ordinary hunting trip until dinner was almost over. When Jake had told him in the morning he had to accompany the hunting party, he had almost refused to go because he wanted to stay with you. But with a bit of sweet encouragement (and the promise of more kisses when he returned) you were able to convince him.

After the events from last night, you had been praying to Eywa regularly throughout the day to just please, please send you a sign so you could fully be with the Olo‘eyktans son. But there was nothing so far, dampening your mood significantly.

You were pulled from your thoughts, when suddenly someone sat next to you, pulling you into his arms. „'Teyam“, you giggled when he kissed your cheek gently, turning so you could look at him better. Eywa, he looked so handsome with his visor and bow still sling over his back. „Hello syulang“, he mumbled into your ear and you hummed contentedly.

Before either of you could get any more handsy infront of the clan, your ears were assaulted by a loud 'woosh' sound, the fires that were burning blown out and in the middle of the clearing was something that made you heart stop. The white light that had brought you here.

Everyone was frozen, staring at the slightly pulsing and swaying white orb, that looked otherwise harmless, when you were pulled out of your rigor by Neteyams arms tightening around you. You looked at him and could see the horror in his eyes, knowing exactly what that was from the description you had given him.

You felt like this was it, this was your sign, and somehow you had the urge to get a bit closer. You were wondering why Neteyam let you go so easily, but you felt like you were in trance, having to face the thing that changed your life.

Everyone else didn’t move, looking either at you or still at the light, and you slowly moved through the crowd. Did this mean you had to go back home? Your thoughts strayed to your apartment, your books probably still sitting on the side table. Your crochet blanket abandoned on the couch. The little dingy kiosk you worked in, your rude neighbor complaining about going up the stairs too loud.

You stopped infront of the light. Was that home? You raised your hand a bit. But back where you came from, that wasn’t really home.

Home was gossiping with Kiri while weaving baskets, and trying to talk Lo‘ak out of whatever stupid thing he had planned again (but going along with it in the end). It was swimming with Tuk and reading in that hammock above the trees. It was laying in Neteyams arms, falling in love with him.

This was the sign you had been praying for, Eywa was giving you the choice to stay here or to go back. You smiled for a moment, lowering your hand and turning to where you knew Jake and Neytiri were sitting. „I’d like to stay if that’s okay“, you were talking quietly, but going by the leaders grin, he heard you loud and clear.

As if the tension snapped, the light disappeared into the sky as quickly as it came, the fires mysteriously burning again, and then you were engulfed by a happily sobbing Kiri. Tuk was clinging to your leg and even Lo‘ak joined the hug making you laugh in relief. „I’m so glad you stayed tsmuke“, Kiri grinned, before letting go to let her parents step forward. [sister]

To your surprise, Neytiri pulled you into a hug too, followed by Jake and you were smiling but also blushing a bit from all the attention. Not to mention the clan cheering around you. „Thank you (Y/N), thank you for staying“, Neytiri said, Jake squeezing your shoulder in gratitude and you know they meant 'thank you for not breaking our sons heart’.

But where was said son? Kiri pulled you close, seemingly knowing what you were thinking when you were looking around searching for him. „When he saw you raise your hand he took off, I don’t know where he went“, she looked concerned, and you knew why - Neteyam probably thought you were going to take the chance to go back home when you had raised your hand for a moment.

———————————

He didn’t know how long he had been running through the forest, he didn’t feel the leaves hitting his face or the bark scratching his body when he passed the trees to close. He was panting, trying to suppress the feelings that would be his downfall, but when he arrived in the hammock you were always reading in - his brain leading him there instinctively - and the last book you’ve read laid there forgotten, he broke down.

You reached out for the light, you left him, leaving him alone in this world while you went to another. He couldn’t even bear to watch you disappear, his heart feeling like it was shriveling up and dying at the thought that he would never get to see you again. Hold you in his arms, feel your lips on his like last night. He couldn’t even blame you for wanting to go back, if he would be thrown into another world he would probably want to too.

He could feel tears streaming down his face and the way he began to panic, the book you were holding in your hands just two days ago taunting him, and he felt like he could hear you call his name. 'Teyam!' he was sure he was hallucinating your voice, kneeling down infront of the book in anger, begging Eywa to make it stop.

The pain mixed with your soft voice drove him insane and he was about to rip the book apart in anger, when your voice suddenly sounded a lot closer and a lot more real.

„Don’t you dare destroy my book 'Teyam“, you had known exactly where he would go when he was this upset about you, finding him in the hammock just like you thought. Your heart was breaking for the man you loved, he seemed to be so broken thinking that you were gone.

But when he heard your voice so close, he finally seemed to snap out of it, his eyes meeting yours and a sob left his mouth. „You’re not real“, he whispered, shaking his head in desperation and you immediately scrambled closer with a concerned look on your face.

„I didn’t leave, I’d never leave you Neteyam“, you promise him, your hands settling on his cheeks and making him look into your eyes again. „But…but you reached out to the light…you left“, he whimpered, not sure if he should believe you or not. „If you would’ve stayed two seconds longer, you would’ve seen I decided to stay, stay here with you“, you smiled, wiping away his tears, but he still seemed reluctant.

„This can’t be real“, his eyes moved over you in wonder, seemingly trying to decide if you were really here or just a bittersweet trick his mind was playing on him. Until he felt a sharp pinch on his biceps, looking at you slightly offended. „You believe I’m real now?“, you grinned, and when it sunk in that you really were here, that you stayed for him, he tackled you to the floor (carefully of course) and pressed his lips to yours.

Now that you knew you would never have to leave and could be with him fully, the kiss felt different than before. Less desperate and more on the deeper side, your emotions running at an all time high. You pulled back slightly, blushing at the way he was laying on top of you and looking at you with hooded eyes full of passion.

„This sign…it means I’ll never leave 'Teyam“, you whispered, a bit flushed from the kiss and from what you were trying to insinuate. His eyes immediately darkened in understanding. „Please say it. Please say you’ll be my mate“, his voice was husky, and as if that wasn’t enough, with the way he was laying between your legs, you could feel a very prominent bulge pressing right up against your moist tweng.

You nodded your head with a gentle smile. „I’m yours if you’ll still have me. Please take me ma 'Teyam“, you bit your lip in nervousness, not usually this bold, but the way a punched out groan left his mouth made it worth it.

He couldn’t hold back anymore when you called him the pet name usually reserved for mated couples, pulling you into another kiss immediately. You were finally his, and he would make sure to show you and everyone else that you belonged to him - some primal side of him set free at the permission to finally bond and mate with you.

He kissed you senseless til you both needed to breathe, his lips then trailing down your delicate neck, leaving marks along the way and leaving you breathless. You were so perfect, the way you were completely giving yourself to him, trusting him and being so pliable, it made him almost cum into his tweng. You would be the perfect mate, and perfect mother. Eywa, he was so in love.

His large hands freed you of your chest covering, his eyes never leaving your breasts, your nipples peaking under his intense gaze. „Don’t just stare“, you whined, already desperate for his touch and with a predatory grin he took you into his mouth. You chocked on our moan, his tongue a rough texture that felt oh so good on your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure right to your pulsing core.

Neteyam was lost in your soft and heavy breasts, clearly your human DNA had an influence there, considering they were bigger and softer than normal Na‘vi breasts. But he was loving it, and he was especially loving your sensitivity, arching your back and pushing your chest into his mouth.

He switched to the other nipple, grazing it with his teeth, and you swear if he wanted to he could’ve made you cum just from that. But you needed more. „'Teyam please, I need you“, you begged, your thighs trying to clench in order to get some friction, but his massive body blocked them.

He finally pulled himself away from your chest in order to take of your tweng, and shuffled down your body, so that he could bully his way between your thighs with his broad shoulders and expose your wet and swollen pussy to him.

„Eywa you’re so perfect ma yawne“, he groaned when he saw the way you were clenching around nothing, your smell making him dizzy in the best way, and before you could plead with him to touch you, his hot mouth was already on you. He was stroking your clit with his rough tongue painstakingly slowly, pulling your legs over his shoulder and holding you so firm by your hips that you were sure you would be sprouting bruises later (that you would wear around the village with pride).

You could only take what he gave you, his vice grip not giving you much space to do anything else, but the way he was in control scratched something primal inside you, making you submit to him even more. Suddenly he pushed two fingers into you, slowly fucking you with them and making sure you’re prepared to take him.

Your tail subconsciously wrapped around his arm, making him groan into your pussy and you squeezed around his fingers at that. But when he started sucking on your swollen and sensitive clit, adding a third finger and hitting that spongey spot inside you perfectly, you came without warning, breathless moans and whimpers leaving your mouth.

He growled at the feeling of you cumming on his tongue, your pussy sucking in his fingers desperately and he couldn’t wait for them to be replaced by his cock. He only stopped when you were pushing him away in oversensitivity, unhappy with having to stop tasting your sopping pussy.

But then you pulled at his arm to get him on top of you again and quicker than you would’ve thought possible he was kissing you again. He tried to pour all his adoration and love into that one kiss, telling you all the things he currently couldn’t form into words.

He pulled back panting, a loving smile adorning his face. You were breathless with anticipation when he pulled his kuru over his shoulder, urging you to do so too. „Are you ready yawne, ready to become mine forever?“, he asked in a husky voice, the anticipation killing him. „Of course I am ma 'Teyam“, you smiled and then the two of you were already exposing the sensitive tendrils at the end of you braids.

Slowly you were moving them towards one another, letting them wrap around eachother, joining you both forever through the sacred bond. A shudder ran through the both of you, your tails and ears moving in ecstasy. You could really feel him, feel your souls joining eachother, effectively making you one, making you mates.

„Ma muntxa“, Neteyam growled right next to your ear, not being able to hold back his primal urges anymore. So he got rid of his loincloth quickly, hissing when his hard cock slid between your pussy lips, covering him in your essence. You whimpered when his head caught you clit, effectively spreading around his precum on your already weeping cunt.

„Please ma 'Teyam, need you“, you pleaded, moving your hips in an effort to catch his head in your entrance. Seeing how desperate you were, he didn’t waste anymore time, bracing himself onto of you more securely, before carefully sinking into the hot cradle between your thighs.

He had to refrain himself from pounding into you right away, reminding himself that this was your first time. You were holding onto his biceps for support, the feeling of fullness spreading through you like wildfire. It was overwhelming, feeling the bond and then feeling him so deep inside you physically too, stretching your poor pussy almost past its limit.

He was thick, his cock adorned with ridges that rubbed your sweet spot just the right way with every inch he pushed in, until he was finally bottomed out. His heavy balls were resting against your ass, basically pulsing with all the seed he had ready to fill you up.

Neteyam was growling next to your ear, his muscles tense in struggle to keep still and letting you adjust. But your tight, wet heat was pulling around him like a vice, trying to suck him in and he felt his hips start moving on their own account.

He started dragging back his hips more with each thrust, your walls clamping down tight and breathless whimpers leaving your lips. The way he was moving above you, all coiled muscle and pleasured expression was making you feel some type of way - especially the way he was so dominating and primal, starting to lose control and pound into you with vigor.

He gripped your thigh with one hand, angling his hips different, and then he was thrusting into your sweet spot with every move of his hips. The moans and whines were falling freely from your mouth, spurring him on further and when he thought about how you were finally his, his mate, he pulled you into another deep kiss.

„Oh god 'Teyam I’m g-gonna-", you tried telling him you were about to cum, but he interrupted you with another kiss, his hips never faltering. But it seemed like he knew what you were saying, one of his hands moving between you and firmly circling your clit, pushing you over the edge so suddenly, you could only open your mouth in a silent scream.

Neteyam groaned in despair when he felt you tighten around him, almost blowing his load right then, but he was determined to have you cum a third time so he continued fucking you through your orgasm until you were whining from the overstimulation.

He slowed down a bit, but never ceasing his thrusts entirely, letting you catch your breath for a moment. „You okay yawne?“, he kissed your cheek gently, making your eyes open with a satisfied smile. „Yeah, perfect“, you answered, and his heart melted at the way you looked at him with so much love.

With a grin, he picked up the speed and force of his thrusts again, suddenly overcome by the reality of getting you pregnant. He let out a loud moan, the thought of you swollen with his child, the evidence of your bond and the way everyone would know to keep their hands off of you, made him slide in and out of your tight heat with determination.

„Eywa, I’m almost there ma yawne“, your mate groaned above you, „gonna fill you up so good love, gonna make sure you’ll carry my child.“ The suddenly carnal desires spilling out of his mouth awakened something deep inside of you, and you whined pathetically, clinging on to your mate while your next high was - to your surprise - already approaching.

„Fuck, you just got so tight, you want that mhm? Want your mate to fill you up? Get you pregnant?“, he panted above you, abs flexing against you and cock still relentlessly abusing your sensitive cunt in just the perfect way. „Yes, please ma 'Teyam“, you gasped, feeling his urges through the bond intensely.

And then he changed his angle a bit, his lower abdomen grinding into your clit just slightly with every harsh thrust he gave you, and it didn’t take long before the breath was knocked out of you with your next orgasm.

You were gripping him so tight, your whole body begging him to breed you, sucking him deeper than you thought was possible. He only managed a few more thrusts before burying himself as far as possible inside you, almost painfully hitting your cervix, before spilling his seed into you with a loud growl.

He was grinding into you a little still, his cock so tight inside of you that his cum seemed to flow directly into your womb, making you feel oh so deliciously full - and also prolonging your high significantly, your body trying to take all it was given.

When you were both slowly coming back to yourselves, Neteyam carefully turned you around, laying on his back with you on top and making sure his cock stayed inside of you so nothing could spill out. „Ma (Y/N)“, he sighed dreamily, pushing your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead gently.

The satisfied but tired smile never leaving your lips, you looked up a bit with hooded eyes. „Are you okay yawne? I didn’t hurt you?“, the man who had been mercilessly fucking you stupid just a few minutes ago was suddenly the sweet and caring male you knew.

„No you didn’t my love, everything is just perfect“, you sighed happily, feeling safe and whole in his arms, the soft kiss he pressed to your lips only intensifying that feeling. „Promise me you’ll never leave?“, you almost didn’t hear him, your mate suddenly sounding so insecure it made your heart break. „Never. I’ll never leave, I love you so much 'Teyam“, you kissed him again, humming a bit when his (somehow still hard) cock moved inside of you.

„Oel ngati kameie“, he whispered, holding you even tighter and your burrowed your head in his neck softly kissing it. „I see you“, you whispered back.

=================

Sooo finally after for fucking ever I had the motivation to write again and I think this is actually my longest single one yet! I hope you enjoyed the somewhat more complicated starting situation and I hope I didn’t rush it too much, I thought if you didn’t enjoy your life on earth you would adjust pretty well, but I don’t know :) If you wanna be on my Taglist let me know!

Leave me some feedback your sweet replies always motivate me to finally get my ass up and write ahaha and thank you for the likes and reblogs in advance!! Love you all xx

Tags: @eywas-heir @brooklynscherry-z @liyahsocorro @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

#x reader #fluff #angst #smut #avatar #neteyam #neteyam x reader #james cameron avatar #navi #pandora

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leiflitter · 5 months

Note

hey i need ur felix and oliver and cattonquick headcanon s RIGHT NOW… ❤️

Well uh uh uh there's 200k+ words on ao3 which contains some of this but... under the cut because it's vaguely nsfw in places, keeping this as like... Oxford Ladz.

Felix is shit in bed unless you turn it into a challenge/game, and even then he's lazy as fuck so good luck. Most girls don't care because shagging Felix is like being chosen by a god. His routine is: snog for a bit, maybe shove his hand down your knickers, then it's the Catton Jackhammer asap until he rolls off you and falls asleep.

Going out with Felix is generally shit. He shags you maybe 4 times, then ghosts you and you find out he's moved on by seeing him fingering another girl outside of a club at 2am. He might buy you something, but the most expensive gift he'll get you is most likely some shots or a 3am kebab.

Oliver? Good in bed because he is An Observer and will see what works then Do That Until You Die. However, he only really sleeps with girls to help Felix out (he gets the friend, Felix gets the hot girl). He mostly thinks of Felix when he does this, but tells himself it's in a lie back and think of england way. He also tends to stick to hands/mouth stuff, because otherwise it's "why aren't you hard" and he panics.

Oliver is perpetually single, despite Felix's best efforts. Felix does not understand why girls have such bad taste. He insists Ollie is an absolute legend and anyone would be lucky to have him. He also gets oddly grumpy if any girls DO organically hit on Ollie, though.

Felix's short-lived "girlfriends" all think it's a little weird that Felix touches Oliver more than he touches them. Like he won't hold hands in public, but he's got his arm around Oliver all the time? Weird. If you're dancing with Felix and go to get a drink, most of the time he'll be dancing with Oliver once you're back and it is hard to get his attention back.

Felix gives me vague adhd vibes, maybe dyslexia, but he was born in the 80s and he's rich af, so it's never really mattered because he never has to try.

Big Oliver Autism vibes, the man is MASKING but again... circumstances mean he's just brute forcing things.

Felix has been made to play Team Sports but doesn't like them unless it's for silly reasons.

Oliver likes exercising, but mostly goes to the gym to be in a weird little physical activity enduced void.

Felix has honestly been bi as fuck forever, but never really considered why he was down to let lads in his dorm snog him back in boarding school because it was just kinda the done thing. Haha, just hormones, amiright?

Both of them feel vaguely destined to become their fathers and do not want to do that.

Felix had very weird feelings for Damon Albarn as a teen but again. Never thought about it too hard, he's just a pretty man, bloody hormones again!

Oliver cannot drive. He refuses to drive. He has his provisional licence for ID and that's IT.

Felix is often trying to annoy Oliver because any attention is good attention. Oliver just wants to revise, Felix, please stop drawing dicks on his notebook.

Felix absolutely is going full hair-twirly, eyelid-fluttery, dreamboy bimbo at Oliver constantly. Oliver does not pick up on this, but Farleigh does and is honestly a little disgusted.

Speaking of- Farleigh is primarily concerned that he pegged Oliver for an absolute capital-L Loser on day ONE and now his stupid cousin is basically throwing himself at Oliver. Farleigh has theories, including maybe hypnosis or Felix having some sort of brain injury from Team Sports.

Oliver was absolutely bullied in school, but not extremely, because he learned to make himself invisible. Head down, keep going, don't react.

Oliver didn't really GET music until Felix showed him stuff that wasn't just radio pop music. Unfortunately, this was after Oliver spent way too long trying to understand why Steps were so popular.

Oliver's initial haircut is based off of Zac Efron's in High School Musical. He has never seen HSM, but something about Zac Efron made him feel weird, and it just sort of... happened. He has a type, and it's Jawline and Eyebrows.

Felix's first thought upon getting close enough for Oliver to do the Big Blue Eyes Look Up At Him was "oh no," followed by just question marks and bike panic. And also, bi panic.

Farleigh complained to Felix a lot about Oliver but never used his name. It was just "the fucking nerd in my tutorial group".

Oliver honestly didn't connect Farleigh and Felix as cousins, because he was mostly too busy trying not to be painfully in love with Felix to join the dots from a throwaway comment in his first tutorial.

The money in Oliver's wallet at the pub was meant to last for the next two weeks. Boy gotta get lunch and buy bodywash and stuff, not shots for rich kids.

Felix immediately begins relying on Oliver to know his schedule. Oliver just accepts this and sends Felix reminder texts for his tutorials.

Felix keeps leaving hoodies in Oliver's dorm room. This is weird because they are rarely in there for longer than a minute or two. Oliver wears these hoodies because Felix keeps insisting that they'd suit him. Farleigh, yes, sees this and is fucking CONCERNED.

Felix assumes he'll have to get married and have kids as it is his duty to continue the Catton Line. He keeps making weird jokes about his and Oliver's kids getting married.

Oliver says he fancies Kiera Knightley. This is incorrect. Kiera Knightley is just the closest woman he could find to Felix.

Oliver lies to his parents mostly to avoid any visits or needing to go home because going back there is awful and stifling and guilt-inducing.

A few people in their group refer to Oliver as Felix's Pet, but only when neither of them are there. Farleigh started it.

Felix's initial emotional reaction to Ollie's Field Reveal was immense pride and the urge to punch Farleigh in the arm very hard if he didn't stop staring, the pervert. Felix was not staring, he was merely pointing his eyes in that direction, thanks.

Felix always has something in his mouth and it makes Oliver want to die. Most of Oliver's pens and pencils have Felix toothmarks on.

Felix does not understand how much things cost. Oliver does. Oliver wishes Felix would stop picking things up that "made me think of you, Ollie!" Because. Felix. That t-shirt was £50. What is WRONG WITH YOU.

Felix has occasionally considered seeing if Ollie'd be up for a devil's threeway if he found someone willing. He isn't brave enough to ask, because he knows Oliver would say no, but he thinks about the idea a lot. You know. Just a regular wild Uni party thing, right?

If Oliver hadn't gone to Felix, Felix would have turned up sloppy, SLOPPY drunk outside of Oliver's room one night and had a big baby tantrum and probably shoved his tongue down Oliver's throat. It would be the worst handjob of Oliver's life, but also the best.

#leiflitter answers #saltburn headcanons #felix catton/oliver quick #cattonquick #i stand firmly on “felix sucks as a boyfriend” island come fight me

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dontyoufeelitangel · 10 days

Text

Doomsday Blue

The bad batch x Jedi!Reader ~ In which order 66 takes place, will they save you, hunt you or even hide you?

WARNINGS: angst, blood, injuries, guns, cursing, near death experience, choking, crosshair isn’t nice, unconsciousness, violence, order 66

I speak to destroy,

If anything could be uttered from someone’s mouth that would destroy life as you know it, what would that be? A sentence that would ruin everything. Luckily, some people will never be put in that situation. You loathe them for that.

You wish, somehow, someway, that you could go back in time. Give yourself the life you deserve. A quiet life, a simple life.

But that would never happen.

So now you sit with evil words plaguing your mind. Not your own words of course, but the words of someone else. The words of a person you’d never think would say them.

Execute order 66.

It rung in your ears like a bell.

And because everything happened in a flash, your brain had no time to form thoughts. So those two words, one number, marinated in your skull as chaos played out around you.

Execute order 66

Order 66

Oh god, what had your life become? Why was this happening? Why you?

Your self questioning stopped as soon as it came. There was no time for selfish thoughts, no, your feet started running.

As fast as you could, as fast as the force would let you.

With each step, each burning breath, each heartbeat, your head became more dizzy.

You had run far enough into the forest to take a break. Your eyes shot around looking at your surroundings, scanning for movement. There was none for the time being.

With that you force jumped into a tree. Now sitting on a branch you let it all sink in.

Order 66.

In all honesty, you didn’t know what it was, you could only make guesses.

All you knew is that the Jedi were being killed and they had been given direct orders to do so.

You’d watched as Jedi and padawan around you were struck down.

Their cherry red blood staining the perfect white snow. The snow didn’t seem to absorb the thick liquid, rather let it puddle and flow out around them.

Blasters of the clones had been bursting around you, thankfully none managed to get you before you ran away.

You could still hear them now, the blasters, the way they radiate a painful buzz and a fire-like warmth. Along with the blasters you also heard screams, the screams of your fellow Jedi and padawans. The shouts were ripped from their throats, raw and pure.

You felt horrible, disgusting even.

Jedi were dead. And you just ran, only thinking for yourself, for your own life.

Your decision was not the Jedi way, you were supposed to help those in need, protect.

You were not a good Jedi.

Jedi don’t form relationships, maybe that’s where you messed up.

Thinking you could befriend clones, thinking they would spare you.

You ran before they could even arrive.

The clones you had ran from were none other than clone force 99.

A group of four faulty clones and a spare robot-like one.

You loved them, all of them. In the strongest way you could love a friend.

But now, you aren’t sure what you felt. Did you still love them? Or did you put the actions on the other clones onto their shoulders and hate them for what had happened?

SNAP

The sound startled you, it came from below your hiding spot.

You sucked in your breath and gripped onto the tree, fearfully you looked down from you hiding spot in the tree.

It was hunter.

You could tell from the orangish-red detailing that adorned his suit.

You didn’t know what to think of him, yet, you kept your eyes laser focused on him.

It was unfortunate hunter had followed you, he’d find you in an instant, you thought to yourself.

He has his name for a reason,

His head scans the area, he stills himself as he listens for sounds. The only sound that could be heard was the crunching of the snow from behind him.

It was crosshair, he had followed hunter. Perhaps they were both looking for you.

The pit of your stomach swirled with anxiety.

You had no doubt of your strength and skills. Infact, you were almost positive you could beat a clone in any sort of fight,

But if clones were killing Jedi, these were the two clones you wouldn’t want to be stuck with.

Their hunting and shooting skills made them a dangerous pair, a weapon.

You peered onto the ground below you, your own fear drowning out whatever they were saying to eachother.

You didn’t dare draw your lightsaber, for the flaming purr of the blade would certainly get you caught.

A tear rimmed your eye lids,

Don’t let them make you cry, your are not scared, don’t let them see you cry. Your own words repeated in your head.

In an attempt to calm yourself down you sniffed up your tears and your chest let out a low whimper, one of fear.

This was your downfall, crosshair had heard you.

And without thinking he aimed his blaster directly at you, no hesitation on his part.

You didn’t mind the fact it was aimed at you, the thought of him actually shooting you without a question or doubt is what clung to you.

Lost in thought, you missed the sound of the riffle blaster, you only noticed when you felt a searing pain in your shoulder,

A blood curling screech ripped itself from your throat, leaving your vocal cords raw and pained.

The force of the shot has sent you back, the balance you had on the branch was lost as you wobbled.

Not even a second had pasted before you truly did lose your grip on the tree and came tumbling down.

The felt yourself falling and you felt the numbing thud of the ground,

Your lungs let out one last roar as you landed, a mirror of your true pain, it was a long scream, one you’d see in movies.

Your body writhed upon impact with the ground,

It felt like minutes before your lungs filled with air, your screams had left your throat rough and with each breath felt like fire.

You blinked a few times, you heard harsh footsteps of the two clones you were previously watching.

Despite the pain, you scrambled to your knees backing away from the two.

Tears were pouring out, from the physical and mental pain of it all.

It was pitiful honestly, a Jedi crying and whimpering below two clones.

Yet it was horribly sad.

Crosshair had had his riffle pointed at you, finger on the trigger. Only putting it down after hunter had told him so. You’d like to pretend he put it down because he never actually wanted to kill you. Unfortunately you knew that wasn’t the truth.

Hunter took off his helmet and tossed it into the snow.

You stared at the helmet as you gripped onto your wounded shoulder. Blood was staining your body and the snow below you.

The moment of silence was only broken when you let out a sob.

Not a cry of fear, only a cry of the physical pain and toll the fall and shot had on your body.

You let out a whimper,

“How could you, you- you killed them all.” Your blurred gaze focused on the two men.

“The women and children too, and now you’ve come for me, how could you?” You questioned again, your words interrupted by sobs.

When the men stayed silent you pressed again,

“How could you!!” You meant to scream it, yet it only came out as a raw shout.

A genuine face of sympathy came from hunter.

You shuffled a little farther from them.

Hunter has noticed your fear and took a step back, raising his hands in an effort to show innocence.

As for crosshair, you couldn’t see his face, he stood there riffle in hand ready to shoot at any moment.

“We haven’t come to hurt you -much less kill you” hunters voice was almost convincing, his hands still raised.

Almost.

You had to remind yourself you’d been shot, which was pretty easy to remember from the fire like pain in your arm.

“You-“ you sucked in a breath, gripping you shoulder more,

“,, already have,,” you winced, it was getting hard to breathe. The fall might’ve broken a few ribs.

At your sentence crosshair puffed up, gripping his blaster riffle closer to him. Like a snake ready to strike at any moment,

Hunters brows furrowed as he looked at crosshair,

With a single glance from hunter, crosshair seemed to stand down.

Slowly -cautiously, you stacked your body on top of eachother, forcing yourself to stand up.

Despite the pain, you did it, you stood up.

Your tear stained face began to fill with anger,

“We don’t know what’s going on, “ hunter stated, an attempt to calm you down.

You cut him off,

“Obviously you do, don’t fuck with me Hunter” you barked at him.

Hunter and crosshair were the men you had once loved, you shared a friendship like no other with them.

“I won’t let you kill me, “

The words dripped out of your mouth, and like water it created a ripple, a domino effect.

At your declaration, crosshair aimed his riffle at you.

In return, your lightsaber lit up, casting a ghostly blue light on the scene.

The blue had been such a deep contrast to the red detailing of Hunter and crosshairs suits.

You held the blade defensively in front of you, gritting your teeth ready to swing at any moment.

Hunter has come between the two of you, crosshair refused this boundary as he took large steps to pass Hunter and be in direct line with you.

You let out a huff, though it came out more like a grunt.

“We’ll see about that, “ crosshair aimed his blaster riffle at you, ready to shoot. Luckily Hunter grabbed the gun and pointed the neck of it to the ground.

A blast went off in the snow, leading to bursts of snow and rock to fly.

Crosshair couldn’t do much but yank the blaster in attempt to release it of hunters grip, though Hunter easily overpowered crosshair when it came to strength.

You swirled the blade of your saber behind and around you,

The cold wind against the heated blade resulted in the hum of your saber to be louder than usual.

You swift movements of the blade weren’t for impressing the clones, rather it was an attempt to intimidate them.

“You need to tell me what’s going on right now,” you told them, voice now clear of your previous crying. The only trace of pain in your voice was from your damaged vocal cords.

“Order 66” crosshair said, he had given up on trying to get his riffle out of hunters grip, instead he reached for a smaller hand held blaster.

Before Hunter could react, crosshair shot the riffle,

Before he could aim at you you pushed him away with the force.

He tumbled back and fell to the ground as the blaster ray had hit a nearby tree. It left a faint smell of burning wood as well as light smoke coming from the blaster shot hole.

While cross hair was down you used the force to throw any of their weapons far away.

They didn’t go far because of how weak your injuries made you, thankfully the iciness of the snow allowed them to glide slightly farther away.

“I can’t believe this ,, I- I can’t believe you,” you stuttered out, in shock with the fact crosshair would try to shoot you again. This wasn’t him, he’d never do that to you, would he?

“What the fuck is order 66, why- why I don’t get it!” at this point words were just flowing out of your mouth, not much thought behind them.

You withdrew your lightsaber, the blue blade slowly retracting as the snow lost its blue hue.

Your breaths became shorter, and you felt dizzy. It was the loss of blood from your wound.

“Order 66, all Jedi are traitors to the republic and are to be killed” your eyes shot to crosshair whom was still on the ground.

Within his voice you could hear a string of remorse, only for a second though.

You let out a laugh that came out more like a scoff,

This didn’t make any sense, you brought your hand to hold your head. You felt as blood from your hands transferred onto your face, you felt the warmth of it all.

“You know me! You know me! “ you sounded like a broken record, skipping itself as it was on loop.

“You know I’d never do anything to betray the republic, you know this!!” Anger had left your body, the sorrow had returned once again.

Hunter had still been puzzled, it was true, he had known you for a long time. He had known you wouldn’t be a traitor. In fact, you have been with him and the rest of the clones for some while now, you were always within his sight. There was no way you could’ve done something offensive to the republic.

The only thing that snapped hunter out of his thought ridden trance was the sound of your hoarse breathing.

Your head shot to the side when you heard more ruffling coming from the trees, more clones emerged.

Hunter turned his head as well, crosshairs remained looking at you.

It was wrecker and tech.

For a quick second your eyes softened at the sight of tech.

Out of all five clones, hunter, crosshair, wrecker, and echo, he was the only clone with visible eyes.

It brought a sense of reality. A sense of humanity. Seeing someone’s eyes when the rest of their being was hidden behind metal scraps.

But as soon as your eyes softened, they froze back in fear.

They were here to kill me,

Crosshairs needed back up so he called the other boys, all these clones, my friends, they were here to kill me. The thought had you terrified.

In a fit of fear, you ignited your saber again.

Once again, the blue light radiating off your blade filled the forest and painted their faces in a ghastly shade. You could see the brightly lit silhouette of your blade in their masks.

At the draw of your flame blade the clones perked up, defensively standing, ready for you to strike at any moment.

The blade wobbled in your grip, fear and weakness flooding your senses.

Hunter still stood, maskless as the barrier between you and the rest of the clones.

You noticed behind him was cross hair getting up from off the ground. You had no fear of him, his blasters were a good length away. There was no way for him to injure you.

Wrecker and tech in the other hand, did have their weapons, not that it bothered you.

As much as you feared for your life, you knew tech wasn’t one for weapons and wrecker stuck to hand-to-hand combat.

You heard the masculine voice of hunter, free of his mask his voice was no longer filtered.

“Tech,” he called upon the clone.

“What do you know about order 66?” He pressed. Eye contact still remaining with you.

His question seemed to irk crosshair. A buzz of annoyance radiated from crosshair, he had already given an answer as to what order 66 was. Yet, hunter didn’t believe him. Hunter didn’t believe him, and the burning sting of distrust filled crosshairs stomach.

“I’m not certain,, “ tech answered slowly. Despite his distance from you, tech seemed to notice your blaster injury.

Tech was a smart man, he knew who gave you that injury. You could see his brows furrow as he gave a glance to crosshair, then back at you.

“Bullshit!” Your shout startled them. You angled your light saber in techs direction.

Your teeth were barred and grit, as you choked on your breaths.

With each inhale and exhale your stomach pulsed and pumped.

The sight was ironic.

The way a Jedi was scared and surrounded by clones, faulty clones at that. You felt like nothing, you felt weak.

You were surprised wrecker had stayed silent the whole time. It was unlike him to not speak.

It almost seemed as if there was no way he could make light of the situation, therefore he had nothing to say, nothing to comment on.

“We aint gonna hurt ya’” the words came out of wreckers mouth as he shrugged his shoulders. His booming voice filled the forest. He didn’t mean to be as loud as he was, that’s just who he is.

You looked at him, you couldn’t say anything in return. You knew they wanted to hurt you, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to yell at wrecker. You knew deep down he had good intentions, and a soft heart.

“We,,” tech started, almost as if he was unsure about what he was going to say. It’s not like him, to be unsure. In fact, you don’t recall a moment he’s ever been wrong. So hearing the uncertainty in his voice made your heart sink.

“We seemed to be immune to the command.” He started.

“ we are genetically modified, there must be something stopping us from following order 66, whatever that order may be…” he stated

Crosshair let out a sound between a sigh and a grunt.

“Right,,” you scoffed,

“Then crosshair just shot me for fun,”

“He tried to kill me!” You screamed at tech, though the scream was meant for crosshair.

A wince of sympathy shot through tech and hunters eyes. As for wrecker, he looked down awkwardly, mask void of any emotion.

You twisted one leg over the other, making shuffling steps towards the forest.

Tech, Hunter and wrecker didn’t seem to care at your movements, it was only crosshair who reacted,

You were planning on running.

Running away from the clones, running away from being a Jedi. Just running away from it all.

And so you did.

With one last sniff of your tears, and huff of your lungs, you drew back your lightsaber. The second you did, crosshair lunged at you. Before he could grasp you, you painfully turned around and ran.

Your running was sloppy, messy and hardly a run. Thankfully you were force running, so despite your weakness you still traveled faster than the clones could.

You could hear your name being called from the clones. You couldn’t tell who, all you knew was your name.

You ran and ran, passing trees and bushes.

The cold wind passed your body in razor like ways, the coldness burned your face yet your wounded arm felt peacefully warm.

Your foot caught on something,

A loose root from a tree.

You tried yanking your self out but with no victory. Your leather Jedi boots created friction with the damp woodiness of the root, making it extra difficult to release yourself.

In the far far distance you could see crosshair, he held his riffle. He must’ve grabbed it from off the ground before following you.

The sight of him sent you into a panic, giving up on pulling your foot out you opted for unzipping the boot and leaving the shoe there.

You picked yourself from up off the ground and continued running. Without a shoe there was a mere sock shielding your foot from the hazardous snow.

Your foot became damp and cold from the icy snow, occasionally you’d step on an ice shard and let out a pained sob.

As you ran your speed slowed, you limped and wobbled. You could feel your hair getting frizzy and matted in the wind, you could care less.

A scream was pulled from your scarred lungs, the scream so loud it could be heard from a long distance away.

You didn’t seem to feel the pain of another bullet would as you landed against the snow, it cushioned your fall.

The pain only set in after you had fallen and hit the ground,

You’d been shot,

Again.

This time in your thigh.

Blood erupted from your leg spilling onto the rocky snow.

You felt the warmth of your own essence seeping out from your leg, with a quick glance down you saw the wound, how it mangled the section of your thigh.

You cursed under your breath before a string of struggle came from your lips.

Coarse moans drew from your lips as you coughed and sputtered, the fall had knocked the wind out of you.

With pounding foot steps you felt another presence come up to you.

With a lunge the person jumped onto you,

Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the mask of crosshair above you.

His gloved hands gripping your throat, cutting off all circulation.

You tried clawing at him, you tried pushing his stomach off of you, you were simply to weak.

You opened your mouth and screamed, that’s all you could let out before you ran out of oxygen.

You felt the compression of his hands around your throat, the way they gripped you. You felt each individual finger and the warmth radiating off his hands.

Tears brimmed your eyes before falling and streaming down your face. Your mouth would slam shut, only to open in an attempt for oxygen. Oxygen you never received.

Your face was draining of colour, you felt yourself slipping.

You tried using the force to push cross hair off of you, and when that didn’t work you made a sad attempt at igniting your light saber.

Before it could turn on a hand ripped it from your grip, this was unfortunate but it had given you a small chance to gulp oxygen.

The saber was thrown to the side before crosshairs hand returned to your throat. Your body squirmed and seized under him.

Soon you slowed down, tears still flowing out your eyes.

You managed to let out a pitiful beg,

“Please- .. please- crosshair,, h-help me! Stop!” You whimpered.

You didn’t know why you begged for his help, he was the one who put you in this situation.

For a second his grip on you faltered and you took several gasps for air.

Your eyelids were shut partially, you looked at him through your lashes. You blinked slowly,

“Hel- help me, help,,” you spoke in a much quieter tone, you had no where near enough energy to try to be vocal.

“Please!” Was the last thing you managed to scrape out of your throat, this time slightly louder than your previous statements,

You shut your eyes, and with that crosshair let go of your throat, stumbling back he ripped his helmet off.

Distress visible on his face, he was gasping for air the same way you had been seconds earlier.

You weren’t dead, not yet atl east. You had gone unconscious, the only thing keeping you alive was your shallow heartbeat and your faint breathes of air.

Crosshair didn’t mean to cause this much harm to you, he didn’t know what had come over him.

He couldn’t control himself.

Never in a thousand years would he have wanted to bring any harm to you, no, he loved you. You were amongst his closest friends.

His whole body was shaking in fear, pure fear of what he had done.

With wobbly legs and an unsteady breath he stood up, and stumbled away from you.

He couldn’t bring himself to kill you, even if it had been a direct order.

In a pang of self hate he turned around and stumbled away from you, leaving your unconscious body in the cold snow.

With one glance he looked back, gulping he was your blood, how it poured from your arm and leg, how it surrounded you. How he never wanted to see that shade of red on you again, he hated himself for his actions.

And in all honesty he didn’t even fully remember doing that all to you.

He saw your neck, and the newly forming bruises on you. How the purple and blueish hues matched his hands.

Blue, like your lightsaber.

Something in him compelled him to grab it, your light saber.

He picked it up from where he had thrown it and clipped it onto himself, the same way you used to clip it onto yourself.

With one more pained glance your way, he left.

Just like that, he was gone as soon as he came.

It hurt you, not just physically, to know that your friends would do such things to you.

Then again, nobody laid a finger on you,

Nobody but crosshair.

So maybe you shouldn’t lay all the blame on them, maybe it was only crosshair who deserved the blame for what had happened to you.

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, or hate any of them for that matter.

You knew they were clones, you knew they didn’t have control of themselves. You knew it was ridiculous to think they were different from the regs.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you did know you’d never trust them again.

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cosmos-coma · 1 year

Text

Metal’s Delicate Touch- Part 3

A/N: Muahaha, this was probably my most excitedly typed chapter when I was typing this series up. Have fun and feel the angst!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1,383

Summary: A team of armed men comes in search of Bucky... and Bucky comes too late.

Warnings: Guns, Held at gunpoint, blood, Injury/broken bones (not extreme), angst, language, general intense situations, Bucky slipping into the winter soldier

____________________________

You stayed in the apartment a few days more, both not knowing what to do next and... hoping he might still come back. After some days though, your mind finally rolled around to accepting this loss, even if your heart did not.

You tugged Bucky’s jacket tighter around your shoulders, taking in his scent as it embraced you with warmer memories. You had just finished putting the dishes away when you heard a heavy knock on the apartment door.

Your heart skipped as you looked toward the sound, “Bucky..?” you whispered, your words full of hope as you quickly padded towards the door. Your hand excitedly reached out for the handle when you paused, ‘But… Bucky wouldn’t have to knock,’ you thought to yourself.

Another heavy-handed knock rattled the door, much more impatient this time. You pulled your hand to your chest and backed away with soft steps- This wasn’t Bucky…. Your stomach dropped like a stone in the ocean as a terrible feeling washed over you.

Multiple voices spoke from beyond the door, ‘three of them… no-six?’ it was hard to get an accurate reading with your heartbeat rushing in your years. With no answer to sate them, the people outside grew quiet for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat, forcing you into a shaken silence. Your whole body was rigid with a fear your brain didn't understand, but the rest of your body did. You were a prey animal hiding in its den, playing a game with the predators outside called ‘Are you still there?’.

Your conscious mind told you to back away from the door, that maybe you could escape from the balcony. Your bare feet stepped backward carefully, your eyes never straying the door until…

Clang.

Your mug falls onto the hard surface of the table as you back into it- it didn’t break, but it didn’t matter. That single noise was almost deafening in the absolute silence of the room and your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the predators outside.

A few brief seconds passed before your door was rammed in, wood splintering into the room, and four men dressed in all-black military fatigues filed in. They held their guns at the ready and you suspected there was only more of the same standing outside. A patch saying ‘STRIKE’ with a blocky-looking eagle adorned each person's arms, but you couldn’t recognize the logo.

“Where the fuck is Barnes? Where is he?” the leader of them shouted at you as you got down on your knees. He pulled his tactical mask off, but you still didn’t recognize him from anywhere. “I said, WHERE IS HE?!” He pressed once more, raising his gun until you were staring right down the barrel.

“I DON’T KNOW..!!” you yelled back as tears streamed down your cheeks and your hands raised up. This was the second time in your life, only months apart, that you were being held at gunpoint and the fear was becoming overwhelming.

“I don’t know! Honest! He- He left days ago!” you said as you wiped your eyes and watched the other men in tactical uniforms search every inch and corner of the apartment before finally seeing that Bucky wasn't here and giving the word to stand down.

A shaky breath left you as the guns lowered, taking some of the anxiety and giving you a little resolve in return. You weren’t out of the woods yet- not by a mile- but at least you weren't staring down the wrong end of a gun.

“Hey, Commander?” one of the men said, “take a look at this.” Ice ran through your veins as the soldier held up a series of photo booth pictures, all images of Bucky laughing and kissing your cheek as you made funny faces at the camera. As much as it hurt to see the memories of your shared past, you knew that men like this would use anything to get what they want.

“Well, well, well… It seems our dear Winter Soldier has developed a soft spot.” said the leader, looking over the small line of photos, “I think we can use this… SHIELD won't like us coming back empty-handed anyways.” he said and dropped the photos without care. Your hand shot out to grab them as they fluttered to the ground, but the weight of his boot quickly intercepted you as he stepped down on your fingers with a sickening crack.

“Ah..!” You winced, retreating your hand back to your chest.

The Commander only held a smug look on his face as he snorted in vicious laughter, “get her into transport. And don’t make me wait.”

The hair stood up on the back of your neck as he turned to leave. The three soldiers left had already put their guns away and now pulled out zip ties and a dark bag instead.

You felt your breath quicken as you slowly got to your feet, looking at the figures that surrounded you. You may be outnumbered and you may not be as strong as them, but damn it- you weren’t about to go out without a fight.

----

Reticence haunted the building as Bucky made his way up the stairwell and back to the apartment you shared. No radio playing music or people chatting in the walkways, even the apartment was silent as he took the final step into your hall. No song, nor heartbeat sounded from the little room, so he had to assume you finally left. But why did it make his chest hurt so much to think about; after all- this is what he wanted isn’t it?

Isn’t it..?

A frown pulled at his lips as he came to the door, kneeling down to get a better look at the large circular indent at its center. “Someone forced their way in…” He mumbled to himself, fear and worry steadily rising in his chest. As he opened the door his worst fears were confirmed.

The apartment was completely trashed, plates smashed in the kitchen, books and papers thrown about, even-

Blood.

Blood spattered here and there around the room, not big enough for a gunshot, but maybe for a vicious hit. At least he knew you hadn’t gone down without a fight.

‘Dried. It has to be days old,’ he thought silently, something dark and ferocious stirring in him as he looked further at the scene. His breath quickened as his shoulders began to hunch as he paced about the living space, a deadly determination he only knew as the Winter Soldier began to fill him once again.

Crunch.

He paused, glancing down as he moved his foot away from the sound's origins, finding the shattered radio underneath. Kneeling to pick up its broken body another object caught his eye. Drops of blood ran over the hand-sized column of photos, covering your smiling face and blotting out his shining sun.

His jaw clenched as his teeth ground against themselves, a quiet rage coursing through every muscle, as he began pulling on his old gear.

He didn’t know why he kept it around- he swore he would never wear it again, never let himself slip back into that mindset. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He tucked the line of photographs into his jacket, right over his heart where it belonged.

He picked up his hidden stash of weapons from all over the apartment, filling his bag for a new sort of mission. He didn’t come back expecting to go to war- but he had no problem doing so. As he picked up his bag to once again leave a torn-off black and white patch jumped out at him. A blocky depiction of an eagle stared back at him with the word ‘STRIKE’ arching overhead.

He had seen this logo before, back when Hydra had still been controlling him. He pulled his mask on as he dropped the patch without care- he’d need the rest of his senses dulled if he was going to have the focus to find you.

His heavy footsteps chased out the quiet of the building, causing neighbors to peek out of their doors in frightened curiosity. But he didn’t pay them any mind as he headed out with both rage and direction.

It was time to visit SHIELD.

__________________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @browneyedgirl22

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whumpacabra · 6 months

Text

10. Bad Dog

Dissociation, forced to choose, head injury, stabbed, knife wound, strangulation, pinned down, attempted noncon, implied past noncon

AU Masterpost / Previous / Next

The Wolf wanted to get sick, but there was only bile in his stomach. His breathing felt hollow, lungs shuddering as his handler kicked H hard enough to have the man’s eyes flutter shut. Blood seeped from the gash left behind by the impact, syrupy and red.

H wasn’t dead. Not yet.

(It would have been a mercy H deserved.)

“Tell you what, Wolf.” He was outside his body, observing as his handler walked behind him, ripping his shirt back and off his arms. “We’re here because of your…creative alternative to my orders. You want to correct that mistake, hm?”

The Wolf nodded, body moving of its own accord as his handler ran a hand up his spine and wrapped his fingers loosely around his throat. H groaned on the ground, blood slick across his face.

“You break him the way I broke you, and maybe I’ll reconsider locking you in the Box.” His handler’s hand was running down his arm, lifting his hand, fitting something cold against his palm. “Or…you can give him mercy. And spend the rest of your life in the Box with his corpse.” His laughter was cutting and cruel. “Or what’s left of it when I’m through with the both of you. Now choose.”

The Wolf looked between the combat knife in his hand and H’s limp body on the floor. Mercy was all he had ever wanted. He had begged for mercy over his handler’s abuse a hundred times. But the Wolf could smell the rot and blood and worse that would surround him in the Box - he would die surrounded by it.

If he didn’t give H mercy, if he laid hands on him…maybe his handler would let him live. Maybe his handler would let both of them live. Maybe.

(Was it really living, heeling to his handler’s every beck and call?)

He felt himself drop to his knees next to H, the semiconscious man still fighting to open his eyes and see through the blood on his face.

Since when did the Wolf hesitate? Since when did his handler give him options? Since when did he have a choice?

There was no option.

There was never a choice.

His handler would kill H either way. His handler would hurt them both before he did. His handler would lock him in the Box bleeding and beaten to die next to the corpse of the first person in his memory who didn’t raise a hand against him.

“Oh, don’t be shy, like this - strip him down first, it’s easier after that.” His handler crooned over his shoulder, stepping around where the Wolf knelt to straddle H’s hips and begin pulling up his shirt.

The Wolf felt something in his chest shatter - a glass wall fractured, a chain broken, a hound let loose.

There was a knife in his hands and hate in his heart.

The blade plunged deeper than he thought it would, buried halfway to the hilt in his handler’s strong back as the man howled in pain. His back arched, pulling the blade from the Wolf’s grip as sense trickled back into his brain.

Oh god what had he done. What had he done? Why - why would he do that - ?

“You bitch.”

The next thing he knew he was on his back, his handler’s weight pinning him down and hands squeezing his already bruised throat. His own scrabbled futilely, nails scratching bloody trails up his handler’s arms and catching across his enraged face.

“You fucking - oh I’m gonna kill you. I’m going to kill you and then I’m gonna kill him - real slow - and I’ll tell him it’s all your fucking fault.” His handler lifted and slammed his head against the ground between his snarls for emphases.

The world was starting to loose color, the red of blood on pale skin turning black and gray. The Wolf’s body bucked against the weight of his handler, helpless, futile, weak, weak, weak -

His handler leaned in close, cheap cigarettes on his breath as his hands loosened just a fraction. The Wolf shuddered, the body on top of him grinding against his convulsing hips.

“One more rodeo, huh cowboy? I’m gonna miss your - ”

The Wolf’s hand reached over the handler’s shoulder and wrapped around the hilt of the blade, ripping it free. He slashed at his handler’s throat, and the world went red.

AU Masterpost / Previous / Next

(An AU of my Freelancers series)

#whump #dissociation #forced to choose #head injury #stabbed #knife wound #strangulation #pinned down #attempted noncon #implied noncon #past noncon #freelancers au #I like how I wrote the rise and fall of action in the structure of this au. here's the climax of Act I!#idk why this chapter was v cathartic for me <- [redacted]

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aussiepineapple1st · 1 year

Note

I had a request idea if it's still okay to submit them. A Chreon angst one.

Leon getting bitten while fighting a hoarde with Chris and he hides it from Chris as they try to escape where they are and get to the rendezvous point but it gets to the point where Leon can barely walk from the pain and Chris figures out what's wrong and sees the bite mark. He can't bring himself to shoot his lover despite Leon pleading with Chris to end it. to he watches Leon turns and is eventually forced to shoot Leon to survive and get back to his team.

Ooooh! I love this idea! Sorry it's very short!

Shoot Me!

Words: 1,089 Contains: Blood, Death, Infected Leon, Whump, Angst, Injury.

There were too many! Chris was on the other side of the enclosed space the two had found themselves in. How many more were going to come?! Leon felt his arms burning from all the physical defence he was doing. His gun clicking, having miscounted. Reaching for another magazine, nothing.

"Shit.." He said to himself as he slides his gun in the holster on his lower back. As he takes out the his knife a searing pain radiates from his right side. Growling in pain he stabs out of instinct, connecting his blade with the head of an infected, it's jaw lets go and Leon falls to the ground.

"CHRIS!!" Leon shouts, his tone alone made the taller male turn towards him instantly. It was full of pain, urgency and need of assistance. It made Chris' blood curdle. "I'm out!"

Chris shoots the last zombie on his side of the room and hurries over to take out the last 3 advancing on Leon. "You okay?" Chris asked, holding down a hand for Leon to take.

Leon doesn't answer as he knew he wasn't, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Chris he'd just been bitten. Taking his hand, Leon pulls himself up to his feet with help, wincing in pain as he holds his left hand to the wound on his right side. Chris watched the pained expression on Leon's face and he felt his heart stop, had he been bitten? No, Leon would tell him if he had, right? Maybe it was from when he was thrown by the BOW before?

As Chris started to walk away Leon puts a hand on Chris' shoulder, making him turn back to the shorter man. Leon grabs Chris' collar and pulls him into a kiss, pulling away and resting his forehead on the vest of his lover.

"What was that for?" Chris was confused, Leon would never show affection on a mission. It sent a warning straight to his brain.

Leon pulls himself away from Chris and starts to walk towards the exit they were so close to before being ambushed. "Let's get to the Rendezvous Point."

That sent even more warning signals to his brain, Leon hadn't answered if he was okay, then he kissed him without answering him once again. Chris jogs to close the gap between them both and walks on Leon's left side.

Exiting the facility they head for the gates, Chris would keep looking to Leon, his face was scrunched, and he was holding his right side. but asking him if he was injured was fruitless. "What do you think?" Would be the answer he would get. Making it to the gate they had smashed through with a jeep Chris steps passed the fencing, hearing the clashing of metal on metal. He turns to see Leon leaning against the bent pole, trying it's best to hold up the fencing laying on the ground.

Panting heavily, Leon's head was hanging low, his hair covering his face. "Come on Leon, we're almost there." Chris says walking over to his partner he takes his left arm that was holding his side and slings it around his shoulders.

"I can't..." Leon grunts out, a groan of pain followed as he starts walking beside Chris, their sides pressed up against each other.

"Yes, you can. You have to." Chris says helping his love walk towards the Rendezvous Point. Resting his hand on Leon's side he felt his glove start to soak up something almost instantly, lifting his hand away he looks to his hand seeing blood. "Shit! Leon you should have said something!" He panics and starts to pic up the pace.

Leon does his best to walk when a shooting pain shot through his entire body. "AH!!" He drops like a sack of potatoes to the ground as he slips from Chris' hold.

Kneeling beside his love he searched his body, Chris' heart was racing, almost pounding out of his chest as Leon drops from his hands and knees to his back. "Leon!!" He reaches for his face and gently holds his cheeks in each of his gloved hands. "You have to keep going! We're almost there!" He starts to pull up Leon's shirt to have a look at how bad the wound was. "We can get you out of here and to a Hos-" He cuts himself off as he see the bite wound on his side.

"No..." He reaches down to take Leon's hand in his own. "You're going to be okay.."

"Shoot me.."

"What? No!"

"Chris..." Leon says turning his head slightly towards Chris. "I can feel it taking hold... Shoot..." He grits his teeth. "ME!"

Leon pulls his hand from Chris' and rolls to his left side shouting in pain, clutching at his chest. A hand grabbing at the dirt he was laying on. "SHOOT ME!!"

Chris couldn't do anything. Standing to his feet, he pulls out the handgun in the holster on the side of his right leg. Aiming the gun at Leon writhing on the ground, his hand shakes, tears streaming down his face as sobs leave his quivering lips. "I can't!" He sobbed out.

Leon huffs and grunts out growls as he gets onto his knees. Chris steps back again, his gun still aimed at Leon's head. Leon turns to Chris, his own tears running down his face as he tries holding on as long as he could. "I love you." Was the last thing he squeezed from his voice box before his eyes widen, crazy and wild.

Leon lunges at Chris who pulls the trigger, shooting Leon in the forehead. Dropping his gun as Leon's body crumples to the ground at his feet, Chris falls to his knees. Gathering the dead body of his love in his arms. "NOOO!!! LEON!!" He shouts in agony, his heart breaking into a million pieces as he cradles Leon's head against his chest. "I'm Sorry!!" He cries into the top of Leon's head, his right hand tangled in the light brown hair of the man he loved more than life itself.

Sitting on the ground mourning his loss, he eventually gathered everything, lifting Leon into his arms and crying his body to the Rendezvous Point. The Helicopter waiting for him starts as the pilot sees him approaching. Stepping up into the helicopter he keeps Leon in his arms, not ready to let him go yet. He wasn't able to stop the tears from leaving his eyes as they take to the sky.

"I love you too.."

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

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letstrywritingmaybe · 9 months

Text

It’s What You and I Do

Thanks to the lovely and amazingly talented @vordark for the inspiration and the motivation for this short fic. I am obsessed with the art, so everyone needs to go look at it here! Now onto the fic (under the cut and also on ao3) <3

"You told me you loved me."

“Yes.”

"While you thought I was dying in your arms."

“Yes.”

"Well, I'm still alive. Care to repeat that?"

She enjoys seeing the pink dust his cheeks, his flustered expression as he takes in her words. Her tone is teasing and light hearted, which is just like her after experiencing a life or death situation.

She watches as his reddening features creep to the tips of his ears, his nervous fidgets as he tries to stammer out a coherent response. She graciously decides to end his misery, taking a step back as is in her nature when it comes to him.

“I’m kidding, I know you didn’t mean it that way.”

She gives him an out as always, deflecting behind lies, taking back her advances. She’s a scientist at heart, testing her experiments then observing as they react. This is no different. At least, that’s what she keeps trying to remind herself.

She’s long gone by the time his brain catches up to him, the opportunity to double down on his confession slips out of his reach. He draws out a heavy sigh, his hand resting over his beating heart as he wills it to calm down.

He doesn't have the excuse of adrenaline pumping forcing him to acknowledge his feelings. The sheer panic rising within at the possibility of losing her. His shaking form as he holds her close in his arms, the words slipping out so organically as if he meant to say them all along.

But he didn’t. It wasn’t intentional. He wasn’t even sure she heard him. Evidently, she did.

He clenches his fist, looking towards the direction she disappeared to. He knows now, it wasn’t a fluke. An accidental slip of the tongue.

He was on the verge of spilling out those same three words again, when he saw her mischievous smile. The amusement behind her lively eyes, no doubt enjoying his struggles to appear unaffected by her taunts.

His breath leaves his body when he feels her draw near, backing him into a corner to face the consequences of his admission. One that will forever change their dynamic, all he needs to do is speak those damn words aloud.

He doesn’t get the chance, she backs out as she always does when they’re caught in the flames. Squashing away the barely lit fuse before they’re set ablaze, leading them back to safety.

It’s what she does best. One step forward, two steps back. It’s the only way to keep the peace, protecting them both from getting too close.

He’s tired of this routine, enough is enough. Next time, he’s determined to tell her next time.

She wants to wipe the smirk off his face, she has half a mind to punch his stupid face. If she could manage to hit him without damaging him more, she would absolutely send an uppercut his way.

“You told me you loved me.”

His grin grows wider, he knows he’s got her now. So much so, the only thing she can do is keep her mouth shut. Even though she was midway through reprimanding him, for his reckless behavior.

Maybe he’ll pass out from the pain of his injuries if she just ignores him. He presses forward, which only further irritates her.

“While you thought I was dying in your arms.”

She knows he’s enjoying the way the tables have turned. She needs to come up with a quick remark, lest he gets it into his head that she actually means it.

“Well, I’m still alive. Care to repeat that?”

“You must've hit your head too K-Kudo-kun... C-cause I would never said such thing... "

The way her words trail off does not help her case, especially when she cannot muster the courage to meet his eyes. Her heart is hammering in her chest, she feels her cheek getting hot.

She chances a glance in his direction, she expects to see his arrogant stare, instead she sees his softened expression. His tender gaze breaking down her walls.

Her breath catches when he dares to close their distance, his hand reaching up to hold her chin keeping her eyes locked on his.

“I know what I heard back then, Shiho. I just want you to say it again..."

Her head spins trying in vain to come up with a witty reply. Her arsenal of comebacks are empty, she can only try and convince him it was all but a prank.

“I don’t…”

“I love you too, Shiho.”

The weight of his words, spoken with such conviction, has her at a complete loss. She cannot believe her ears, did he really just? No, it can’t be.

“I love you. I’m alive and I’m repeating it. I love you, Miyano Shiho.”

Her body trembles as she struggles to keep herself together. She never thought she would ever hear those words directed at her, especially from Kudo Shinichi.

The first time he said them, she thought it was a figment of her imagination. Of course her dying wish would be hoping he reciprocates her feelings.

She was hopped up on too many painkillers, when she woke up in the hospital bed with him by her side. It wasn’t until she was discharged with a bill of health, that she’s able to reflect on what she thought were her final moments.

She was so embarrassed with herself over her silly hallucinations, she thought she made the whole interaction up. Until she starts to notice Kudo acting differently around her.

Piecing together her memories, she comes to the conclusion that maybe he did accidentally confess. The realization sends her heart soaring, but only for a second. She quickly reasons it as a blunder, he probably meant it in a platonic way. There’s no need to hold him to it.

Still, she can’t help blushing when she thinks back to that moment. This will only cause her trouble, if she keeps deluding herself into believing he could actually feel the same way.

In a bid to crush her hopes, she decides to casually bring it up in front of him and see how he reacts. He gets flustered as expected, all she needs now is for him to admit it was a mistake.

She takes the easy way out, stopping him from breaking her heart, running away before he gets the chance to clarify his intentions. She’s a coward, but at least now she knows he doesn’t feel the same.

Except he does, and he’s standing in front of her telling her as such. She knows he’s waiting for a response, looking at her expectedly.

“I…”

They’re interrupted by a swarm of reporters who appeared out of nowhere, hounding them for answers, effectively ruining the moment. He lets out a frustrated groan, making her laugh.

He shoots her a glare, letting her know that she’s not off the hook yet. He intends on finishing this conversation when they’re alone again.

She smiles, giving him a nod as she works to keep the flashing cameras at bay.

Next time. Enough is enough. No more running away.

#CoAi #shinshi #it’s what you and I do #vordark collab <3 #clearly I’ve still got everlark on the brain #prompt is from @creativepromptsforwriting which you can see from the link to the art!#again this would not have happened so quickly without @vordark thank you so much Love!#your art makes my day whenever I see it and I’m so so happy you sail the CoAi ship #we are so lucky to have you! I love you lots!

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tanushakyrano · 1 year

Text

febuwhump day 23: 'you'll have to go through me.'

this leads directly on from yesterday's prompt! sorry about the cliffhanger lmao

characters: Virgil, Alan

additional warnings: violence, blood, injury, guns + knives

___________

There's a moment when Virgil thinks this is it.

There is a man, and he has a gun pointed at his little brother's head. Virgil doesn't know who he is, why he set the trap for them, what his motives are beyond putting both of them in the ground. He doesn't know the name of the man who shot him in the shoulder not thirty seconds ago, and it really pisses him off.

Of course, the depth of that anger is nothing compared to the bottomless chasm of fear and panic and terror he feels as the man casually moves his finger onto the trigger.

Virgil is too far away. Even if he started running that instant - even if he'd started running as soon as the guy had pointed that stupid gun at Alan - he'd never make it in time. It's a matter of relative distances, the length of corridor between Virgil and the man and the distance between his finger and the trigger, and there are additional factors such as the bullet that's nestled itself against his collarbone and the despicable laziness of this assassin that means he's taking an age to actually put his finger on the trigger, but ultimately it boils down to this: Virgil cannot save him. He cannot save his brother from this. There is nothing he can do except watch in abject horror as-

He fires.

Alan jerks back violently, and Virgil's mind is so tangled in a thousand different emotions that for a second he doesn't register that there is no gunshot and no blood and the movement is a flinch rather than the recoil from the impact of a bullet. Virgil sags in relief.

Their adversary, however, simply looks mildly disappointed. He gives the gun a once-over, clucking his tongue as the chamber turns out to be empty. "Shame," he murmurs. "I'd hoped to get this over with quickly." He doesn't seem to care that Virgil and Alan can both hear him. "No matter."

His hand twitches towards a knife in a scabbard that had previously gone unnoticed, and that's when Virgil sees red.

"Don't you dare."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're not laying a hand on my brother." Pain lends an additional edge to Virgil's words, each syllable biting like steel. His feet drag slightly along the floor as he steps forward. "I swear to you, I will die before I let you touch him."

"Big threats for a boy who's bleeding out."

Virgil laughs. He actually laughs. "This? This is nothing. I've survived much, much worse."

For a split second, the man almost seems to lose his composure. A twitch of a facial muscle, nothing more, but it's there. It gives Virgil a little hope that maybe both he and Alan can make it out of this one alive.

"I'm going to gut your brother like a fish, Tracy."

Virgil breaks into a run and closes the distance between them in moments, launching himself at the man and tackling him into the ground.

They hit the floor hard. Virgil's stayed on top, though, and the man takes the full force of the impact. The knife is in the assassin's hand, but Virgil grabs the hilt and now he's embroiled in the most dangerous tug of war of his life. Spittle sprays across his face. There's yelling. It sounds an awful lot like his own voice. The man's trying to push the blade at him, trying to cut through his flesh. Virgil pushes back. He isn't in the mood to suffer a second penetrating wound today.

Virgil can't quite think straight. It's the adrenaline, or the beginnings of the effects of blood loss - likely a worrying combination of both. He's so focused on keeping the blade away from him that when there's a choking gasp and a sudden lack of resistance from the man he's grappling with, it takes a second for the information to reach his brain.

He scrambles clumsily away, out of the tangle of limbs on the floor of an abandoned building in the middle of Nothingsville, Neverwhere. There's blood on the lino.

Some of it's his.

Some of it's not.

Alan's eyes are wide as he inches out of his hiding spot. He moves, crouched, to Virgil's side, not taking his eyes off the man on the ground as he lies there, unmoving.

"Virgil…"

"I didn't mean to."

The words tumble from his mouth. It sort of hits him all at once that there's a knife sticking out of the guy's stomach and Virgil put it there.

The worst part is that he knows - without a doubt that - he'd do it all again to save Alan.

#thunderbirds are go #cora writes #alan tracy #virgil tracy #whump #febuwhump23 #tw injury #tw blood #tw violence #tw guns #tw knives

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kkrazy256 · 2 years

Note

26 and REMEDY

Oh man, Cal. You asked for this (like three months ago akjhfwlk im sorry it’s late). Please heed the content warnings.

26- “I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this.” - Remedy

Remedy and Pharma, an AU (not the canon outpost route)

Characters: Clone Medic Remedy, Clone Medic Pharma, Arc Trooper Drift (@calamity-aims 's oc)

CW: Graphic character death (injury descriptions, decapitation, forcing someone to kill you, medical drug use)

There are two brothers lying on the ground.

One is on his stomach, limbs twitching while his cybernetic spine lies sprawled next to him on the blood-smeared floors. The other is a few paces away, on his side in a growing pool of red from both his chest and missing hand.

And somehow, both their conditions are Remedy’s fault.

Because Pharma wouldn’t have cared to hurt Drift if Remedy hadn’t been here.

Because Remedy had shot Pharma.

None of them say anything. He can hear Drift’s shallow breaths, Pharma’s labored ones, and his own shaky attempts to remind himself that he still lives.

There’s no time to dwell on that. He needs to move.

He pushes himself up on his elbows with a wince, looking around. The metal slab of a table he had been tied down to is littered with tools and medical equipment. There has to be something.

The throbbing spreads from his knee to his hip with each small jostle. Just like when he had first attached the prosthetic over a year ago, Pharma hadn’t been gentle in its removal. He pushes through the growing burn until he finds what he’s looking for. He reads the label, and the familiar chemicals spark recognition. Something that would numb the pain, but not his mind.

Remedy presses the hypo against his thigh and hits the plunger without a single tremor in his hands. The relief is immediate, and he pilfers around for enough scrap metal to make a splint. He’d never been too familiar with prosthetics, and the last thing he wants right now is to puncture something and bleed out. Then they would all be in trouble.

He ties the pieces together with some tubing, pulling it tight and taut. As long as he can get off the table, it would do.

The breath is completely knocked out of him when he crashes to the floor with a grunt. That had seemed a lot easier in his brain. The blaster clatters onto the ground next to him, and he doesn’t like the way he flinches away from it.

There are two brothers lying on the ground.

Both bleeding out.

Because of him.

He pulls himself up using the table edge, grabbing as many medical supplies as he can carry before hobbling over.

“Ohhh doctor doctorrr, I think I’m hurt.” The words cling to him as he staggers closer. Pharma’s laugh is wet and dying, his words like a funeral tune. Remedy bites his lip and keeps moving. Each step becomes heavier, like hands clamped around his ankles to leave bloody prints.

“Kih’vod.”

He does stop then.

It’s said so simply. Not a hint of taunting, even though it must’ve been like pulling teeth to say. The accent is slightly off. Because he’d never liked using their language. Never liked talking to them. To any of them.

If Remedy dwells on it, if he really listens. He might even say, might even hope that there is a hint of sincerity in that single word Pharma spits out like bone dust on his tongue.

He stands between Pharma and Drift now. A shitty makeshift medkit in his hands. His leg trembles and he can hear the thigh plate of his armor clatter.

Pharma coughs again, wet and dying. Drift lets out a barely audible whine, the torn attachments on his back give a dull spark.

Remedy stands between Pharma and Drift.

He thinks, maybe in another world, maybe in another timeline, hell maybe even just one year ago,

He would’ve chosen Pharma.

Maybe that one word, no matter the circumstance, would’ve convinced his stupid stupid brain to turn his body around and sit himself down next to his ori’vod. It would’ve convinced him to pull out the medical supplies and save Pharma’s life. While Drift would’ve laid a few meters away and watched. And died.

Remedy sits himself down next to his kih’vod. He sets the medkit on the floor.

He works on saving Drift’s life.

“...Rem?” Drift murmurs, his cheek is pressed against the floor. It doesn’t look like he can move at all.

“I’m here, kid.” He whispers softly, “I’m here. Does it hurt?”

“I can’t feel anything.” His voice is steady, but Remedy can hear the fear in each syllable.

“So much for saving everyone.” Pharma sneers from where he lies, eyes blown wide with pain and his blood-painted lips curl up at some hidden joke.

Remedy clenches his jaw, surveying the damage. The cybernetics had been forcibly ripped off, skin and flesh angrily torn with the sole intention to hurt. Exposed wires spark and cracked prosthetic bits form sharp edges. The smell of blood iron mix with the burnt metal to form something truly noxious. By all logic, Drift shouldn’t have been able to stand, much less have the strength to swing the blade down on Pharma’s other arm.

“He doesn’t look so good.” Pharma coos, “maybe I could’ve helped. You know I can fix that, easily.”

Remedy spots the hypo-syringe next to Drift’s hand. The glowing purple remnants on the needle tip make his stomach turn. He spares Tarn’s corpse a glance. Fucking Nuke.

The frustration rolls deep in his core, and he works on stemming the blood flow while thoughts fly through his mind rapidly.

There’s not much information in any database on the effects and components of General Tarn’s special concoction of system boosters. The only note on file has always been: For Research Purposes Only. Do Not Use.

Powerful, addictive, and capable of utterly terrible things.

Such as making the user forget pain ever existed as an option, giving them an escape into a supercharged reality where anything is possible.

Such as giving an already powerful Force user the ability to tear through an entire battalion by himself, leaving not a single survivor.

Such as giving a dying man without a spine the boost he needed to stand and fight.

“Works wonders, doesn’t it?” Pharma is lying on his back now, staring at the ceiling, “the things that brute was able to do with it in his system. The research and data I was able to compile about it…they’re probably in the database here, right in that terminal.” He smiles again, “password protected though.”

But the composition of the drug is intense, often too much for most biological organs. They had theorized the General’s numerous cybernetic modifications help offset the worse symptoms, concentrating the Nuke there as fuel rather than poison.

Perhaps the boosters went straight to knitting Drift’s cybernetics back together instead of exploding his organs. That would be the optimistic route. Remedy doesn’t see any signs of organ failure so he will take any hint of good news at this point.

He’s more worried about Drift’s heart. The adrenaline and power of the Nuke had kept him alive, but the strain of it all is taking its toll. He keeps one hand over Drift’s pulse, frowning at the way it keeps skipping, slowing, then speeding up all in the same thirty seconds. They’d have to keep an eye on that if—when they get home.

He does what he can. He stops the bleeding, tapes off exposed wires, and solders some of the cracked metal back together so they wouldn’t stab accidentally. He doesn’t dare try to mess with the detached spine itself. Home. They have to get back to the medbay for backup.

“Okay…” He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing the gore and sweat, “you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Remedy. I,” Drift chokes on his words, “I didn’t want to take it. Fuck, it felt good and awful at the same time. I hate how it always feels good. I didn’t want—”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He cuts in, reaching out to press his palm into Drift’s slack hand, squeezing, “we can fix this when we get home. You didn’t fuck up, it’ll be okay.”

Drift’s fingers twitch, which is all he could manage. It’s more than enough for Remedy.

“I’m going to find a working communicator and contact the Guard. Just sit tight, kid.” He tells Drift, who snorts and mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “ain’t going anywhere.”

Then, he realizes it’s been quiet.

Remedy turns towards Pharma. His chest aches with how fast his heart beats.

But Pharma isn’t there, lying still and dead with eyes open and staring at the ceiling like he had expected.

He’s crawling away, leaving two wet trails of blood behind him. There is a single-minded determination in him, silent and completely focused on a single goal.

His remaining mechanical hand is outstretched, metal fingers mere centimeters away from the fallen blaster.

Remedy scrambles, dragging his injured leg in his frantic crawl to beat Pharma to it.

His hand wraps around the barrel just as Pharma tries to turn it towards himself.

They fight over it in silence save for muted grunts and growls. Neither of them wish to lose focus with words.

Pharma’s foot finds purchase and he slams it against the splint. Remedy feels the broken metal dig into his exposed knee and the spurt of slippery blood that follows. The cry that leaves his lips is wretched, and his leg slides against the blood. His glasses slip off and he hears them crack under their combined weight.

“Remedy?” Drift’s voice rings out, alarmed.

“Yeah, Remedy.” Pharma spits, yanking harder on the blaster, “save the day. You’re just so good at that, aren’t you?”

Remedy tightens his grip, angling it towards the ground. Pharma’s hurt much worse, he just needs to hold out longer.

It pays off. He can feel the tremor in Pharma’s hand, the rasping wetness in his heaving breaths, the blood dripping down his chin.

Remedy wrenches the blaster free, sliding it all the way across the room.

The howl Pharma lets out goes beyond angry. The blurry mess before him moves quickly, and only the roar of blades gives him enough warning to lift his hands, grabbing at the wrist. The transformed arm is so close to his face that he thinks it’s sheared some locks of hair. He can’t tell, he can’t see osik.

The desperate strength behind the chainsaw is immense. The blood beneath them soaks warm through the crevices of his armor. The blades press down heavily and Remedy’s arms shake to hold Pharma’s wrist at bay. The strength feels like a final stand.

“Why?!” Pharma screams, voicing cracking in ways that Remedy’s never heard from him before. He’s glad he can’t see his face. “Why can’t you just let me have even this? Why can’t you ever let me win?”

“Win?” He wishes his voice could be louder than a whisper to match Pharma’s cries. But everything just feels numb. He can barely hear the weapon’s scream.

“Win?” He repeats, the far-away feeling enveloping him. His grip tightens and he can hear the bones in Pharma’s wrist creak through the nothingness.

“You think that’s what it’s been about for me?” He says, voice growing in volume with each surreal word he utters.

“I don’t want to win, I never wanted this.” His vision blurs further with the help of the angry hot tears welling up. He looks around the room at each fuzzy outline of a person. At the dozens upon dozens of dead vode, collapsed like puppets with their strings cut. At General Tarn, who had been long dead before they had shown up. At Drift, who’s doing his best to keep all the pained whimpers in, and Remedy’s chest hurts, “I never wanted any of this.”

“The medical exam rankings on Kamino, the titles, the positions, you could’ve had it all, Pharma. I didn’t fucking care. I never did.”

He pushes back harder, leaning until he finds Pharma’s frenzied eyes.

They lock gazes.

“I just wanted an ori’vod.” The sentence breaks in his mouth like glass and he swallows every piece, feeling every cut deep within him.

The blades continue to whir but Pharma is silent.

Then he’s leaning his entire weight forward, pushing the blades closer. He’s near enough for Remedy to see his face from behind the weapon.

He’s smiling, but different from before. The cruel lines run deep like grooves carved into rocks from the years of hate washing over them. That is something that will never smooth over. Yet right now, this is the closest he’s looked to serene.

And Remedy thinks there has to still be a chance. There has to be a single ray of sunlight behind that never-ending eroding storm.

There has to be a way for him to still choose Pharma.

“You will always be the one I hate most, little brother,” Pharma says warmly.

Then, Pharma lets go.

The pressure on the chainsaw disappears completely.

The momentum of Remedy’s continuous push against the arm suddenly meets no opposition and the blades swing up and back towards Pharma.

It clicks with resistance for only a second before tearing through flesh muscle and bone like flimsi.

The spray of blood hits Remedy’s face and he doesn’t close his eyes in time. It burns something terrible and all he can see is a blurry world tinted red when he opens them again.

The wrist still in his death grip goes slack with the entire weight of the body

Something falls onto his lap with a heavy thud.

It bleeds through the crevices of his armor and he can feel it in his bones.

His hand twitches once and there’s a click. A metal latch opens up on the mechanical wrist and a commlink falls out into the pool of red.

He lets go of the arm.

He doesn’t look down at his lap.

Blood drips off his nose, his chin, off every strand of his clumping hair.

Plop plop plop

He reaches for the commlink, feeling around the warm liquid to find it.

His fingers graze against a hypo-syringe and he sees the purple glow emanating from the barrel.

For Research Purposes Only. Do Not Use.

Powerful, addictive, and capable of utterly terrible things.

Such as making an unstoppable Force user even more sadistic and horrible.

Such as saving the life of a vod, even though it will throw him back into the nightmare he has wanted to escape for so long.

Such as making the user forget pain ever existed as an option. Making nothing matter at all. Because the burn of the chemicals will replace any and every emotion, even if just for an hour.

Just for an hour. Not even an hour. He just needs a minute—

“Remedy?”

Drift’s voice makes him gasp and he inhales sharply.

The syringe is in his hand, hovering over the crook of his arm. His fingers are over the plunger.

“I can’t see you…could you,” He hears Drift swallow roughly, “could you come and sit by me?”

Remedy doesn’t move his body or his hand. The weight on his lap is heavy, and he doesn’t think he can move to let it fall.

Plop plop plop

“No.”

His fingers twitch.

No, you can’t see me like thi—

“—please don’t leave me here all alone, Rem.” Drift’s voice is small, “please.”

I just wanted an ori’vod.

The syringe falls back into the blood with a splash, and Remedy presses his bloody hands against his bloody eyes with a sob.

“I won’t, kih’vod. I’m sorry.” He grits his teeth until his trembling jaw hurts, “I’m so sorry.”

“...I know. I know, ori’vod. I’m sorry too.”

Remedy pulls his hands away, feeling the mix of blood and salt stain his face. He doesn’t think any amount of washing will make him feel clean again.

He fishes the commlink out of the blood, inputting the frequency he knows by heart. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak so he types the details and sends them to Fox. He drops the device back into the puddle after seeing a confirmation. He doesn’t read another word from the reply.

“Drift?” He listens to the way his voice echoes hollowly through the room. The enveloping numbness from before hadn’t left.

“...hmm?” Drift answers, sounding equally exhausted.

Remedy reaches down, hesitating before letting his hand rest of the weight on his lap. He runs his fingers through the strands of red and white hair, blinking the blood from his eyes.

Plop plop plop.

Goodbye, Pharma.

He pushes the head off his legs.

“We’re going home, kid.”

Good fucking christ.

#clone medic remedy #clone medic pharma #arc trooper drift #sw mine #tcw #star wars

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wicked-whump · 1 year

Text

Concussion

CW: What it says on the tin, vaguely implied past noncon

For @amonthofwhump Winter Whumperland, Day Eight: Head Injury

1.7k words

Maybe some day I'll come up with good titles, but today is not that day

Sebastian is not sure he can make his feet walk out that door.

His shift is over and his coworker has come to relieve him of his duty. The clock on the counter blinks at 12:00 AM. He needs to go to his apartment, but he doesn’t know if he can force himself to walk out that door.

Knox hasn’t shown up all night, which is better than he can say for others. But the moment he steps outside, all bets are off. Nothing can protect him.

It would be fine if it were day. If it were day, people would be milling about. People are his protection. But because it’s night, the streets are devoid of activity, and Knox is free to do as he likes.

He’s been standing there too long, staring out the window at the dark street. He’s already changed back into his hoodie, and he’s been procrastinating going outside. His coworker is looking at him weirdly. Heart hammering, he gives a half smile half grimace, and a small wave to his coworker, and steps into the cold night air. If something is going to happen, then it’ll happen, and nothing he can do will stop it. Might as well get it over with.

He’s already shaking, and he knows it has little to do with the cold. He forces himself to put one foot in front of the other, and it’s times like these he wishes he had a car. He wouldn’t need to worry so much. But instead, he’s left with sweaty palms and a pit in his stomach, waiting for disaster – for Knox – to strike.

Every step away from the restaurant heightens his nerves. Every step feels like another nail in his coffin. A few blocks down, far too late for him to turn back, he hears something behind him. Footsteps, he thinks. He doesn’t even bother to look, just breaks into a sprint immediately. The footsteps give chase, pounding on the cement behind him.

Panic bubbles up inside him, his breaths come in short quick bursts, and it’s useless, he knows it’s useless. Knox is faster than him, stronger than him, and any amount of running or fighting only delays the inevitable, only makes it drag on longer, but he can’t stop himself. He might as well ask his brain to stop sending electrical impulses, or his heart to stop beating. Which, he has.

Why doesn’t Knox tell him to stop fighting? He has everything he’ll ever need to make Sebastian do exactly what he wants. Knox just has to mention his friends, and they both know he’ll instantly do whatever is asked of him. So why? Does he like the chase? The struggle? Is Sebastian only giving him what he wants?

It doesn’t matter. Short of threatening his friends, Sebastian isn’t sure anything could get him to stop. He’d hate himself if he gave up, if he surrendered. He’d never forgive himself if he just let it happen.

The footsteps are growing closer, and with them, another agonizing night. His eyes dart back and forth, searching for a storefront with the lights on. There has to be something, are they the only 24/7 building on this whole street? They can’t be.

A hand grabs his arm and yanks him back. He stumbles and jerks his arm, slipping out of the grasp, but another hand catches the back of his hoodie. Something trips him and he pitches forward, the hand loses its grip on his hoodie, and he falls to the ground, pavement rushing up to meet him, and then

A sharp, stabbing pain courses through his head, and there’s a loud ringing in his ears. He grimaces at the ache. What happened? He’s tired, and he feels the urge to just keep his eyes closed and go back to sleep. He forces himself to squint up at the sky and immediately regrets it, blurry street lights sending a new pang through his eyes and head. He tries to sit up, but a wave of dizziness and nausea forces him back to the ground.

He’s laying in something wet and sticky. Blood, he realizes with alarm. He brings his hand up to his forehead, and his fingers come away coated in red. His blood. What the fuck?

What happened? Where is he? How long has he been out? Why is his head bleeding?

If the past is any indicator, he likely tripped and fell while running away from Knox.

So then where is Knox? He holds his head and pushes through the pain and nausea to shove himself upright, examining his surroundings through slightly blurry vision for any sign of him. He’s not in any pain besides his head, does that mean Knox left him alone? Why? His vulnerability while unconscious would have been the perfect time for him to– to do what he intended to do. Just drag his body into an alleyway and– yea. The thought of it happening while he’s unconscious intensifies his nausea and sends a shiver down his spine.

Maybe he should knock himself out more often.

He begins to laugh at the thought, but that just sends a new throb through his head. He sucks air in through his teeth, pressing his hand to his head harder.

Or is it possible Knox wasn’t chasing him, and he just…fell normally? He finds that hard to believe, though.

He stares around the empty street, examining the storefronts and trying to get his bearings. Once he’s figured out where he is, he tries to stand using the wall for support. Another wave of dizziness washes over him and he ends up leaning against the wall for a few minutes while he fights it off.

If he remembers correctly, there should be an emergency room not too far from here. He tries standing without the wall for a moment, which proves to be difficult, but not impossible. He can walk there, right? It’s not that far. At least, he thinks.

He begins slowly making his way down the street, still using the walls to prop him up and keep him walking in a straight line. The gaps between buildings take a toll, and he has to sit down a few times to let the nausea crest over him. Warm blood continually trickles down the side of his face, some of it dripping into his eyes. The crisp air feels good on his clammy skin.

What would have normally been a five minute walk turns into a twenty minute one, and by the time he arrives he’s out of breath and wondering if he shouldn’t have just called an ambulance. It’s too late now, though. He’s already stumbling through the automatic doors of the emergency room. And he’ll barely be able to afford whatever treatment he needs, much less the ride.

His stomach continues to churn, and the second he passes through the threshold he drops to his knees, grabs the trashcan by the door, and heaves into it, vomiting up the measly lunch he had.

After that, everything is a blur. The staff gets to him quickly, asking him questions that he finds he has difficulty answering. They determine he has a concussion and he receives two stitches. The injection of the anesthetic burns horribly, a fire under his skin, and he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better to just do the stitches without it.

They want to keep him overnight, which is fine by him. He’s not sure he could even make it out the door. Plus, though he knows the chances are low, he doesn’t want to risk running into Knox again.

A bone-deep fatigue has plagued him since he woke up on the ground. He’d love to doze off in this bed, but he’s not actually sure if he’d be allowed to do that with a concussion. Besides, he needs to figure out how to tell Emmett and Jess. It shouldn’t be too hard, just a quick text is fine, right?

Me Hey, so, funny story.

I have a concussion.

He hopes nobody is awake right now to see his message, he’d rather not have an active conversation right now.

No such luck.

Emmett what???

are you okay?

Me I’m fine.

Sitting in the ER right now.

Got two stitches.

Emmett holy shit

what happened?

Me Fell down.

Emmett okay but HOW did you fall down

Me Um.

I don’t actually remember.

This isn’t a lie, he genuinely doesn’t remember. He has a good guess, but Emmett doesn’t need to know what that guess is.

Emmett Should I come over?

…Two years ago, Emmett might have stated that he’s coming over, rather than posing it as a question. But things have changed in those two years. Sebastian has changed, and they aren’t as close as they used to be. This reminder makes his heart twist. He’s been pushing them away. And he’s not about to start pulling them any closer.

Me No, I’ll be okay

Thanks though.

It’s better this way. He has to keep reminding himself of that. The further apart they are, the less likely they’ll find anything out, the safer they’ll be.

Emmett okay

let us know if we can do anything

He can almost hear the feeling of rejection in those words, which just makes him feel worse.

It’s necessary, though. Nothing is more important to him than their safety, and if that means pushing them away then so be it.

He sighs and sets his phone down, leaning his head back against the reclined bed. His forehead is throbbing, he’s exhausted, and overall he just feels like shit, emotionally and physically. He lets himself close his eyes for a few minutes. If they don’t want him sleeping, then they can come and wake him up. For now, he intends to be unconscious for as long as he can get away with.

If you’ve read this far and enjoyed what I’ve written, please consider reblogging! It means a lot to artists :)

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #head injury #whump #whump writing #whump community #OC whump #whumpblr #concussion #implied past noncon #my writing #sebastian's story #sebastian

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 76: On Your Own Again

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: scary situation, blood and gore, injury, near-death experience, violence ❧ Word Count: 7.1k

❧ In This Chapter: Faced with the possibility that his wife is dead, Daryl goes AWOL in the hopes of finding her, dead or alive. Meanwhile, back in Alexandria, the youngest Dixon finds herself in danger when a Whisperer comes to terrorize the town.

❧ A/N: Don't talk to me for 300 years. I hate putting Daryl through the pain of thinking Reader is dead, but also I'm living for the angst. This is an interesting chapter in that technically Reader (aka you I guess lol) is not technically in it, but she kinda is? You'll see. Oh, and I love Robin and Dog. They're my favorite duo.

“No!” cried Aaron, his head in his hand as he knelt down on both knees before the rubble.

It was a big, grey mound of rock and debris, with swirling clouds of oppressive, thick dust invading all of his senses.

He couldn’t hear the sound of Aaron calling out to him, his voice shaky as he tried to hold back his tears. ��Daryl,” he said. “Daryl…”

He panted heavily, throwing back rocks and debris as he tried to dig into the rubble, nothing but the hope of finding you in the forefront of his mind. He grunted in frustration, or some other emotion Aaron couldn’t really decipher. All he knew was Daryl had flailed himself over the huge mound of rocks, desperately trying to find you in the rubble.

Maybe he would’ve been doing the same, but he knew in his heart of hearts that it was pointless, even if he wanted to believe his little sister was still alive somewhere down there. The chances were slim.

He sniffled and came closer, climbing further up to the mound to approach Daryl. “It’ll take us a week to clear this.”

Daryl groaned as he threw another rock away from the rubble, then turned to face Aaron. “Then help me!” he bellowed.

His eyes landed upon Kelly, the young woman crying in Jerry’s arms as she mourned the presumed loss of her own sister, Connie.

“We can’t!” she suddenly cried out as she stood on her own two feet. “This blast is gonna call walkers and Whisperers from a hundred miles from here!”

Daryl stood to his feet with a strained breath, feeling a thousand pressure points attacking every inch of his rattled brain. All he felt like doing was crying, but that wasn’t an option. At least, not yet.

“We don’t want our backs pressed up against this mountain when they come,” she continued through her cries. “We can’t save them if we’re dead.”

Daryl lowered his gaze and turned to Aaron, whose hand was held out to him. He looked up to him with eyes clouded by tears, his face strained and red as he tried to keep his cool in front of Daryl and the others, though Daryl knew that face, because it was your face, too.

So much of you was in Aaron, and Robin was in there, too. Crying, all of you. All of you were crying, and he couldn’t stop it. He’d failed you. He’d failed Robin, he’d failed Aaron, he’d failed Lydia.

He failed you.

“Come on, brother,” he said, gesturing further out to him.

He took Aaron’s hand, against every voice in his head telling him to keep digging, every voice in that irrational part of his mind that believed he could find you on his own, just by clearing that rubble. It couldn’t be done, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop trying to find a way.

As he stepped down, he made eye contact with Carol, and a sudden reminder that all of this had happened because of her came raining down on him like a monsoon.

He forced himself to move past her, pointing accusingly and straining his face as he tried not to break down in tears until he could get away, but Carol stopped him, grabbing him forcefully as she sobbed.

He pulled away, breathing heavily and glowering down at her as the lump in his throat threatened to break, and if he didn’t get out of there soon, he’d finally lose it.

Every nerve in his body strained to keep himself from hurting somebody, from yelling and screaming and throwing something or tearing himself apart, limb by limb, in his own agony. He’d do it, too, if it meant he didn’t have to live with the realization that his mind was slowly coming to as his composure came closer and closer to a breaking point.

“Go ahead and say it to me,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I deserve it.

He could only look at her, disappointed and beyond the capacity for anger when the tears started falling, his rage quickly settling into abject sadness.

His lips quivered as he chewed his bottom lip, trying desperately not to cry just yet. He couldn’t do such a thing, not now. It wasn’t a matter of appearing strong for the group, not anymore. He didn’t care, he hadn’t cared about that for a while now. He couldn’t cry in front of them because it was too personal, too much. There was too much history there, lost in that rubble.

“You were right about everything,” she sobbed. “Just say it.”

He had to leave then, pushing past her as the rage showed itself again. There was no reconciling the nerve she had to beg for him for anything now, not after what had happened, because of her and her need for vengeance.

She was right, was all he could hear his mind saying to himself. She was right.

You were right that Carol would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, that she’d get people hurt, or worse. He should’ve listened to you, he thought. He should’ve never thought he could help Carol, keep her from destroying herself and everyone else. He should’ve cared for you above all else, not her, not anything but you.

He threw up his arms in a rage as she tugged at him again, stopping him from leaving. “No, please,” she sobbed. “You loved her, and now she’s gone because of me. Please, just say it.”

He stared in disbelief now, watching her bring her hands to her forehead as she sobbed. “Please say it,” she repeated.

“Go home,” he said, walking past her and turning back around to look at Aaron, himself crying softly now. Daryl felt himself spiraling, unable to completely keep standing straight as he practically wobbled, both in speech and in posture. “Tell the others we found the horde.”

“Where you gonna be?” Aaron asked, watching his brother-in-law begin to turn and walk away.

“They got out before us,” he said shakily, his voice clearly breaking and filled with tears, and his tone something Aaron had truly never heard before from the usually stoic, composed man. He began to take a few shaky steps towards the brush, slightly stumbling over his own flimsy feet, barely able to hold up his bodyweight. “There’s gotta be another way in.”

“R-Robin,” Aaron replied quickly before Daryl could get away from view. “What about… Robin?”

Daryl swallowed hard, closing his eyes and continuing to stumble forward, unable to look back at Aaron. “I dunno,” he said through his tears as he cried. “I dunno.”

He stumbled through trees, grabbing onto the bark desperately as he tried to keep himself upright, but gravity had other plans, taking him down and allowing his weak, shaking body to hit the forest floor with a thud.

His own sobs and wails were beyond his own comprehension, his senses seeming to completely turn off in some kind of mechanism to shelter himself from the world that had most likely taken from him in one cruel fell swoop the person he promised he’d keep safe from the moment he met you, the person he loved above anything else, the person he couldn’t live without, and yet he still breathed.

Every breath was a cruel reminder that he had lived and you hadn’t, or at least, that wherever you were, if you were alive, you were hurt and scared and in danger.

He lay there in a fetal position, shaking and sobbing, then finding himself banging his head against his hands, though he couldn’t feel anything, no hurt as he slammed his head against the ground, yelling at the world and at himself.

“Not her,” he muttered, almost incoherently, since if anyone had happened to be in earshot, there was no way one could understand him through the immense flow of ragged tears and sobs overcoming him. “Not… her, n-not her. Not… ever… (Y/N).”

His eyes strained to open as his body rocked back and forth, and finally he seemed to be able to see where he was, his senses returning to him. He flipped himself over until he was on his back, and nothing but the canopy of the trees around him came into view.

His eyes glassy, his lips agape, and his face reddened and raw from tears, he silently begged to die, just for a moment. He had never wanted to die before, not even in this world. Really, he always thought it was weak to want to die, to prefer death over survival. It was a belief that you would scold him for, saying that everyone has a right to decide if they want to live or die, and that it doesn’t necessarily make one weak, but that was what he believed, and if it made him weak to think that way, then maybe he was.

He was weak for many reasons. He was weak for letting Carol walk all over him, for not keeping you next to him at all times, for thinking he could keep you safe.

So it didn’t matter now if he was weak because he wanted to die. He was always weak, and dying now seemed to be the only way he could live with what had happened.

It wouldn’t be what you would want, though.

It wouldn’t, and he knew that. What you’d want, if he could allow himself to think about it without bursting into tears again, was for him to live, to fight for your people, and to protect Robin. That was what he had to live for now, and even in realizing that, he needed to do what he wanted, too.

He needed to find you. That was what he needed to do, whether you were alive or not, in one piece or two, bent or broken. You and the others, too. If he didn’t try, he’d never forgive himself.

So he moved, rising to his feet and using whatever sense of direction he could conjure up in this state to go towards the entrance, where Carol had led you all to the mine in the first place.

There he found Alpha, leading the horde behind her as they began to trudge out from the mouth of the cave.

He followed them, and made his move when he threw his knife into one of the Whisperers, alerting Alpha and the other couple of Whisperers with her to his presence.

Staying behind the trees, he watched as Alpha and the Whisperers separated from the herd, looking around to find the source of the knife.

He came up behind one of them, stabbing them in the head and then kicking Alpha’s knife from her hands before slitting the throat of the other one.

Alpha moved quickly as he turned around, slashing his face and catching him off-guard, causing him to double over as the blood clouded his vision.

He moved jaggedly, searching through the red to find a large stick, then using it to wack Alpha across the face, sending her to the ground where he launched the stick into her shoulder, eliciting a sharp scream of pain.

“Where are they?!” he bellowed, driving the stick further into her flesh when she said nothing. “Tell me!”

Daryl turned to see the herd coming closer, now threatening to overtake him if he didn’t wipe them out.

Still seeing red, he swung the stick wildly, essentially guessing and hoping he was striking their heads as he turned.

But moments later, Alpha had come up behind him, slashing at him with her knife, and eventually plunging it into his thigh.

“Agh!” he cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, and struggled to pull himself up.

Still, he did, limping his way to a nearby gas station, or what remained of it.

The frame of the building was barely clinging to life, but it was enough for him to shelter in for a moment’s peace, and to assess the severity of his wounds.

He threw his body down beside an old workbench inside the auto shop, leaning against it and panting from exhaustion.

He rubbed at his eyes, clearing the blood from his vision so he could see, though all he could really see still was more blood, seeping from the wound in his thigh.

The knife was still lodged deep in his flesh, as he couldn’t remove it for fear of bleeding out, since surely it struck a major artery, but even so, he was bleeding, and there wouldn’t be much life left in him if he didn’t get back to Alexandria soon.

There wasn’t any time to rest, though, not with his injuries, and not with Alpha chasing after him.

She followed him, sitting herself down on the other side of the auto shop, against a wall, lazily banging her gun against it, calling over the walkers who had followed her.

They didn’t attack Alpha, her mask allowing her to go unnoticed, but the blood from Daryl’s wounds was attracting the three skeletal walkers like moths to a flame.

He mustered all his strength to reach an old fire extinguisher, brandishing it wildly to strike the first walker in the head. The second he was able to strike with a crowbar, but the third came down on him fast, before he could find another weapon.

The knife in his thigh seemed to be his only ticket out, both out of this situation, and most likely, out of this strange, cruel world.

He didn’t waste another second of hesitation, yanking the blade from his flesh and allowing a giant spurt of blood to gush from the wound before he stabbed the walker in the skull.

He’d never seen so much blood in his life, he was sure. He reached both hands down to press on the wound, but the blood seeped through his fingers and soaked through his jeans.

Hours passed, two or three, he couldn’t quite tell, but now it was dark, and he had been in and out of consciousness from blood loss.

Death was coming, and he knew it. The only consolation was that Alpha was dying, too, still bleeding against that wall on the other side of the decrepit building.

He couldn’t see her, him now strewn out on the floor behind the workbench, but he knew she was there, her breathing shallow and her life hanging from a thread just like his.

Daryl didn’t fear death. He feared lots of other things. He feared the deaths of those he cared about, and he had already faced that today. He’d faced his greatest fear, one he’d faced before, but not with such reality as what had happened today.

Today, you died. Maybe you didn’t, but maybe you did, and with you went his right mind. If he died right now, as he knew he was going to, in this dark, dusty old shell of a building, he’d at least know he died trying to find you.

If Heaven were real, as he used to believe when he was a little boy, before his mother died, then you were there, waiting for him.

As he laid there, his breath becoming more and more labored, wheezing from the struggle to keep himself alive, he felt something send a quick jolt through his body.

If he’d ever been electrocuted, he would’ve compared it to that.

His eyes blinked rapidly, focusing on the starting point of the electricity—his hand, now being held by another as a presence formed beside him.

At first it was an outline, almost like a constellation, each point of light connecting in flickers of increasingly bright beams until some apparition appeared, cloudy and almost transparent, but it was an image of you.

I’m dead, he thought. I��m dying.

“No,” the apparition spoke, in your voice, sweet and lilted as it had always been.

His eyes focused on you, his vision still blotched with blood but clear enough to notice you were wearing a dress he hadn’t seen in years—one he swore he made you leave behind at the quarry to make room for essentials on the road to the CDC.

You looked younger, too, though you hadn’t aged much anyway, at least not to him. Your hair was cut different, shorter and draped differently around your face.

You looked just like you had when he first met you, he soon realized.

“(Y/N),” he muttered, the wheezing in his voice shadowing the vowels as he spoke.

You smiled softly and knelt beside him now, reaching forward to touch his cheek in an attempt to wipe the blood away.

“I’m here,” you said. The tickle of your fingertips upon his cheek was so familiar, and felt so real that he couldn’t believe you weren’t really there, but it was impossible.

“H-how… How did… you get here?”

“You brought me here,” you said. “I’m always here, with you… I love you.”

He swallowed the blood accumulating at the back of his throat, metallic in taste and thick in texture, but insignificant compared to the feeling of immense sadness that overwhelmed him, his lips quivering and his eyes blinking rapidly as tears began to fall.

“I love… y-you too,” he stuttered and wheezed. “I’m s-so sorry.”

The image of you frowned and tilted your head as you stroked his cheek to catch the tears. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m right here.”

“N-no… The cave. You’re in—in the cave. I lost ya… I—I failed ya. I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“Stop it,” you said, speaking more sternly now. “You could never fail me. Not even if you tried. You know that.” You sat up straight now, looking down at him with sharp, intent eyes. “Now, you listen to me.”

He knew now that you were a figment of his imagination, not an angel as he had thought. The way you spoke, in that tone, wasn’t like anything he’d ever heard before, not even when you were mad at him. It was almost his own voice, speaking to him through you.

When you told him all those years ago that you saw him, hallucinated him in your insomniac visions as he was held at the Sanctuary, he knew this was what he was experiencing, too, except it was because he was near death.

“You’re not dying,” the image of you said. “Not today, not tomorrow. There’s too much to be done, too many people to save.”

He rocked his head back and forth in a stupor, feeling himself lose consciousness as he wheezed out a few words. “Wh-what… do I… do… angel?”

You smiled sweetly again, and leaned down to kiss his forehead, just above the wound inflicted upon him by Alpha, though the featherlight kiss did not hurt.

“First,” you said, returning to that stern, instructive tone, “you get home. You keep our baby girl safe. She needs you… She needs her father. She’s strong, but she’s scared.”

You held his hand again, cradling it in between your own, and placing it upon your heart. His hazy eyes darted up to you, now feeling the intense beating in your chest, indicating that you were alive. At least, the image was alive.

“You do whatever it takes to protect her, like you promised me… when I was pregnant. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

He wheezed out a deep breath, the strain stinging his lungs as they labored to fill with air. “I w-will,” he stuttered. “B-but I… I need y-you. I c-can’t… do it… without… you.”

“Yes, you can,” you said. “You will. You have to.”

His breath hitched and he coughed up more blood into his throat before he could speak again through a scratchy, strained voice.

“I—I promised… I said I’d never let nothin’... happen to you.” He mustered every ounce of strength to clench his hand around yours, the warmth of which sent strange shivers through him. Whatever you were, it wasn’t human. “Said you wouldn’t get hurt.” His voice broke again, shaking and sputtering through his sobs. “If you’re gone… I wanna be… with you. I w-wanna… go… be with you. Can’t live… without… you. Without you… I’m… afraid.”

Your image frowned and began to cry, wiping away your own tears and shaking your head vehemently. “Stop it,” you said. “Whether I’m dead or alive, I am with you. You know where I am. You need to be brave for me, Daryl. You need to fight for me. This isn’t the end, or maybe it is, but it’s also the beginning. That’s how it’s always been, since we met. Things end, and something else begins. It’s simple… Everything is so simple, if only you’d let it be simple.”

He shook his head, straining himself to reach his hand up and tangle his hand in your hair, with its familiar texture and softness cascading over his skin.

“I need to—to f-find you,” he said.

“You will,” you replied, taking his hand from your hair and kissing his palm. “Or I’ll find you. One way or another, we’ll be together again. You just have to hang on, can you do that, honey? For me?”

“I’d do… anythin’… for you… (Y/N). You’re my angel.”

You leaned forward to graze your hand over his forehead, brushing back his hair and twirling a strand of dark caramel between your fingers.

“I’ll always be yours,” you said. “Beginning to end, and whatever comes after.”

Just as you were about to lean down to kiss him, your eyes darted up, looking off at a new presence approaching Daryl.

“Lydia,” you said, and turned back down to smile at Daryl, wheezing and blinking in and out of consciousness now as your image slowly began to fade, as if made of thousands of tiny pixels, scattering about with each footstep of the young girl as she came forward.

The last thing he remembered was feeling your hand holding his cheek, and watching you dissipate before him.

“Don’t ever be afraid,” you said to him, and he wasn’t entirely sure if you disappeared before or after he blacked out, but one thing was for sure—you were gone.

Back in Alexandria, trouble was afoot, and those inside the walls were not to be spared from the wrath of the Whisperers.

The town was on lockdown after the Whisperer Aaron knew, Mary, came to the gates with information. She had told Gabriel that your group was in trouble, trapped inside the cave where Alpha had moved her horde.

Though there was some resistance to trusting the Whisperer, who had been placed inside the cell until further notice, Gabriel led a rescue party just before nightfall, and others at the guard towers and the gates were preparing for part of Alpha’s horde to come through any minute.

Night fell heavily over the sleepy settlement, all those who had stayed behind hunkered down in their homes, watching, waiting.

In your home, the youngest Dixon was being looked after by Emily in Rosita’s stead, as she had been positioned at gate duty.

The sixteen-year-old had taken a shine to Robin in the last few years, often volunteering to babysit on Friday nights when you and Daryl allotted yourselves the time for “date night,” if such a thing could be had in a post-apocalyptic landscape.

Usually, Robin would have stayed at Emily’s house, or with Aaron and Gracie for the night, while her parents had the house to themselves, but tonight felt odd, and a strangeness lingered in the young girl’s heart as it suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know where her parents were.

All she knew was that they’d left the day before, assuring Robin they’d be back by tomorrow, hopefully with Lydia, the outcast who had quickly turned into one of Robin’s best friends, but that was a day ago, and she had begun to worry.

Sitting upon the porch swing, rocking back and forth as she held tightly to her bunny, she eyed the north gate that was just barely visible from her house. She had snuck out of bed just a while earlier, passing her parents’ room where Emily slept with delicate tiptoes. It was lucky that Emily never really figured out how to set up Daryl’s intricate door alarm system, despite his earnest attempts to teach her. Otherwise, Robin wouldn’t have been able to sneak out to wait for her parents’ arrival through those familiar old gates.

Still, Emily seemed to catch on to Robin’s movements.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, pushing the front door open and sitting herself down beside the girl.

Robin looked wide-eyed at the teenager, hoping she wouldn’t get in trouble for her disobedience. She’d never snuck out before, or even tried to, but in her desperation to see her parents again, she had no other choice.

“I’m sorry,” she immediately peeped in her soft, girlish voice, slightly quivering in a melody of sadness and guilt. “I—I wanted to see… I wanted to see them.”

Emily smirked and nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. I get it.”

The two young girls were silent for a while, looking out towards the fence and watching Rosita, Laura, and some of the other guards at their posts.

“We should go inside,” Emily said. “We’re supposed to be on lockdown. If your dad knew you were out here right now, he’d kick my butt.”

Robin mustered a sad smile as she looked down at her feet, just too short to touch the wood planks of the porch and wrapped up in sherpa-lined white bunny slippers that matched her own beloved stuffed animal.

“Can you tuck me in again?” she asked.

Emily stood up and held out her hand to the child. “Sure,” she said. “Come on.”

The two walked back inside and up the stairs towards Robin’s bedroom, where her nightlight was the only thing faintly glimmering in the darkness that had settled there.

Robin watched intently as Emily pulled her covers over her, then began gently smoothing out the fabric of her duvet before straightening back up.

“Goodnight, Robin,” she said, but quickly noticed the slightly dissatisfied look upon the girl’s face. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing, it’s just… Well, Daddy always squishes me.”

Emily raised her eyebrows and smiled in amusement. “Squishes you?”

“He makes sure it’s all tight n’ stuff.” Robin gestured to her duvet, pointing her hands and making tucking motions around her body. “You know.”

“Oh,” she replied in understanding. “He really tucks you in, huh? Squishes you?”

Robin smiled. “Yep. He says it makes you ‘snug as a bug in a rug.’”

“Okay, I’ll ‘squish’ you.”

Robin wiggled under her loose sheets, and prepared to be “snug” before Emily came forward to tuck the several layers of blankets on her bed under her until her body was roughly outlined from the outside. She was, certainly, snug.

“There,” sighed Emily. “That better?”

Robin nodded with another sad smile. She tried to hide how much she missed you and Daryl, but it was hard to keep such strong emotions bottled up, she was realizing.

“I miss them,” she said. “Do you… think they’ll come back?”

Emily tilted her head. “Of course they’re coming back. Why wouldn’t they?”

A question the older girl knew the answer to, but she didn’t want to put any ideas into the younger girl’s head. Little did she know, they were already there.

“If they… died…” She held back some tears, sniffling as she did so. “Then they couldn’t come back.”

“Hey,” replied Emily, “that’s not going to happen, okay? I’m sure they’re on their way back right now, your mom, your dad, Uncle Aaron and Aunt Carol—”

“But the rescue team,” Robin blurted out. “Gabriel sent them to find them, and what if they don’t find them? What if… what if they find ‘em, and they’re—”

“Robin,” interrupted Emily, stopping her before she got back into that habit of asking ‘what if’s,’ “you can’t think like that.” Emily shook her head, unsure of how to tell the little girl that her fears were justified, but that she must still refrain from jumping to conclusions. “Your parents are fine. They know what they’re doing out there. The rescue team is just… a precaution. Now, I want you to get some sleep, okay? When your mom and dad come back, I don’t want you telling them I let you stay up all night or something, okay?”

“Okay,” replied Robin, snuggling into her pillow. “Goodnight, Emily.”

Just as she began to close the door behind her, Dog bolted into the room, jumping up onto Robin’s bed and snuggling into the crook of her legs, where Robin reached down to pet him.

“Goodnight, Robin… and Dog.”

Perhaps she got her tendency for insomnia from you, since sleep did not come that night.

Robin laid in her bed, soft as a cloud and warm enough to kindle a pleasant flame in her heart, but the reminder of what was outside those walls, those monsters that could rip her mother and father apart with the gnashing of their rotten teeth, kept her in the most uncomfortable limbo between sleep and consciousness.

Still, she tried—keeping her eyes shut to physically lull herself to sleep despite her fears of seeing her parents, turned into monsters themselves, everytime she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t until the trick seemed to be working when her eyes shot open, alerted immediately to the quiet creak of the front door opening, and heavy footsteps following, and getting closer as they approached the base of the staircase.

Robin gasped, throwing the covers from her body and immediately pushing her feet into her slippers.

Dog rose, too, just moments before her, though he didn’t have the same reaction he usually did when you and Daryl came home.

He was at Robin’s door, growling lowly as he tried poking his snout under the wood paneled door.

“Dog,” she whispered softly, calling him over to her so she could get to the doorknob, but he wouldn’t budge, frustrating the little girl who only wanted to see her parents. “Stop it.”

But the canine’s behavior wasn’t normal, not in the slightest. If he’d have smelled you or Daryl, or even Lydia, he would've been pawing at the doorknob, begging to be let out to greet his other humans.

No, he was scared, now moving away from the door as the steps got closer, climbing the stairs with feet of lead that tried to be as soft as possible.

Dog rushed to Robin, planting himself in front of her on all fours and allowing his fur to rise and his teeth to bare in defense, and fear of the unknown, intimidating presence in his home, threatening his naive little human.

“That’s Daddy,” she whispered. “Silly boy.”

Still, she second-guessed herself, speaking in a quivering voice as she began to realize her father’s steps were nowhere near as heavy, and his presence was always instinctually calming to her, ever since she was an infant.

This lumbering creature ascending the staircase was not her father, and most certainly not her mother, whose soft, nimble steps were almost fairylike, dainty and even whimsical in their demeanor.

No, this wasn’t you, or Daryl, or even her uncle. No one in Alexandria who’d had any right to be in your home moved like this, with a threat in each step as he crossed the second floor landing and pushed open the door of your bedroom, slightly ajar as Emily slept soundly upon the luxurious king-sized bed, with the extra soft mattress and various supportive mattress toppers you piled on to ease Daryl’s back at night.

Robin quickly tiptoed to the door, slowly and silently turning the knob until she could pull back the door and peek through the sliver into the hallway, where a man of enormous stature faded into the darkness of her parents’ bedroom.

Her blue eyes widened as she stepped back, terrified and unsure of what to do. The man in her house was clearly not her father, and if Emily’s short scream of terror was anything to go by, he was dangerous.

Dog whimpered but stayed beside his young mistress, following her as she shuffled frightfully into her closet, and gently slid the door closed before tucking herself into the built-in compartment her father had installed before she was born.

Little did she know, she’d been there before, as a baby, hidden from an intruder not unlike this one.

The only difference was, she didn’t have a dog with her then.

The canine bared his teeth and growled from inside the closet as the giant man’s steps got closer and closer, and soon Robin could tell he was in her room, pulling back the covers on her bed to see if anyone was there.

Dog broke out into a threatening bark when the man came closer, pulling out his huge knife and holding it up in preparation to kill the animal, who sprung into action the moment the closet door slid open.

He leaped from his hind legs, tackling the man and attempting to bite his neck, but the man was stronger than the canine, pushing him off with such strength that Dog let out a sharp whimper.

Robin covered her mouth and panicked, both terrified of the man and of what he had done to her dog.

Realizing she was on her own, and that her dog needed her help, she recalled that you had stored her spear in her closet, instructing her not to use it unless under adult supervision.

Well, in some way, she supposed, she now had adult supervision.

Now, it was a matter of getting to the spear before the man got to her, though when he inspected the closet, he didn’t seem to notice the hiding spot hidden in the wall, much to Robin’s relief when she heard his footsteps getting further and further.

She let out an exasperated sigh, which seemed to pique the man’s attention, as he returned to the closet just moments later, inspecting the walls as he swore he heard something coming from the closet.

The barely visible air slats in the door of the child-sized compartment revealed the hideaway, and the terrified child let out a loud, high-pitched scream when the giant man in a skin mask, the man known as Beta, looked down upon her, curled up in a ball in the little cabinet.

“Ah!” she screamed, and kicked at the man’s large hand when he tried to pull her up. “Help! Help!”

Dog limped on three of his paws, as the other one must’ve been injured from being thrown by the man. He tugged on the bottom of the Whisperer’s trench coat, gnawing at it and trying his hardest to pull the giant away from the girl.

The man growled, looking back and forth between the dog and the child, and trying to decide which one to kill first.

Before he could come to a decision, Robin delivered her hardest possible kick to his shin, and crawled between his legs to the other side of the closet where her spear was leaning against the wall.

She took it firmly in both hands, then jabbed haphazardly at Beta’s abdomen, walking backwards out of the closet towards Dog.

“Help!” she cried out again, and as she backed away from Beta, approaching her with deep, angered breaths, she tripped over a stray stuffed animal, which squeaked as she fell to the ground on her bottom.

Despite her little sobs, she tried to keep her spear up, holding it firmly and pointing it at the man.

“Leave me alone!” she sobbed. “Go away!”

Beta didn’t respond, only raised his knife one last time, aiming at the child before Dog made a final attempt to get the man away from Robin.

He growled furiously and clomped onto the back of Beta’s leg, pulling him down to the ground and allowing Robin to flee.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do in her frazzled state, but Dog quickly ran to her and nudged her side with his snout, urging her to rise up and run away.

She did just that, taking Dog with her as she pulled on his collar, jumping over Beta’s leg while he still attempted to lift himself up.

The man was still alive, but at least he was wounded, and now Robin could find help.

With her spear in hand, she and Dog ran out to the darkened street, calling out for anyone to help, but it seemed that there were only more dangers outside.

Walkers were immediately drawn to Robin’s calls for help, stumbling over flower beds and playground equipment to amble towards her and Dog.

What’s worse, Robin recognized the walkers, all of whom were neighbors, even some people who had come over for dinner before, and some who were the parents of other children she knew.

Dog barked and growled at the creatures surrounding them, but there wasn’t much he could do now—he was injured, not fatally, but enough to stunt his defense of the littlest Dixon he’d been trained to protect.

No matter how much she trained to fight the dead, or how much death and fear she was exposed to, there was always going to be one simple fact: she was just a little girl.

Standing side-by-side with Dog, she raised up her spear with shaky hands against the handful of walkers, freshly reanimated and hemorrhaging dark red blood from their mortal wounds.

Their rotten teeth gnashed at the girl, and just before they were only a few feet away, a hand grabbed Robin by the shoulder.

“Rosita!” she cried, and clung to the woman’s leg as she fought off the walkers with her machete.

Once she made an opening in the crowd, she pulled Robin and Dog towards safety, while the chaos and terror of that night continued to rage on until daylight, when it was decided that some of the remaining Alexandrians would travel to Hilltop for safety.

That night was the most terrifying experience of the child’s life, and soon it would be relived in her worst nightmares, along with the information she received that very next morning when Aaron finally returned, alone.

The status of her mother was already hard to explain, but upon the girl’s questioning of her father’s whereabouts, Aaron truly had no idea what to say. He’d gone off into the woods the last time he saw him, in a desperate search for you and the others who had been lost to the falling rubble of the cave.

It gave Aaron hope that you might’ve still been alive, but it made matters difficult for his niece, whom he decided to bring with him to Hilltop that morning, not wanting her to be alone again after the night’s events.

If he’d known of his brother-in-law’s state, he would’ve gone off into the woods himself to find him, but Daryl awoke in the company of Lydia, whose presence must’ve been real during the moments he blacked out.

He woke with a start, panting and already on edge upon seeing Lydia’s face.

“Easy, easy,” she said.

It was daylight, and probably had been for a while. Daryl felt the support of a tree behind his back, and the trickling of blood from the wound on his leg seemed to be gone.

“How long I been asleep for?” he asked.

“Most of the day,” she replied, crouched upon the leaf-covered ground.

“And you were just out here?” he asked. He didn’t mean to sound like a concerned father, slightly upset the girl didn’t at least try to return home, but that was precisely what he sounded like.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just watching you. Watching them. Deciding.”

“Deciding what?”

She averted her eyes, and after moments of thought, changed the subject to something that had been weighing heavily on her mind since she had found Daryl.

“(Y/N)...” she said, and the sharp drop in Daryl’s chest at the mere sound of your name was enough to fully rouse him from his drowsy state. “You were mumbling her name when I found you. Were you looking for her?”

He lowered his head and nodded, slightly ashamed of how vulnerable he must’ve been in the state Lydia had found him. “I was,” he said with a slow nod. “You know… you know what happened?”

She nodded her head and sniffled, keeping her eyes downturned as Daryl did. “Saw it. She didn’t get out.”

“She might be alive,” he said, not hesitating for a moment to think about you being dead again, even if he knew it was likely. It was too much to believe. “I can’t leave ‘er out here.”

Lydia shook her head. She wanted to believe you were alive too, to try to find you, but there were risks to staying out here now. “And I can’t leave you out here,” she replied. “That’s why we’re going to Hilltop. Alpha’s leading the horde there. They’re going to need our help.”

Silence settled in again, and Daryl seemed to remember Alpha’s presence in that old gas station, where she, too, was fighting off death from her wounds.

“Did you kill her?” he asked.

Lydia turned to look at him full-on. “If it was your father,” she asked, “could you have?”

Yes, he immediately thought, though he knew that wasn’t true.

He hated his father, and when he remembered how much the man had left Daryl on his own, frightened and without the love and support he needed, he really did think he could’ve killed him.

“No,” he said honestly.

Lydia crinkled a dry leaf in her hand, and examined the crumbles as she spoke. “The closest I ever had to a mother,” she said, “was (Y/N).”

She looked back up at Daryl, a sadness in her eyes that just barely overshadowed the rage she had for her real mother.

“You knew her… you know her better than anyone,” she continued. “You know she’d want us to fight them now. They’ve got the horde out, and they’re going to bring it to Alexandria. Before they do that, they’re gonna run right through Hilltop… We need to fight.”

The pull Daryl felt to stay in these woods and find you was strong, stronger than anything else he could feel at that moment, but everytime he thought of you, he remembered the words you have said to him, or that he’d conjured up in his mind. In any case, you had said them, and he knew you would’ve meant them.

You need to fight for me.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

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koushou · 3 years

Note

hey can i request a oneshot or hc for megumi, thank you 😩❤️

insufferable

pairing : megumi fushiguro x f!reader {small angst + fluff}

warnings : reader injury, gojo being a perv

word count : 3k

a/n : thank u for requesting! i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, so this was fun to write, i hope you enjoy !

he’s been your rival for as long as you could remember, it was always some kind of competition between the both of you. although, the feeling you both feel for each other, is it truly as simple as hatred?

Insufferable.

It was the only way to describe the dark haired boy standing in front of you, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Alright, calm down, you two,” your teacher’s voice rang over to where you were standing as he made his way over.

Gojo sighs, running a hand through his hair as he eyes the both of you.

“What did I say abo-”

“He clearly had a head start!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down your rival across from you.

“Are you accusing me of cheating?” He raises his eyebrows at you tauntingly.

“Anyone could tell that you ran before sensei blew the whistle!”

“Maybe you should stop focusing on me, and work on bettering your own abilities instead.” He rolls his eyes while starting to walk away, obviously getting bored of the conversation.

“You—!”

“Okay, okay, come on,” Gojo leads you away before you could tackle the boy with his back turned to you.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Your life-long rival, you guys had been by each other’s side for as long as you could remember.

Not that you wanted to remember, you hated him. And so did he.

Everything was a competition between the both of you, and although you would die before admitting it, your constant battles did improve you as a jujutsu sorcerer.

When you both found out you were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech together, you personally saw it as an opportunity to fight him even more, to prove that you were the stronger one, while Megumi-

Well, he didn’t care. He never cared about anything, anyway.

“Come on, we’re heading to the mission location,” Gojo begins to walk ahead of you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You let out a sigh, wishing you could be in the safe confines of your room instead of fighting alongside your least favorite person in the whole world.

“Sensei, what are the curses’ grades?” You ask after the tall white-haired man, who was getting into the front passenger seat of a black car.

“They said it would be a couple Grade 3’s, nothing too much,” the older man yawns, stretching his arms over his head before cursing as they bump against the car’s roof.

“They also mentioned a special grade or something, I don’t really remember,” Gojo slams the car door shut, leaving you to roll your eyes at the man’s irresponsibility.

About to make your way to the car as well, you stumble as a force pushed you from behind, turning around as you get ready to attack whoever was-

“Try not to die to a couple Grade 3’s, alright?” Megumi smirks down at your fuming expression, before making his way to the car.

“I mean, I know they can be quite a hassle for you, but take your time.”

Inhaling sharply, you massage your temples with one hand, trying to suppress your frustration and holding back from tackling the boy to the ground.

“He’s so immature.” Nobara, one of your closest friends at Jujutsu Tech, comes up to you, rolling her eyes at the boy.

“Ignore him, let’s have some meat buns when we get back.” She sends you a wink before walking towards the car, to which you respond with a laugh.

There will be meat buns waiting when I get back, you thought to yourself, licking your lips unconsciously. It will be worth it, snuggling up back in your fluffy blankets, binging your newest favorite show that was airing today-

“You coming or not?” A voice breaks you from your daydream, snapping your head up.

“Ah, are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Megumi smiles at you mockingly, chuckling as he shoves his hands into his pockets and entering the car in the back seats.

Ah.

This was going to be a long day.

“We’re here,” Gojo announces, unlocking the car door to get out.

You all exit the car, stretching as you take note of your surroundings.

The mission assigned this time was to eliminate a couple curses who had sneaked their way into an elementary school. The students were still inside, so you had to be extra careful with fighting.

“Well then, let’s head in.”

Starting to make your way toward the school entrance, a small groan from the side halts you all in your tracks.

A green, slimy creature emerges from the bushes, crawling on its legs as it stares up at all of you.

It leaps forward suddenly, lunging at you, as you raise your sword in time to block it, slicing it in half in one swift motion.

It lets out a final groan as it drops to the ground, melting into a green blob.

“Not too bad, you actually killed it.” Megumi raises an eyebrow in amusement as you clean your sword of any of its remains.

“Thanks for the compliment.” You snarl at him sarcastically, drawing another sigh from Gojo.

You all continue making your way to the school’s front doors, when suddenly your teacher holds an arm out, stopping all of you.

“Shh, listen.”

There was a quiet voice- no, many voices coming from down the hallway of the school. The building was filled with black smoke, restricting your views of where the sounds were coming from.

It sounded as if the many voices were chanting a curse or spell of some sort, and you all knew instantly.

This couldn’t be the doings of a grade 3.

It had to be a special curse.

Gojo steps forward slowly, entering the black smoke as he checks the left hallway, before returning and nodding to you that it was safe.

You nod, slowly making your way into the school as well, turning to check the right hallway.

The black smoke almost made it hard to breathe, you trying your best to swat away any smoke making your eyes tear up.

The chanting became louder as you entered the hallway, and you saw a figure standing in the middle.

Your breath catches in your throat, ready to turn and tell Gojo what you saw, but could you really describe what it was?

It stood at least two feet above you, with gray skin mixed with red blotches here and there and multiple arms hanging by its side. Horns and unidentifiable liquids stuck to its skin, with its mouth hanging open. It had the sharpest teeth you’d ever seen on a curse- no, you’d ever seen in your life- and drool pooled at the corners of its lips, if you could even call them lips, before dripping down its chin, staining the marble floor.

It continued to chant its spell, however it sounded as if the voices were in your head, in your eardrums, echoing through your brain.

You could hear your name being called from behind you, probably Gojo, but the chants were getting louder, louder, and louder until the special grade was standing right before you, its tall figure looming over you.

Snap out of it, you thought to yourself, trying to shake its voice out of your head, commanding your legs to move. To turn back. To run.

Finally you felt your legs listening to you, and you turned around and ran. Ignoring the pattering footsteps of the creature following close behind you, you ran as fast as you could.

Finally, you could see the light at the entrance, where you all had been before, and you could almost see their faces, until-

“Y/N—!”

A sharp pain shot through your stomach.

Ah, that voice.

The voice of your rival who had been competing with you, fighting with you, for your whole life.

It was like it all happened in slow motion, like in the movies.

Megumi and the others stood before you, with a horrified expression as their eyes travelled down, down to your stomach.

You followed their gaze, a dark crimson stain beginning to seep through your uniform, a sharp horn stabbed from the back, right through your body.

Ah, this was it. That jerk was right, huh? I am weak after all.

At that moment, your body went limp. All feelings left your limbs, leaving you to free fall forward, eyes closing as you begin to lose consciousness.

But not before you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, stopping you from the impact.

“Y/N! Wake up, come on, wake up—!”

Why do you keep shouting? You’re so loud, be quiet.

“You can’t do this, wake up— please—“

I told you to be quiet, geez, let me sleep already.

And the last crumb of consciousness left your body.

A horrible thumping pain in your head. Hushed voices from next to you. Fingers entangled with yours.

Wait- fingers?

It had never been so hard to open your eyes, wincing as a bright light from above hits you directly.

Taking a moment to adjust, you finally looked around your surroundings.

It seemed as if you were in a hospital room, long tubes connected to your arms, hands, legs, making it hard for you to move at all.

You notice a doctor and Gojo speaking by the door, but what shocked you was the sleeping boy by your bed.

The sunlight seeping through the window shines on his slender face perfectly, dark strands of hair framing his sleeping face, one you could’ve almost teased him for until you notice his hands. Your hands.

His fingers entangled with yours by your side, the warmth from his palm radiating through yours as the rise and fall from his breathing caused his hands to move slightly every time.

You wished you could snap a picture of this right now, but the comforting feeling of his hands against yours made you not want to move an inch.

“Ah, you’re awake, Y/N,” You recognized your teacher’s voice as he makes his way over to your bed with a relieved smile.

You feel the boy wake up with a jolt, eyes blinking to focus themselves, before settling on yours and widening.

It was only then that he became aware of your entangled hands, quickly pulling away and coughing to cover the slight pink spreading across his cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor next to Gojo asks, holding a clipboard in his hands.

“Just a bit sore in my ribs, but nothing too much.” Megumi glances in your direction, and you would’ve thought it was out of concern before mentally slapping yourself at the absurdity of it.

“Alright, we’ll need to keep you here for a few weeks,” the doctor says, noting something on his clipboard. “I’ll be right back, we still need to give you a check-up.”

He leaves the room, and Gojo takes a seat on the other side of your bed, across from Megumi.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Y/N,” he sighs, before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Good thing you were brought back in time, doc says that any longer and the injury would’ve been more severe.”

You nod, facing your teacher, “Thank you sensei, I should’ve been more careful.”

He shakes his head, “It was a special grade, my fault for not notifying you all earlier.”

A grin spreads across his face, leaning forward slowly in his seat.

“But I’m not the one you should be thanking.” He nods his head slightly to your left, making you turn to see a coughing Megumi, who suddenly thought his shoes were the most interesting things in the world.

Gojo chuckles, patting your shoulder as he gets up to leave.

“I’ll leave you two alone, Megumi take care of her, alright?”

Even behind the blindfold, you could sense that he was sending a wink your way.

The boy only grumbles in response, fiddling with his hands nervously.

You stare at him, before bursting out in laughter.

His head shoots up, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you still laughing.

“What’s with that gloomy look? Don’t tell me…”

You tilt your head at him, a smirk spreading across your face.

“Aww, are you worried about me, ‘gumi?”

The use of the nickname you made for him makes him scoff, turning away from you.

“As if. Just wondering about how stupid you were to get yourself hurt.”

He bites his lips for a moment, as if pondering his next words.

“And stop laughing so hard, what—”

Megumi stops and looks away.

“—what if your wound opens again?” He murmurs quietly, but you managed to catch it.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, before chuckling at him teasingly, “So you are worried about me, liar.”

“Am not!”

“You totally are.”

��Keep lying to yourself.”

With a sigh, you close your eyes, refusing to argue with the boy any longer.

“By the way, what did sensei mean before? That you were the one I should be thanking?”

You open your eyes, waiting for his answer.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, before looking away once again.

“...s’nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your eyebrows at him, confused.

He shakes his head, showing that he wasn’t going to answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “God- you’re so infuriating sometimes, why—”

“When you fainted, I carried you all the way to the hospital, okay?! On my own damn legs, I ran all the way here, I don’t know why I did, but I did so stop asking—!”

Megumi shouts, panting as he finishes talking with an unreadable look in his eyes.

You gape at him slightly, still trying to register his words.

“You...carried me here? Why didn’t you just take the car?”

He scoffs, “The car is way too slow, I would be faster. Plus, your injury would’ve gotten worse so you should thank me.”

He eyes you, searching for any emotions on your face, but all you felt was confusion at the moment.

A few beats of silence pass, and Megumi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well? At least say something.” He mumbles, shifting his feet on the floor.

You just look at him, not believing what he said, before laughing softly.

“Man, ‘gumi, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you liked me so much that you were scared that I would die.”

You teased him, expecting a scoff or an insult thrown back of some sort, but he just rolls his bottom teeth in between his teeth, not making eye contact.

“...so what if I do?” He finally says, so softly that you wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t so close to you.

Wait, why was he so close to you—

The distance between you two closed as he leaned forward to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, inexperienced, but honest and passionate.

Your eyes widened in shock, while his were screwed tight, afraid to open and meet yours.

A contrast to his appearance and personality, his lips were soft, fitting snugly against yours, the taste of him sweet, like cherries.

After a few seconds, he pulls away hesitantly, sitting back down in the chair.

The tension was so thick in the room, not even a knife could cut through it.

It was awkward for a few beats before he spoke.

“I-uh, sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he rubs the back of his neck, a heavy pink dusting his cheeks.

“It..it’s fine, it was nice,” you spoke softly, almost whispering.

His head shot up, facing you. “You liked it?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, before nodding, slowly meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, for saving me.”

A small smile spreads across his lips. Not a teasing one he would use when he was making fun of you, not a fake one, no. This was different.

Megumi was genuinely smiling at you like you were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen before.

“No problem,” he speaks, before slowly reaching for your hand.

Watching you with a careful gaze for any signs of discomfort, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“... I was scared, you know?” He sighs, eyes never leaving your face.

“Scared that… I would lose the one person I care about.” You flush at his words.

“I know, I treat you like you’re below me all the time, like you’re weak, but I-“ He clears his throat, not wanting to mess this up. He only had one chance after all.

“-I do care about you, and I get happy whenever we fight against each other, or with each other. I was scared that- that I would lose the most important person in my life.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, one part of you wanting to tease him like usual, but the other part of you, wanted to do something else.

You tug on his hand that was still holding yours, making him lean forward as you met his lips halfway.

The kiss was a little longer this time, you didn’t have to use words to convey your feelings. He knew. And you knew, too.

Pulling away at last, you lightly flicked his forehead, causing him to pout and rub the sore spot.

You giggle, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I care about you too, Megumi. A lot. I always have.”

You smile.

“And I always will.”

He smiles widely, leaning forward once again until you hear muffled voices on the other side of the door.

“Do you think they’re having s-”

“Sensei! Stop being so loud, they might hear you—“

The door suddenly slams open with Nobara and Gojo tumbling onto the floor.

Silence.

Laughing awkwardly, they finally stand up, nudging the other to speak.

“I- she- uh, we- woah—!” Gojo gasps dramatically at the sight of your hands together.

“So you were having s-”

Both of you flush at the same time, shouting at him.

“We weren’t—!”

You all burst out laughing, feeling Megumi squeeze your hand softly.

Gosh, making you feel butterflies in your stomach like this?

Megumi Fushiguro was truly insufferable.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #megumi x reader angst #megumi fushiguro x reader angst #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)

REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission

ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too

ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on

WORDS: 3506

A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)

“What happened this time ?”

Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.

More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.

The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.

“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.

“Do you feel any pain ?”

He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.

“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.

“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.

She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.

When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.

“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”

She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.

“No drugs,” He told her.

“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”

“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”

She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.

“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”

He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.

“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”

She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.

“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.

She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”

He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.

“How…”

“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”

She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Thank you, doc”

She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.

“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”

“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”

She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.

“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”

When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.

“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t know” He admitted.

She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.

“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.

He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”

It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.

The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.

“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.

She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.

She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.

“Water” She managed to whisper.

He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s alright”

“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.

“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”

“You touched me,” He explained.

“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.

“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”

Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.

“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.

“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.

He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.

“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.

He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”

This time she laughed.

“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.

He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.

“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”

“Neither do you”

He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.

��I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.

The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.

When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.

“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.

“More than alright, doc” He teased her.

The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.

“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.

He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.

“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.

“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”

Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.

“Go right ahead, doc”

She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.

“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.

“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.

“You have no idea, doctor”

She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.

“Too much?” He inquired quietly.

She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”

“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.

“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.

He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.

“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”

“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”

She coughed to try and hide her laugh.

“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”

“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”

She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.

“Don’t play with fire, soldier”

He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”

This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.

“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”

“Leave where ?” He asked.

“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”

“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”

She walked up to him and took his hands.

“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.

“What about you ?”

“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.

He gently pressed his forehead to hers.

“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”

“I’ll hold you onto that”

He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.

“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”

“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”

He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.

“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.

He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.

“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.

The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.

“Did you know her ?” The person asked.

“Yeah”

The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.

“Bad memories ?” He inquired.

“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.

“What happened ?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”

The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.

“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.

He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.

“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”

His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.

“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.

The broken soldier silently nodded.

“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”

“Greece. I have a date in Greece”

Taglist below the cut

@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #fatws

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

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